(Gimme) Everything You Got

I was gifted a bit of an independent perfumer's concoction that smells divine, although it could also be described as smelling like a still-drunk sorority girl laying on her bed with the Sunday morning sun shining in on her through the window. I'm sure this says more about me than the scent. There is something rotten about it: Strawberries that have turned; champagne that was stale in the first place.

Apropos to nothing: People who ask for what they want sexually - directly - will always make me weak in the knees. Even if it is something that can't happen for whatever reason or situation or promise, I love the automatic flush that smears across my face while I maintain eye contact, and the total turn on I experience from the respectful audacity.

(pause)

(pause, Part II)

Yes, I waited for the WAP video to come out. Yes, it is mthrfking incredible. No, I can't stop watching reaction videos because they are great and let me re-live seeing the video for the first time (and are also hilarious). I am only annoyed at the amount of things Youtube blanked out or censored. I wish the video could be seen with the actual song. It censored out a reference to the uvula? Come on. Are you kidding me?

Do not talk to me about a "bad influence" narrative. Women who know what they want are the best influences out there.




be well; be loved,

k. 


The video that is lyrically absurdly censored:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hsm4poTWjMs&feature=emb_title

The actual song: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wc5IbN4xw70

As an aside, although mostly because of Cardi's openness about having been a dancer:

There is a difference in how women who have worked in sex industry can interact with other women that women (who have not been involved in sex work) can't relate to or see. Women with no experience in sex work won't be able to recognize what it is that I'm describing.

It is subtle, but it is also tangible.

It is invisible, but it is also visceral.

It is both a big "fuck yes" and a big "fuck you'.

It is art.

It is performance.

It is truth.

It is impeccable.




image: Ssense Issey Miyake by Thomas Truam