PEACHFRONT SPEAKS

Recent entries july 4, 2018 - 2018-07-04 the triangle continues of courtney, boobear, & nyota - 2018-07-03 Cookie so cute telling, "Hello" to sparrows - 2018-07-01 lovebirb in love - 2018-06-30 wren with fluffffff - 2018-06-24 Read my new book, The 10 Best Things You Can Do For Your Bird at Amazon or at many other fine distributors like Barnes & Noble, iTunes, Kobo, and more. By public demand, and after a delay of an embarrassing number of years, I've finally put my notorious essay, Ender and Hitler: Sympathy for the Superman, free on the fabulous internets. A bibliography of my published books and stories. Here's a simple card-counting FAQ to get you up to speed on the basics. Here's the true story of the notorious DD' blackjack team, told for the first time on the fabulous internets. No other team went from a starting investor's bankroll of zero to winning millions of dollars. A Sadean take on Asimov's classic Three Laws of Robotics can be found in Roger Williams' NOW REVIEWED ON SLASHDOT!!! The Metamorphosis of Prime Intellect. Adult readers only please -- explicit sex and violence. For updates on the "Dead Tree Project" and other topics, you may visit the official fan site, Passages in the Void.. My Bird Lists -- My Louisiana State Life List, My Yard List and, tah dah, My World Life List. HEY! What happened to the Peachfront Conure Files? The world's only OFFICIAL Peachfront Conure site now features free peachfront conure coverage, including a magazine length Intro to Conures previously published in American Cage-Bird Magazine, now free on the web. I offer the best free Peachfront Conure information on the internet. If you have great Peachfront Conure info, stories, or photos to share, contact me so I can publicize your pet, your breeding success, your great photograph, etc. on my site. Thanks.

scars 2009-03-21 - 12:10 a.m. I'm pretty sure that nobody under age 18, and maybe nobody under 30, has ever read my diary in all these beers and years, but just in case, kiddies, this Bud AIN'T for you. Because I'm going to put some choice quotes from one of my finds from the San Francisco used bookstore crawl, and the kink in question is probably for mature adults over age 21 only, blah de blah de blah. The find in question is The Scar by China Mi�ville, which I'm pretty sure his Mama didn't name him that, but neither did my Mama name me Peachfront, so next question. This book is actually extremely well-done, so don't read it just for the "good parts," read the whole thing. We'll cut to the chase now and just enjoy the unhealthfulness of this: "They are called freggios," he said. "The scars, they're called freggios." He indicated the seat opposite me and inclined his head. "May I sit?"... "On the boss's island, the men go to sea and leave their wives and lovers on the land, and no amount of custom or tradition can chain legs closed. A man who loves a woman with a fierce enough passion-- or says he does, or thinks he does--aches when he leaves her. He knows intimately how powerful her charms are. He himself succumbed to them, after all. So he must lessen them. "On the boss's island, a man who loves strongly enough will cut his woman's face..." We watched each other, unmoving. "He'll mark her, to make her his, inscribe his property, notch it like wood. Spoil her just enough that no other will want her. "Those scars are freggios. "Love, or lust, or something, some combination, overtook the boss. He courted the newcomer and quickly claimed her...he decided that she was his entirely, and with a kind of clumsy bravado, he drew his knife after coitus and cut her face... She was still; she let him do it...And then she took the knife and cut him back." I leave it as an exercise for the reader to decide whether or not that's better than waking up from the exhausting first night in spring with the beautiful multi-murderess. But trust me, once you get into the book, you'll want to know what happens to these pevs -- not just the Lovers, but also the sick and disturbed "couple" gossiping about them in this passage. I realize that the over-abundance of vampire literature is supposed to meet all of your sick, twisted reading needs-- and certainly Mi�ville nods to the vampire -- but there usually isn't enough there there if you ask me. Too much now is aimed at the teen/tween (Twilight) or the frank seeker of whack-off material (Laurell K. Hamilton, not that there's anything wrong with that, as they say, but it ain't for me). Give me a story about people in the future (or perchance in this case it's the past or an alternate universe, the people on this planet don't know, they barely know they're on a planet) going about their business but somehow their business is a little sick and weird and twisted...just like real life, tee hee. I've noticed the rise and rise of the cutting/marking fetish over the years. I probably have nothing useful to say about it. I know that it existed even in the day when dinosaurs roamed the earth -- a girl in my gym class boasted that her boyfriend carved her name "an inch deep" into his arm and so she felt obligated to try to carve his name into her arm, not an inch deep, just some scratches really, but she showed them off just the same. I inspected her arm and you couldn't even read the scratches. Probably better to say "fuck it" and get a tattoo, but nice girls didn't get tattoos in those days. So that wasn't gonna happen, but she did make up a nicely knotted hangman's noose to wear around her neck when the teacher wasn't looking. Not so much of a much today but we didn't have goth girls/suicide girls in the early/mid 1970s, so we were suitably impressed. Just think. Back then, you could be all angst-y and you didn't even have to wear all black. But I've been thinking a bit more about some of these modifications, because of a couple of observations I made in the poker room. Yeah, Peachfront, watching people, well, that's a new one. One observation I don't want to discuss too much in public, because it involves a woman's tattoo that will most certainly identify her if I describe the tattoo, so I don't see a way to talk about it except in vague generalities without violating her privacy. Well, OK, here's the generality: This otherwise young and beautiful lady seems to have a large tattoo on her arm, which is the name of a man, that is not the name of the well-to-do man she's involved with, who could certainly afford to buy her laser surgery to remove it. So every time I see it I wonder. Is it that he's too cheap to fix it that she's marked by another man, is it that he isn't using his real name and that is in fact his mark, is it that he gets turned on by the fact that she's marked by another man? Is it simply that the tattoo is the English translation of his French name and, even so, why not one's actual name instead of one's fantasy name of what you'd be called if you were born in another time and place? I know, bad sick Peachfront! Don't worry about their sex lives, just keep your attention on how they play the game. The other observation is about a young woman who was an out-of-the-closet cutter. I mean, if you make cuts on your leg with a razor and then wear a mini skirt up to your derriere, then you want people to know. She didn't play at our table because we were the high limit table at that casino and she doesn't have any money. She was just sort of there with a story. And a very straight-looking thirtysomething man at my table was just smitten with her. She was the key that turned his lock. I mean it was like he was just hit in the head and immediately hypnotized. You know how a fetish works. We all know. Boom, smack, that's it. And it was just a horrible situation, she'd just bailed her "real" boyfriend out of jail, blah de blah and so forth, and now he'd dumped her at the casino with no money (because HER money bailed him out of jail but HIS money was bankroll) while he went gam-booling up a storm. And she really didn't "get it" what she did to the smitten guy or she pretended she didn't to play him, who the hell knows, I don't. All I know is that I'm thinking to straight guy, Run, Forest, run but at the end of the day, he's a grown-up, and his wife is in Baton Rouge, so it's somebody-else's problem syndrome and I'm going to have a nice hot drink of shut the fuck up. Then the next time I'm in that casino, he comes up to me and asks, "Have you seen my Goth girl?" "Yeah, sure, dude, because I know every pervo in Mandeville personally." I was wearing a perhaps overly Vegas-y low-cut top plus stripper shoes the last time he saw me, so crap, me and Goth girl are the two outlaws of Mandeville, right? Actually, I did not say that, although I was VERY STRONGLY tempted to inform him that Mandeville is big enough that everyone doesn't know everyone this time of century. "Dude, she just bailed a guy out of jail for assault and she's a cutter, she's trouble, get on with your life and be happy." I didn't say that either. I truly didn't know what to say. I finally just babbled out, "I think maybe she's in jail," not because I thought so, but because it was my weak Mandeville old lady way of saying, "This chick is trouble, dude." He laughed and said I was probably right -- and then went looking around to ask somebody else. So there are not just cutters. There are cutter fanciers. You heard it here first. Or actually since I'm not into people, you guys probably knew all about it and heard it here LAST. back - next All Rights Reserved, Copyright 2002-2017 by Elaine Radford