I have been posting pictures of Joan Jett to my Girl Power board on Pinterest.
Looking at it this morning, I realized… hey! in this one, Joan Jett has a long pixie haircut!
It was truly ridiculous how happy that made me.
Bad-ass, uncompromising, talented, sexy: that’s Joan Jett. A nasty woman, in the best way.
Interesting thing, I pinned this picture of her that is actually doctored.
Very well doctored. Like, top-notch Beverly Hills plastic surgeon quality of doctored.
But this is the original, actual picture.
Still, I’m going to go with nasty woman for the title of this post.
Speaking of other, equally talented female musicians, this poem has ties to libido which I introduced in a post discussing Taylor Swift.
I love Tay in part because she puts (nearly) as much effort into codes and symbols as I do.
And so, here it is, a dirty little poem that I wrote after I went out with some friends and smoked a couple cigarettes and then felt guilty about it in the morning.
I’m not addicted to the nicotine. I am addicted to the feeling of killing myself slowly and with immense purpose and pleasure. And I know it’s bad for me. But, still, yes, I stray.
That made me think about other impulses and desires that are equally as bad for me.
So, whatever, I am evil. At least I’m in good company. Bon apetit!
maybe I have an oral fixation
(it’s true that I love to hear myself talk),
or maybe it’s just that my lips get bored
when they aren’t mouthing an O on a cock.
you can grip it with two fingers or five,
you can suck it in shallow or draw deep,
you can swallow the remnants of pleasure,
or spit it out on the ground in a heap.
for my health, I’ve abandoned the habit,
although it finds me at night when I dream,
like libidinous thoughts of his body,
I crave both to the point that I could scream.