Being Austrian, and having the audience applaud because they think it’s all part of the wonderful show.

So, I did a bit of stage craft during my formative years. At what point in theater do you actually need a real blade that has been sharpened to the point where you can still slice open huamn flesh with relative ease?

Fact of the matter is that human flesh is amazingly sensitive. It takes a really fine blade to not notice how sharp something is. Way I figure it, someone clearly wanted this guy to slash his own throat, and then blame it on a bit of Brandon Lee Oopsie Daisy.

The ballsiest thing about this whole piece of drama is that hte guy gets back up on stage to do it again the next night.

So, as it seems, S&M can go wrong for people in more than a simple Michael Hutchinsonsnosnonss choke-yourself-to-death-on-the-back-of-a-door kind of way.

Apparently a few people got into an active S&M based relationship with a particular dominatrix in New York, and some people couldn’t take the rivalry.

So, jokes about “getting pwned” aside, I was always under the impression that S&M relationships, that weren’t romantically based, were always more about dominance and effectively ‘owning’ the person who is supposedly the Sub (even though we know that in ap rofessional situation the Suub is actually the one in control of things). Furthermore, if you’re paying someone for that service, then surely you’re merely one client among many, and can’t actually expect “fidelity”… whatever that means in this particular instance.

If you are the Sub in this instance, the ‘owned’ party, you can’t really expect that your Dom is going to do things the way you want them to be done, except when it comes to hurting you in the way you like. So where precisely do you get off, if you excuse the pun, on shooting the Dom’s actual boyfriend, and then forcing your Dom intho the boot of the car? That really doesn’t sound terribly submissive to me, and this totally disregards the fact that you’re not exactly getting fidelity for a paid service… I mean, I don’t really expect my Cable repair guy to only make sure my cable’s ok, and he’s a pretty attractive guy!

Or maybe I’m just missing something here?

More to the point, what sort of car in New York doesn’t come equipped with one of these nowadays?

So it seems that Emily The Strange is actually a knock off…

Is anyone really that surprised? We live in a world beset by marketing, constantly looking for things that they, whoever “they” are, are hoping we have forgotten, because it is no longer what is popular with the current generation, ore ven known.

It’s a sad, sad inditement that something so basic as Emily gained traction in the first place. It’s a sadder inditement that people considered the artowrk to be edgy, out there, and creative. Saddest still is the simple fact of the matter that, much like Harry Potter, people are being allowed to get away with this blatant theft of ideas simply because they’re much more succesful at marketing it.

You know what? I think I’m going to create a musical persona called Wiggy Moondust, and wear feminine clothing, and have movies in which I wear tight pants and dance around with puppets while I traumatize infants and teenage girls.

It’s totally original, I swear!

So, as some of you may know, I help out with the promotions and running of Black Widows nightclub in Melbourne.

Last weekend, I was door bitching for the night, missing out on all the fun… or so I thought.

In steps two young gentlemen wearing blue jeans and plaid shirts. Oh dear, methinks, here we go again.

The first one steps up to the plate “Hey, is there a cover charge?”

“Yes,” I reply, “It’s $10 this evening, or $8 with a flyer.”

They step back and confer for a bit. The second one steps up “What kind of club is it?”

“It’s a gothic club, gentlemen.”

“Oh… Are there chicks in there?”

“Yes.”

“Are they hot?”

I raise an eyebrow, already knowing where this is going, and comtemplating whether or not to tell them about the ‘traps’. I decide not to and press on with “Some of them, certainly. It’s like any other nightclub in that respect.”

“Yeah, yeah. Are they up for it?”

“I think you’ll find they certainly are,” I respond, a hint of a smile playing at my lips “but you may find that you’re not quite into what they are into…”

They look at each other before the first asks “What do you mean?”

I simply make a spanking gesture.

“Oh, they’re into spanking?”

“The nice ones are. If that’s a problem, you probably don’t want to know what the others are into.”

They step back again, and talk to each other for a moment, taking side long glances at me.

“You know what, we’ll probably be back a bit later.”

 

Sometimes, there’s fun to be had in the most boring of places.