Grrrr... I always wondered what would happen if I left the write-to-your-blog screen up on my Mac at home. Wouldn't this prevent me from blogging while I'm at work? And the answer would be: "Yeah. Duh."

So today, I'll keep a running blog in the form of an email I'll compose during the day, send it to myself, and post when I get home this evening.

Cool? Cool.

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Last night at dinner, there was much discussion of the Black Party. I had thought about it, and decided I didn't want to go. Why not? I do badly at those things. For the uninitiated, the Black Party attracts 7,000 hot men from around the world. Things get going at about 2 a.m. on Saturday night and run through 2pm on Sunday. Just about everything goes on during the festivities, sexually speaking. I heard tell of someone who gave 40 blowjobs and got his kitten punched 14 different times during the course of the Black Party last year.

So what's not to like?

I don't do drugs, but everybody else will be doing drugs. And, when I'm in a crowd of unbelievably hot men in hunting mode, my ego gets very, very fragile. Here's the inevitable thing: I spy with my little eye some stunning man, make a play, position myself in his line of vision and see if he notices me (is that the stupidest cruising strategy you've ever heard in your whole life, or what?), when he doesn't notice me, I'll decide that's because I'm just not up to par in the great scheme of things. This will put me in a bad mood. I'll suddenly become less tolerant of the crowding, the pushing, the noise, the line to the bathroom. So there I'll be, feeling crappy about myself and irritable to boot. Sometimes, events like the Black Party that exist in order to facilitate getting laid only seem to make getting laid more comfortable.

That said, I am sort of feeling a hankering for some anonymous pig sex with multiple strangers. So, perhaps I'll try and schedule a trip to El Mirage sometime soon.

Hmmmm. I'm kind of feeling this urge to cut loose percolating up from my loins. I wanna get drunk. Drunk would be nice.

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I've never done X or K. I know the basic risk reduction strategies for both of these, and I could probably find somebody who could get me something that's not chalk dust in capsule form. But truth be told, I probably never will follow through on the inclination to experiment. I might get a bad reaction, I might not like whatever reaction I do get, I will obsess about the proper venue for months and years after I do get the stuff, I'd want to make sure that someone I know and trust will be there with me and will be straight as I take my little trip.

Huh. It would be hot to do it in the context of a scene. Like an interrogation scenario, or abducted, drugged, and forced into service at the brothel. That would be pretty cool. With all the books I've been reading about the Shaman experience, being introduced to mind-altering substances by a Shaman (aka a Top) is a pretty routine thing. I don't think I know of anyone who might be up for that, though. I know plenty of Tops who would be glad to usher me into an altered state of consciousness using clothespins or whatever to get my endorphins going, but I can think of no one who would be up for taking me on a chemically induced trip. I guess there's a certain logic there. There is absolutely no risk that endorphins or adrenaline are going to trigger a psychotic episode, but I know first hand of at least once case where that happened with X. (Although, the person in question was somewhat precariously perched to begin with, and my state of mental health is fairly sound.) Huh. And interestingly enough, it would not be hard at all to find someone who would shoot me up with Tina and throw me in a sling. (I definitely do not want to go there. At all.)

I don't have a lot of trouble conceiving of a scene that would involve consensual, safe, and sane intoxification. Maybe I should ask around. Who knows? Perhaps there's a responsible Top out there who might be willing to work on that with me.

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