fucking alfresco

fucking alfresco

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Throwing back without throwing out my hip, my back, my pussy, or my crack.

Has there ever been a time when sex has not predominated my mind in one form or another? The name of this blog, Fucking Alfresco, is named after the last of my old LiveJournal accounts. The LiveJournal account name was an allusion to "eating out." *** Earlier tonight I was talking

I'm no supercrip and while that's okay, I'm not.

This was written sometime between November 6th and November 12th, 2022, but at the time I refrained from publishing it as I had more to say – and as usual, burned out before saying all of it. But what's been said here needs to be said. Last week I was diagnosed

Chronic illness vs the internet

In the first decade or so of the existence of social media, many of us chronically ill people thought we had finally found a safe place to build community among ourselves. But these days, using social media and other online forums as a chronically ill person means gambling with your

In a time of shame: Kate Bush's zeitgeist moment

In September of 1985, 26-year-old English songwriter, musician, and producer Kate Bush released her fifth studio album, Hounds of Love, to critical acclaim. One of her singles from the album, "Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God)," became a top ten hit in the UK, but failed to break

Lessons in internalized ableism

Names have been changed. I volunteer with my local mutual aid group. One of the ways I help is by assisting people with rides. On May 3rd I confirmed with Gail via email that I would be her driver for her May 25th appointment. I did not receive a response.

Delete yourself

20+ years ago Jason Kottke tried to make a go of it as the first fully self-employed blogger. Yesterday, he announced he's taking a break from his blog [https://kottke.org/22/05/announcement-im-going-to-miss-you-but-i-am-taking-a-sabbatical] . He wrote about why: > Does what I do here make a difference in other people’s

Live fast, die young, leave a good looking corpse

A few days ago, I found the below written on a scrap of paper. It's not dated, but I suspect it was written sometime between June of 2020 and June of 2021. So, it's been 1-2 years and not much has changed. > It was never my intention to live this

Gender is a rhythm, too (for Int'l Trans Day of Visibility)

Gender is a rhythm, too (for Int'l Trans Day of Visibility)

Ambiguous messages of gender Top row, left image: a black stick figure in a knee-length skirt, standing with legs wide apart. Top row, center image: a black stick figure with the left half of the body not wearing a skirt and the right half of the body wearing a mid-thigh

Why I'm quitting pleasure activism

An Analogy Imagine that you're on a spaceship. All of your ancestors have always lived on this ship. All life you have ever known has lived on this ship. There is nowhere else to go. On the ship with you are a bunch of very diverse people forced to live

Disgusted: Body Positivity and Disability

Recently, I've been working with a therapist whose focus is on eating disorders and body image. As part of that work, I've been trying to read books from the Body Positivity Movement [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Body_positivity] and I attended 2022's virtual BodCon [https://thebodcon.com/]. Nothing I've

Do you know what this is doing to me?

Hey. I'm still alive. Pretty wild, right? I'm now closer to 41 than 40. Never thought I'd make it anywhere near this far. Life just sort of kept happening, despite my occasional best efforts at otherwise. I've had a form of writer's block that may be interpreted as "fear to

Glacial misgivings

Delete that line. Delete that line. Command a new paragraph... and wait. Tentatively draw words out of fingers, then delete them all. Delete, delete, delete. Blepharospasms. Unsettled digestive system. Persistent genital arousal. Tic, tic, shake. I'm afraid to commit to the thoughts by putting them on screen, on paper, out

First post, first.

The lure of a fresh start has beckoned to me since my mental health issues started as a child. But a fresh start is not a blank slate. It does not return you to Go. It does not wipe the past clean. It's just yet another beginning in a long