Occupy Wall Street - My Two Cents

I'm reporting to you live from home. Not from Zuccotti Park or Washington Square Park or a holding cell. I haven't been down to the protest site. Me, Miss Rebel Rouser. I most certainly have reason to. I am part of the 99%. Don't have a job to call out from to join Occupy Wall Street (one of the reasons I'm in the 99%). Yet, the protest, the movement, doesn't feel organic. Would I be more inclined to participate if there was tear gas involved? If I had the opportunity to hold hands with Al Sharpton or Jesse Jackson? If they were burning effigies? For a protest, there seems to be a lot of rules and regulations and scheduling. Are they simply trying to bait the NYPD into committing brutality?


When they said Occupy Wall Street, that's what I thought they'd do. Block entrances to buildings, camp out in the lobby of 60 Pine Street, clog the Wall Street subway stations. Granted, many of the workers on Wall Street can work from home but maneuvers like that would make the "corporate bigwigs" think twice about coming to work. The protesters are in a park providing walking lanes for commuters. I've read their "list of demands"; there's that tiny sliver of haves that need to realize that the have-nots are pissed. We need to go Robin Hood on them. As result, I haven't ventured to Occupy Wall Street. I've viewed some photos online. Barely sat through 30 seconds of coverage on livestream.


I guess I expected more of this:

Instead of this:

Photo Credit: Ijeoma D. Iheanacho

Those are my current feelings. They are subject to change.

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I Didn't Ask To See Your Penis

Note: The above was NOT forcibly removed
"Storm Drain", Man. Toy.

These men...no matter how old, they just love to whip it out

That's a text message I received from a girlfriend after I told her I'd received a dick pic seconds before. I replied to her: Yeah! It's like their badge or something!


Men and their penises.

They love to show them off.

Even when you didn't plead to see it.

Even if they've never met you.

Rhythm And F'n Blues

While hanging with a friend a few nights ago, a song came on his shuffle that perked my ears right up. It was raw. At first I thought it was a spoof but he informed me that it was an actual recording by Lucille Bogan -- "Till The Cows Come Home". He gave me a brief history lesson on the life of Lucille Bogan (aka Bessie Jackson who was a known prostitute and would at times fuck men with strap-ons).

I know the blues are very sensual and sexual. I got a recent dose of blues' lyrics in Too Much Boogie by Cole Riley. But they were a bit "milder". I'm used to double entendres and euphemisms but Ms. Bogan plunged in head first (see what I did there?)!