I am shocked that my previous entry calling Women to Unite has drawn an angry email from a woman. Why can’t we women get along? Why must we always be so catty? Julie M Freeman wrote:
Why don’t you get off your narcissitic butt and help some of the families of the 3000 murdered on 9/11? That would be a lot more constructive than trying to make everybody think you’re real cool.
Jay saw me watching our video Nasty New York City Cab Ride the other day, and I got him hooked again on it. Watching it brought back memories of the hottest thing I’ve been part of up to now, and of the amazing friends that helped make it happen.
First on the list is Mitch, who said “Better call yourself a cab! You’re a cab!” He’s a gifted musician/poet and cab driver in New York City, my dear friend, occasional lover and adored rock star! His big Guatemalan cock is a welcome addition to Jay’s.
Next to thank is CJ, soon-to-be Stanford grad, my beautiful camera girl. She’s such a jetsetter, so I’m really pleased she could join us in New York that weekend. It’s always so wonderful to have a camera-person capture me and Jay in action to really get those angles. Too often he and I pass the camera back and forth to get the shots. We were comfortable enough with CJ’s camera skills that we could just kick back and really have a blast in the back of the cab. It also helps the mood when the face behind the camera is as inviting as hers. After the shoot, Jay rewarded her with a tasty cunnilingus treat off-camera. Sticky sweet!!!
Finally nothing is complete until I give credit to my partner in crime, my HOT LAVA!!! I love you so much… you make me feel so free and alive! When I first started hanging out with Jay there were many things that were uncertain to me, but I knew that I would learn a lot, have a wonderful time and never be bored. I was right. He brought out the best in me. With him I became bold. I had the courage to be truly myself and share this self with others. All of me, with all my imperfections. And suddenly they weren’t imperfections anymore. They became what makes me unique.
The set pieces/backdrop Jay painted look great. We put it to the test with our cameras. I took this portrait of Jay just before he changed out of his paint-splattered overalls.
I was inspired by the portraits of Timothy Greenfield-Sanders. I like how Greenfield-Sanders’ portraits express each subject’s persona. It’s not like “plug model A into slot X.” His photo of Andy Warhol has his clothing fading right into the black backdrop. Dennis Hopper’s shoulders fill the whole frame of the photo, making him seem really intimidating. Ruth Bader Ginsburg is tightly composed in a chair way too big for her, and John Malkovich perches thoughtfully on what looks like a plank or a diving board.
So here he is: Jay, the artist who creates what you see behind me, and the man who loves being in my behind.
Jay is painting set pieces, and tonight I’ve got the cam on him. I’m playing Lou Reed’s Transformer album, thinking about how Jay does so much for my websites and is hardly ever seen. Here’s one of the few portraits of Jay and me. Aren’t we cute together?
Something sparked when the two of us met. We each had what the other wanted, like two halves of a whole. We’re like legos. He makes me feel like I can do anything. He and I have been through so much, and accomplished a lot together. He’s a generous and energetic man, who gives his all when involved in a project.
He’s also an adventurous lover… Today I was reviewing Nasty NYC Cab Ride before sending it off in the mail, and got so turned on watching him… his enthusiastic tongue on my moist ass… that hard cock following, ramming itself swiftly as I squealed like a piggy.
God, I love his body… that magnificent six-pack, he’s got the body of Michelangelo’s David, except for the baby pecker. Most of the time when I see Jay’s cock, it’s erect and saluting the Queen.
Wait, Jay objects. He says he feels closer to Donatello’s David. It’s the young David with his sword and Goliath’s head underfoot. It’s much more powerful than Michelangelo’s, which just stands there nude with a slingshot over his shoulder.
To my dear lover Jay, my partner in love and mischief, I couldn’t be happier! Here’s to true love and eternal lust!!!
This past weekend I gathered some friends together and shot what is now the music video for my song, Moontide. I’m posting it today in solidarity with the Lysistrata Project, a worldwide theatrical event in which over a thousand theater groups in over 50 countries are performing 
Aristophanes’ play Lysistrata on this day, 3-3-03, as a form of creative protest against war.
Lysistrata is an ancient greek comedy about how the Athenian, Trojan and Spartan women conspire to tease and titillate but withhold sex from their warrior mates until war is stopped. During the course of the play, helplessly hard-cocked men could not concentrate on their war efforts and decide to go home and give peace a chance.
My favorite scene is the Oath of Women. Here’s my own translation:
I will have no military man
For a husband, lover or casual encounter
Not even his boner will win me over
I refuse to put anything on
Except what shows my body off
That every GI Joe may burn with desire
But find no release from his groin’s fire
To warmongers I won’t raise my toes to the ceiling
Nor stretch on all fours like a pussy
Both the front door
And the back door
Will be locked.
As I drink from this cup
I will abide by this oath.
It’s a fun little fantasy, but a satisfying way to express myself as a global citizen. I know there are many people like me who are citizens of one country, yet residents of another. I was born and raised in the Philippines, but I’m a green card holding California resident. Neither government has the right to speak for me, nor wage war in my name. The internet is quickly creating a global culture, and it is to this global community that I pledge my allegiance.
I wrote the song Moontide as an ode to the moon, its power over the tides and its supernatural connection to women’s life cycles. The music video, loosely based on Lysistrata’s Oath of Women, celebrates soft sexy women in sheer seductive fabrics contrasting against militia and industry for a striking feminine anti-war statement.
Pretty soon, my pretty baby
the moon is on my side.
Pretty soon, my pretty baby
she’ll change the tide.
