mms_picture2I remember reading from  textbook, one time, I think it was one written by Joan Ferrante, a statement that said something like, “Sociology is a window through which we can see both the absolute best and the absolute worst of society.” I used to really like that quote, until I realized that I didn’t need sociology in order to see the best and the worst. Instead, all I needed was to look around and watch things happen.

People can be terrible beings. That isn’t to say that people are somehow all bad. It is simply the case that some people suck and it is the people who suck less who have to fix the damage done by those who suck.

One major thing that makes people suck is bigotry. Hatred toward people forwbc some arbitrary thing, like skin color, country of origin or even sexual preference. Some of the current, most famous bigots that we encounter in the news, today, is the Westboro Baptist Church. Fred Phelps an his family have made hatred a way of life. If you’re not aware of who WBC is, please see here (yes, it is wiki, but the reference, in this case, is justified).

On October 21st, I got to see that hatred, but I also got to see how it can be dealt with. I got to see hate and anti-hate on that day. The following is an account of what happened.

I found out that Westboro Baptist was to visit our area right around the beginning of October. This only gave us two and a half weeks to plan something. I started making plans that same day, what, exactly, I had to do, though, wasn’t entirely clear. I just knew that I needed people. I contacted people I knew, talked to people who ran local organizations and the whole putting something together thing became a big blur. I helped, I think, but I can’t really say how much help I was because so many others were working on it, too. In fact, within days there were planning meetings set up and we became pretty well organized from carpool planning to sign making.

On the day of the protest, we (myself and a few others I had helped plan with) had estimated there might be about 60 or so people counter protesting the WBC. We estimated this based on the groups we knew of getting involved. We didn’t think it would be a huge gathering, but we knew we’d have a bigger presence than WBC. That was important to us. We wanted to deflect their message. We wanted to simply make a bigger impact than they could.pirate-hat

I started my day by walking from Gonzaga over to the Coffee Social, where I met up with some other counter-protesters, got some coffee and breakfast. I was dressed as a pirate. My short walk, as it turns out, taught me a little lesson in social hierarchies. Everyone gives pirates the right of way. I didn’t have to wait to cross any streets and I had people happily honk and wave as I walked by. The life of a pirate is good.

We left the coffee shop to head over to the nearby Gonzaga to find a few hundred people already crowding the sidewalk. It turns out, my acquaintances and I suck at estimating attendance for these things.

Example from a High School we were at later that day:


At Gonzaga University, this happened:


and this:


and this:


Gonzaga ended up being an impressive start to a great day. There was a band and a dancing gorilla (see above images), hundreds of people gathered and sang as they held up their signs. At one point, the whole crowd sang Lean On Me using song sheets that had been handed out, entitled, “Welcome to the Traveling Pride Festival!” Other songs included were, People in your Neighborhood and Gentle, Angry People.

The next stop in our journey was Moody Bible school. Moody is set in a small neighborhood, so it was tough to see how many were there. It was crowded and there were random trees. It was at Moody that I found counter-protest dog:


I also met this lady:


A Christine O’Donnell/Sarah Palin hybrid, she warned the crowd of the dangers of mastication and made sure that everyone knows that God hates bags.

Gridlocked by other counter-protesters, getting interviewed twice and posing for pictures with everyone who asked (pirates makes for great photo ops), led to me not really exploring the crowd at Moody very much, but it felt bigger than the crowd at Gonzaga. We were growing.

Visiting Whitwoth and Ferris is strangely blurred for me. I, again, had a lot of people stop me for photos. It was at one of those places that I met this guy:



Light saber + anti-hate = I became an instant fan of his.

Another thing that happened is that, at some point, a group of people gave the WBC people little glasses of kool-aid. One of the people I was with had this sign:


While I appreciate the morbid joke that is a reference to the People’s Temple when Jim Jones convinced his congregation to drink poisoned kool-aid, it made me uncomfortable. The last thing we need is more death because of dogma and even crazies like the Phelps clan don’t need to be martyrs to their own nonsense.

Another thing that made me uncomfortable was a moment when part of the crowd began chanting “go home” at the WBC. I, again, understood the sentiment, but the message was, itself, hate-filled, which doesn’t help matters when it comes to the message the WBC is already sending. Furthermore, I am a fan of problem-solving, not problem hiding. Sending the WBC home doesn’t solve the problem, it just moves it. We don’t want them in our communities, but we’re not helping if we push them off into other communities.

Eastern Washington University was the climax for the day:

crowdewuThe estimates I have heard claim that 1,000-1,200 people were at Eastern Washington University for the counter-protest. The crowd had seemingly grown, throughout the day, at each location and at EWU, it was at maximum. The sidewalks were full and security people walked up and down the streets to help remind us to stay on the sidewalk. One guy at EWU got arrested for causing a disturbance, he had been walking through the crowd, telling people they were sinners and going to hell. There was music and activities at EWU, but I chose to go to the synagogue instead of staying with the festivities.

At the Synagogue, the Rabbi had asked that counter-protesters not stay outside, and requested that they come inside for a meeting of peace. I was more than happy to accept that proposal, as I can at least understand why he preferred that approach. His belief is in not reinforcing confrontation and promoting peace by simply advocating it. There were some problems, though. One was, like the rest of us, he’d underestimated the size of the crowd. The synagogue is very small and could barely hold a few dozen, it certainly wasn’t big enough for a few hundred. We were a tad early, so we went to the synagogue, anyway. They had parked a bus and other vehicles in front of the building to block the WBC. Counter-protesters gathered at the street corners with their signs. Before entering the synagogue, we were asked to leave our signs outside. I was cool with that. Once inside, though, I learned that the meeting of peace was more of a Jewish presentation, and the conversation my friends and I had with the Rabbi was highly religious. Also, instead of sharing his perspective as his belief, he shared it as if it were absolute reality, which made my friends and I, who had various systems of belief and non belief, rather uncomfortable. We ended up leaving. Most of the people I was with chose to continue their counter-protest outside the synagogue. I still felt it was important to respect the wishes of the Rabbi and not protest outside his synagogue, so I walked to a nearby store and called for a ride home.

Here are some other pics from the counter protest:








I wish I could have gotten more pictures of signs, but after Gonzaga, it was just impossible to navigate the crowd.

Overall, the day was made of win. We were able to make our own messages of peace and acceptance much louder than the WBC could ever be. Along with all I mentioned above, a few other things are worthy of note. Firstly, there were multiple fund raisers going on, some of them a bit, … uhm … not congruent with what we were legally allowed due to lack of time to get permits. The Inland Northwest LGBT center did a lot to help keep people organized alongside several other groups that I didn’t get the name of. Thomas Brown of the Spokane Secular Society started a fundraiser on facebook for various groups that raised $115. Postcards from Equal Rights Washington were handed out to help send a message to our legislators in favor of equal marriage rights. Members of a Patriotic Motorcycle Club, which I didn’t get the name of because everyone had a different answer and when the cyclists walked by me, I got flirty with one’s daughter (*blush*), also showed up and made lots of noise and showed off their patriotism.


I did a photo comic miniseries a few years ago on one of the websites I worked for. This is one of the panels, featuring my cat, Fizgig.

P. S. Yes, I used an old joke for my Header. Har, Har, Har! You can hate me for it later.

condomMany people have a serious love/hate relationship with condoms. Using a condom changes the sensations one feels during sex and some even claim that the suggestion for the need of a condom implies lack of trust in one’s partner. An even bigger problem, though, is not the lack of desire to use a condom, but is the tendency for people to forget to carry condoms at all.

This brings us to the solution created by Switzerland’s Federal Office of Public Health: a Condom delivery service. This is why we love the Swiss.

Young people should always carry condoms with them, the office said in a news release Friday, but now bike couriers will arrive — in an hour or less — to “come to the aid of those who have forgotten.”

That’s right, you can have a dong sarong at the ready within an hour of simply making a phone call, if you live in Switzerland. The program isn’t very spendy, either. It costs what amounts to about $7.50, in U. S. dollars, for three condoms. That’s only about 30% more than what you’d pay at a convenience store.

Sadly, this project doesn’t last forever.

The project, which lasts throughout July, is part of the country’s “LOVE LIFE STOP AIDS” campaign.

The idea behind the campaign is to remind people to use condoms. It is a fantastic campaign and I hope to see more like it in the future.

At the Mercy of the condom, they die in three days. *insert foreboding drum beat here*

At the Mercy of the condom, they die in three days. *insert foreboding drum beat here*

The downside of this campaign is that, just like people don’t plan ahead for sex enough to remember condoms, they also are often not attentive enough in the heat of the moment to think to acquire one. I’ve seen people even almost skip the condom at sex parties where there were baskets of them everywhere because they hadn’t thought about it. People have to be educated to the point that their brain is trained to think about condoms when they need them. This is why the Swiss campaign is a part of a bigger campaign to educate people about the importance of safer sex.

For those of us who don’t have the convenience of a condom delivery service, here’s a gentle reminder to keep condoms with you: If you are sexually active, even if it doesn’t happen often, bring condoms!

The dick often influences various aspects of human culture:

  • The Aztecs focused on various sexual elements in their pictographic displays, including blood-letting rituals from their cock.
  • The Greeks gave us the term for a long-lasting hard-on, a priapism, from their god of fertility, Priapus.
  • The Fon tribe in Africa would carve large phalluses and plant the base of the cock into the ground to encourage the growth of crops.
  • Many New Guinea tribes use kotekas, long penis sheaths made from gourds, as clothing for their genitals.

The penis is recognized as an important part of human fertility in even some of our oldest historical records. It is not surprising, then, that men now are quite concerned with their dicks, even in our culture.

I get asked nearly every day about my thoughts on and experience with the size of men’s dicks:

  • “Do you like big cock?”
  • “Is 4 inches too small for you?”
  • “Are you a size queen?”
  • “How big is the biggest cock you’ve fucked?”
  • “Is 10 inches too big?”

The reality is, 5.1-5.9 inches is the average penis size and I’m pretty much happy with whatever I get in real life. My job, though, is to entertain the person I’m talking to in the way they want to be entertained. So, when they ask, I say I like big cock; omitting the fact that I like whatever cock. Like many women, my vaginal canal is normally 3 inches deep. During arousal, it extends to more than that, but unless something pushes it farther, it is generally no deeper during arousal than about 4.5 inches. This means that I’ve yet to have sex with a guy who couldn’t touch my cervix with his penis and most guys I’ve had sex with have hit it pretty hard.

This is not uncommon. Also, women’s vaginas tend to be pretty versatile. They can accommodate lots of sizes. Thus, while the sex culture focuses on penis size as a symbol of male status, the penis size of men often doesn’t matter that much in the realm of getting sex with a woman.

Likewise, the anus of most people is also accommodating of a variety of penis sizes, making homosexual sex also not particularly problematic for the majority of penis sizes.

I will include a bit of honesty here, though. To some men and women, penis size will matter. There is another feature of arousal that many women and even some men report during sexual encounters and that is the desire to be ‘filled.’ This desire in some people can reinforce the notion that size has a value to them in their sex lives. This, however, doesn’t change the average penis size or what the majority wants.

If you do happen to have a small penis and you’re worried about your sex life, don’t use your penis as a lure to get someone in bed with you. Acquire other skills and use those when you’re ready for sex with someone. Being good at foreplay is something every man should learn and don’t be afraid to use sex toys. Learn a variety of sexual skills as well. Find out what your partner is into beforehand so you can cater to his or her desires before you get to intercourse. During intercourse, doggie style or positions with your partner on their back that draw the knees up or toward the head will allow you to go deeper (simply because this pushes down on the pelvic organs, squishing them a bit and it gives you the best access to your partner’s genitals).

It is best not to worry about the appearance of the size of your junk, especially when you’re soft (because that size varies tremendously and has very little relationship to the size when you’re erect). If you are worried, though, you can shave your pubic hair before a date and suggest a hot shower when you’re ready to get naked with a partner (the hot shower will warm your body and your genitals will adjust according to temperature – the warmth also allows for increased blood flow).

The reality is, men shouldn’t rely on penis size to be a major factor in their sex lives. Men with large penises may be just as good or bad in bed as the next guy is, and the skill to please your partner is going to be a more important factor in the long run.

And, that being said, I’m going to sit here and autofellate my 2.5 foot, inflatable cock.


This isn’t a typical topic for my website, but I’m putting it here for lack of a better place to put it. I need to write and share today and I will get back to my normal self soon enough.

Once upon a time, there were two boys who attended a small school in Oregon. One was the burliest little boy in the class and the other was a scrawny, skinny, little farm boy, J. The big boy, R, was the class bully and he had been harassing the skinny little new kid all day long. His constant abuse was so overwhelming that the deep tension made J shake with anger, which came out in full-force when R finally picked a fight at the end of the day. Tumbling around on the ground, the boys fought hard and even though R was so much bigger and stronger than J, J was able to keep up and withstand the fists that rained down on him. Ultimately, the fight was a draw. The boys fought until they were both exhausted and then they went home. The next day, they were friends.

That’s basically the story I was told when I was a child and my uncle and dad talked about how they became friends. Filled with expressions of awe toward each other, my dad and uncle would tease each other affectionately about the circumstances behind their friendship. My dad took the bully out of R and R developed a profound respect for my dad. From that point forward, the two had a bond that was never to come undone.

I can remember sitting around R’s house when I was a little girl, watching my mother become increasingly angry as my dad and uncle told my siblings and I how they built cherry bombs and blew up outhouses and other small structures during their childhood. My mother was terrified that one of us children would actually build a bomb and blow something up. My mother’s eyes would bug out, her face would turn red and she would begin lecturing and pointing at my dad and uncle with the wooden spoon that seemed to constantly be in her hand. “You just wait, J,” she would say, “if your sons blow up the garden, it’s your doing!” My mom was funny when she was angry and whenever one of us did something wrong, we were always dad’s kids. Dad’s kids did bad things; Mom’s kids were angels. My dad and uncle R, who was always happy and jolly (the closest to a Santa Claus persona that I’ve ever seen) would always just laugh at her.

My uncle also had one of the coolest jobs that we knew of as children. He built race cars. Not only did he build race cars, he worked in ‘the pit’ and helped fix them when they were trying to win races. It wasn’t until he had to get a pacemaker that he was forced to quit his exciting job, leaving the family business to his son to take over. He still had epic stories to tell and he and my father would exchange tales for hours when they were given the chance.

My father is not an emotional person. A hardened veteran, a Marine, the only two times I have seen him cry was when my mother died and when my grandfather died. Even in hours of him telling me the horrors he experienced when at war; even when he told me of the horrible time he had holding dying children and the pain of having nails driven through parts of his body when he was a prisoner of war, he never cried. This morning, he was crying. His dear friend, the only person left from his childhood, the man who had always been there, was gone.

Listening to the sobs of an old man this morning, and recalling memories of my ever-jolly uncle has left me in an odd emotional state. I wish so very much that I had something to offer my father to make him feel better. It has suddenly occurred to me how very fragile he is; how fragile my uncle had become. I’m going to miss my uncle very much. My dad’s pain cuts into me as deeply as the loss of my uncle, and I’m worried.

I like the cave exploration-like feel of a fractal. Who wants to go fractal spelunking with me?

I like the cave exploration-like feel of a fractal. Who wants to go fractal spelunking with me?

Originally posted 1-17-09

As you may have noticed, I’m adding a ton of content at once today. I will probably slow down a little and post only a couple posts per day for a while. I’ve had a lot of requests to bring my writing from other places all together on to Sex and Science, especially my comic. After some careful consideration and lots and lots of pondering, I decided it seemed like a reasonable idea. As a result I will be adding old writing that I’ve done elsewhere. I won’t, however, keep it all in order, because I have my favorites as much as anyone else and because I like the random nostalgia more than organized. Enjoy the glimpses into my past!


If you can no longer convince children that they came from a stork, then it makes sense to let them think their mother's belly just directly opens.

So how many pregnant women can I get to dream about this?

The worst controversy, actually, over the Happy Family ™ Midge dolls was that the original box the doll came in didn’t portray her husband and other child. People were concerned about Midge being a single mom and so Mattel had to focus on how wonderful the whole FAMILY was. So Mattel had to add in a little cardboard representation of the father and other child into the Midge & baby box. It doesn’t matter that most families don’t match the Happy Family stereotype. I wonder how isolated kids feel when their family doesn’t match … There are no single dad Barbies and no Single mom Barbies because apparently we can’t trust kids to deal with reality and instead must teach them the judgemental side of life where there is a famlial ideal that all should aspire to while most fail, thus, giving the world yet another reason to discriminate.

Originally Posted: October 04, 2008

Because I'm the Goddess, That's Why!

I think it looks better.

Originally Posted June 26, 2008

I have no idea what I was thinking that day.

I have no idea what I was thinking that day.

Not all of my ideas are good. Also, I’m not an artist, I just sometimes think I’m funny. I keep myself entertained.

Originally posted May, 25, 08

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