Wednesday, May 2
Tin Angel
Philadelphia, PA
Hosted by Swirl Magazine
Angela Motter,� Philly piano man Steve Cohen and Dave Hall, New York City

Friday, May 4
Fire & Water
Northampton, MA, 8pm
venue phone: 413-586-8336
venue address: 5 Old South Street

Sunday, May 6
Valentine's Music Hall
Albany, NY
doors @ 8pm, show @ 9pm
Performers: Gooselove & Antara, Angela Motter, and two local TBAs, $5 cover

I've known Angela, a stunning blues/funk guitarist and vocalist, for more than 10 years now. And if you go to her website, you'll know why I've had a crush on her all these years. Yowza. Look at those arms.

And I don't promote her just because she's so fucking hot. Besides having a beautiful voice, unique style (she is NOT just another girl with a guitar) and songwriting ability, she is a gracious and warm-hearted person with humilty out the wazoo. Because I donated a measley 50 bucks (a lot for me at the time) to help fund her first CD, "Pleasure and Pain", she thanked me by name in her liner notes. Now that's cool.

For those of you with audio download capabilities, it looks like she's got samples available, too. "Damn Your Eyes" and "Mama I'm Afraid to Go There" (by Etta James) are two of my faves. Just know that her recordings DO NOT do her live performances justice. The recordings are a little too produced for my taste. I like it raw. There's just nothing like hearing a woman with such a great vocal range, sliding a metal capo on her index finger down a set of strings to create that gut-thrumming blues guitar sound. And the gender-bending doesn't hurt either.

So anyone in Philly, Northampton, or Albany, get out there and see her! You won't regret it.

Grouse has graciously invited Deb and me out to dinner if we ever find ourselves out on the motorcycle in the neighborhood of the Continental Divide. Well, we would love to. I've always wanted to see that area of the country. We may have to go by some other mode than motorcycle, though. While our little Suzuki Savage 650 may technically be able to make that distance, I'm afraid my butt isn't. It gets pretty fried after 40 or 50 miles on that bike.

Grouse, we wholeheartedly return the invitation to you and your wife. Maybe there will be a convention for wildlife biologists in Atlanta one day. Or even just an extended layover.

I frequently find myself smiling when I read Grouse recount the details of his day or thoughts of the moment. I think it reminds me of my father's qualities. He was a man who was familiar with the realities of the world, yet he retained a gentle consideration toward all things, and he was always happy to share his generous store of knowledge.

And I truly would love to see those red heelers drag racing. I had a border collie when I was a kid. Our property lot was pretty big (1.5 acres I think, or was it 3?), and half of it was wooded. One neighbor had a chain link fence that ran the whole length of that side. On the other side was a horse farm with brood mares.

Echo would tear up and down that chain link fence, giving the miniature poodles on the other side a good solid run. Back and forth, back and forth, for as long as they could keep going. The horse farm had electric fencing that she could easily slip through, and so she often came home with a good coat of fresh manure. Whew. It's not much fun trying to hose fresh shit off a long-haired dog.

One day Echo was tearing through the woods and nearly put a stick through her ear. Watching the vet swab all the blood away was the one time I almost fainted. I was 12 or 13 at the time.

And when it was time to wake me up for school, my mother would say, "Go get Badsnake" [except she didn't actually call me that], and Echo would scramble down the hallway, throw open my bedroom door with her nose, jump on top of me in bed and basically pound me with her front paws until I got up. When I went to college, Dad took over ownership and they spent many fine days at my grandfather's farm, tromping around and taking care of things. She was a good dog.

If we ever fulfill our dream of finding a big house in the country�big enough for the four of us with lots of land around it�I'd love to have another working dog. They're so amazingly smart and eager to do their job. I'm not a bit surpised that the heelers know the phrase "exit the domocile" or that they learn spelled-out words on a regular basis.

Whoo. Long entry today, but this is the final topic. I got a queery in my guestbook about why I'm so obsessed with dildoes. Well, I'm afraid the questioner has a bit of a misconception. The dicks are just another tool in the box, if you know what I mean. But they are fun to candidly talk about. Hardly anybody else does. There's such a shameful stigma attached to them, poor guys.

But I don't use them all the time. In fact, wherever you read about Sara ejaculating and the wanton destruction of bed linens and bed pads, I was working without a rod. Solo manos. (Mano is the Spanish word for hand, right? It's been nearly 20 years since my last Spanish lesson.) On a couple rare occasions, female ejaculation has occurred with dildo stimulation, but really, that's a rarity.

I'd say about half the time or more I don't bother to strap on. For one thing, the metal buckles on that harness can be freakin' cold on my bare skin. Whether I do or don't is usually based on my knowledge or perception of what my partner is in the mood for on that particular day. When I roleplay a male character, I strap on about 60 to 70 percent of the time.

And then there are times when my lover will look me in the eyes and say, "I want your hands." Ungh. *Badsnake shakes herself out of reverie.*

When I do pack for a date, you can bet there's a lot of hand action thrown in as well. Hands are just too versatile not to use. But I do enjoy using my dildoes, in all their various sizes and colors. They help me let my inner-man cut loose. And the girls seem to like them, which is what really counts.