The Rhi-Post – Edition 3

A Letter From The Editor, Rhian

At long last the Rhi-Post returns for Edition # 3.
Thank you to all the contributors, readers and supporters.
We endeavor to return to a more frequent publication, please enjoy this

In this Issue:

A Rebel Without A Pause
by Butch Rosser, DJBrotherDarkness
s1s5: Girl Talk, About The Passion

“The best ideas are common property.”

“I can’t tell you what it really is
I can only tell you what it feels like.”
–Marshall Mathers

I’m halfway to slumped over in a chair, and I literally have no idea what’s possessing me after what I’ve seen and done tonight to keep me upright and conscious to spit this out in the dark of the night other than the fact I’m a vampire. All I know is what it feels like:

like some celestial bully took my ribcage and shook it upside down for lunch money, a process that started some 7 hours ago and shows no signs of abating
like John Cena slammed a chair full-speed between my shoulderblades when my back was turned in front of 15,000 strong at a Monday Night Raw
like my eyes don’t have an X and Y axis but’re rather marbles being fiddled by a nervous suspect in a precinct
like my jaw will never hinge again
like every single part of my legs from the Calvin Kleins down is hanging on by mere strings and no longer full tendons
like a goat headbutted me in my right ankle

There’s so much to remember. So much.

Read More

Photo: by Uncast

Meet Sunshineblonde

by Sunshineblonde

I was asked months ago to be part of the Rhi-Post and I was so excited about it. I had planned on whipping out a quick piece to contribute to the first edition. However, for the first time in my life, I had writers block! For anyone who knows me knows that I always
have something to say and have a hard time staying quiet! It was so strange to feel like I had nothing to say. I think about it now and wonder if it was stress induced writers block caused by my job? I will never know for sure. I first thought about writing a column
dealing with things in the medical field, since that is what I do. I have extensive medical knowledge and thought about doing some sort of Q & A. I decided to scrap that idea.

One thing I would like to do is give you a brief run down on my life.

Read More

Photo: by Uncast
The Bay, uncast’s work view

 by Andrea Costanzo AKA The Junkenstien

The Break-Up and The Lovers Re-United

My love relationship with music, my lover and partner, during the best and worst years of my life,
was, recently, put to the test.

So many bands creating mediocrity where they once weaved simple patterns of pure emotion that
(like only music can do) spoke to my soul, without the need of any language, that wasn’t notes and vibes.

Read More

Photo: by Uncast

French Fry Man

Dance Like EVERYONE is Watching
By Rhian
My mother always says I was dancing before I was walking. Hell, she says I was dancing in womb. All I wanted to do was dance, music was all over the house, it was such a gift to appreciate all kinds of music, very young.

I started my first dance classes, tap, jazz, and baton. The tap recital piece was to ‘Short People’, our costumes were little white pants, suit jacket and top hat. One of the girls never closed her top buttons. I thought she was a slut. I was 5. My mom asked me if I wanted to take other things for a session as she was a dancer too and not wanting to push me into her direction. I was horrible at skating and my father fashioned a crash pad for my wee butt. I took gymnastics, which I liked, but still I just wanted to dance.

Read More


The Rhi-Post – Edition 2

Thank you for returning to The Rhi-Post! We have  a variety of contributors with a variety of topics, which is what The Rhi-Post is all about.

Sit back, enjoy, have a drink or two, and follow the links from our writers.


– Rhian

In this issue:

Heartagrams: “ I did a bad, bad thing….”
by Andrea Costanzo aka @TheJunkenstein

Well, ignoring my recently saddened financial situation, lately i decided top act like an irresponsible 18 year old and bnuy a tiocket for a big, costly concert. In this case, it’s the italian “One date only” (as it seems, a lot of recent shows are, in Italy) stop of The Big Four, namely Metallica, Slayer, Megadeth and Anthrax. So not only its a show, its a Metal Show.

Read More….

Learning How to Let Go
by Lushrain

It took me a long time to learn to let things go and even longer to actually let them go. Even now I still hold on to things.  For me being able to let small things slide and not hold on to hurt feelings has made me a much happier person.

Read More…

Sexual Health and Chronic Pain
by Jules from

I remember the first time I heard the line “not tonight, I have a headache”. I was too young to have any idea what it meant. Everyone around me laughed, so I laughed too. It wasn’t until much later, when I understood what it meant, that it made even less sense to me. I wished from that moment on I could go back to not knowing what that lame line meant.

Read More…

Rebel Without A Pause– s1e5: This Isn’t Happening?
by BrotherDarkness AKA Butch Rosser

You can imagine I was pleasantly stunned when I found out my last column had earned me a fan who asked the justifiable question “What in the world possibly goes on in (my) brain?” (italics and parenthesis mine)  Somebody who cared asked and as usual I feel compelled to answer honestly.

I’m awake.  It’s almost 9:30 am.

It’s too early for me.

And I am goddamned hungover.

Read More…

by Blondeinred

With Blondeinred the naughty Aussie with her finger on…. The pulse of the adult novelty industry.

I’m the Blondeinred – KATG devotee (more about devoteeism in a later addition) and adult store worker here in Brisbane Australia. Each edition I will bring you a toy review and some cheeky ways that you can spice up your “self love” or raise the temperature of your partner play. My ethos behind toys is that every toy you invest your hard earned cash in should have at least three ways of using it, so as to get more bang for your buck, yank for your yen or pounding for your pound. So lets rock this out lets Lube-RHI-cated.

Read more…

by Rhian, Editor

Everyone has someone that has impacted them in some way. I used to run in fairly high-profile circles, and people of celebrity or such status never phased me. We are all just people. As long as you aren’t a jackass for the sake of being a jackass or hiding the true you to harm others, we’ll probably get along. At least I will go in with the intent to like you. Cross me though, no matter who you are, we are done.

Read More…

The Method
by Dean from Australia

Every now and then, there are certain books, films and/or music, which I have always enjoyed, that I return to whenever I am feeling in an emotional trough. I often hit these troughs…perhaps more so lately because, as I approach my middle 30’s I find myself feeling less sure of myself than ever. I can’t explain what it is…well…perhaps I can. There have been a number of critical incidences in my life that I can relate that have surely shaped me into the person I am now. It is the books, the movies and the music that I have grown up with that serve me well as a therapy. They lift me up or, alternatively, they allow me to wallow for a time in my sadness or otherwise. Even sadness can be therapeutic…to a point.

Read More….

Heartagrams: “ I did a bad, bad thing….”

by Andrea Costanzo aka @TheJunkenstein

Well, ignoring my recently saddened financial situation, lately I decided to act like an irresponsible 18 year old and buy a ticket for a big, costly concert. In this case, it’s the italian “One date only” (as it seems, a lot of recent shows are, in Italy) stop of The Big Four, namely Metallica, Slayer, Megadeth and Anthrax. So not only its a show, its a Metal Show.

I’ve treated myself to a bunch of musical happenings in the past, maybe more than what i can afford. Seen The Rolling Stones jam in an auditorium with botched sounds, Keith Richards stammering with maybe the last legal public cigarette of that age. Watched Bruce Springsteen replay his classic tunes for the millionth time while still acting like a jacked up teen in front of an audience that mixed youngsters with old crotchety dudes that still wanted to Rock before the night fell down, and their dayjob ate their soul.

Still, Metalheads know that a Metal Show, especially one where you’re seeing a band that helped you grow up sane and balanced, has the force of a shamanic ritual. Metallica fit the description pretty well. Still everyone has its own guardian set of guitar slingers. Contrary to the public clichée, most of metal audiences are lovely, nice hearted and safe individuals. Yes Moshpit can be harsh, if you’re dealing with elbowing amateurs, but in general they’ll be like a family of caring teddy bears to you, whether you’re a newbie or a timid girl, or a seasoned professional.

They are friendly and chatty. Sometimes you just need to have a shirt they like to start a conversation. They’ll offer you beers, hug you and treat you as a brother, no matter where you’re from. Their family is even warmer than a real one. I never felt alone at a Metal Show. It was more than music, it was a gathering of equals.

Lately, things have gotten harsher. The new generation is more aggressive, drunker and meaner. They don’t know how to react, they start fights, they get obnoxious. Although I’m pretty sure that the seasoned forty year old metal pro, with an old leather jacked with crusty hand made logos, a balding head of hair and a toddler with tiny Slayer pyjamas will put those whippersnappers in their place.

I’ll meet you there dad. Devil Horns.

Learning How to Let Go

by Lushrain

It took me a long time to learn to let things go and even longer to actually let them go. Even now I still hold on to things.  For me being able to let small things slide and not hold on to hurt feelings has made me a much happier person.

I have found that most of us hold on to these feelings for the following 4 reasons:

The inability to forgive
Letting go isn’t the same as forgiveness. You can let something go without forgiving the person who has hurt you. Holding on to things people can’t change and still hoping that time will turn back and things will be different does no good for you or them. If they have apologized sincerely and you think they won’t do it again, let it go and forgive them. If you think they will do it again let it go and either try to help them not repeat those actions or let it go. You will remember it when you need to.

—–Want to punish those who have done you wrong
The harsh truth is the world has many selfish people who do bad things that go unpunished. Allowing yourself to hold all of this negative energy when it won’t change the situation isn’t going to help you at all. You are giving them the power by allowing their actions to affect your life in a ripple past their misdeeds.

—–Not wanting the same thing to happen again
You think holding on to these emotions will allow you to protect yourself from being hurt again. Where it  that might be true, it is also stopping you from being open again to good feelings and emotions.

—-Easier to hold on to it than to let it go
Holding on to anger/frustration/hurt at someone and not letting it out in any constructive way isn’t helping yourself. These feelings are just making you more angry/frustrated/sad and taking up your valuable time. When we let go of useless anger/frustrations it frees up our mind/spirit for awesome great things to come our way. We are opening ourselves to love and meaningful relationships.

If you notice each of those reasons really feed off of each other. We won’t forgive someone until we feel they have been sufficiently punished. However, holding on to grudges, hurt, anger is unproductive and destructive to your own self. It will cause you stress, sickness, and sadness.

Productive ways to purge these feelings:

—-Talking to the person who has wronged you in a calm matter:
It is easy to approach the person who has wronged you with mean words and elevated voice but in the end it just puts you as the aggressor and them as the victim. You won’t get the response you want with yelling or insulting. Direct and calm approach is usually the most effective way.

—-Venting with caution:
I try to vent to be able to  get these feelings out as quickly as possible and if I can rectify the situation quickly I will.  You also need to realize things need to  calm down to decide an appropriate response. It helps to have someone who is impartial to help decipher what an appropriate response is and if one is even necessary. Venting may help you expunge all of these emotions.  You will also need to be cognisant of yourself when you are using the venting as a way to get yourself more riled and when it truly helps.

—-Choosing your battles
It will take lots of time to figure out the battles to fight. In my personal experience I realize that the battles I want to fight are so inconsequential. When I engage a battle that is just down right silly , I try to apologize to the person who I have gotten angry, and as quickly as possible after I have engaged them. It is helpful to think if  a) coming to them will fix the situation  b)what do you want fixed  c) is there a compromise that can be reached

I am not saying doing this stuff is easy. It is easy to want to crawl back into the negative space.  It is still hard for me to let go of things that bother me or people who do me wrong.

Things I do every day to think positively about my life:

–Daily happy list of things that make me feel good that day. Bad things will happen to me and it may suck and I may cry and feel hopeless. Trying to find the good in a hopeless occasion is usually that one ray that will help me pull through to the happy again.

–Disassociate and not engage with people who cultivate negativity. If I can avoid people who are constantly negative I will. I also will not engage their negative emotions if I have to deal with them. I will try to be as positive and happy as I can around them.

–Focus some of my energy making sure the people around me feel loved and are taken care of. I think most of us do this but I really try hard to let people in my life who may not know (or heard from me in a while) that I am sincerely thinking about them and love them.

I understand that these tasks may be hard for some and it may be easier on me since my head is a bit more logical but I can testify that my life has been filled with so much joy since I have let go of negativity.

Sexual Health and Chronic Pain

by Jules from

I remember the first time I heard the line “not tonight, I have a headache”. I was too young to have any idea what it meant. Everyone around me laughed, so I laughed too. It wasn’t until much later, when I understood what it meant, that it made even less sense to me. I wished from that moment on I could go back to not knowing what that lame line meant.

I have never, in my life understood making excuses for not having sex. If you don’t want to have sex, simply say “Hey, I don’t really feel like doing it tonight, I’ll give you a have a rain check.” If you are not in a place in your relationship where you can be that open with your partner, I can tell you right now that using pain as an excuse is really not the way to go, trust me. Pain is not your excuse to skip sex. Rather, pain is your reason to have more sex.

Before you write me off as totally nuts, give me a few paragraphs to explain myself.

There is no way I am saying that regardless of your level of pain you should be always saying “yes” to sex. I am not saying that you should ignore your discomfort and say “yes” to sex even if you aren’t feeling up to it. What I am telling you is that there are many ways that sex and intimacy can help you to overcome pain.

I am not a doctor. I don’t even play one on TV or the Internet. I am a person. I am a woman. I have chronic pain, I am married, and I like to have sex. So I speak on those simple levels of authority. I know what I know based on my experience and on some research. This is research you can do too, if you want to.

Let’s start with the silly headache story. Research at Columbia University (and bedrooms all over the world) shows that orgasm releases endorphins which in turn can relieve and often remove the offending headache.

Obviously, I have made a simple statement with far reaching implications. I can take the endorphin releasing orgasm now and apply it to so many different aches and pains across the body. Tiny steps in logic tell us we have some great medicine here in the endorphin. We even know where to get it.

That does not solve another problem: when it hurts enough that you don’t even want to go there.

Ya, I hear you.

You don’t have to start with the full fireworks show, you can start with sparklers. This is especially true if your chronic pain has kept you from intimacy for an extended period. It might be awkward and painful to try it all at once. Many couples that experience chronic pain or any chronic illness in the relationship have grown apart on this level and will have to work to achieve intimacy again. It’s almost like you are a new couple again. Don’t expect that you are going to pick up where you left off before the pain started.

You can start slowly and still get some benefit from our friend the happy endorphin. This is not a “go big or go home” situation. What are you most physically and emotionally comfortable with?

Here are some simple suggestions:

Just One Part: Hands, Feet, Neck, Shoulders. Pick a part you would like touched, or rubbed. Use a lotion or oil you both like the smell and feel of and take turns massaging just that part for each other. There is no pressure to go any further than just that part.

Hair Brushing: I don’t know about you but I love having my hair brushed. 5 minutes of having my hair brushed can be both intimate and calming. Later if you want to combine that with some other things… well ya…

Bathing: Showing or taking a bath together can be fantastic. If this is still too intimate after an extended period of no intimacy, perhaps even some time in the hot tub?

Talking About It: There is a reason that “sexting” and phone sex are so popular. Words are very powerful. Why not create a comfortable environment for your words. Sit together, lay together in the dark and hold hands, or sit in different rooms and text, whatever works for you: now use your words. You never know where it will lead, wherever it goes: let it.

The goal here is also, in part, distraction. Intimacy and closeness with your partner is an excellent distraction from this lousy chronic pain. You are able to work with your body in a way that is pleasurable instead of painful.

I started this project with the singular goal of compiling other articles. Then I wanted to write an introduction for those links, then this happened. My goodness. So, here are some articles by people that are probably a lot smarter and better qualified than I am on this subject:

How People In Chronic Pain Can Revive Their Sex Lives

Sexuality and Chronic Pain: Mayo Clinic

Chronic Pain and Sex: A couple’s fibromyalgia story

Wired.Com: When Sex Is A Pain

What to do when Pain Meds Dull Your Sex Life

7 Reasons Sex Does A Body Good

Thank you @cinnamaldehyde and @beyondempathy for your inspiration

Rebel Without A Pause– s1e5: This Isn’t Happening?

by BrotherDarkness AKA Butch Rosser

You can imagine I was pleasantly stunned when I found out my last column had earned me a fan who asked the justifiable question “What in the world possibly goes on in (my) brain?” (italics and parenthesis mine)  Somebody who cared asked and as usual I feel compelled to answer honestly.

I’m awake.  It’s almost 9:30 am.

It’s too early for me.

And I am goddamned hungover.

If I hadn’t remembered I was hungover, I would know it now, because there’s a facsimile Lincoln hat on my nightstand which is shining a little bit in the early morning sunlight and holding two bags of chips I got at a party last night.  You see, last night somebody I barely knew who didn’t remember the time we met last year was having her birthday party at a hot new club in town.  I spent yesterday doing not much, while things got done: business e-mails for the future, hot tracks I want to play in the club &/or in my personal life, recovering from heartbreak, wondering if I knew the next girl, backtabbing where I’m going to move to later, et al.

But none of those things were my focus yesterday.  They were merely planets orbiting the sun of my main thought: do I go to this birthday party at a hot new club in town where somebody I barely know probably isn’t going to remember the time we met last year?  A Costanzian dystopia spit out innumerable reactions and mudslides of personal humiliation, professional embarrassment, social awkwardness, and acute discomfort in anything from the possibly of badly made drinks made by bartenders new to me to running into an ex-girlfriend or some sort of single-serving friend I’d bumped uglies with a time or six.

In addition to THAT, I knew for a fact that I would be having happy hour two blocks away far before the party and that I would have actual friends at a little dive bar where my friend was singing some jazz standards a block away from this party and would be highly likely to show up at that event at some point in the evening as well.

The thought still centered about do I go to this particular party or not, and you know what choice I ended up making.  But let’s follow that answer with Occam’s Question: why?

The answer to Occam’s Question centers around part of the reason why I’ve been up for mere moments, groaning lowly the whole time, rueing the effect of all the free drinks I downed almost as much as the fact I’m in this bed alone and it occurs to me that while I’m not the only person going through some form of this mindset right now that the only person who really understands me at this moment is James Murphy.

The name isn’t familiar except to music cognoscenti like me, so let me see if I can get more eyeballs into this tent–James Murphy is the founder and lead singer and multi-armed instrumentalist behind LCD Soundsystem.  For the past five years his lyrics have become less things that pass through my ears and more things that’ve wrapped themselves around my heart and brain.  And now, of course, he’s leaving to go on to the next thing in his life.  Maybe a new band, despite all his clucking to the contrary, or maybe just settling back into position in his leadership role guiding DFA Records and the likes of Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Hot Chip, maybe dropping a dope remix banger here or there.  This isn’t going to be a hipster diatribe about James moving on with his life and leaving me in the lurch to sip champagne out of the asses of supermodels on 56-foot yachts; this is going to be a weird, small piece about how he exposed me to a new life before I even got into it, is the soundtrack for it, taught me all sorts of major and minor truths, and now that he’s gone…who’s going to do it?

You see, at first I was just a guy who was borderline obsessive about music (to the absolute surprise of everyone reading this, I’m sure) who admired DJs and went to clubs.  But while I knew top 40 stuff, that wasn’t my world.  Old school hip hop was my world.  Maybe classic rock.  Maybe stuff I didn’t know & knew I couldn’t do, some ineffable sound of the future yet to be realized.

And then somebody dropped Losing My Edge on me, a hilarious seven-and-a-half minute Bizarro World version of Sympathy For The Devil in which the protagonist, voiced by Murphy over beats I could’ve made on a Casio when I was 5 can’t focus on the fact he’s virtually introduced Nico to Lou Reed or Fab Five Freddy to Deborah Harry or started kicking Daft Punk tracks at gigs in the deserted, uncool part of town known as Brooklyn.  I’m losing my edge, he complains.  The cool kids are coming up from behind.  I’m losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.

This would’ve been a moment to bail on this oddball paranoia until he added the cruelest of poison-tipped knives in the heart with the next line: And they’re actually…really, really nice.

It took me a few listens of Losing My Edge to figure that he wasn’t making fun of the scene he was in or loved it to realize he was doing both, and throwing in some jabs at a mirror, too.  The sloppy Kraftwerkian funk that was propelling the track was intentional, the namedrop binge was as well, the lyrics that inverted and flipped on themselves was all part of the plan, and after I listened to Losing My Edge a few times I realized that the author, whoever they were and whatever fears they had in their head, was far from realizing the title.  I loved the style and lack thereof, was amused by the lyrics, and figured I would never hear from them again.

You know, something along the lines of the same train of thought I had after I heard Yellow for the first time.  Whatever happened to that sleepy-eyed Thom Yorke wannabe, anyhow?

And while LCD Soundsystem proceeded to blow up off of the also-funny but way more funky Daft Punk Is Playing At My House, it was the more inward Tribulations that won the honors on the self-titled debut for me, and explains why I am cursing the light and wishing for the darkness: downtempo as shit and full of wry frustration directed at SOMEBODY (muse?  lover?  ex?  producer?  friend? some mix-and-match combo of the aforelisted?) about mistakes that seem to keep on sticking, the way mistakes can haunt the soul as a ghost, and the seminal line for me off the song and album:

But it feels alright as long as something’s happening.

This hit me between jobs and off a breakup caused in part by being between jobs.  As I was starting to leave the conventional world and starting to build playlists.  As DJing friends would make me their bathroom break at the club and let me get on, a song here, two songs there, a small 15 minutes there while they lit up in the back alley or had their cupcake on the moment spit-polish their theme park in the bathroom.  But I kept the crowd going.  I swallowed down a continent’s worth of nerves and got competent.  I started going out more and watching more DJs.  I played some more here and there and stretched my hard drive to the breaking point with mp3s through all these trials and tribulations and started getting one-off payments from the nation.  I floated through day jobs as a hint of a cypher, but like Wheelchair Jimmy would do with less panache down the road I came alive in the nighttime to see the best DJs in the world, to drop a track here or there, to make other people lose themselves in the sound–well, not exactly the way I got lost in the sound because that way lays madness of psychotics, geniuses, and psychotic geniuses–but that they too would hear something, or something unexpected, and they could leave behind the ex and the bullshit day job and the mounting pressures of bills and the weird mixture of joy and envy that follows engagements, all of that.

I could turn up the soundsystem a little more and let them drop their infernal internal Rube Goldberg Mobius strips like bags on the stoop after a long vacation.

James was right: it always feels alright as long as something’s happening.  This is why I creep the streets at night more often than not, because I know what happens in the darkness of my mind and heart in my own residence–at some point, I have to face the fact I’m alone and 38 in white people years and I may have just blown it again.  No matter what awesome projects beckon in the future, no matter what interesting mashups I work on, no matter what friends reach out to me at the end of it you look into a monitor long enough and all you can see is your face sometimes.  So gimme some mirth!  Let me go out into the streets I’ve been in a thousand times that’ve changed 900 times, let me hobnob people barely a step up from virtual strangers, let me sip horribly overpriced cocktails at a rooftop in a place I hate but I’ll go when I can get in for free because my friend is on the decks, let me make a serious of possibly funny bon mots that lead to me crowning myself “the KING of 19th century assassination jokes” and look at my bedstand in momentary confusion the next day because Something’s Happening.

When I first started listening to LCD?  It feels like 13 lives ago.  That iteration of me bears a resemblance, but that’s all external.  Inside, I feel much different, like I’ve played Face/Off with myself in both roles using the past and the present and the future as the character archtypes. When Sound Of Silver came out as the second release from Murphy & Co. it was feted with the usual rave reviews from all the tastemakers, who pointed to the buyoant fun of the “Daft Punk”-esque North American Scum that was also touched upon in the title track and the epic that closed the album, New York, I Love You, But I’m Bringing You Down.  Those are some of my favorite tracks for all the reasons most people give, but it’s not my favorite track on the album, my favorite LCD song of all the times.

And I’m sure you’ll be unbelievably shocked to find that my favorite LCD song is the one song in the past five years that has made me cry.  In fact, almost nothing has made me cry in the past five years through some really shitstormy times and I can’t think of a counterargument to that.  But this song did it.  Every once in a great while, it still does.

All My Friends is Losing My Edge with every trace of the humor removed to the point where it, too, comes in at about seven and a half minutes, and it described what when I first heard it was Murphy’s average night in New York City, a night that begins around 11, maybe 10:30 since the city never sleeps.  (Oh, those lucky bastards who don’t have to close down at 1:30!  To quote a Hollywood friend of mine, San Diego will never be New Orleans.  Mostly because we see the ocean instead of get choked to death by it.)  But the thing about All My Friends that makes me cry is I feel that in it’s totality it best describes what my life is and has become, for better and for worse.  THIS life.  Not the one I was living when I first heard Edge, but life as I live it this moment down to the annoyingly loud clack that comes from my hitting keystroke to keyboard.  In fact, it’s playing in the background because I haven’t heard it in days, and despite the fact most of my life is looking up and it’s a brilliant day outside now I’m still fighting off tears a bit.

I cannot understate this: everyone would understand me better if they listened to this song.

It begins with going somewhere that isn’t your home to see how people — some of whom are probably your friends or have at least acted that way to your face in the recent past — have ranked you in a list, and then spinning a reaction to their reactions.  It ends with the plaintive hope that probably isn’t coming true of If I could see all my friends tonight. In the middle, it talks about the awkwardness of aging, the 21st century attempt to control fate known as the five-year plan, and the possibility all the fun you’re cramming in now becomes “this is tired” two hours from now, or less–in fact, it’s the underhanging fulcrum the entirety of the song/my life swings upon.

It should be noted: some times I go out and it is excellent.  It’s not a P. Diddy video, but it’s a tremendously good time.  It’s like the dinner scene in Goodfellas where Pesci tells the waiter to fuck his mother.  If I were to replay my memories in stillshot or video form the next day, it would be full of weird and interesting conversations, pretty women, drinks flowing (most of which I didn’t pay full price for), good music, broad smiles, no hassles at the door, a possible tumble in a bed (though this has gotten somewhat increasingly unnecessary as time goes on to me), a 24-hour Mexican food place to refuel, the sunrise being the last thing I see as I close my eyes.  You’re probably my friend on Facebook.  You’ve seen that photostream.

When it’s going badly, however, it’s going badly.  I don’t even mean the one time I got a drink thrown in my face (deserved, by the way), I mean the death by a thousand paper cuts where the hype emperor has no clothes.  Things’re just off, egos bruised, EDM, and being so fed up with the scene and your place in it you ditch the scene in media res only to get home and find out, oh, by the way, you’re not happy here either and there you sit in the dark being a vampire.

Being a vampire.

I have new slang to reflect my new life now.

The term “being a vampire” in my eyes when LCD first dropped was really just a synonym for what’s known as goth.  Now, that’s not the term I mean.  When I say being a vampire, it means leading a lifestyle based on being in some way part of the scene.  Photogs, DJs, writers, bartenders, go-go dancers, security guys, ad infinitum.  The people who keep the pulse going at the cost of being connected to a large part of most of the civilized world, all the freaks who come out at night.  All of my friends at nights.   If you’re more reachable at 10 pm than 10 am, if your alarm’s set for the crack of noon, if you look at people in general admission lines and chortle inwardly or outwardly, if you’ve ever had the Serato v. Vinyl discussion for consecutive seconds, VAMPYR!  But again, that’s a vampire in my eyes.  Most people?  Most people are civilians.  And now I’m beginning to refer to them as such, which raises an interesting question: since most people are civilians, most of my friends would have to be civilians, too, wouldn’t they?

And they are.

It’s taking a bit of a psychic toll, honestly.  I want to hang out with my long-time friends.  I want the messy interior of their lives and how they keep marriages going and children alive.  (I want to look at that from the outside, mind you.  Unless you’re ScarJo you probably shouldn’t expect me to be ready for all of that anytime soon.)  I want to remember all the stuff we talked about 13, 21, 45 lives ago and make old, familiar jokes about those times.

The problem is I love being a vampire too much at the end of the day, bad times and self-flagellation aside.  In the choice between the future and the past I am opting for door #1 — not without regret, but firmly nonetheless.  And more times than not, I don’t see all of my friends, or for that matter many of them, at least not with the frequency that I used to.  And it does get frustrating to be awesome in a vacuum and not have a familiar face of a “normie” you call friend lighting up back at you.

It can be punishingly lonely.  But when it’s not — when things, and in my case sometimes myself — when things are on it’s tiger blood wrapped in Adonis DNA dipped in cocaine served off of Scarlett Johansson it’s so good.  Like every other junkie in the history of mankind you chase the hit for the times where all the mental self-laceration and world worry just falls to the wayside and you feel like King Awesome Of Awesomestan decreeing that the Royal Card was BUILT for times like these, serf, and put some more grog on there for me and all the knights and princesses of my realm.

The best LCD Soundsystem lyrics reflect both of these sides of the coin, sometimes in the same song, sometimes in the same line.  Because James Murphy lived it, when he writes about it it’s not surprising it seems to reflect the darkest (or lightest) reaches of my head.

When Drunk Girls came out last year, it got torn apart so fast you would’ve thought it was attached to James Franco’s shoulder in 127 Hours.  I was, and remain highly amused by this.  Of course people focused on the part where DRUNK GIRLS! or DRUNK BOYS! was repeated, the same way everybody ignored the drug use and oral sex in the verses of Semi-Charmed Life so they could doot-doot-doot along to the chorus and the same way people looked at the Genie In A Bottle video and thought “What a cute young woman!” instead of listening to the words and thinking “I could probably anally fistfuck this chick by the fourth date” the way history has proven the larger truths.  Of course they did.  They’re people.  Civilians.  But for a dork like me?  A creature of the night?  A pulse-setter who takes the one of his own emotions every waking moment and most sleeping ones?  I got the undertones, the fulcrum.  As much as I liked the analogy of love being akin an astronaut who comes back but they’re never the same, about 100 seconds in Murphy wrote what’re IMSNHO his best lyrics in his entire discography, lyrics that may’ve made me cry if I’d encountered them earlier in life but now just seem to be an autobiography written by him about someone he’s never met distilled to 8 lines quoted here in entirety:

Just ’cause I’m shallow doesn’t mean that I’m heartless
Just ’cause I’m heartless doesn’t mean that I’m mean
Sometimes love gives us too many options
Just ’cause you’re hungry doesn’t mean that you’re lean
I’ve heard lies that could curdle your heartstrings
A couple of truths maybe burn out your eyes
But drunk boys, drunk boys leave their irons in the fireplace
‘Cause drunk girls give them too many tries

If I wasn’t such a pussy and was built like the Rock I would get this tattooed on my person as a constant reminder of who I am, where I’ve been, and where I’m trying to go to and what to avoid in the new realm.  Especially that last one.  James Murphy’s last album starts with the song Dance Yrself Clean, and leads into this.  The songs Somebody’s Calling Me & Home are also consecutive tracks, and if you think that’s a coincidence the cubicle is cutting off circulation to your brain.  A man singing I can change if it helps you fall in love just gets it, and pretty soon his band is going to knock out four sold-out shows at Madison Square Garden and apparently, that will be the end of them.  I really wish it wasn’t.  His insights have been the bridge I’ve been walking over for a better part of a decade, and now that my own career is starting to go up the stratosphere he’s willingly coming back down to Earth?  I suppose that’s just the way these things go, I guess.

But I owe Murphy more than I can state, or maybe will ever fully realize.

So I sit, and listen to the piano, continue to comb the lyrics and the sound like Temperance Brennan, and wonder who will step in and be my bridge into the next life or four.

And that, in part, should be a horribly detailed answer to the question “What in the world possibly goes on in my brain?”


by Blondeinred

With Blondeinred the naughty Aussie with her finger on…. The pulse of the adult novelty industry.

I’m the Blondeinred – KATG devotee (more about devoteeism in a later addition) and adult store worker here in Brisbane Australia. Each edition I will bring you a toy review and some cheeky ways that you can spice up your “self love” or raise the temperature of your partner play. My ethos behind toys is that every toy you invest your hard earned cash in should have at least three ways of using it, so as to get more bang for your buck, yank for your yen or pounding for your pound. So lets rock this out lets Lube-RHI-cated.

The We-vibe II- Not just for the ladies.

You would be forgiven for thinking that a toy, that’s rechargeable – wearable and shaped for female comfort would be just a toy for the ladies. Well here’s the surprise, the WE-Vibe II is a multi-speed vibe that boys love!

Too often the brothers are left out of the game when it comes to toys, but the we-vibe is truly the first vibe that is completely unisex in nature. So when she is out, pop into her naughty drawer, grab a awesome quality Digital Playground DVD and place the wevibe around the base of your penis. Lube is optional but it will make they whole experience more slippy, exciting and much less grippy.

Whilst giving yourself manual stimulation cup the we-vibe around your hand and slide away. Using the we-vibe as such leads to intense orgasms and is a fantastic way to get used to vibrations when you go for gold during partner play. Ladies using the we-vibe on your boy is just as easy. Avoid those “Girls don’t give hand-jobs arguments”, cup the we-vibe in your palm and start stroking that gearstick of LOOOOVEEE. After your session of sexy self-lovin, please ensure that you clean her we-vibe with a quality all-natural toy-cleaner and pop that little dynamo on recharge for later use.

Quick Tip:

Don’t prod her with plastic – pleasure her with a passionate press of your bunny ears.

A quick and favorite tip as to the best way to use a vibe on your partner – Don’t poke at her with that plastic like your tapping out morse code. Hold your vibe in your hand and extend your fingers out like bunny ears and then make gentle circles on her place-of-passion and bring her up to a slow intense orgasm. The skin against skin contact feels amazing and much more natural that Rubber Lovin.

This has been Blondeinred getting LUBE-RHI-CATED for the RhiPost, please forward your toy questions to