Another Butch, Another Day … Since 2004

Hy, Hys, Hym = Female Masculine Lesbian Butch pronouns

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Farewell to Robin Williams…

Chris:

A touching farewell from Dante Basco (Rufio in ‘Hook’)

Originally posted on Dante Basco: My take on life...:

Today Robin Williams past away and it’s been so surreal, it felt like it came out of nowhere… A text message from a friend made me aware of the news and frantically I jumped online to see if it was true. Sadly, I found out it was and even more sad, I read of the circumstances. I couldn’t keep reading the stories online for it’s too sad.

At times like this, I get very reflective and being a writer, I guess it’s best to write and what better place but my blog. It’s surreal because I haven’t seen Robin for many years yet in he’s so connected to me due to his close involvement in the biggest role of my career in “Hook” where he played Peter Pan and I played the punk kid who took over as leader of the Lost Boys when he left Neverland… Rufio.

Although working…

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Martians and Pirates and Soldiers, Oh My !!!

How can one pay tribute to someone with such a vast repetroire of accomplishments?
I cannot answer that question in its entirity though I am compelled to try.
WhatDreamsMayCome
The first I knew of Robin Williams was as a comedic Martian in the TV series Mork and Mindy (1978-1982).
Through the mistakes of the character and his transmissions back to Ork (Mork calling Orson, come in Orson) M&M
at the end of each show, we may have become imprinted and in some small way, our lives changed.
Through the laughter, I know mine did, so much so that I now have every Mork and Mindy episode.
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“Wingardium Leviosa!!” or words to that effect.

There are not many authors around that I can complemint by saying I have read all their books. J.K. Rowling however is one of those on the list and she has taken yet another step on the ladder of respect in my opinion. Perhaps other authors have done the same thing and it has either never come to light or I never read about it, I cannot say for sure which is true.

J.K. Rowling began her tremendous rise to success with her series of books about Harry Potter. They have pride of place on my bookcase and the DVDs are part of my collection too. The books, I feel I can safely say, became a dream world for many readers … a means of escape from the day-to-day drama, stress and sadness that we all meet at one time or another. The antics of the wizarding trio composed of bespectacled Harry, the red-headed Ron Weasley and the sensitive yet obnoxious (at times) brainiac Hermione Granger keep you turning pages, not wanting to put the books down. The bullying of Draco Malfoy and his 2 sheepish cohorts, add a sad realism to a fictional fantasy world. The teachers, whom I am sure we all wish “our” teachers had been like, show care even through grumbling and snapping as in the way of Professor Severus Snape.
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Ponderings of the sexual and serious nature

On the morning of July 25th 2014, I was making my way from Victoria coach station to Victoria tube station. It was in the midst of the morning rush hour and all around me people were heading to work, to the shops, to appointments, or perhaps they were meeting a friend for breakfast … who knows, this is London after all and strange things have been know to occur here.

It isn’t all that far from the like named coach, train and underground stations but by the time I have fought my way through barging crowds filling the pavements, across roads filled with black London taxi cabs (hackney carriages), a tourist-filled train station and into a desolate underground station I have picked up the daily issue of Metro, a free newspaper to read later.

I do not travel by underground much. The extent of my experience stems from the rare trips ‘into’ London and the trips made in the past to Prague. I can honestly say I am not all that comfortable travelling via the ‘tube’ but with underground trains running every 2 minutes to Kings Cross/St Pancras, versus a very expensive 30 minute or longer taxi ride, I know which side of the bread is buttered. So with one way ticket in hand, I make my way down the long escalator to platform level and as I round the corner, a train arrives. I step on board and glance up to find out how many stops until I can get out of the claustrophobic environment. Starting point is Victoria, check … then Green Park, Oxford Circus, Warren Street, Euston and finally, Kings Cross/St Pancras … I am stood by the door so as the doors glide open, I step out and follow the crowd into the main passageway. Okay … which way to walk for KC/SP? Ah, there is the sign and off I go … riding up the long escalator to ground level.

I could go on and on about my travels, but that is not the purpose of this piece, so I will cease my ramblings on that topic and advance to the topic at hand.

On page 9 of aforementioned Metro, is an article that caused me to burst out laughing. Well, the title of it did at any rate … but upon reading the very brief article which unlike the online one the link takes you to, included no pictures … I was stunned.

The hard copy of the article merely stated:

Removed: Sex toy after 10yrs

Surgeons have removed a sex toy that was left inside a woman’s body for ten years.

The 38-year-old visited Aberdeen Royal Infirmary in a potentially life-threatening condition after contracting sepsis. Doctors spotted the 12cm (5in) sex toy in her vagina after an X-ray and she was diagnosed with vesicovaginal fistula – a condition allowing urine to flow into the vagina. It may be the first case of its kind, the Journal of Sexual Medicine reports.

The online version of the article is more informative.

(The moral of this strange but true tale is: Always account for your sex toys.)

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9 Word Poetry Challenge

mountbattensmall

Adorn, Worn, Warn, Born, Torn, Forlorn, Mourn, Horn, Licorice

As I sit on the beach,
a forlorn moon rises
leaving a trail
on the midnight blue sea.

I mourn your absence.
That you are not here
at this place
I shared with you, now.

At the sound of footsteps
crunching on the pebbles
worn smooth by sand and waves,
I peer over tired shoulders.

A low horn of the lighthouse
serenades the ships and I
with its one note melody.
Sad and lonely, like me.

I’m torn between
staying here and
getting behind the wheel,
driving till the sun rises.

The lighthouse blares
its warning again
and with its solitary eye,
takes in its surroundings.

Unbeknownst to me,
the hours pass.
Pink then red hues
adorn the horizon.

And out of a licorice night,
another day is born.

~ 28 June 2014

Readers note: I took the liberty of using warning in place of warn

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9 Word Poetry Challenge

242713

Soul, Envelopes, Depth, Calling, Trembling, Moon, Rising, Touch, Tenderness

Oh,
golden moon
rising on wings unseen,
to soar
above the horizon.
Amid the stars
that dance,
within the depth
and silence of space.

You hover,
enveloped in clouds
that in their trembling,
move across the sky.
While I,
bathed in your hazed light
am calling out
from the depths
of my soul.

The tenderness
of the grass
that cradles me
mimics the touch
of caressing fingers
on my skin.
And sighs of contentment
are the only break
in the silence
borne of solitude.

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Dedicated to PL Travers and “the Nanny”

A 9 word poetry challenge

Birds wander
around the Cathedral Square
as a child
book held tightly
in one hand
her Nanny’s hand
gripped
as if for dear life
in the other.
The nightmarish face
of a gargoyle
reflecting intentional
horror
or perhaps
humour
as on the ground
mere mortals
weep
for the sacrifice
or the courage
of those lost.
There can be "Feed The Birds"
no debate,
no fraud.
The book written
to teach
a lesson
collected
by a man who
made a promise
to his child.
Had it not been
for a song,
my childhood
would have been
stained.
But now,
when I cross
Cathedral Square
I find myself
humming
the melancholy
of the tune
again.

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