Hi. My name is Wendy Blackheart.

If you meet me at an event, that is the name I use. I answer to Wendy everywhere – even at school.

However, it is NOT my real name. It is a nom de plum, and a scene name.

I mean really, Blackheart? What am I, a pirate?

I would assume that since I don’t hide the fact that this is not my real name, and that I mention using pseudonyms, that people would have figured that most of the boys I write about here are written about under a false name. I either use their public scene name, if I have their permission, or I create a name.

Sebastian, for example, is not anywhere near his real name. In fact, before being Sebastian, he was (and I believe he still is) written about on other blogs under a totally different name. I changed it because a) I hated the other name people used for him and b) he looks like a Sebastian. Like, St. Sebastian. All tall and skinny and pretty…and he’d probably look hot tied to a post filled with arrows.

Anyway. Sebastian is not his real name. If you meet someone in the scene (which, btw, is rather large) who’s name is Sebastian, it is definitely not the same Sebastian I write about here.

I mention this, because in my wanderings, I met a boy named Sebastian. He is *not* the boy who’s ass I fist (though I must say, he is aesthetically very much my type. Very good looking, very pretty.) However, he is emphatically not my Sebastian. So if you meet him, don’t ask about his latest fisting. Because he’s not getting fisted, at least not by me.

And really, its silly to make assumptions abut people. :)

1) Scavenger Hunts are awesome

2) I think I’m slightly more psychic than I thought I was.

3) I really need to better listen to those little bursts of psychicness. (ie, next time I go ‘I should shave and wear nicer underwear…nah, I’m just going on a scavenger hunt, not getting naked’ I should shave and wear nicer undies.

4) RecursiveKink and Kai are fantastic Scavenger Hunt partners. Next time, we’ll totally win.

5) Spontaneous orgies are even better than planned orgies.

6) When told that there is a bee flying near me, I will scream and flail like a six year old girl.

7) My new massage skills can be used for evil. If by evil, you mean awesome. And if by awesome, you mean ‘can be used as part of an exchange for boysex to happen’. (Though I think boysex might have happened anyway. And the me touching boy would have happened anyway. But its nice to think it could work elsewhere)

8) Touching boys rocks. (Actually, I already knew that one.)

9) Marcall’s brand toilet paper is the worst toilet paper to use to make a mummy.

10) I got to see one of my friends naked who I never saw naked before. I didn’t learn anything, really. This is just awesome coz she’s purty. *coff* and so was the boy she brought. Who was also naked. As was I. I think I died and went to pretty skinny boy heaven.

11) Anything can be slashed. Even room mates. Especially room mates.

12) I have had more uncircumcised cock floating around me than I knew. Uncut cock FTW!

13) One of my friends can do a trick with his balls very similar to the one I do with my boobs. I am hoping to convince him to allow us to film this. With googly eyes.

14) Speaking of slash, I may have to read/see  Twilight, but ONLY so I can write three way slash with Edward, Robert Pattinson, and Mr. Gael, filled with glittering, angst, and sex.

15) I really ought to carry at least one of my dicks on my at all times. I either need a bigger messenger bag, or a backpack.

Holy Shit. Three days ago was my two year bloggiversary.

And school has been keeping me so busy I forgot to post about it! (Who are we kidding – anatomy keeps me too busy to get much of anything I start writing finished these days!)

I’ve been doing this for two years. I never thought I’d be doing this for two years. Shit, I was surprised I made it one year!

Since I forgot, and didn’t plan ahead for it, there won’t be a contest this year like there was last year. However, I will accept and post sexy noodz of my sexy readers, if yous guys want to send me naked photos. Or boobs. Mmm…boobs….

I am all kinds of fucked up.

Studying anatomy at school this past week has been turning me on.  Not because we’re palpating our fellow students. Not because I think of all the dirty things ’studying anatomy’ could be a euphemism for.

But because we’ve been studying the spinal column and thoracic cage. Yeah. The spine and the ribs. Because I find those features visible on a man extremely sexy. I like being able to see a man’s sacral crest, and to palpate the sternoclavicular notch…and don’t even get me started on hipbones. I even texted a sometimes lover during class (and we’re not even supposed to have our phones *on* in class, and I’ve been good about that!) because he was of the skinny, and I was of the ‘oh lord I want to Do Things to a skinny boy’ horny.

But really. I fee like its kind of fucked up that studying the skeletal system turns me on coz I dig a skinny guy. The running joke is that I’m looking for a guy that’s 6′8” and 130lbs.

I used to joke that I had a fetish for recreating the illustration to the poem ‘Jack Sprat’ in my bedroom.

My interest in pale skinny men is verging on obsession. I wish I understood it. Its weird. It verges on fucked up.

Like…for some reason, the other day, someone got me thinking about Silverchair, a band that was popular when I was in high school. I had the hots for the lead singer. I’m sure you can see why.

So I was checking out old videos, and saw what he looks like now. And I was like ‘Ew, he is so not cute any more. He looked better back then.’ Then I listened to another song and realized what i had just thought, which was ‘Ew, he is so not cute all normal and healthy. He looked better when he was anorexic‘ (like really. That’s what the song was about.)

So, I don’t know. This is kind of weird for me. Not liking the skinny boys, but thinking that something I like is fucked up.  I wish I knew where it came from. I’ve always liked ‘em like that. I mean, scrawny boys aren’t the *only* type of male I’m attracted to, but if given the choice between Mika or Peter Steele, based on physical appearance, I’d take Mika any day. (And I’ve seen Peter Steele’s penis, so that’s saying something!)

I’m not sure why this suddenly bothers me. The only thing I can think of is that while wrestling with my new body image, the way I think of the bodies of others has changed.

And suddenly, I’m interested in *why* I like this one thing. I don’t ponder why I love ass, or hurting people, or the idea of a boy sleeping at the foot of the bed, but I’ve been thinking about why I’m so enamoured of this one physical trait.

Most (most, not all) of my past partners have been both tall, skinny, or both. Tall skinny boys like me, and I like them back. I once joked that its because they looked like they needed to be fed, and I looked like I could feed them. Maybe its some sort of reversed or subsumed feederism thing. Maybe skinny boys just like fat chicks.

I remember the first chubby chaser I ever went out with. He was super excited when our mutual friend who introduced us told him that I worked at a plus sized clothing store…and that I shopped there too.

I already had my skinny boy love blossoming then, and he was…good lord. Tall, pale, skinny, all gothy angsty emo hair in his eyes lip ring wearing visible hip and collar bone having… guh. (and it didn’t hurt that he sent me a video of himself jerking off before we met. Good good.) God he was hot.

And *he* though *I* was hot. Like, he was all over me thought I was hot. Like, we made out in my car when I dropped him off and kicked my cds all over the front seat thought I was hot.

That had never really happened to me before. I always felt that guys who liked me dug me despite the way I looked, not because of the way I looked. That was a really intense feeling. I think that’s part of why I was *so* into this kid. (Things didn’t work out. Three dates and it fizzled. I think he was all in love with an ex. Emo kids. Pfft. Also, in retrospect, I was extremely full of crazy those days. Oh untreated bipolar disorder, how you vexed me!)

Anyway, maybe that crystallized, or at least heavily shored up, my idea that pale skinny boys were Very Good. That the next couple of awesome guys I dated and fucked were of the same variety (Shady goth club bouncer guy, the guy from myspace who was in an electronica band, Daniel) didn’t hurt.

And since then, I both attract and seek out those sort of boys. Maybe we have matching insecurities about our appearances – really really skinny boys are not considered conventionally attracted in our culture, nor are fat chicks.

At one point I thought it had something to do with them looking the way I wanted to look, (similar, perhaps, to how young girls like really bishie, androgynous type boys because they’re more relatable) but I really doubt that. My goal weight is 130lbs, but I doubt I’ll actually get there, because its seem entirely *too skinny* for me! 15olbs will probably be where I hover, eventually. And when I look at girls, the quickest way to turn me off is for them to be too skinny. I like women with curves and tits and asses and stuff.

The women I like tend to look like me, and the men are the complete opposite (I generally go for really scrawny type men, or alpha male types. Like, Mika or Wolverine. Write me a song OR slaughter me a deer.(unless you write some sort of ballad/epic poem about slaughtering the deer. That might be hot.))

Maybe its a study in opposites. Anton LaVey, in his book for female satanists, the Satanic Witch (yes, I read LaVey. He’s entertaining, and if you wade through enough bullshit, has a few good points) goes on about opposites and such. Conventional wisdom says opposites attract. The polar opposite of me would be a scrawny Jack Skellington type of guy. (Who, by the way, I have no interest in. I didn’t really care for ‘A Nightmare Before Christmas’ or any of the  gothhype around it.)

Ah well, its not like I actually *can* figure this all out. Who knows why we like what we like? I don’t even know why it suddenly matters.

I *do* want to go back to not thinking my interest in ridiculously skinny men is NOT all sorts of fucked up. I don’t like thinking things that I like are fucked up. Until recently, I was about 95% cool with everything. Now I’m all confused and such.

Examples of Teh Skinneh I keep talking about.

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Pleasurists is your round-up of the adult product reviews that came out in the last seven days from bloggers all around the sex blogosphere. Did you miss Pleasurists #27? Read it all here. Do you have a review for Pleasurists #29? Submit it here before Sunday May 18th at 11:59pm PDT. Please re-post this list on your own blog if listed.

Editor’s Note: Apologies this edition came out later than expected/desired! I was out of town in the beginning of the week with a dead laptop and didn’t have a chance to get to it until later than I liked. This round-up only has reviews submitted by May 10th at 11:59pm PDT in it, as if it was posted on Monday.

Want to win some free swag? All you’ve got to do is enter.

• Give Me Fever Contest Deadline: May 30th at 11:59pm Pacific Time.
• Champagne Giveaway: Women Seeking Women #50 Deadline: May 31st
• Do You Have an Erotic Adventure to Share? Deadline: May 31st, 2009.
• Ginger Leigh’s Fabulous Shopping Spree! Deadline: Friday, June 5, 2009

Madame Editrix
Scarlet Lotus St.Syr

On to the reviews…

Editor’s Pick

• Semenex by Average Joe

So what did it actually taste like exactly? Rancid eggnog mixed with broccoli water, pineapples, and garnished with a little nutmeg and a final hint (just a hint) of celery. It smells great. It smells like gingerbread cookies coated in cinnamon, it’s even a nice light brown color but do not be fooled! Once you actually mix this in water it turns green and has a taste not many people could stomach.

Editor’s Note: I think I love well-written humorous negative reviews, and this is definitely one of those. I couldn’t help laughing out loud at a few points, and while it doesn’t make me want to buy the product for any male I know it makes me want to read more of Average Joe’s reviews. Don’t you agree?

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