[Kätzchen]

Minutes, hours, days, seemingly weeks passed by. Faint memories of the cascading water falls; the plunging, treacherous depths of water; the gurgling dissonance as it ascended to the surface of the river; having tumbled together over the edge and even now, a certain knowing etched into memory concerning a particular “head shot.”

Depending on how one interprets an etymological approach to linguistics, the term “head shot” might be known as none other than a subliminal boxing move. However, far off in the distance (known as Venus on Fire) the term “head shot” is known to be an artistic language expression known as a “let me correct your malformed intelligence to understand that you cannot construe innocent pleasures to mean something other than what was intended” type of definition.

Now for Femmes, whose universe resides in the construct of Venus on Fire, this entails a certain level of sacred ire: Femmes who delight in being independent and have ways of addressing certain inequities, with our creative use of known verbiage, are not always accustomed to being assaulted with passive-aggressive notions: we do as we do, with the idea being that we solve life’s problems in fruitful ways – even if this means banging out chronically rusted roller balls on the bottoms of chairs or swearing in our polite little female ways those particular cuss words that are aimed directly at the object of our resistance; which in this case, turned out to be an extremely zealous, opportunistic, feline disease which infested a particular hegemonically controlled wench, known as another worker, who felt disempowered by those who completely, and might I add, righteously adored another member from the planet, Venus on Fire!

Now, of course, unless you are a member from the planet Mars Torn Asunder,Femmes from the universe Venus on Firecompletely understand this line of logic; which is underpinned by the newest (scientifically, of course) ideological approach called “Melt your Panty’s and Boxer’s off” Feminism!Of course, the main idea behind this brand new approach is to meld all the game rules to Pythagorean Theory and the letter “e ” so that all results are stilted and complexly convoluted to mean nothing more that the quotient of “the number element of the result of dividing one number by another;” which neatly adds up to the significant numerical value of “Zero Sum.” (Please bear in mind that when creating an egalitarian society, one must be committed to deconstructing all results previously known to Venus on Fire and Mars Torn Asunder by promptly administering the brand new construct of “Melt your Panty’s and Boxer’s off” Feminism.)


You, the reader, might be asking yourself, right now, “why on earth is this so important?”



It’s because . . .

A member of Venus on Fire (a Femme)dared to confide exuberantly all her life woes to another member from Mars Torn Asunder (a TG Butch) – which conveniently landed both of them in bubbling, effervescent waters (otherwise known as a punishing, private hell). To wit, they both lost their ability to effectively communicate that: a) Femme from Venus on Fire misses the fuck out of a TG Butch member from Mars Torn Asunder; b) rules to the new ideological approach called “Melt your Panty’s and Boxer’s off” Feminism are operational and fully functioning; and c) that all past sins have been drop-kicked appropriately to another galaxy without breaking any known rules of piracy or other deviant forms of offensive transgressions.

In short:

I stand here completely naked – without my Baby Blue, Baby doll, sexy nightie showing off my abundant nipples needing expertly applied Doctoral supplicant theory – to seek humble forgiveness of said transgressions related to exerting a “head shot” which was garbled and warped by speeds exceeding known velocities in French, German, Spanish or English (to include all other not known forms of communication, as well); and that I plead the Venus on Firecode of Femme Conduct and squeal… “UNKLE” … hopefully, in an understandable version of the hardly known language to me called Mars Torn Asunder!

Additionally:

Various forms of erotica may (or may not) play melodically from this side of paradise as it seems that the Great Pumpkin of my Skies has been conveniently (or inconveniently) illuminating from some far off place (probably past Jupiter) which, without my Venus on Fire paraphernalia (to include binoculars, blue sparkles, sexy diversionary tactics manual, etc) has been hijacked by certain mafia monkeys (cousins, no doubt, to KING LOUIE) and I cannot see worth a hoot to find them! Please release me from this heinous bondage and commence to guide and direct me in what ever fashion you have reserved for a beautiful Kitty Queen (Me) as I am jonesing for more than just tête-à-têtes via our normal manner of communication . . .



Dearest Diary,

Erotically (and so much more than that)

Yours,
*mieeez mieeez*