Sooo... long time no see. to be honest, I wasn't sure if I was going to post on here again. But, something on the Internets happened and I just had to post something.

It probably wasn't a big deal where you are, but it was a big deal in Canada. Anytime, celebrities and hockey are seen together it gets national coverage.

Basically, Rhianna sent out an instagram of her in a hockey sweater of the Ottawa Senators and... well, not a whole lot less. No big deal, right. Whelp, when it comes to hockey, us Canadians are a little bit nuts.

If you blinked, you missed it; Suddenly the hashtag #Rhiannaing is blowing up in Canada and people are jumping on Rhianna's latest fashion craze.

And after seeing all the copycat pics floating on twitter, inspiration hit me. I have a hockey sweater (every Canadian does, eh!), I don't have to wear pants, and I... er, I can doll myself up. I could totally take a #Rhiannaing photo. And, I think in a way, I kinda had to, right?  Who else was going to put a forced fem spin on this? So, I found the two Rhianna photos and I did my best to imitate them.

First up, is the original instragram photo that Rhianna uploaded that started it all:

I don't have a white piano waiting for a photo op in my place, but I did my best to keep the spirit of her pose:
#Rhiannaing 1

If you thought Rhianna took the pic before completing her ensemble for the night, think again. She was pictured out on the town sans anything south of the 49th, if you know what I mean:

Now, walking while concentrating on the ground is something I can do:
#Rhiannaing 2

So? What do you think? Did I pick the right circumstance to make a return? Did I do #Rhiannaing proud?

Across the (Miss) Universe

Hi folks,

Long time, no see. Sorry about that. I know this blog isn't exactly your first choice for commentary on greater social and political topics, but this post might have to be the exception that proves the rule.

For those of you who couldn't tell from the title, I'll be writing about the Miss Universe headlines coming out from my home country of Canada; our Miss Universe representative, Jenna Talackova, was disqualified by the Miss Universe organization. They state, "she did not meet the requirements to compete despite having stated otherwise on her entry form."

The specifics of which requirements Miss Talackova did not meet are undisclosed. Based on her photo, it's hard to figure out which requirement she doesn't fulfill:

Maybe the fact that Miss Talackova wasn't born female is the failed requirement?

I'm not going to argue about the rules set forth by the Miss Universe organization. The pageant is not a democracy. It's a private business enterprise and they can set whatever criteria they assume will maximize their profit and brand equity. There are lots of aspects about beauty pageants that come into direct conflict with our rapidly maturing society and this is just one of a vast multitude.

What I want to write about is the letdown I felt from my own country.

When I first saw the headlines, I was extremely impressed that whatever body decides on Canada's representative not only allowed a transsexual to compete, but deemed her our best shot at winning the Miss Universe title. I had thought that my country, one that I'm proud to say has a strong belief in diversity, had turned the corner in understanding and truly accepting the trans community.

A large part of this belief had stemmed from an article I had read last summer. A Calgary, Aberta radio station put on quite a sexist contest to award someone a $10,000 breast augmentation in 2011. The listeners of the station turned the contest on its head when three-quarters of the votes went to a transgendered woman named Avery. In 2009, that same province, in an attempt to stem the rising cost of health care, delisted SRS as being covered. I had thought that despite that 2009 decision, the conversations and understanding that grew from it, led directly to Avery's win, and perhaps in some way contributed to Miss Talackova's win as well.

It was only when I later learned that Miss Talackova had lied on her application to the pageant that reality started to set in. A quick Google search of "Jenna Talackova" will provide you with images of a very beautiful woman. But, this woman felt the only way she would be able to reach her goals, or even be granted the ability to compete, was by lying about who she really is. She was not someone who was always ashamed of her past; she competed in the 2009 Miss International Queen pageant.

The majority of the news-breaking articles here in Canada made it seem as if the Canadian committee had approved her, yet it was the overseers of the pageant in America that had disqualified Miss Talackova. A sentiment that plays right into most Canadian minds; the accepting and tolerant Canadians yet again turned away by the Americans and their behind-the-times social politics. Yet, this was not the case. It was, in fact, the organizers on the Canadian side who dug more deeply into Miss Talackova application after awarding her the win.

But, in my mind at least, the news media (thankfully) was against this course of action. They were pointing out the injustice of this act. They were rallying behind Miss Talackova and the transgender community... right? I saw that a left-leaning newspaper had posted a link to a video of news personalities discussing the issue. Surely, this would be the tip of the sword towards the equality and social understanding the transgender community in Canada was seeking... right?

That was when my jaw, and my heart hit the floor. The male personality trying to show his elevated sense of equality, but that quickly erodes with every detail about transgenderism discussed. The end result is he visibly becomes more and more uncomfortable with the topic. The female personalities initially demonstrate a contempt for the harsh judgmental nature of pageants. Yet, their call for rule changes dissolves completely at the prospect of having to actually compete with a man and instead, the majority of the time is spent expounding on the ways in which it's unfair to let men compete against women. In. A. Beauty. Pageant. Sadly, I have a feeling that if the majority of Canadian news personalities were put on the spot to provide their opinions, the conversations would turn out much the same.

I have total faith that a very smart and dedicated journalist will study, research and provide a truly fair and representative story of the broader transgender issues in this country that Miss Talackova's tale is but a symptom of. But that story has yet to be told. And it won't be for at least another couple weeks I'm sure. By then, it'll be too late. The Canadian conscience will have forgotten. There will be another candidate chosen and announced. She'll look just as stunning in an evening gown and swimwear. She'll have been born a woman. Most will think that on an International stage, this was the best resolution for Canadians; safe and uncontroversial. Sorry for all the trouble, eh.

It shouldn't matter all that much (and we'll get back to our regularly scheduled programming soon, I promise). I mean, nothing's really any different than before Miss Talackova competed. It's not like they added discriminatory rules, they just enforced rules already in place. But, it feels so much worse. Because for the briefest of moments, my country said this dream could become a reality:

... and then they took it away.

No Comment *Updated*

 I fought so hard with my Big Sister to not make me post this.

I know what this looks like. I really don't want to hear about it. Please, I would just like to move past this.

Just this once, let's just not say anything and move on.


*UPDATE:  What Chrissy failed to mention was that this is a still from a video.  She doesn't want to post it... for some reason she finds it embarrassing... but if she's 'agreed' to post it if this post gets enough attention.  She's never had more than 22 comments and she doesn't think she's that popular.  What do you think?  Want to see it?  Here's what it takes... so if you've been lurking, now is the time to step forward.


  • 25 Comments from different people
  • Anonymous comments don't count
  • It has to be 25 different people commenting
  • The comments have to be positive and encouraging

Wishy Washy

Well... "thanks" so much for all your "helpful" comments requested by my Big Sister. She says I have to post ten of them as my wishlist. If she's telling me to do it, and it's composed by your comments... how is it mine?? I went ahead and assumed that comments with multiple parts should be broken out into different wishes. At least give me that. Not that it really helps... Anyways, here's my "list"
  1. I wish that my Big Sis would let me be a he again.
  2.  I wish Santa would give me a new wardrobe.
  3. I wish to be a famous rock or pop star, having lots of young men drooling after me.
  4. I wish I could ask Santa for a spanking.
  5. I wish Santa would give me more sexy slutty female cloths to dress up in to better practice the oral and anal arts.
  6.  I wish for bigger boobs so I can give tit jobs.
  7. I wish for more training in the oral and anal arts to better pleasure a male suitor.
  8. I wish for a handsome male suitor.
  9. I wish I could show you pictures of the men I want and explain why I want them so badly.
  10. I wish that I could finally admit that I like men.

Twas the Night Before Chrissy - Part Four

Chrissy needs ten Christmas wishes and she has to choose from suggestions in the comments, so let's brainstorm some fun ones for her!

Twas the Night Before Chrissy - Part Three

Twas the Night Before Chrissy - Part Two

Colline earned this verse for the group with her comment on verse one! Want to make Chrissy take another photo? Show your appreciation! Five is the goal...

Twas the Night before Chrissy... Part One

Cheap Trick or Treat

Hey all,

First off, I know there's been some crazy things happening lately, so hopefully wherever you're reading this from you and yours are safe and sound.

So I haven't been on here much lately. I hope you were all happy and excited for me cause that meant that my Big Sister wasn't making me doing horribly feminine things... Of course, October 31st is a bit of a different animal. I think she disappears around this time on purpose. As Halloween creeps closer and closer without hearing from her, my stomach starts to twist. I hold out hope that I won't have to dress up or at least I could go and get a male costume... but, what if she contacts me at the last minute? How am I going to get a costume on short notice? How do I pull it all off? What if she doesn't contact me? Does that mean I don't have to dress up for Halloween? Ever again? I mean if she doesn't want me to dress up for Halloween, maybe she's finally grown bored of me... but, the pit in my stomach grows wider. She's going to expect me in something. Maybe this is a test? What's worse; dressing like a girl when I didn't have to, or feeling the wrath of my Big Sister for not dressing up when she expects me to?

I wasn't going to do it. I was going to make a stand. Do you remember last year? I got punished for dressing up even when she didn't say anything?!!? I shook a little at the evening got later and later. With a whimper, I gave up... I slinked into my closet and started to pull through my feminine things to put together a costume.

But, not all was lost. If I was going to dress up, then I was going to pick up costume of MY choosing. It was going to be an image of what kind of girl I would be if I HAD to be a girl. This was not going to be girl-girl. This was not going to be pink. Not cutesy. No dresses. I was going to be cool. Powerful. Bad-ass. Ok, ok, the idea for my costume had come to me a while ago. A while ago. It wasn't for Halloween specifically, but I kept it in the back of my mind in case my Big Sis ever asked for my opinion. Plus, when I had to browse for girl stuff, my tastes seemed to skew this way. What kind of girls today are cool,  powerful, and bad-ass?? Rock chicks of course!

Of course a lot of costumes could be for a rock chick, and I wasn't about to buy a meat dress, or a bubble dress, or some crazy galactic orbit dress. Of in order to pull it off, I thought I'd try and set the scene with a collection of poses:

Found by the paparazzi 1
Is it just me or does it seem that more often than not, the Paparazzi tend to sneak up on unsuspecting celebrities from behind? But, they don't just sneak up on them, they also seem to take a pic from the back too. It's like back-up proof in case someone the celeb flees. It's like there version of the spotting Bigfoot picture. Figured I need one of these to make me seem rock star-ish.

Found by the paparazzi 2
Of course being a rock star, I don't want to be caught by the Paparazzi. So naturally, my hand has all but thrown out all evidence that this is a photo of me. But why don't I want to be photographed at wherever I am?? I mean, I probably just came out of an orphanage or I just handed over a large novelty cheque to a charity I support... right?

Found by the paparazzi 3
Yeah, I took an extra one. I'm a huge rock star so I have extra Paparazzi following me. Plus, I could get into the idea of obscuring my face in photos. Should be a staple in all future poses my Big Sis make me take.

Celeb call 1
And of course, even when I'm in one place, I'm really somewhere else. The important life of a rock-star celebrity. And naturally, because I'm being photographed I need to pretend to look bored. After all a rock star obviously much more important than whoever is on the other end of the line.

Celeb call 2
Unless of course the person on the other end is an underling. Than the rock star must be giving directions to this person to get things done for them in their important lives. Yup, clearly chatting with one of the many Personal Assistants to keep the rock star live running on all cylinders.

At the show 1
This is me at the show rockin' it out for all my adoring fans! Some of them would consider me a hero. A hero who plays guitar. I bet they'll even make a video game about this rock star some day!

At the show 2
Bad-ass, mama jamma! I taught Slash this pose.

Band promo pic
All rock stars have that pose that while is obviously been rehearsed and burned into their muscle memory, is supposed to tell everyone this is how they are just naturally cool and just about the scene. Plus, it always makes for a good album promo photo. Or something.

So that was me on Halloween. Cool, right? I mean, it's like I've built a whole persona or whatever. You so totally like this as opposed to the ridiculous stuff my Big Sister had me doing, yeah? I mean, you're totally hooked on this alternate persona. I can tell. I think you should comment and let my Big Sis know you're more interested in seeing more about this new persona and any of the silly stuff she was coming up with. Plus, I haven't thought of a name yet for this new bad-ass girl side. Comment and give suggestions for a name. I was going to go with Moon Unit Zappa, but that didn't seem original enough.

Slow and Steady

Hi folks,

I hope the summer is treating you well! It's been an up and down summer for me. For the most part my Big Sister has left me alone (yay!). But, when she does bug me it's... been... different. She's been more demanding. It's been less sisterly and I've become more like a toy. Something to be toyed with at her will without a voice or opinion of my own. I don't know if she just has these needs to assert absolute dominance over someone and that's when she seeks me out. Or (hopefully) this is the early stages of her getting tired of me and she'll soon leave me alone permanently.

Anyways, her humiliating task for me this time was to put on my most emasculating heels, put myself in a very specific pose and then have to weave a "fantasy" involving that pose for you all on this blog. Now, as you all know by now, she's not very subtle and she was trying to make it obvious what kind of fantasy she was looking for.

Too bad for her I'm still just as smart as ever. Just because she doesn't like to treat me like an intellectual doesn't mean I still can't thwart her. So, without prolonging the (minimized) damage, here's my completed task:

Feet Up Aug 2011

So, it's quite simple really. I'm a tortoise. I'm a tortoise who was wearing pink heels... 'cause I'm heading out to the bar... called the Hard Shell cafe. Anyways, as I'm walking to the bar, my panties get snagged on a rock and fall down my tortoise legs. Feeling the unusual draft, I look back to see my panties have slipped down one leg. Because I'm looking backwards, I don't see I'm walking towards a dip in the ground, and I slip and tip over onto my back. And I'm stuck on my back struggling to right myself.

She's on her back. Her breath is heaving and ragged, her chest rising and falling to the rhythm of her desire. As the panties slide down her leg, she dangles them off her foot. Her smooth legs lift, spreading automatically. She's waiting there. Waiting for you.

Aaaaaaand scene. There we go. Quite the fantasy if you ask me. I think you can chalk one up for Chrissy over Big Sister on this one. Peace out.
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