Scout

Okay, there has got to be a reason that no one told me how dyke-tastic "The L Word" is. What were they trying to save me from? What delicious girl-kissing ropes of spit was I not supposed to see? Why wouldn't every woman I know say, "Elsa, no shittin', you have to watch 'The L Word'?"

I watched "The L Word" today.

You may have gotten that.

This show is so savory. I was zoomed back to the summer I first saw "Go Fish" and "The Incredibly True Adventure of Two Girls In Love" and that episode of Star Trek:Deep Space 9 ("Rejoined") where Dax and Lenara made me squirm. Hell, I used to have a videotape with all three of those movies on it (plus "Reality Bites", which doesn't count as dyke-o-licious unless you count Janeane Garofalo's haircut, which was so gay it had its own drag review, for goodness' sake). I was watching these women, these smooth, slippery women, watching them talking and making love and so obviously caring, and I realized I wanted to smell them.

(Note to newcomers - I have a really sensitive nose. Smells are important, annoying, soothing and arousing to me. And no, I'm not talking about these women in some cheap way, like I watched them screwing and wanted THAT smell, but I wanted to smell the spicy and mellow things about them: the leather bracelet, the sweaty sheen under an ear, the clean laundry smell of the sheets, that just-fucked glow that radiates like Love's Baby Soft off the bodies of 1979.)

And oh, the dyke drama. Who does who. How many women are there between one girl and another. Predictable, but still funny. If we were to do affinity diagrams between any of us, I think we'd crap ourselves to see how terrifyingly close our bodily fluids have been to each other's ('some of you out there, shut your yaps', she said, lovingly). Hell, on Vashon, you can pretty much just assume that your DNA is stuck to everyone else's. Through one person I know, I am linked to . . . oh, I can't even go there. I started to write it and realized that it is both tragic and nobody's business.

Well, I am off to watch episode two of the first season of "The L Word" and try to keep my hands off myself - for reasons of my own.




	s c o u t better living through better living Looking for SCOUT's other blog? The one with all the pictures and stuff? CLICK HERE Home Admin Password Remember Me 613545 Curiosities served Share on Facebook				2006-04-01 5:51 PM The L Word Previous Entry :: Next Entry Read/Post Comments (2) Okay, there has got to be a reason that no one told me how dyke-tastic "The L Word" is. What were they trying to save me from? What delicious girl-kissing ropes of spit was I not supposed to see? Why wouldn't every woman I know say, "Elsa, no shittin', you have to watch 'The L Word'?" I watched "The L Word" today. You may have gotten that. This show is so savory. I was zoomed back to the summer I first saw "Go Fish" and "The Incredibly True Adventure of Two Girls In Love" and that episode of Star Trek:Deep Space 9 ("Rejoined") where Dax and Lenara made me squirm. Hell, I used to have a videotape with all three of those movies on it (plus "Reality Bites", which doesn't count as dyke-o-licious unless you count Janeane Garofalo's haircut, which was so gay it had its own drag review, for goodness' sake). I was watching these women, these smooth, slippery women, watching them talking and making love and so obviously caring, and I realized I wanted to smell them. (Note to newcomers - I have a really sensitive nose. Smells are important, annoying, soothing and arousing to me. And no, I'm not talking about these women in some cheap way, like I watched them screwing and wanted THAT smell, but I wanted to smell the spicy and mellow things about them: the leather bracelet, the sweaty sheen under an ear, the clean laundry smell of the sheets, that just-fucked glow that radiates like Love's Baby Soft off the bodies of 1979.) And oh, the dyke drama. Who does who. How many women are there between one girl and another. Predictable, but still funny. If we were to do affinity diagrams between any of us, I think we'd crap ourselves to see how terrifyingly close our bodily fluids have been to each other's ('some of you out there, shut your yaps', she said, lovingly). Hell, on Vashon, you can pretty much just assume that your DNA is stuck to everyone else's. Through one person I know, I am linked to . . . oh, I can't even go there. I started to write it and realized that it is both tragic and nobody's business. Well, I am off to watch episode two of the first season of "The L Word" and try to keep my hands off myself - for reasons of my own. Read/Post Comments (2) Previous Entry :: Next Entry Back to Top