Wednesday, November 30, 2005

In defense of his Caliphus sketch, Ken offers the following explanation: Flights of fancy* that expand on the unknown origins of ancient phenomena have been traditional fictional devices as long as there have been storytellers.

Nice try, Ken -- but I would bet it was inspired by the HBO Real Sex special that aired last night. There was a lot of eye rolling and giggly talk from Kim Cattrell about erotic sculpture in general -- and penises, testicles, labias, clitorises and G-Spots in particular. All of this to illustrate, albeit smarmily, that throughout recorded history men and women everywhere have been doing the nasty and celebrating it in drawings, paintings and sculpture. Duh.

Aphrodite in all her guises was discussed and displayed again and again as the embodiment of female sexuality. Impossibly beautiful, serenely detached, forever unattainable, she is a goddess even an old misogynist like Ken can't resist. He worships dead celebrity goddesses - his favorite is Marilyn Monroe. There is no room in Ken's pantheon for flesh and blood love objects. Real woman need not apply.

*Flights of fancy? He's the King of Spin. I should know.

Please, Ken, don’t post another sketch (your word) like Caliphus on Delicious Demon under your own name. It is a clumsy blend of fact and fiction. It was Venus de Milo (130-120BC), not your toppled goddess, who was found at Milo in 1820 and transported to the Louvre. Besides being approximately four thousand years younger, she’s a hell of a lot smaller than your Aphrodite. Perhaps you’ve been staring too long at the Statue of Liberty? Can she be seen from Bay Ridge?

But I liked the denouement - when the old sculptor, surrounded by his adoring apprentices, gets crushed by a gigantic naked female. OK, she’s a marble statue -- but we all know what that’s about, honey. You can't get me off your mind. A simple castration metaphor won't do? I end up annihilating you, as always. What a drama queen you are .......

Tuesday, November 29, 2005


I want to give you

a slice with everything .... and

something on the side.

Monday, November 28, 2005

Ken? Honey? About that Mistress Dark Kitty thing? Don't get your panties all in a twist. No need to be so defensive. There's nothing wrong with liking boys in dresses. And if you're the one in the dress, that's ok, too. It's all good. But Dark Kitty is quite upfront about being a transsexual dominatrix who provides painful and humiliating sexual services for a fee. She's definitely not a boy in a dress. So I'm wondering why did you refer to her on Delicious Demon as a friend who happens to be "a boy in a dress"? Just asking.

Here's part of her profile with her name, website and payment details omitted:

Who I'd like to meet:

People who are intriguing, smart, sassy, sexy, cool, loving, caring, adventurous, intelligent, open-minded, and all around just good people.

For those of you who would like to take action in my services as a trans-female dominatrix/mistress then feel free to read further:

Let this Dark Kitty punish you the way you deserve...

Any sub/slave can contact me for service of your pleasure. Will not descriminate based on interests or person. Can make your pleasure as gentle or as hard-core as you prefer. While expereinced Subs are fun, I am always up for breaking in a novice.

I can provide a variety of service from spanking and flogging, foot worship, objectification, force feminization, orgasm denial, ownership tattoos and branding, child play, and female supremacy.

Services available M-F 12pm-3am, Sat & Sun all hours. Donation of $150/hr prior to services rendered. New client special: 2 hours- $230 If interested either email me here or at my email:

(Deeplip, who still cares enough to punish you for free.)
A friend of Ken, "she who watches", posted on Delicious Demon "to the best of my knowledge--nothing much has anything to do with Nebraska". She ought to know. As a weather balloon based in the Pacific Northwest, she flies over it constantly. Gigantic, epicene, filled with fetid hot air, she lands on the East Coast - whoosh! - and hides Ken under her voluminous metaphorical skirts. He cowers there, hoping deeplip doesn't show up, stick a pin in "she who watches" and open up a can of whup-ass. It's a shame the man puts his head between a woman's legs so often with so little pleasure involved. Oh, wait! Someone always benefits. Maybe Ken secretly wants a Mom Dom (my term). What does "she who watches" get out of it? She flies three thousand miles to North Jersey just to cock-block deeplip? Go figure.

Saturday, November 26, 2005


Ken definitely has a thing for "chicks with dicks". Maybe that's why he tells people I have something extra goin' on down there. I'm flattered, but I've got only the standard issue female naughty bits. I wish I did have a penis. I'd have it surgically removed and packed in dry ice. Apparently, Ken's own equipment is either defective or missing. At least, that's what he says. Trust me, if I were "packing", Mr. Happy would soon be on a medical helicopter on its way to Bay Ridge.

Friday, November 25, 2005


When a man tells you
his pee-pee is small, he has
a bigger problem.

Thursday, November 24, 2005


Look out your window.
Do you see me standing on
the sidewalk, old man?
Check your phone messages, Ken.
None of the voices is mine.

Wednesday, November 23, 2005


When inmates bolt the

door to the asylum they

always lose the key.


Monday, November 21, 2005


I enjoyed your bittersweet romance, Second Person Singular - but then I didn't have to fact check it, Ken. I wouldn’t know where to begin. It's basically a thinly veiled attempt at damage control. Anyone who wants to read the non-fiction version of our encounter can check out my blog entries on JUST ANOTHER POV. It’s all in the archives. I hope our friends on the Delicious Demon website will take the time to read your story and also read my little vignettes. (BTW, they are being published as I write this.) They can then make up their own minds as to which one of us is the memoirist and which one is the fiction writer.

*posted on

Sunday, November 20, 2005



What do Norman Mailer, Philip Roth, Ted Kooser, Gore Vidal, Tom Wolfe, John Updike, Harold Pinter, John Ashbery, E.L.Doctorow, Edward Albee, Stanley Kunitz, William Styron, Kurt Vonnegut and J.D Salinger all have in common?


None of them delivers pizzas.

Bonus Question:

Why is that, Ken?

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

WHERE'S THE MUSIC? (Parody of Human Nature)

Look around - where's the music?
Someone took it away
All I hear is Michael Jackson
'Cause that's all they play

See him hide behind dark glasses
One white glove in the air
What's he like? What's his problem?
I don't even care ....... and I say

Why ... why ... why must I hear Michael Jackson?
Why ... why ... do they play him all day?
Why ... why ... I'm so tired of Michael Jackson
Why ... why ... won't he just go away?

Check him out - look him over
Things are not what they seem
Lips so thin - nose so narrow
Plastic surgeon's dream!

All that rouge and mascara
All that lipstick and gloss
Now I know who he looks like!
It's Diana Ross! ....... and I say

Why ... why ... why must I hear Michael Jackson?
Why ... why ... do they play him all day?
Why ... why ... I'm so tired of Michael Jackson
Why ... why ... won't he just go away?
I don't care what they say!
Wish he'd just go away!
Far ....far ...away.........Far ....far ...away..........

In The Globe and The Enquirer
At the checkout display
"Michael's Hair Catches Fire"
"Is He Straight Or Gay?"........... and I say

Why ... why ... is it always Michael Jackson?
Why ... why ... do they play him all day?
Why ... why ... I'm so tired of Michael Jackson
Why ... why.... wish he'd just go away!
I don't care what they say!
Wish he'd just go away!
Wish he'd just go away!
Far .... far ....away...........Far .... far ... away ...........

Tuesday, November 15, 2005


On the internet
it’s easy to find men who
don’t want to meet you.*

*Fantasy is the new reality. Why spoil a good thing?


Sunday, November 13, 2005


To Paraphrase Marie Antoinette: Let Them Eat Prose

Ken is conflicted.

He loves mankind but he

can't stand people.

He locks himself in his room

and writes eloquent essays.

Saturday, November 12, 2005



There once was a man
who had two heads.
Neither one worked at all.

The head on his neck
was way too big.
The little one was too small.*

* Or so he always said. This factoid is endearing, hauntingly intriguing and, unfortunately for both of us, a constant turn-on.

Thursday, November 10, 2005



Congreve got it wrong.

Hell hath no fury like a

scornful woman, Ken.

And you never did dump me.

You’re all fiction and no friction.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005



To everything there is a season (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8.)

When old men
deliver pizza
there is a reason.

doesn’t say
what it is.

But I’d bet my ass
in your case
it involves bad karma.

Sunday, November 06, 2005



Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread-eagled against the sky
Like an alcoholic passed out upon the sidewalk.



A brown recluse can be
a spider or a poet
who can't deal
with the real world.
The spider spins her web
out of silk.
The poet weaves
a web of lies.



Wide-load circus freaks
wearing NYFD caps and NFL jackets
block my path.

They cruise the aisles
filling their carts with diet soda
and snacks.

Wedding rings
on fat fingers
mock me.

Thursday, November 03, 2005



He’s not someone
I would date.
He’s got too much
on his plate.


He’s bipolar
and he’s bi.
Not a
user - friendly guy.

Oh, the kinky
things he’d do!

All those voices
in his head.
Ice picks
underneath the bed?

I still love his
sorry ass.
But I think
I’m gonna pass.  

* He’s actually underemployed – but that didn’t scan.



Charlemagne and Charles Martel.
Alas, poor Deeplip knew them well.
Sophocles and Pericles.
(She crammed for those damned SATs!)
Malthus, Mather, Proust, Cezanne,
Galileo, Thomas Mann,
Darwin, Pepys, Thomas More,
Louis VII and Eleanor.
Now at last it's payback time.
She knows how to make them rhyme.

Tuesday, November 01, 2005



Sons of bitches are ok.
I’ve known and loved more than a few.
Alcoholics are doable. After all,
alcohol is their problem, not mine.
Manic depressives can be talented
and exciting as all get out.
Starving artists don't faze me.
(Been there, done that.)
Let me think about that one
and I’ll get back to you.


You'll wear a cravat
while I cravoot*, cavorting
in my  birthday suit.

*from Ken’s new book, The Jack Daniel’s Book of Neologisms