Say the word fantasy. Now say the word fantasies. Fantasies is better, non? It's more drawn out, more satisfying. A small difference, but "fantasies" excites me, whereas "fantasy" does not. Perhaps I'm a slut, or a schizophrenic, or I take Will Saphire's "On Language" in the Times too seriously. Whatever! But I like fantasies.

March was good for fantasies: the overly-long winter had driven me stir-crazy, my regular nookie had been workin' way too hard, some real rock'n'roll had finally made it to Puddletown, and summer was so close that I was yearning for it with every atom of my being. What fantasies get you going, ladies and gents? I'll tell you mine....

The first stems from high school--from those first quiverings in a girl's abdomen, when she feels like she has magnetic panties. Wet magnetic panties. This particular fantasy always blossoms in my mind after a couple of drinks--just like High School. I look at a guy, cigarette dangling from pouty lips, and I stare at his crotch and make out that almost imperceptible bulge in his pants. Somethin' about the coutured cock gets me hot and
bothered. Is it cuz I did nuthin' but the blue jean jam for the first few years of my adolescence, when every tiny step is a giant leap for mankind? Whatever it is, I'm still stuck on it. I bite my bottom lip....lick my top lip....I love it!

Another fantasy I have is that America will put the rock back in rock'n'roll. It's as similarly subtle as a coutured cock. You can be loud and sound like Nirvana and not rock, you know. And you can be coy and Costello-y and not roll. It takes magic. Somethin' spiritual and somethin' that cannot be forced to create the rock monster. You wanna see what I mean? Check out tried-and-true Zen Guerrilla (next page) on April 3rd and 22nd, Portland's The Viles (mmm mmm so mahvelous), or super-rockers JP5 who visited Pornland March 26th (I smell an interview!). JP5 is fronted by a stripper, and that's important, but more importantly, they ROCK. They have the magic....the FEVER. I adore them and I want to be them someday.

My final fantasy for this month is, well, that summer will come and I can dust off my delectable, slutty outfits that I clothe myself in come summer! There's the crocheted string bikini top from Bali, the powder blue corset halter top from Guess, and those precious chunky rubber heels with crisscrossed comics on them from the Future. Oh! So many things I've been hoarding during this hideously long hibernation! No more biker boots, leggings, and the same three goddamn black cashmere turtleneck sweaters (in baggy, classy, and tight) that I've been wearing every day for the past five months! Now I can drag out that impossibly short white skirt, the pink Marilyn Monroe halter top, and my rad rollerskates, decorated with Sailor Moon stickers and pink laces that say "diva" on them. In summer, the smiling slut in me lives again. Bring it on!!

LATE-BREAKING FABULOUSNESS: Super-girl Teresa Dulce is having a Danzine/Sex-worker Filmmaker benefit on Saturday, April 17th at the Mark Woolley Gallery (120 NW 9th #210) from 6:30 - 9:30 pm. These events are always heart-stopping, life-changing, over-21-only shindigs. This particular one will feature local sex-worker-made films and Live! Nude! Girls! Unite! by filmmaker Julia Query. Also, Viva Las Vegas has been asked to sing..... Be there or be sorry, you lazy, luscious thing, you.