Saturday, March 28, 2009

Coming Soon

Stuffies will quit being an invite-only blog today. Like most of my decisions, it was made in a hasty effort to be responsible and almost immediately regretted. My apologies to those of you who downloaded Firefox in vain, I had no idea that making my blog invite-only would make it entirely inaccessible to Safari users.

I will also no longer be re-posting updates on my Livejournal or my Myspace. In the case of the former it has become too much trouble; in the latter, Myspace changes all my links to a warning that my page is spam. This would normally be enough to get me to leave Myspace altogether, except that is where the largest community of straight male feedees is to be found. Which should be a post someday, my musings on the Feederism community of Myspace. When the rest of you quit using it, only the fetishists will be left.

Speaking of future posts, I recently attended one of Jefferson's orgies. The feeders and feedees in the audience have most likely not have heard of him, his blog or the huge mess he got into not too long ago. Long story short, the sex blogosphere was divided over whether he is a manipulative bastard or just made bad decisions. I was about evenly split down the middle myself, though perhaps my next posts will clear things up a little. Or perhaps people are just sick of reading about him, who knows.

Actually, I debated writing about the orgy for another reason: it's not Feederism sex. There were various party foods served, but I didn't force anyone to drink an entire bottle of soda. In fact I have hardly ever written about a real, live, Feederism sex scene on this blog. This is because I have never yet had real, live, Feederism sex, though I would like to have it more than anything else in the world (including a night in bed with Starbuck, Jonathan Rhys Meyers and an end to the recession.)

The reasons for this lack of what this blog is supposed to be about are myriad. But it can most easily be summed up in a quote this from this excellent paper on the subject of Feederism:

Given that people interested in feederism do not hold annual conventions, subscribe to a certain type of magazine, nor are they formally members of any one particular organization, finding participants could have been extremely challenging. Not only are participants in this community not socially organized for real life meetings and conventions, they are also few and far between. They span the globe but are few in numbers.

Thus, I've been trying to spread out in my erotic interests--in other words, see if there might actually be another way for me to get off besides feeding boys gallons of ice cream. I'm not yet ready to say "everything is broken" like Bitchy Jones, but nor do I want to set myself up for a sexual life in which satisfaction is almost impossible to find. Which I think is the healthiest way to look at life when you have a very strong desire for something so rare, but leaves me the question of whether or not I should continue to blog.

And I think the answer is yes. Because, even though my circumstances do not currently allow me to make love in the highly strange fashion which is my ultimate desire, I still have "fat eyes". In other words, I tend to see the world through Feederism-colored glasses, no matter how much of a stretch it might be. In addition, the orgy was attended by a great number of curvy women and at least one FA, though I don't think he knows that's what they're called. For the first time I found myself complimented openly on my curves, and to my chagrin I found I hardly knew what to do with myself.

At any rate, writing up the orgy will take a considerable amount of time. It will lead to a week or two of almost continuous posts on this blog, and I hope you all will comment lavishly--I promise to give my leisure hours over to answering every one. Or, at least every one for which I can think up a witty rejoinder. I've had big plans for there to be more and better photos too, and maybe even some links to hot Feederism stories...but all of that is still in the vague planning stages. I may, as usual, have bit off more than I can chew.

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