Sunday, March 25, 2007

introducing the extra-fancy Ms Pants


I recently had the pleasure of working with an extraordinary lady of ladies: Ms Pants. Someday many of you will also take pleasure in Ms Pants, as long as you pay money to ISM or BA at the appropriate times (which will be announced emphatically everwhere by me when they approach).

I met Ms Pants again for the first time when I picked her up at 9 am for what turned out to be a 14-hour porno adventure. Several years ago, Ms Pants and I shared awkward conversation over a few Red Stripes in a bar in Pittsburgh with a 'mutual friend', but our interaction was limited and perhaps not under the best conditions. Luckily, we are both total myspace whores, and began to carry out a torrid myspace affaire over the years since our first awkward beers. Ms Pants is tremendously awkward, as am I, so it was a match made in...um, myspace.

Ms Pants is also fabulously well-to-do. And a Leo, which apparently has nothing to do with anything.

One of the things that really fascinates me about Ms Pants is her knack for self-documentation. One cool thing about email friendships is that you are constantly being self-reflexive and self-representational, and the craft you exercise there can be quite revealing to the person who's reading all of your dirty secrets. One thing I can definitely say about Ms Pants is that there is just so very much there to represent, and I really love(d) the whole unwrapping-of-layers that is getting to know her.

Knowing her proclivities for self-documentation and her sexy queer politics and her variety of camera-faces, and because she asked me loads of questions about how one might go about getting naked on the internet, I felt that Ms Pants would be an excellent contributor to the sites I work for, so I told her that if she didn't get naked on camera for me, I'd quit being friends with her. I also offered her facon, which sweetened the deal a bit, as she didn't really seem to care about my threat of cancelled friendship.

Ms Pants happens to love facon (see below).

So we agreed to spend an entire day together making porno, starting with haggard breakfast and coffee. Our plan was to explore the unexplored territory of someplace in West Virginia and get her naked in the great outdoors and gala-vant all over the goddamn place. And that's just what we did. We began with our planned haggard breakfast at The Q Gay, and we ordered the same thing because we're so ladylike. And it was really cheap because in Pittsburgh breakfast is no more than $8.00. Ever.

Then we went to check out her desired Agony location, which was a 70s Porndiscospandexpalace in which her current crush locates her bed and personal effects and collection of naked polaroids. I shall call this crush Admiral Wastehammer, though I have not obtained permission and may be subject to legal repercussions. I'm just that racy. So, at Admiral Wastehammer's house, there is a door, and when that door is open, there is light, and when that light is shining on Ms Pants, she is pretty, and when she is pretty, she is masturbating, or some other logical conclusion. Unfortunately, when that door is open, there is also construction happening across the street, and in several other places in the neighbourhood, and there are builders going in and out and talking in indecipherable Pittsburgh accents about jaggers and chipchopped ham, and when a lady such as Ms Pants is trying to Agonise just on the other side of that door, there must be a lookout. So Admiral Wastehammer and I got cold coffee and books (though both of us can no longer read due to our bilingualism) and pretended to read them while we played lookout and thought about our mutual friend Ms Pants doing her dirty, dirty business while we were pretending to be literate. One of the builders asked us whether or not we happened to be starting a neighbourhood book club, which of course we weren't because we cannot read, but we told him we were so he would stop talking to us and so that Agony subscribers wouldn't have to listen to him talk any more. Anyway, who would start a book club on the sidewalk in the middle of a Pittsburgh winter? Jagoff.

Anyway, Ms Pants did something so sinful I can't even talk about it here, and I was really nervous the whole time about background noise and the light and whether I had framed things exactly right and whether I would fired before I even started my job and whether or not she hated the experience. But I played all cool and shit, because I'm from Pittsburgh.

The next item on our agenda was to drive to someplace, West Virginia for an ISM session in the snowy woodsiness. I was thrilled about this, because I love to travel and I love to drive and I love to see things I've never seen before, and I love to do those things even more when they're in the name of porno. Admiral Wastehammer was so intrigued by our porno morning that she wanted to come along for our porno afternoon and evening, so she slapped on some spandex (well, she already had it on, but i wanted to use that phrase, so imagine that she didn't) and we got her some Subway and off we went on the BIGGEST ADVENTURE OF OUR LIVES. Yeah, seriously.

The drive was pretty fantastic - lots of winding, narrow backroads with railroad tracks and a creek along with us for the ride. Snowy yards, old farmhouses, crazy people in camoflage jackets and 'NO MA'AM' t-shirts, little springs flowing down the rocks alongside the road, and tons of other awesomenesses that I would have photographed if we weren't running out of daylight and on a porno mission. I'm sure r. would have been pissed if I turned in a folio of cows instead of Ms Pants in various states of undress. He's really picky.

Admiral Wastehammer is the Jesus of rockhard rock, and a mountain climber, and knows Katie Doody.

When we finally arrived at our desired location, we peed in a sink in a half-built eco-house and began along our merry way. Both Admiral Wastehammer and I have similar degress of desire to see Ms Pants nude (for very different reasons, obviously), so it was our luckiest day. We hiked around West Virginia hillsides, climbed trees, ate poisonous berries, killed salmon with spears, found an abandoned oil rig, got muddy, orienteered, and healed a small bird's broken wing and taught it to fly, all while Ms Pants got naked and cold and documented it photographically. We made sick jokes and then Ms Pants' mommy gave us chili and cornbread and we looked at old photographs of Ms Pants as a wee Miss. All in all, a smashing time was had by all. Getting muddy for porno is so incredibly gratifying.

Then we began the long journey back to Pittsburgh, during which Admiral Wastehammer fell asleep and I had my first long and thoughtful in-person conversation with Ms Pants. Admiral Wastehammer did wake up at one point when Veganaise was mentioned, but I think we lost her again shortly after the Veganaise conversation ended. The conversation went something like this:

Pants: something something...Veganaise.
BS: mmmm...Veganaise.
Wastehammer: Did someone say 'Veganaise'? Veganaise is the shit.
[the end]

Ms Pants is one helluva smart lady, and I'm really grateful for that 3-hour drive back to Pittsburgh and the conversation we had therein. I love the way she communicates, and how it always sounds sarcastic on the surface because she has a deceptive tone-of-voice and how heartfelt and thoughtful a lot of it is once you catch on to the fact that she isn't being sarcastic. We talked about family and love and school and self-documentation and smarty-pantsness and relationships and haggards and it was totally awesome and now we really wish we lived near each other so that we could have haggard silent morning coffee and late-nite french fries together. And she loves 'This American Life' on NPR.

Ms Pants has a mini tape recorder, with real tapes, and she talks to it every night. I think this is one of the most fascinating things ever, particularly within the theme of self-documentation, which I happen to think is part of what the sites I work for are all about. I had never really considered doing vocal self-documentation, but I have been looking for an alternative to the artifice of writing as, while it is certainly luxurious and useful and intimate, needs to be given a rest once in awhile. So then I think about Ms Pants talkin shit to her mini tape recorder with real tapes, and I think about her playing it back and I think about what she must learn and what kind of perspective that must give to her entire existence and how often she must surprise herself and I get to thinking that this could be a whole new frontier in both the documentation of myself and of the waves on the rocks at Pescadero beach (which I would also record if I had a mini recorder).

Ms Pants is so fucking thoughtful and seems to appreciate references to The Big Lebowski. She is also in Pittsburgh, which means she relates to this whole cultural milieu that is specifically and fantastically Pittsburgh and gritty and down-home and full of greasy food and beer. I loved the sense of familiarity I got from spending a full porno day with her and Admiral Wastehammer. Cool girls in Pittsburgh are a special breed of awesome.

Ms Pants loved the Agony experience so much that she came over to my house and did it again a few days later. I am so grateful to her for letting me test out my wobbly porno legs on her - this was my first experience assisting another ISM artist/Agoness, and I learned so very much from working with her. I was really please to hear that she actually enjoyed herself, and already she's asking for more! Fuck yeah. Once you go porno, you never go back.

Ms Pants is one haggard-ass lady, and I am one lucky-ass bitch to know her.

4 comments:

Desertgirl said...

Don't ever give up writing and self-documentation. You're funny and insightful, I love the way your words flow so easily on your posts.

Blissed said...

Self documentation is interesting. At one time people use to just look in the mirror every morning but now you can see yourself from so many perspectives. It happens on the forums. You can look at your old posts and think OMG!! what was I thinking :) and so you change in ways you wouldn't have otherwise, I think it's really cool.

Ms_Pants said...

pittsburgh is so pittsburgh. and so are jaggers and chipchopped ham.

breanna said...

pittsburgh is so fucking pittsburgh.