Sapiosexual Summer Solstice & Another Midsummer Night’s (Wet) Dream in Bonoboville
Length 01:52:20 Date: June 23, 2018
Summer Solstice is upon us, the great star that nurtures life on Earth shining directly above the Tropic of Cancer, as the sunrise aligns with the mystical stones of Stonehenge, and the northern hemisphere of Earth basks in the most sunlight of the year.
Tis the season of hot nights and sizzling hot romance. Time to get in touch with nature, frolic among the flowers or under the stars and make sexy summer love, away from the computer, the “fake news” and, especially, the horrible Trumps.
But not this Summer Solstice. At the time of this live broadcast, it feels like the Trump Crime Family has reached a new low with the refugee crisis, separating thousands of migrant children from their desperate parents, locking up crying toddlers in cages, violating some of the most basic norms of human decency. If we look at the “news”—real, fake and the messed up combo—we can’t “get away” from these horrors. And maybe at this point, we really shouldn’t get away; we should actively “resist” the evil in our midst before it eats us alive.
But how? Get out in the summer sun and make our voices heard—at the border, in our cities and on the interwebs. The ongoing catastrophe of our times is, once again, pitting Eros vs. Thanatos, loving vs. killing. I believe we engage in a kind of “lovemaking” when we join with our fellow humans to stand up for the downtrodden multitudes inside and outside our borders, against the American oligarchy who would exterminate them/us like an “infestation” or exploit them like slaves, all while breezily letting the world know they “REALLY DON’T CARE, DO YOU?”
About that jacket: Melania spokeswoman Stephanie Grisham informs us testily, “It’s a jacket. There was no hidden message.” That’s true, the “message” isn’t “hidden” at all; it’s right out in the open on our high-fashion First Lady’s billionaire back, letting the basest of her husband’s base (and the rest of us) know just how she feels about this human calamity caused by her husband’s and his predecessors’ policies. In politics, as in sex, as in life, the obvious explanation is often the right one: She really doesn’t care.
Either that or it’s the most tone-deaf statement a ruling class woman has dropped since French Queen Marie Antoinette answered the outcry “the people have no bread” with “let them eat cake.”
It’s no joke, it’s not sexy, and it’s dastardly enough to inspire the desire for violent revolution, which is totally understandable but doomed to fail since the American military and its domestic wing, aka the police, not to mention the budding “Space Force,” would easily outgun and out-bomb the revolutionaries. Violent revolution would probably make things worse (yes, it can get a whole lot worse), giving the Mango Mussolini and his fellow plutocrats the excuse they crave to lock up the entire lot of us with “Marshall Law.”
Thus, I continue to look to RƎVO˩ution, caring, eros, good (consensual) sex, old Beatles songs, empathy for our fellow creatures and peace through pleasure, aka the Bonobo Way, as my guide through this awful all-too-human mess.
Wry, Jamila, Loveshaft, Lahna & Lena
So we gather together, in the Womb Room “sanctuary” of our little “Church” of Bonoboville, as we do almost every Saturday night, just like some folks gather in churches on Sunday morning—but oh so different!
Yellow isn’t exactly my color, but I wear it with gold and touches of blue and rainbows to honor the sun.
We share stories of sex, relationships, trauma (personal and political) and culture, we sing and dance, show off and play, reveal intimate truths and discover connections, incidental aphrodisiacs and erotic moments.
It’s all very sapiosexual, sometimes heart-wrenching and occasionally epiphanic with bursts of wild corporeal release.
This gathering features polyamorous Renaissance Man, Wry, host of “A Wry Perspective” and “Poly Talks,” on top of being one of the leaders of Sex-Positive LA and whose many projects include launching a “new platform regarding mental health, trauma, survivor support, and consent,” with private and public meetings and a tour planned for several American cities.
Wry brings along a couple of fellow sexperts, effervescent writer and licensed sex therapist Jamila Dawson plus rainbow-haired drag king astrophysicist (working on his bachelor’s degree at UCI) and founder of the Pangaea Queer Cabaret, HP Loveshaft.
Wry has been on the show several times and was just here last Saturday at the Speakeasy Journal Launch Party. I met Jamila and HP (in his other character as Anastasia) at various DomCons over the last couple of years, but this is the first time on DrSuzy.Tv for both. It’s always nice to have a mix of veterans and virgins in the Womb Room, mixing up the trust with lust, the comforting familiar with the exciting unknown.
To my left is a rather exciting brand new guest, comedian/musician Lahna Turner, who sings a couple of her awesome, funny, sexy songs in the second half of the show that inspire us to delve into even greater depths of sapiosexual conversation. More on that erotic musical revelation in a few paragraphs, so just keep going down (if you know what I mean)…
Next to Lahna is Lena (how alliterative). Porn performer Lena Starr was born in Poland (another immigrant!). When I ask her to “talk dirty” in Polish, she blushes more like a schoolgirl than a porn star, but gamely comes up with “Pani jest bardzo gorạca.” According to Mars FX, our Polish translator-in-residence, this translates to “Your Madame-ship is hot.”
“So, you’re a Russian agent?” I presume.
“Of course,” HP replies with a wink and a twirl of his pretty pencil mustache.
A Midsummer Night’s (Wet) Dream
The British call summer solstice “Midsummer,” even though it’s the beginning, not the middle of summer.
One explanation for this seeming contradiction is that our ancestors thought in terms of two seasons (as opposed to our current four): just summer and winter, summer starting with the vernal equinox and ending with the autumnal one, putting the summer solstice at “midsummer” exactly.
Which brings me to the iconic Shakespearean Summer Solstice revelry, one of the Bard’s most beloved comedic-erotic masterpieces, “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” It’s most famous line, uttered by Puck the Faerie sprite, “Lord, what fools these mortals be,” seems more appropriate than ever.
One of the recurring themes of the original “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” is that of the “ass,” who appears in both human and donkey form, and whose name is, unsurprisingly, “Bottom.” The full name is Nick Bottom, but “Bottom” is the important part.
Maybe this is why my Ass. producer Phoenix Dawn is so naughty this show, constantly jabbering off-mic—which she knows very well is a punishable offense on DrSuzy.Tv—earning the jabberer’s naughty bottom an on-camera spanking.
Sometimes I attempt to stop her from talking off-mic by simply placing my hand over her mouth.
It’s exasperating, especially when I’m trying to move things along, but it does give me an opportunity to promote the upcoming issue of Speakeasy Journal, “Spanking for Adults Only,” as well as practice my whipping prowess on Phoenix’s beautiful bum during the show and on into the after party.
It brings to mind the line uttered by the infatuated Faerie Queen Titania to Oberon, her Faerie King, as she awakens from “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” in Act 4, Scene 1:
“My Oberon, what visions have I seen! Methought I was enamored of an ass…”
In between spankings, we carry on chatting about sex-positive culture, like wind instruments (no pun intended) jamming between drum sets.
Support Sex Workers: Repeal SESTA/FOSTA
Wry is active on many sex-positive fronts, including the pro-Sex Workers, anti-SESTA/FOSTA campaign. As we’ve said many times on the show (but it doesn’t hurt to say it again): SESTA/FOSTA purports to “stop sex trafficking” of minors (which everyone wants to do), but it accomplishes nothing of the sort. Rather it enhances the dangers of trafficking as well as causing real harm to consensual, non-trafficked, adult sex workers and it greatly curtails all of our free speech on the Internet.
Of course, America’s Top John signed this bad bill into being,the remembrance of which causes me to grab my tRUMP “punching bag” dildonic pillow and whack it with a Forbes so hard that Wry almost spills his drink.
But we can’t deny that 98 out of 100 Senators on both sides of the aisle voted to pass SESTA. Sigh. How many dolls can we spank?
Jamila is very disappointed that Cali Senator Kamala Harris signed SESTA—not to mention initiated the prosecutions against Backpage—especially since Jamila agrees with Kamala on so many other issues.
I feel her frustration, and I’m hoping Senator Harris can eventually be swayed toward repealing SESTA/FOSTA, as well as decriminalizing consensual adult sex work. Our good friends Goddess Soma and Mistress Tara are actively engaging senators and congresspeople to make our usually silent voices heard.
In the midst of all this serious discussion, I feel the need for a “fun” break. Apparently so does everyone else in the Womb Room which breaks out into whoops (not womps!) of joy.
Since Phoenix is already reflexively pulling off her bra, it seems fitting for her to be the Altar Girl.
When I ask the group who wants to take Communion, Wry’s hand shoots up, whereupon Phoenix puts on her “I Really Do Care” jacket, only to take it off again in a lascivious striptease and lap dance to the tune of Carmina Formosa’s “The Kinkster,” inspired by the Bonobo Way.
Phoenix culminates her lapdance by dropping down between Wry’s legs as if she’s about to be Waterboarded.
I take her pretty face into my hands and gently remind her that she’s to be the Altar Girl for Wry’s Communion.
Whereupon she rises “like the Phoenix” and acrobatically flops on the bed.
Before Communion, Wry confesses that he was “almost” an Altar Boy, as he was raised in such a devout Catholic milieu. Though not sexually abused by any priests, he certainly got mind-fucked by the ornately sex-negative Catholic dogmas. When I explain that the Church of Bonoboville enjoys the uplifting rituals of religion without the sex-negativity, he licks Phoenix’s Altar like a sinner thirsty for redemption.
See, this is the “wet” part of the dream….
I get so excited I almost forget to sprinkle on the sacred salt. When I do, Phoenix squeals in ecstasy as she and Wry commune.
Then it’s time for the first Waterboarding of Summer.
Summer Solstice is, of course, a heathen holiday, as are all the best holidays (see Valentine’s Day, Spring Equinox, etc.), at least originally. In the pagan tradition, the Summer Solstice moon is called the “Honey Moon” because it’s slightly golden, and everybody merrily quaffs mead made of fermented honey during the many weddings held around Summer Solstice.
We don’t have any mead in the Womb Room, but we do have Agwa de Bolivia Herbal Coca Leaf Liqueur.
Though this is Waterboarding, Bonobo-Style, not CIA Chief “Bloody Gina” Haspel-style, it’s still a bit of an ordeal and I must say, Wry takes his waterboarding like a good P.O.W.
We are all P.O.W’s in the .001%’s war on the rest of us.
Beyond being fun, consensual and delicious, Waterboarding, Bonobo-Style climaxes with “getting lei’ed.”
We have a few more minutes before the break so I ask if anyone else wants to be an Altar. Porn Star Lena’s hand shoots up, but surprise, surprise, she doesn’t really want to be an Altar, she wants to take Communion from Phoenix’s Altar which she had been “sizing up” before the show.
I’m a little disappointed that we don’t get to see her tatas (there are complex reason for this, though she doffs her top later), but hey, we go with the flow on this show, and consent is always the name of the game.
Moreover, it’s just as well that I won’t be waterboarding Phoenix who seems to be flying high as a mythical born-again bird in the starry midsummer night sky. Whee…
After her First Communion, Lena’s so inspired she gets down on her hands and knees and twerks!
When we come back from the break, it’s time for a song by the hilarious and soulful Lahna Turner.
Lahna, a mother of two, is one hot MILF, much like the actress Lana Turner (whose badass daughter, Cheryl, stabbed Lana’s horribly abusive boyfriend, mobster Johnny Stompanato, to death when Cheryl was just 14—but that’s another story). Our Lahna looks particularly sexy in a slinky grey silk and black lace slip with a big acoustic guitar nestled into her crotch.
She introduces her first song innocently enough, explaining that she’d written it for her beloved mother, whom I guess is also a hot MILF. Lahna isn’t so sure about that, but when I ask her the name of the song she’s about to sing, she says it doesn’t have a name, but that I can give it a name, so I call it “The MILF Song.” Though upon hearing it, I think maybe it should be called “The Little Dick Ditty”…
My mama was wise, her proverbs we’re good
if you listen to mama, life turns out like it should
She said grass is greener on the other side
And be careful what you put in your mouth and your behind
my mama was wise, my mama knew
small decks are perfect for oral and anal too
mama said sucking big cock isn’t fun
if you’re going to lick a dick it’s best to lick a little one
yeah mama said the Deep Throat you’ve got to be a nut
and no one wants monster cock going in their butt
too much of a good thing ain’t good mama knew
that small dicks are perfect for oral and anal too
granny said big wiener ain’t a big win
you can make up for size with a cucumber spatula or rolling pin
yeah many things go in a vagina according to granny
but only certain things fit proper inside your fanny
great granny told granny so my moma knew
That small decks are perfect for oral and anal too
It’s a lesson past through generation not to pass on little dick
just to get a guy with a big one who’s a real prick
because size it don’t matter when you’re old and gray
when that dick it don’t work no more anyway
because even a little pecker can hit a clit
my mama knew that small dicks are perfect for oral and anal too
yeah small decks are perfect for oral and anal too
yeah small dicks are perfect for oral and Anal too
What a crazy silly sexy subversive delight. We all sing along with the chorus, just like a Church choir, or a gang of demented pervs.
Amen and AWOMEN!
We ask for an encore and out comes “Recycle Song,” which is actually even more of a MILF song than the first one.
I even bring out my Wondrous Vulva Puppet for this one.
I begin to think I was looking fine, young boy smiled at me
I flirted back give him a week I took him seriously
I thought it was on sparks in the air he started to walk my way
He waved at my kids, called me “Ma’am,” then he turned and walked away
I sat there dejected feeling very lame
then it occurred to me all pussy needs a new PR campaign
always recycle do not be confused
brother you know the truth is it’s better when it’s used
If the muffler is good and the engine purrs too
who cares about dents, you never should buy new
kids might mess it up but all it needs is love
like your favorite old T-shirt or a beat up baseball glove
good things get better with age that the cars wine boots and boots
So tap mamas ass, It’s better when it’s used
if you find yourself a cougar do not throw away
like meatloaf or lasagna it’s always better the next day
pussy doesn’t spoil so just turn out the light like sexual prime age steak with a touch of cellulite
if you find yourself a MILF you’re going to have some fun
and the best part there’s milk and cookies when you’re done
What a sapiossexual riot Ms. Lahna is. As we get to talking about the real woman behind the kooky character, she reveals that she is a survivor of great, relatively recent loss, as the widow of famous late comedian Ralphie May who died of pneumonia in November, 2017. Suddenly, after all that musical comedy, as she talks about their intense love, her fear for his health (at his heaviest, Ralphie weighed 800 pounds), their devastating divorce and then his death, a torrent of serious emotion pours forth, and it seems to flood all of us with empathetic feelings.
Then Wry offers that he actually met Ralphie at a meeting at a Universal Music and Video Distribution in 2003, and how inspired he was by Ralphie’s bubbling positivity and, of course, his razor-sharp humor.
It’s a touching moment.
Listen to the show above or watch on DrSuzy.Tv to hear Lahna’s and Wry’s stories about Ralphie and the jokes that were based on Ralphie and Lahna’s life together.
We also talk about her struggle with his size, especially as it pertained to his health. This sparks an interesting discussion about sex, love, body image and body shame.
We Are One
It’s almost time to close the show, and though it would be nice to wind all this craziness up with a romantic happy ending like Shakespeare does in “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” that doesn’t feel right, and the clock is ticking in more ways than one.
It’s always fun in Bonoboville, but it’s a relatively serious night that calls for a serious song from Bonoboville’s Rapper-in-Residence, Ikkor the Wolf.
“We Are One.”
Black and White, Citizens and Immigrants, Resisters and Trumpers, Sex-Negative Religionists and Sex-Positive Kinksters. America feels more divided than it has been in years.
The fact is we are one race, the human race. Science proves that fact, and we can feel it in our bones and bloodstreams in moments like this.
The super-rich do everything in their great power to divide the poor and the middle classes so we don’t unite against them.
In these times, it’s important to resist the evil in whatever peaceful way we can. For instance, I’m happy to see that a Red Hen restaurant politely refused to serve Sarah Huckabee Sanders. Three cheers and a bonobo beer for the owner. After all, the Supreme Court ruled that bakers don’t have to bake a cakes for gay weddings, so shouldn’t restaurants be allowed to deny service to bigoted liars who try to cover up evil?
No justice, no dinner!
As Paul Rudnick opines, “Sarah Huckabee Sanders has fought gay marriage, gays in the military and she agreed with her dad when he called gays ‘subhuman.’ She should get used to being denied entry at nice places, like restaurants, democracies and heaven.” Hey but I don’t really care, do you?
Actually, I do care. Many of my clients and a few of my friends and relatives are Trump supporters. They are correct when they say that the evil that so many of us see so clearly now was going on under the radar during the Obama years; it has been going on in America since the Europeans invaded this continent with guns and small pox. And that’s just in America. Nevertheless, the Trump Crime Family has made just about everything bad about America a whole lot worse.
Still, these words are truth: We are one.
Humanity is a communal species, and all of nature is codependent. If we don’t recognize it, we won’t be one. Nor will we be two or three or 10 billion. We’ll be zero. Mother Earth will go on without us.
And we need to remember what we already know in our bones, in our genetic code, in the souls within our flesh: We are one.
Meanwhile, even though this isn’t Ikkor’s prime twerking song, “She Bad,” Lena pulls up her skirt and shows off her ass (there’s Shakespeare’s “Bottom” again!) and twerks away. She bad!
Then Phoenix says something off-mic, so I have to spank her again.
With me still getting the hang of Goddess Phoenix’s whip, some of my other guests also feel the ding as I swing.
Sorry Lahna and Jamila!
Entering A Midsummer Night’s Wet Dream through My Enchanted Forest
We follow the Bonobo Way into overtime…
That spawns spin-off sapiosexual and political conversations.
Then we enter the Enchanted Forest of the Speakeasy Bar.
There we act out “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” scene between Phoenix’s “Bottom” and Goddess Phoenix’s magical faerie whip.
Very dreamy, Commedia Erotica-style.
We also make out, our tongues swimming in the current like electric eels.
Eventually, the party dies down to the diehards.
There he enters his Midsummer Night’s Wet Dream through my enchanted forest (currently shaved of foliage, but dark and quite wet), and the two of us–charged up from the evening’s emotion, talent, sparkling wits and electric whips, cool fools and hot Bottoms–fly like the faeries into orgasmic bliss.
Stay strong, Brothers and Sisters. Resist Oppression, Repression, Occupation and Tyranny, and stay in love all summer long.
Thanks to Our Volunteers: Videographers-Michah W, Visio Ryan; Photographers – Hugo Flores, Capture It, Jux Lii; On-Campus Bonobos – Phoenix Dawn, Abe Perez, Camille Rosebud, Mita Altair, Harry Sapien, Gideon G., MarsFX, Clemmy Cockatoo, Ana & Miguel.
© June 23, 2018. Susan Block, Ph.D., a.k.a. “Dr. Suzy,” is a world renowned LA sex therapist, author of The Bonobo Way: The Evolution of Peace through Pleasure and horny housewife, occasionally seen on HBO and other channels. For speaking engagements, call 310-568-0066.
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