Sexpo and the City

A very tame photograph but I was so caught up in the event that it wasn't until the last few minutes before I had to hoof it across town for my bus that I realised I hadn't taken any photos. Cameras weren't permitted anyway but we were allowed to use our mobile phone cameras 'sensibly' ha!

The above photo shows a couple of boys from some male entertainment group. I saw their show on Thursday when I was at Sexpo to help out at The Australian Sex Party stall. Sexpo was pretty quiet that day so I had plenty of time to walk around. I saw a couple of shows that day. This all male performance though was a bit of a let-down. There were about 10 men in the show and they were all dressed in suits and they came out on stage with some kind of big black fake guns and started into a routine that seemed to be pretty violent to me. I was not aroused or should I say amused. Eventually a few of them ripped their shirts open and I thought things would get going. There were a few hot dance moves choreographed in there but mostly it was a shoot 'em up flop. Then they all stood in a line facing the crowd and the announcer said that if we wanted to see more flesh then we would have to scream for it. Well, the performers seemed to think the audience was lack-lustre and they basically turned on their dance heels and stormed off the stage in what looked to me very much like a bunch of spoiled 2-year olds having a sulk. 

When I visited Sexpo again on Sunday to help out at the SLUTwalk stall I caught this same show again just before I headed home. The Sunday crowd was muuuuch bigger and the performers responded by ripping their shirts open earlier and then ripping them off altogether and really getting into the show. They even hung around on stage longer flexing their muscles before exiting in a much more exuberant manner. 

Compare this behaviour to the female performances. I sat down for the pole-dancing show and each girl came onto the stage already in g-string, bra and heels and got right down to business making sweet love to the pole. It was great! I entered a competition for free pole-dancing lessons then and there! 

There were also video loops on big screens of earlier shows that I had missed and there was pa-lenty to see if you like female flesh. We're talking round surgically enhanced boobs and shaven vaginas sometimes artistically layered on top of each other! There was nothing left to the imagination. 

There were also plenty of women handing out flyers around the venue dressed in lingerie or little 'skirts' with more bum poking out than what was covered. I even had the pleasure of tattooing (temporary tats) to a number of breasts and one lovely behind. The tooshie belonged to a girl who was only wearing a g-string, the rest of her body was artistically painted, no nipple shield! Now, I thought all of this was fabulous. I soon felt quite comfortable around all of these scantily clad women.  

The male action consisted of a few men getting around with their shirts off most of whom were dressed in some kind of officer type outfit, e.g. FBI or SWAT team, guns and all. Whilst I appreciated the view it did kind of reek of a real macho arrogance... because the men also seemed a lot less approachable than the women and if the male performers were anything to go by they seemed to expect the women to fall to their knees in adoration whereas the female performers just got right to it and delivered every time!

Anyway, that's my little take on what I saw going on around me. I've got lots to tell you about the SLUTwalk stall but I'll save that for another day.  On my way home I was 'chaperoned' by a very friendly and drunken group of country folk 

who convinced me to pose as a planker in their series of planking attempts. I had been a little intimidated about hiking across the city by myself at night but I soon discovered that the city has many secrets and friendly havens. I bought myself a drink at a quaint English pub on the way to the station and congratulated myself for being out on my own soaking up the magic of the city.