Critical Tits 2004 Feedback

Share your pictures and video. Tell us about the sights, sounds, and scents, as well as the rumors and truths found at Burning Man.
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captainerotica
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Critical Tits 2004 Feedback

Post by captainerotica » Thu Sep 09, 2004 5:55 pm

This thread is a place for people to give feedback, suggestions and comment about the Critical Tits Party 2004.

We welcome any stories from the party as well. As the Party Organizer I would like to pass on some suggestions and stories from the community to whomever runs the party next year.

We are also interested as a camp in seeing any photos that were taken of the party this year. While we do try to enforce a camera free zone, we did see many many ladies using cameras and would love to add your photos to our archive of the event.

Thanks again to the 250+ men and women who volunteered to make this years celebration of the goddess by FAR the best ever!

- At your service!
Captain Erotica
Chivalry is not Dead ~ It's Co-Ed

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Markov Chaney
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Post by Markov Chaney » Thu Sep 09, 2004 8:04 pm

Here's a question for ya captain. I located the after party as quickly as I could after the ride started in hopes that I could volunteer my services. When I got there, I was told (rather rudely) that there was no more need for volunteers. Now I realize that there probably were a good number of yahoos trying to get into the event, so I can let the rudeness go. But my desire to serve was sincere... How can I ensure that I have the opportunity to do so next time?

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Post by angelgabe » Thu Sep 09, 2004 9:15 pm

Thanks Capi for letting me help run the massage area!It was great having some responsibility at B-Man,especialy since this was my 5th year,and 3rd year at Critical Tits.It was yet again the highlight of my burn.Thanks also to all of the goddesses that graced our massage tables-it was a true pleasure to serve you all!

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captainerotica
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Post by captainerotica » Fri Sep 10, 2004 9:46 am

Markov-

You ask a great question.

This year we had over 200 volunteers sign up in advance of the playa.

We have hit a Crtical Mass of men who want to help. Not just yahoos but excellent kind brothers like yourself.

The answer to this question is not clear at this time.

We still had big lines at all the 25 service stations we created for the party.
So while it would be nice to have more help so that we could service more of the goddesses, the logisitics of that are pretty difficult to deal with. Plus the size of our camp and the economics of things add to that difficulty.

One solution being looked at is to have a VILLAGE created that will host next years party. IF we do increase the size of the party I will be referanceing this thread in my search for new volunteers.

I ask your patience in the meantime and invite you to keep me aware of your desires as the year progresses!

At your service
Captain Erotica
Chivalry is not Dead ~ It's Co-Ed

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Ugly Dougly
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Re: Critical Tits 2004 Feedback

Post by Ugly Dougly » Fri Sep 10, 2004 10:44 am

captainerotica wrote:We are also interested as a camp in seeing any photos that were taken of the party this year. While we do try to enforce a camera free zone, we did see many many ladies using cameras and would love to add your photos to our archive of the event....
Do you want to have it both ways? :?

prick
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the only time the naked breast has ever done me wrong.

Post by prick » Fri Sep 10, 2004 11:14 am

i, as well as a lot of other people at my camp, accidently ate a hash brownie on thursday morning. halfway through enjoying the moist chocolaty goodness, my friend goes, "those are hash oil, man," and i started spitting. not that i don't like drugs, but thc and i have never quite seen eye to eye, and it makes me feel introverted and dirty in a deep-down, carpeted-teeth, icky way.
2 hours later i was at lost penguin, enjoying chocolate and cheap wine far more than i normally would have, and giggling uncontrollably at the overwhelming negativity of piss clear. someone yelled out that critical tits was starting up, so my girlfriend and i went up a few blocks to 9 (i think) and esplanade to gawk and wonder at one of my favorite yearly spectacles. i suddenly realized why i couldn't speak. i was totally, riotously stoned. and i had an overwhelming need to pee.
we got on our bikes and rode. my bike had been nicknamed "the stairmaster" as a result of the amazing amount of strength it required the rider to exert to get around. oh, shit! earth had been blocked off by the parade. so i headed as fast as i could to 7 o clock, but i couldn't head down the street as the parade had completely taken it over as well. i realized that i was completely trapped, and the nearest potties were waaaaay the hell out by the man. i started trekking out that way, my need to pee, my to-the edge-of-hallucinating brain, and my evil bicycle in tow.
finally it got to be too much. i dropped my bike and decided to pee on the open playa, which i know is wrong, but i thought i was dying. so in the mid-day sun, in front of what seemed to be 40,000 people, i unzipped my fly and pulled my pecker out. and was struck, for the first time in my life, with a case of pee-shy. it felt like everyone in nevada was watching me hold my 'quipment. so i panicked and put it away. but then i told myself i was being ridiculous, that no one could possibly care about the sight of one more exposed genital by thursday, just GO already for chrissakes, and i pulled it out again, only to panick again and put it away. i did this a few times before my girlfriend broke me out of my stupor by yelling, "what the hell are you doing? you've been playing peek-a-boo with your cock for 5 minutes now!"
and she was right. i'm just grateful that i was way too far away from the parade for anyone to think i was jacking off to critical tits. i'd never be able to show my face (or my boys) on the playa again.
so i rode the rest of the way to the man, had a heart-breakingly pleasant urination, and slowly got sober.
which isn't really about critical tits, but that's my memory of the event.

-prick

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EB
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Post by EB » Fri Sep 10, 2004 12:04 pm

Prick,

You had me at "... accidently ate a hash brownie on thursday morning."

Damn, that was funny.
Irony. You're soaking in it.

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Post by jbelson » Fri Sep 10, 2004 1:51 pm

I was an official mister at the party and thought the whole event was great. There wasn't much call for cooling down the ladies due to the weather, so I switched to washing hands which they much appreciated.
From an insiders perspective, I dont know what I'd change really. It seemed to go off great. Maybe a little more organization with the kitchen so you dont run out of crackers and then serve the cheese. But thats the playa for ya.
Kick ass party though. Cant wait to volunteer next year.
Maybe a sign that says no pictures.
"I gotta have more cowbell"
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youjustgogirl
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Post by youjustgogirl » Fri Sep 10, 2004 3:26 pm

critical tits and the after party was the highlight of my burn this year. i thought the party was VERY well organized, well thought out, and the men working it were definitely KIND. i applaud the organizers, the men, and the women that make this event so beautiful. good on ya all. peace.

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Post by Icepack » Fri Sep 10, 2004 5:09 pm

My camp was along the parade route so I had a front row seat to the event. I was very surprised at how many women were riding. Does anyone have any numbers? How many women actually rode their bikes in Critical Tits? We had one or two riders from our camp, but the rest of us felt like the only women on the playa who weren't in it.

So 200 male volunteers but how many female riders?

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Markov Chaney
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Post by Markov Chaney » Fri Sep 10, 2004 6:04 pm

Thanks cap'n. I'll keep trying.

One of these years I'll get to have the pleasure of contributing to the happiness of 1000s of women.

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captainerotica
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Post by captainerotica » Sat Sep 11, 2004 6:10 am

ICEPACK
we estimate that 2000-3000 women did the ride this year

it might be more than that...we are waiting for our airial photos to arrive!
Chivalry is not Dead ~ It's Co-Ed

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So There I Was, Standing By The Side Of The Road...

Post by Whelp » Sat Sep 11, 2004 11:30 am

As Critical Tits rode by, I found myself standing with a large group of other men. We got some glares from some of the riders, who no doubt thought of us as yahoos. Little did they suspect, not only were we not there to scope them out, their breasts were the LAST thing on our minds.

As it turns out, the practice of "pissing clear" means that when you have to go to the bathroom, you have to go BADLY. Even watching a (seemingly endless) stream of topless women ride by is small consolation when you can't cross the street to get to JotS.

I'd like to congratulate all of the people involved with Critical Tits on the ongoing success of their project. Next year, I hope that I have the foresight to visit the portas BEFORE it happens.

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Post by herpy hancock » Sat Sep 11, 2004 3:01 pm

TITS - need to stay inside -
COCKS- need to stay inside -
all of you stinky naked hippies are
smelling up the playa - -
i say , JUST SAY NO TO TITS and YAHOOS watching TITS!
JUST SAY NO TO SHIRT COCKS
don't you see how ypou contribute to the prob?
In Yo Face!

Lapman
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Great, well organized, big fun, party

Post by Lapman » Sat Sep 11, 2004 4:03 pm

CaptainE-
My brewmaster buddy Don and I were invited by Catnip to bring our rolling red beer bar and serve beer (we brought along 3 gallons of Gin-n-tonix which went in a flash.) After the beer gave out we gave BagBalm hand massages. There is nothing better than BagBalm on playa hands. It was rough being under the main stage but we stuck it out! We had to leave before the party ended and there was no way to roll the bar out so we shut it down in the hopes it would be OK. I came back arout midnight to be sure I had turned off the CO2. Not only had no one messed with anything but all the trash had been cleaned out of the back bar and it looked like someone had wiped down the bar! You guys ROCK! When Don and I got back the next morning we took a few cases of empty Cuervo bottles off your hands as a thanks for the invite (they got recycled). Hope to be back next year with black ties!

The best thing about the event for me are the SMILES!

Great job!

Lapman
Fun's fun, but it sure is quiet when the goldfish dies...

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Post by thedrunkenmonkey » Tue Sep 14, 2004 7:56 pm

You know, honestly, I don't get the concept of Critical Tits.

Or at least the way it was expressed previously. Maybe someone can explain it.

Women riding their bikes through Burning Man as a "celebration of the goddess", yet the name of the ride is "Critical Tits".

Body paint, glorious costumes, wonderful smiles, beautiful people waving and smiling - no cameras, please.

If you don't want to be photographed/seen in the altogether, why ride / walk / hang out topless or bottomless at a 40,000 person event?

I didn't want photos of my cock on the net. Thus, I stayed clothed except for a shower on the Camp DeNile truck.

Am I missing something here?

I might add that responses like, "It's creepy, that's not what it's all about" with no explanation to the spectators of WHAT the ride is all about does no fucking good in getting people NOT to leer and stare and cheer as thousands of topless women ride by on bikes.

Did anyone else note that there was a Critical Dicks ride as well? I stood and cheered for that, as well as the Critical Tits.

You don't get to be exhibitionist and prude at the same time, folks. "Glory in my body, it is of the goddess, but don't look, you perv" is precisely the kind of petty crap I avoid at all costs.

So please, someone explain this to me, so that I can properly display etiquette at the next ride.
BANANAPHONE!

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Post by unjonharley » Tue Sep 14, 2004 8:11 pm

35min. of tits was way to uch when you must pee
I'm the contraptioneer your mother warned you about.

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Alpha
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Post by Alpha » Tue Sep 14, 2004 10:11 pm

My wife rode for the first time this year (after 5 years of being shy) and she enjoyed the ride and party very much, but felt that the party was too crowded with too few voluteer man-servants. On top of that, she saw several creeps sneak their way into the party during the first hour -- understandably difficult to prevent, but it added to her reservations. I'd be happy to volunteer for next year but I see now that you've got a logistics problem on your hands if you're going to grow the party. Good luck and let us know how we can help!

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Post by shaktiqueen » Tue Sep 14, 2004 10:44 pm

"If you don't want to be photographed/seen in the altogether, why ride / walk / hang out topless or bottomless at a 40,000 person event?"


I rode proudly in the parade and had a ton of fun. And I think there is a big difference between looking and taking pictures. I think that if you take a picture of me with out my knowledge or consent and then put it up on the internet or some place that is rude behavior. I rode in the parade because it felt glorious. I didn't mind the people watching...it's a parade, people watch. And most of them were sweet and honoring and made me feel beautiful.....some of the fuckheads who would jump in front of the bikes made me want to bash them with a frying pan....but for the most part it was awesome. That still doesn't mean you can take my picture and do what you want with it.

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Post by thinkcooper » Wed Sep 15, 2004 11:20 am

I might have been one of the creepy men with a camera at the opener for the party.

Me: Mohawk? Check. Gold thong? Check. Decently ripped and tanned for a 47 year old? Check.

Why was i there? To be supportive and celebrate with someone very importnat to me. My beautiful wife, mother of two, terribly self concious of the changes that birth leaves, went topless at CT, first time in over a decade, with beautiful big eyes painted on her by her loving husband. She was ecstatic to be a part of it, and I was very proud to see her participate. I wanted pictures of her doing ice shots and hanging out in the crowd. She wanted them as well. I was yelled at several times only to hear my wife say I was with her and she wanted the pics. Oddly, the womyn that were cheering my wife on when she was bent over doing vanilla stoli and getting her cute little butt wacked weren't told to stop snapping pics even thought they seemed like they were leering as much as a creepy guy might have been. :D Have pictures to prove it if you want to see em... Ah, I didn't care, neither did my wife. we had a great time, and got some great shots.

Sincerely, and truly sorry if my being there bothered anyone. Thank you for tolerating my presence.

Cheers!

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Post by warrior queen » Wed Sep 15, 2004 11:45 am

What a great story thinkcopper!
I rode in the parade for the first time and did see the hypocrisy that some of you are talking about. But I think the overwhelming experience is the story like thinkcopper just described.
I didn't go to the party because it seemed like such a mass of people in a small space and I wasn't sure my energy level was up to dealing with it; so I continued home.
Maybe if there was a larger space to deal with the massive turnout, it would be easier to spot the gawkers but have more space for celebration.

Thanks for putting it together! It was fun and I'd love to know any information on a camp that you were talking about captainerotica!
:P

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first burn, first ride - loved it!

Post by regynalonglank » Wed Sep 15, 2004 6:04 pm

my decision to ride in CT included the decision to perhaps be photographed. if i didn't want my picture potentially taken and then perhaps posted, i wouldn't have ridden. but that's me...i just think it would be hard to control that, and you have to take the risk, it's part of the deal. personally i was fine with the people i saw watching the ride, they all seemed positive and in good spirits, not creepy or wierd, men and women, clothed and topless, some naked in fact, and all screamed when i rode by standing up yelling "make some noise people!" as i slapped hands with the outstretched, accepted the profferred necklaces, avoided running over the foolish, and generally blazed a path forth...to the party which i did not know about - what a fun surprise! i had to leave after two free drinks...had a feeling a third would be a bad idea!!! and it looked like things were going to get way out of control, which i was not ready for, so i headed to home camp for the luau...heard from an old friend, male, who stayed on in his boy slave role (which incidentally i loved, finger foods, calling me goddess...that rocked) and ended up servicing the willing a la eyes wide shut - oh my! i had a blast, as did my camp sisters who also rode. fun, funky event, loved it, keep up the good work sistahs!!!
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skypilot
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rider's hostility

Post by skypilot » Wed Sep 15, 2004 6:30 pm

frankly :? , it suprises me when a totally nude or partly nude woman either walks by or cycles by and stares daggers at you because you look(gawking is different). if it truly bothers you that much, stay clothed-sheeezsh!!!

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Post by geekster » Wed Sep 15, 2004 8:21 pm

thedrunkenmonkey wrote:Women riding their bikes through Burning Man as a "celebration of the goddess", yet the name of the ride is "Critical Tits".
It is kind of a play on San Francisco culture. There is (or at least was when I worked in The City) a bike ride called Critical Mass on the last Friday of each month to draw attention to the rights of people on two wheels. It got pretty "in your face" there for a while with vandalism and angry words on both sides but seems to have chilled these days.
Pabst Blue Ribbon - The beer that made Gerlach famous.

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Post by skypilot » Wed Sep 15, 2004 9:33 pm

:cry: sorry i posted my e-mail address...big mistake. whomever sent that reply to my musings on critical t ride, you'd best be served answering on the forum provided instead of e-mail. my e-mail actually belongs to the department of defense, and should someone send something really vulgar or try to introduce a bug, THEY'LL COME AFTER YOU AND DROP QUITE A BOMB ON YOU, IN OTHER WORDS PROSECUTE. Used to post on the site under my name, chuck sedlacek, and i still am a police officer who works for the department of defense. That having been said, HELLO TREY, HELLO ACTION GIRRRLL- MISS YOU BOTH. stop the whining, now, or put your clothes back on.

skypilot
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Post by skypilot » Wed Sep 15, 2004 9:59 pm

unless you're prepaired to take it all the way, don't get off the boat...think about it, it makes sense.

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Alpha
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Post by Alpha » Thu Sep 16, 2004 7:19 am

Enigmatically, skypilot wrote:unless you're prepaired to take it all the way, don't get off the boat...think about it, it makes sense.
I think it would be better if you would explain that. A woman shouldn't go nude unless what, she's okay with being seen as a piece of meat? she's okay with being grabbed? assaulted?

The fact is that people like going nude for their own reasons, and none of us have the right to assume that it's an invitation for lewd behavior. Sure people are going to look at a beautiful, naked body (I wish more had the desire to look at mine) but there's a limit to the social contract. The oglers and photogs cross that line.

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Post by echohaus » Thu Sep 16, 2004 8:09 pm

This was my first Burn.

As a professional photographer (among other things) with registered equipment, I understood the reasoning behind "no cameras", although I--along with many others, it seems--am very aware of what seems to be mixed signals concerning this.
So, this being my first burn, I was out every day taking pictures. Lots of good stuff to shoot, none of it questionable. I hear about this parade; I decide to check it out, so I stand by the side about halfway between the man and the Esplanade. I realize my camera is not zipped up in its dust bag, so I reach down to close it (and make sure it was off). My camera is pointed down--as in at the playa--and I'm finishing zipping the bag, when I see some ultra-feminist veer purposefully out of the middle of the parade and make a beeline towards me.
She crashed her bike into my leg and screamed at me, then ran off like a chickenshit. It drew blood, and has yet to heal. There is still a bruise.
My wife was livid.

Now, again, I understand the request for "no cameras". I was complying.
But someone, here, didn't take the time to ascertain exactly what was happening, and made a huge assumption, using a violent act to express her displeasure. Seems that she needs something more than a week in the Nevada desert. Her approach and action almost ruined the whole event for me.

We can debate this issue of "mixed signals" all day long, and nothing will be resolved. All I'm asking here, is if you're offended by what you THINK you see, figure out first if what you're seeing is really what is happening; and if it's something that needs to be addressed, try a non-violent approach. Your satisfaction will more than likely still be the same, and no one gets hurt.

Not every man with a camera is a letch, and not every man with a camera is out to take advantage of you, despite whatever motives you have for putting yourself in a position of public display.

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Post by Badger » Thu Sep 16, 2004 9:35 pm

Drunkenmonkey wrote:
You know, honestly, I don't get the concept of Critical Tits.


Yeah, well I used to wonder about it too. Maybe some guys aren’t meant to get it. But ya know, that’s OK.

I have a friend I’ve known for over two decades. We met when my old college roommate and I met up in some obscure town in Oregon where his parents were vacationing for their 40th high school reunion. Chuck and I were bored and seeing as we weren’t part of the Class of ’44 we decided to head out to the local town pub where we met these two women from Vancouver. We had a blast. We made a night of it and Meg and I became fast and furious friends.

We also became <ghast..> pen pals. Over the course of over a decade we called each other, wrote letters and generally kept up on the goings on in each of our lives but we never saw each other face to face until years later. For the first few years of this budding friendship, Meg struggled with alcoholism and addiction and finally she got sober where she remains to this day. She changed her life around in what was for me was an unprecedented example of faith, will and hard , hard work. She became that which almost everyone in her life said she could (or would) never be. She became happy and successful. Meg kept climbing up. Started running marathons, traveling (she had a penchant for visiting the Amazonian rainforests in Brazil), going back to school. In short she had an inner burning to get caught up with a life postponed by her addictions and to fill the hole which her disease had burned into her psyche. However, in spite of extricating herself from the pit she’d been in for much of her life, the one thing that seemed to be missing was a true love – a partner. A man.

Eventually, that too came along. Meg fell in love. She had her man. She was so fucking happy and she relayed this too me often in our letters and phone calls. She loved this guy and just as important she trusted him. I missed her wedding but she continued to relay to me her sense of fulfillment. Her love for this guy really seemed bottomless. I was damn happy for her.

About a year later she called. Despondent and half crazed with grief, she told me that her husband had confided to her that he’d been seeing prostitutes prior to and throughout their marriage. She was at wits end and didn’t where to go or what to do. She only new that she needed to be away from her husband. I had no comforting words for her. No real input. No life experience comparable to what she was going through. This was sometime early August 1997. What I was able to mutter over the phone was something to the effect of “Sounds like you need a break. Maybe get away from the house for a few days.” She agreed. “Well, wanna go camping in the desert – for a week? There’s this...think I think you might wanna check out.” My feeble efforts to explain the Burning were enough to get her committed.

I met her at the Reno airport where she had a small backpack and a suitcase. Despondent and tired, she looked older than she did the first time I met her that summer 13 years before. We drove to Hulupai where the Burn was that year. We pitched camp along with several friends from England, Mexico and the bay area. Throughout the week her demeanor rose a bit but there was still this...palpable, profound sadness that permeated almost every conversation and interaction I had with her. I stepped around the subject of her shattered marriage as though it were a mine field. She never mentioned the betrayal and I never pushed the subject. As a queer man the circumstances were alien enough to me that I felt uncomfortable – incapable – of engaging her on any meaningful level. I had no frame of reference from which to engage and this only seemed to add to her anxiety. I noticed she continually showered throughout the day and did so with a vigor that went beyond the generally mild conditions of the playa that year (she told me a few years later that she was washing the dirt she felt she was carrying from HER failure as a wife) By Friday (Saturday?) our conversation had pretty much devolved into very basic, superficial want-some-water-are-you-hungry type of questions.

Later, she asked if she could borrow my bike for a few hours. She said she wanted to go for a ride with some folks. “No problem.” I answered. “Oh and hey, do you think you could give me a hand painting my body?” My curiosity now piqued “Sure.” I said.

We went into the out communal shelter and I painted her with whatever designs came to mind. She seemed to approve and asked that I pay attention to her tits and vaginal area. I obliged as best I could and at the end of the marking she looked pretty damn festive. A half hour later she was off on the bike.

Not long after, my friend James and I went for a walkabout through the encampment (I don’t remember it being referred to as Black Rock City back then) and not long afterwards there was a roar coming from what I remember was the center of the event. Clapping, howling, cheering men and women jumping up and down and the crowd parting as a wall – a fucking wall - of naked and semi-clothed women on bicycles rolled trough the cacophony of noise. We stopped to look. There before us was a wave of smiling, women just....peddling. Naked. On bicycles. Some with their fists raised high, others looking straight ahead nonplused by the pomp. Others were smiling – grinning - with that shit eating look you remember as a kid when you were doing something new and wild and you didn’t fucking care who saw you. Or who knew you. Moms with naked daughters slathered in sunscreen rolled more cautiously as their little girls waved back to the crowd believing – knowing – that for a moment they were the Center of the Universe.

And then we saw Meg. There she was right in the fucking middle of it. Shoulder length blond hair kissed by the afternoon winds surrounded by her newfound pack of skinny, old, fat, young, black, white, loud and quiet sisters. Never recognizing James or myself she passed us within ten feet of where we stood. The temptation welled in us to yell but as she came closer but we didn’t. In the same instant we saw her absolutely beaming with joy while tears rolled down her cheeks. It was palatable. In a sea of tits she rode. Firm, floppy, small, massive tits...bouncing in a cadence that no guy could ever know or probably understand they continued to ride. And then they passed. The cleaved crowd mingling back so’s to leave no trace of the parted path that existed only moments before.

James and I went back to camp and made drinks for ourselves. Later, Meg rolled into camp. She was beaming. Smiling. Glowing.

“So, how was your ride?” James asked.

Her eyes locked on mine as she started to answer “It was....” and then she started sobbing quietly. Her gaze temporarily lost, she found her focus and locked eyes again ”...amazing. Wonderful. Oh God. Oh My God.” And then it came forth. she let it roll.

“God damn him!

“God damn that selfish prick.”

“God damn him for making ME feel like I’M the dirty one in all of this.” she sobbed. James and I instinctively put our drinks down got up and collectively hugged her as best we could while her body shook and trembled between gasps of air.

Then it rolled out.

Her head tilted back, facing the sky, it came. The scream. A single pitched note that carried all of the anger, the rotting, putrid, septic, self-loathing bile that she’d been carrying ever since the disclosure by her husband came up from her in a primal keening that chilled me. Pierced me. Pierced James. And in a moment it was gone.

“Thank you for bringing me here.” she whispered.

So, maybe this isn't really what Critical Tits is about. Maybe its just a single story I 've relayed about one woman who, on a warm day decided to take a bike ride in the desert seven years ago. What I do know and what I absolutely, passionately believe is that every woman who does Critical Tits has a reason - a story - that many of us will never be privy to. I love seeing it happen. I love recalling the memory and seeing the face of Meg in every smiling woman's face I see as they pass me by each year I've been to Burning Man.

Oh, and BTW, I don't need a camera to capture the memories.
Desert dogs drink deep.

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Sensei
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Post by Sensei » Thu Sep 16, 2004 9:50 pm

And that, boys and girls, is Sensei's "Post of the Day". Hell, I'm just gonna go ahead now and make it the "Post of the Week". Nice work, Badger.

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