I Dreamt of Latex and Punks

This is actually pretty close to
the right dress! But hers had
laces on the side

I dreamt of my ex last night and it made me long for her.  Not my ex the Playboy model but my ex, the fetish queen -- and it made me miss the thriving alternative scene and bondage community in Toronto.

In my dream, we were walking down Queen Street, surrounded by all sorts of pierced punk characters in studded leather, with vibrantly colored green, purple and bright red hair -- and it felt so comfortable and like home.  You see, I used to have a purple mohawk or bright pink dreads with the sides all shaved off so on Queen Street in Toronto surrounded by punks...feel comfortable.

Reminds me of Joanna but this one
looks a bit trash and Italian Gina.

So I was shopping with her, let's call her Macy, and she was dressed in a green latex form fitting dress that looked...damn hot on her.  Macy used to (and probably still does) have the habit of dressing to the nines and looking amazing in fetish-wear.  I will do a google image search for the dress -- and it is not unlikely that the image will actually be her. Anyway, we were just walking around and shopping with her friend, let's call her Joanna who was also wearing latex -- I guess it was just a latexy sort of fall day -- not too hot so you sweat like a swimming pool and not too cold so the sweat freezes.

Inside the real Peach Bezerk

And the store we were shopping in was filled with cool shit everywhere.  From amazing studs and glow in the dark piecing that entwined with each other to a variety of one off clothing that was pretty much only available in this store.  The whole store was pink too -- which reminds my waking self of Kingi's store...what was that called again? Peach Bezerk? I wonder if that's still running? To the GOOGLE! Apparently yes.

So yeah, this dream was just a shopping and lazily walking around Queen Street, surrounded by people from the BDSM community and punks -- and it makes me wonder what I am doing in this smaller town where I blend in mostly because I conceal my inner freak. Well that,  and most of the 'fetish people' here are so lame it brings tears to my eyes.  There is little choice but to import talent and train the TNG folks as corrupting the youth should really be my priority

The point was, the store was filled with 'my people' and interesting folks. punks, and people just hanging on the street smoking before heading back into some dingy club like the Bovine Sex Club, the Horsehoe or ...for the amount of money I spent on cheap beer there I should totally remember it's name! Damn,  it was a little hole in the wall with a great backyard patio and frequented by hippies and punks and BunchofFuckingGoofs who annoyed me nightly and clashed with my anarchist friends who had far more style and political resolve.

My Kryptonite

And then as we went outside, I saw my kryptonite... a hot punk girl with a mohawk <3   She wasn't wearing a plaid kilt but that was about the only improvement I could make.  A fiery political activist with sick home made patches all over her hoodie  -- I just punk as fuck. I wanted her big time. My god, when's the last time I saw any girl with a mohawk in this dingy little town? The locals would probably die of shock or rush to her aid and attempt to immediately convert her to Christianity. :/  But I have always had a fetish for girls hardcore enough to get a hawk because that is fucking awesome. And soooo pretty! I know I'm in the minority here, but I can't help it if other guys can't appreciate the best thing that happened to punk girls ever.  I dunno, maybe it is just me externalizing and missing my own mohawk.

And then I woke up :'(  I miss Toronto and interesting people.