Matisse has a new podcast up. In this episode we talk about poly and the dangers of comparing partners as well as I go on a rant about folks "assuming" things about my dearest partner Tambo. It is a prime rant too for fans who like it when I unhinge :)

I have on my to do list to set up a new recording session soon so if you have questions we can answer for you send us an email.

My darling wife of 20+ years, Tambo does not make many appearances on this blog. While the greatest, most supportive wife in history she much prefers to stay behind the camera and in shadows. Happy to watch, support and offer her own devious twist on my various mis-adventures.

Now when she is persuaded to step in front of the camera, like she did here at SEAF, the result is a treat (for both you and me).

Is she not just stunning? Yeah, I know. I'm the luckiest SOB on earth. Thanks Malixe for capturing the radiance that is my dearest wife.

It was 20 years ago today, Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play...


Hard to believe it, 20 years ago, a mere 10 days after my 18th birthday, this picture was taken. Tambo and I were married on this day, in 1988. As you can tell from my mullet and fashion choices, we were very much children of the 80's too. And children we were, so young and baby faced.. so full of hope and wonder at what would come next. Hard to imagine that those two kids would one day grow up to be us, or that we were once them. A lot has happened in the past two decades, so many changes and through it all we managed to stay together and more importantly stay in love and happy together.

What is our secret you ask? I wish I could give you a magic bullet for long term happiness, but when asked we tend to look at each other and sorta shrug and say "I dunno?" Call it equal parts luck, tenacity and the understanding that no matter how much we change and evolve as the years go by that in the end, she is my closest friend, ally and confidant. That no mater what the days may bring, we know that when the chips are down we can always count on the other.

So tomorrow is a very big day for Tambo and I. Now while I spend some time and creative energy writing about why tomorrow is so cool I should give you some backstory. This post is one of my all time favorites, the tale of how I met and started dating my dearest, most awesome wife. Originally Posted Monday, April 26 2004

Chapter 27: The tale of how I met my wife.

It never seems to fail. Once I get talking to someone for awhile, they always ask the same question.
“So, how long have you and your wife been together?”
To which I reply casually, “oh about 20 years now”
This is usually met with a stunned pause, a few blinks and disbelief.
“No way, you’re like what… 30? 35? What did you do meet in Jr. High?!”
“33 actually and no we met when I was a freshman in high school”

That is right dear readers. I met her when I was a nerdy young freshman, while riding the school bus no less. Ahh, the school bus, or as we used to call it, “The Looser Cruiser”, that dull yellow tool of social order. You remember the rules, stoners sat in the way back cool kids sat middle while the nerds sat in the very front. Your whole social standing was determined by how far back from the driver you sat. Oh and if you got to sit in that extra narrow seat, WAY in the back, you know the one I’m talking about, then you were the most bad ass of them all.

Me? Being the drama nerd that I was, I sat somewhere between the exchange students and the kid who wore the helmet.

One day as I sat on the bus, reading the graffiti on the back of the seat and wondering what halfway house the driver escaped from, she climbed up the bus’s stairs.

Sure I could say something about how the clouds opened up and a singe ray of golden sunlight poured down on her and how a chorus of angels began to sing…or how my jeans became suddenly very tight in the crotch. Simply put, she was amazing. Brilliant, talented and oh my god so beautiful the kind of girl that yearbooks name “most talented” or “Most likely to succeed”. I had seen her before. She was involved in everything, music mostly but she also did honors this and advanced placement that. Rumor had it that she was hand picked to play pro for the symphony next year.

Along with the usual school books and bags, she also lugged her cello. Now for those of you who don’t know it, a cello case is roughly the same size as a small person. Not exactly something that will fit neatly into the overhead compartment or under a seat. Unable to share a seat, she scanned the bus for an open spot for her and her large burden.

As destiny would have it, the seat in front of me was vacant.

Too awe struck to speak; I just sat there and admired her. For a girl so talented and so with it, she gave off an air of sweetness. Un-phased by the trends of the day, she had her own style. Part geek, part art chick yet all the time very centered and very real. As her stop came I managed an awkward “bye”, to which she smiled the kind of smile so warm you wish that you could bask in it like a cat on a summer day. I was smitten.

But how was I, a lowly freshman, ever going to have a chance with such a girl? I needed a plan.

I knew that she only rode the bus home from school, never to school. I knew that she had to take her cello home when ever she did ride the bus. I knew that due to the instrument’s size, she could not share a seat with anyone and had to sit in an open spot. And so I hatched my plan.

Everyday after the final bell rung, I raced down to the busses carry out my plan. Like a grand chess master laying out his pieces, I found the sweet spot. That seat not too far from the front yet always guaranteed to have an open seat in front or behind me. She would have to sit next to me again.

I did this for an entire school year.

It did not always work, some days she stayed late, other days she would find a different spot. But when it did work, oh my, what a great bus ride that was. We started with small talk, compared notes about the play we were both in (her in the orchestra and me in the chorus line), Monty Python, Mtv and so on. Eventually I did not have to dash to find the sweet spot. If she beat me to the bus, I would find her in our usual spot smiling and waiting for me.

It took me another year to build up the courage to ask her on a date, but that is another story.


After nearly 20 years her smile still makes me weak.

A funny thing happened on the way to the hard point last night…

It was Sunday night, the first Sunday of the month in fact. Time once again for the “Bondage is the Point” party, an event that Tambo and I have had a standing date together for the last, oh I dunno 4 years I think? We always look forward to this party, in addition to getting to see a lot of our friends, this is one event that no matter how insanely busy our lives get, we always can look forward to playing at the party. Be it elaborate or simple it matters not, just as long as it is with my Tambo it is all good.

But I digress, we had just entered the party and started saying hello to friends when an acquaintance we had not seen in several months all but leapt into our arms and exclaimed, “I am SO glad to see that you are here… TOGETHER!”
Tambo and I responded with odd looks at each other and pressed her to explain.
Seems that she at a recent event she was told that Tambo and I had gotten a divorce, not “were in the process of” or even “Were having some issues” but full on “Oh no, they divorced awhile back”

In light of the fact that Tambo and I will be celebrating our 20th wedding anniversary in a few weeks made this news both humorous and a little disturbing.


Living in the public eye as I do, you get pretty accustomed to rumors, lordy there have been some great ones in the past too. My favorite has to be the one where I supposedly sold the company for some obscene pile of cash and was moving to Europe to join of those infamous “Secret European SM Houses” as the resident rope master. Seriously, where folks come up with some of these are just beyond me. Also, being poly can be pretty confusing for some. Writing about the adventures I have with one of my partners does not mean that I’m not having any with my other. Some adventures are public and I share them here, some are not. Plain and simple.

So consider this a public service announcement. If I don’t say it here, then it is probably not true. And as for my childhood sweetheart Tambo and I? 20 years this month, I figure if she has not stuffed me into a wood chipper by now, she must either really love me or she has yet to find one big enough.

You asked for it! Basic Head Bondage How To Now on YouTube


I've literally gotten hundreds of requests for a video on how to tie head bondage, the best practitioner of it would have to be my wife Tambo. So she and Alex present to you a quick, easy to follow how to video that will get you started with this very intimate and connective form of bondage right.

Curious for to try it yourself? Check out our Exotic White Linen Hemp. It is the rope we use in the video and my personal favorite for this sort of bondage.

My Tambo, super nerd.

Some dear friends of our hosted a very special movie night. Seems some of our close friends had yet to see the epic zombie-romantic-comedy that is "Shaun of the Dead" In honor of this event, Tambo just had to make cookies. Specifically, gingerbread zombies. Complete with exposed brains and cricket bats.


Ain't she just grand?

Speaking of nerding out, tonight after I finish all my chores at the Abbey, we are going to take in that new sc-fi flick, "Doomsday". Now this looks like some fun, written and directed by the guy who did the brilliant, "Dog Solders" (like seriously, this is one of the best werewolf films ever made) and staring Malcom Macdowell (who is quite possibly the greatest cinematic whore since Tim Curry. I swear this guy would star in a tampon commercial if you paid him enough). How can you go wrong? Oh and there are hot chicks fighting with swords too. We are talking a cinematic masterpiece in the making here folks.

Best part? Tambo and I will be whooping and laughing our asses off though it and will only be disappointed if there are any attempts at social relevance or "messages" in the film. Commence with the big ass fireballs and half naked post apocalyptic warrior maidens!

2 Questions , One Story

“Why do you include shears with your kits? I won’t need them.”
“Why don’t you always finish your ends with knots? Isn’t that the traditional way?”

About once a week, with out fail, I get a variant of these two questions. I can answer both of them with one story.

A few years back Tambo and I were playing at a house party. At the time it seemed like forever since we last played, must have been in the run up to a big show, so I wanted to do something different for her. Rather than the spinning and giggle fest that is our suspension play, the plan was to take advantage of a cool bondage chair tucked in the corner of the space.

I am hard on my rope and like any responsible top, I make a point to replace my worn pieces before they fail. That morning I cut myself a new rope kit, too backlogged from whipping customer orders, these ends were still unwhipped. Instead, I opted for small, tight overhand knots at the end. Not my desired end, but for many this is the “traditional” and only way hemp rope ends should be finished.

Things started off wonderfully as I began wrapping rope around her and the body of the chair so that she was firmly affixed in place. In between giggles and low moans my Tambo, the ever responsible and good bottom, was sure to communicate with me as to the state of her well being, where the ropes were pinching and what might need shifting. We spoke in soft, loving tones to each other as I worked, both reveling in the warm and intimate cocoon that is often the hallmark of good SM play.

Then, as if a light switch was flipped, it all started to go suddenly wrong.

Tambo, even in the toughest bondage situations, can always give me a “two minute warning” when she’s nearing her limit and I need to start bringing her back down to earth. This time all I got was, “I think I’m gonna….”

Then she went slack. Pale and limp, her body starts to list to one side and pull hard against the ropes holding her in place.

The first thing to do in these situations is to not panic. I quickly start to untie the major pieces of bondage holding her to the chair so that I can get her on the floor and back among the conscious. I pull rope for what seems like an eternity, in truth it was probably a few seconds, till I’m down to the last wrap of rope when it happened.

The knots on the end of my rope jammed.

Franticly reaching around her slack body I could feel where they were wedged against the other ropes. Her shifting form locking them in place, turning the bondage into a tangled, mangled mass. A few seconds of tugging might make them come free, might being the operative term, but when it comes to your love even a few seconds is too long.
“fuck this” I mutter and pull the shears from their holster and start cutting. I reduce several hundred dollars of rope to scrap in a matter of seconds. No sooner is she down on the floor when she looks up at me with that sudden, embarrassed look of, “I didn’t just do what I think I did?”

That was the scariest minute of my life. Why do I give shears away with every kit? Because I pray to the gods that my customers never have to experience the terror of seeing their love go slack and not have the tools on hand to get them out. Already have a pair? Then give the set I send you to that new couple just starting out and tell them this story.

To those “traditionalists” who turn their noses up at the whipped ends of my rope (you laugh, but it actually happened to one of my customers in the UK) I say a big, hearty “fuck you”. I’d rather my customers be safe and come back for more than ever be “traditional”.

My Tambo, power nerd

I love that my wife is a video game playing, super hero loving, sci-fi movie watching and all around sexy nerd. What can I say, brains are sexy. Geeky, smart girls like my Tambo who are one in a million. Now as you may recall, for her birthday last month I gave my dearest wife a new x-box360 and a copy of the much anticipated Guitar Hero 3.* Well in the scant few weeks since that day she has played the hell out of the game. Smoking me and the nearest competition with her mad button mashing and head banging skills. Last night she happily informed me that not only has she beaten the game, twice as a solo artist (easy and medium mode) she’s won it in co-op and holds a 5 star rank on EVERY song offered. Her next conquest, she tells me with a determined nod, will be to either beat the game at “Expert” or attempt to play it again left handed (ala Jimi Hendrix)

Something tells me that I need to start putting some cash aside and find her a copy of Rock Band and quick.

*an amusing aside, the game was to be released at midnight Saturday the 27th. We also had a play date that night. So after taking her out, hanging her from the ceiling and doing all manner of devilish things to her sweet body, we packed up and dashed across town so that we might catch the tail end of the midnight release party and score her pre-ordered copy. Then she went home and proceeded to play till 3 am while covered in fresh rope marks!

Bark at the moon!

Tambo, proving yet again that she is the most awesome partner in the universe, scored us tickets to the Rob Zombie / Ozzy show that went down last night. Not just tickets, but 10th row VIP passes.

My metal-head maiden, she's the best.

I once had the chance to see Ozzy when he came through Spokane way back on the "Diary of a Madman" tour. I'm thinking I should have seen him then. While he was pretty spry for an old guy who has cooked most of his brain away. He bounced around (as best he could) and waved his hands with this odd sort of joy. Sorta resembled a cross between a special Olympics kid and a deranged Muppet. Still the guy could put on one hell of a show.

Zombie? oh I love me some Rob Zombie. Seen him now like 3 times? A big, garish carnival of gore, sex and grinding guitars. Like watching old monster movies while taking acid and having deviant sex with a team of Roller Derby girls. W00T!

Tambo and Monk’s first dinner date

I’m cooking a surprise dinner for Tambo right now and while the salmon grills I’m reminded of a really awful story. Well not awful, more embarrassing really. So way back in the very, very early days of Tambo and my dating adventure, we are talking just say of the Mesozoic era here kids, I invited her over for “3 course meal prepared by me”. Now mind you, Tambo and I stared dating when I was fourteen and I really did not know my way around the kitchen all that well. Sure, I could make one hell of a pancake but I had yet to realize the full potential of pancakes… but I digress.

So on the appointed night, I set the dining room table with my mom’s best china. She arrived right on time and I ushered her into the candle lit dining room. Blindfolded, she sat waiting for the surprise meal that I had prepared in her honor. The surprise being that the meal was in fact a pair of hungry man TV dinners. Did I mention that my sense of humor back in those days was a bit, shall we say unrefined? Yes, it did occur to me, just as I was about to remove her blindfold and reveal the steaming aluminum tray of pre-made Salisbury steak that perhaps she might not think this as funny as I.

On the contrary, she let out one of her trademark squeals of laughter and announced, “Dude! I have not had one of these in years! My mom used to make them for me all the time!”

Disaster averted and proof once again that my wife is, in fact, the coolest girl in the world.

What, it is Friday already?!

Where the hell did this week go? Too many late nights and too many deadlines this week makes for one tired and uncreative Monk. Yes, Hannah I will answer your interview questions soon.

Couple of items, August's color of the month will be released on the 10th. (Yes, my birthday)

I may need a helper body at the Summer Flea on the 18th. This will be an all day gig, interested parties should email me for more info.

Oh and go see the movie Sunshine. Freaking amazing film. As we always do, Tambo and I were lost in discussion about the movie. While we both loved it we could not agree on "what makes a good sci-fi film?" Since the director, Danny Boyle, also made the amazing 28 Days Later I argued as such. If a really good zombie film is not about the monsters outside, but rather what the monsters the survivors eventually become. Then a science fiction film is less about the thing the humans are exploring, but rather how frail and alone humanity really is when facing the vast, harsh and unforgiving nothing that is space.

One more thing. Last night while enjoying some late night pizza with Matisse at one of our favorite haunts, we heard the most amazing song that we must have. A German death metal cover of the Macarena. Too sureal for words... must have!

Millions of peaches, peaches for me…

I should write about the lunch I had with a beautiful woman and how she edged the hem of her sundress up her long, tan thighs as we sat in the sun talking. I should talk about prep work we are doing for Boston and how behind we are (as usual) for this one. Or perhaps post some photos of this month’s color of the month in action so you can see how cool the dark blue looks against skin and convince you to snap up the last few pieces before it is all gone.

But I’m not. Why? Because last night I sat on the couch and read.

Why is that so blog worthy? Simple, last night as I sat upon one end of the couch, nose planted in the new Harry Potter book (yes I am hooked too), Tambo as at the other end reading as well. Our massive gray/black lion of a cat lay across our co-mingled feet like a great purring foot warmer. There we sat for hours, happy to just be together. The only thing to break this spell of simple tranquility would be the fresh peach cobbler, hot out of the oven, topped with really good French vanilla ice cream.

When Tambo I first started dating some 22 years ago, my mother told me. “The root of the word ‘girlfriend’ is ‘friend’. Passion wanes and desires can change, but a friend will be there long after.”

And there we sat, my favorite person in the world and I, just enjoying the fact that we there. Together.

It has been ages since I posted a recipe, but here goes.
Monk’s favorite peach cobbler recipe:
1 c Bisquick
1 c Milk
1 c Sugar
1 Stick Margarine
1 lg Can Peaches-in Light Syrup/ or 3 large fresh peaches

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Melt the margarine in the (13"x9") pan. Mix the milk, sugar and Bisquick together in a bowl. Pour into the melted margarine.
Pour off half the syrup from the peaches. Spread the peaches with the remaining syrup on top of the batter. Bake 45 minutes. Serve warm.
Yields 1 13"x9" Pan

Tambo and I love movies. Escaping the real world and hiding out in a darkened theater is just about the perfect way to spend a rainy (or sweltering) Seattle afternoon. Especially if you are supposed to be at work. We do however have different tastes when it comes to film. Normally we swap as to who gets to pick the movie, but in light of the pre-shibaricon deathmarch and me being generally a walking rope making machine for the past 6 weeks, I’ve been indulging her every cinematic whim.

Ouch, the things we do for the people we love.

Let me recap, Pirates of the Caribbean 3? Sucked ass through a straw. Too many characters, too much cgi and a plot that felt like every morning the director would come onto the set and wave about a napkin covered in crayon scribbles and announce that this was to be the day’s new shooting script.

Spiderman 3? Ouch. I love the director Sam Rami. Really I do. I think the man is a visual genius and have loved his work since Evil Dead (I even supported him when he did For The Love of the Game, thank you) but damn, dude what happened? Your visual flair looks like it was swiped off a Playstation? And Venom? Oh man, don’t get me started… I don’t even like the Spiderman mythology that much and I’m offended.

I think her next pick will be The Transformers movie… shudder. (To her defense she does pick some great ones too, but she has a weak spot for the summer blockbuster)

If nothing else, even a bad movie with someone you love is time well spent. We usually spend at least the length of the film having a fantastic time trashing it over coffee afterwards.

I keep telling my lovely wife Tambo that she is a better rope top than I

Here is proof. Where I’m happy to tie someone into a ball and toss him or her about the room, she is so very mindful and precise. When she is doing head and face bondage, she becomes so graceful. It is quite beautiful to watch.

These shots were taken during Michele and Delano’s last visit to Seattle. One of the things that really strikes me is that this image was taken not 24 hours after Michele shot Alex and I. She also shot Puck not an hour before too, all part of a 24 hour shooting marathon. What just amazes me that the tools used in all these shots are the same.

Rope.

Same photographer, same basic lighting setup, same basic premise (two people interacting via rope) yet such different outcomes.


Fascinating.


OK, must get back to work. For those keeping the death-march score, yesterday I consumed over 7 shots of espresso in an 16-hour period. Today is a short one, only 11 hours in the shop for me.