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10 Journal Entries from 2025 on Sex, Love, Improv Crushes, & ChatGPT

Kate Sloan
Journals from 2025! As ever, my faves are large hardcover ruled Moleskine notebooks, which I’ve been using since 2007 (!!).

Yep, I’m doing a Girly Juice throwback post and sharing 10 of my actual journal entries from my actual journals this year… Here’s some juicy stuff about my sex life, love life, romantic philosophies, creative adventures, etc. in 2025!

March 11th

One of the ways I know these [musical improv] classes actually WORK is that I literally didn’t feel nervous at all for the entire show tonight. At no point was I less than certain that I could make something up in the moment. That’s so fucking crazy, considering that I was pretty damn nervous for my first beginner CLASS, let alone the showcase. I felt in control tonight. I felt like there was time to think of what I wanted to sing next and how to sing it. Whatever neural re-wiring happens when you start to practice improv regularly, it literally changes the way you experience the passage of time.

The things giving me the most joy and comfort in these bleak times all have to do with creativity and connection. Part of me still doubts as to whether I “deserve” to or “should” spend time, energy and money on these classes. But they feel like church and the gym and high school and university all rolled into one; they feel like where I go to be my bravest, best, most open self; they feel like a direct pipeline into connection, fun and laughter with people who somehow just understand me, despite barely knowing me, because we share this passionate, goofy interest in making up songs together on stage.

May 3rd

In any case, this feels notable: When I think about what I would do if I found out that I had [a terminal disease], the things that immediately come to mind are that I would sign up for as many musical improv classes/troupes as possible (and probably even some non-musical ones) and I would tell all my crushes that I think they’re cute, because WHO CARES.

I would also want to organize a concert where I could play all my favorite songs of mine and/or have my loved ones cover songs of mine. I would dress weird every day, unless I didn’t feel like it. I would go see comedy and theatre and live music any nights I was free. I would haunt Civil Liberties (…meant that in the alive-haunt way, but also it would be fun to dead-haunt Civ Lib too). Might give some money to Rosedale if I had any. Or for CB Pro scholarships. And I’d kiss as many cuties as I felt like (with their consent, of course) and masturbate and have sex up until I couldn’t anymore, and still try to find pleasures even after that. Cura te libitum; memento mori. Both.

May 17th

…Anyway, idk idk idk, but it kinda seems like my improv crushes might be into me, which is CRAZY. It really speaks to the way that this art form makes me into my best self. I remember the wild sense of transformation around grade 10-11 when Rosedale helped me come out of my shell in a big way, and how it suddenly seemed that everyone and their mother was attracted to me and was secretly confessing their limerence via Honesty Box or broadcasting it with their big gushy eyes. It was not just that so many people were into me, but that I could see/tell and usually even BELIEVE they were into me. I was so regularly and deeply in touch with the best and most attractive aspects of my me-ness (not to be confused with “penis”) that it seemed plausible that folks could like me. I liked myself. Hell, I finally WAS myself, period, and not an amalgamation of all the shy-meek-sweet-good-girl things I had terrifiedly striven to be until then.

I feel similarly now, like I have rediscovered the parts of myself I like most and am wearing those parts on the surface of my skin every day like glitter body paint. It’s interesting that so much of improv training is about learning to “get out of your own way” mentally – which I largely take to mean, reduce your anxiety/self-criticism/self-censorship to a point that your improv flows directly from your weird brain and is thus more organic and just better overall – and I am feeling similarly about my own attractiveness-or-lack-thereof lately, in that I actually MAKE myself less hot and more invisible when I let myself act like an anxious shy little kid in the corner – whereas, even though I have the same face and body (well, more or less) as the times when I act more confident and gregarious, people respond to me TOTALLY differently in those two states.

I used to think it was like, if maybe 20% of the population would find me attractive based on my looks alone, then maybe another 5-10% might start to find me attractive as they got to know my personality. But I think it’s significantly more than that, actually, especially the older we get. Conventional physical hotness fades, and also it just isn’t enduringly interesting (at least not to me). I want to know if we can make each other laugh until 3 a.m.

May 30th

Kind of beautiful to show up in a new setting as the best, brightest, most new-and-improved version of yourself, and to get to be witnessed and noticed and liked by someone who is similarly in their newest and most exciting form yet, and you see each other the way you each most yearn to be seen, which just adds to the eroticism and safety of the connection, and you’re both obsessed with and committed to this shared crazy art form which cleansed you both alive again from the inside out, and the wonderment and gratitude you both carry about that still burns within you and sometimes gets messily (but not inaccurately) aimed at each other, and you are exploring a body that’s new to you from WITHIN a body that’s new to you, and you are still learning to pilot a brain drunk on dopamine fumes, and you carry middle school like concrete in your bones and high school like glitter in your blood, and you know how you used to kiss and you know how you want to kiss now, and you know how you used to fuck and you think you know how you want to fuck now, and having a crush in your improv class is like finding a diamond tiara mixed into your lottery winnings: you quite literally cannot believe your luck, and you didn’t know this was a possibility, because why dream of delights beyond those that already saved your life?

Incase you were wondering, my current favorite pens for journaling are Pilot Precise V7 rollerballs and Beiwo 0.5mm gel pens.

October 8th

Strange to fly away from Toronto feeling sad to be away from improv friends and my mom for 10 days, as if that were my “real” life, only to be welcomed open-armed by New York City once again… [Most] pressingly to me currently is the date I went on last night with the person I refer to by the moniker “hot they/them Q___” when talking to mb about them. They are this devastatingly hot nonbinary heartthrob from L.A. who is a long-time listener of The Dildorks and a big D&D nerd… They were wearing a red velvet/corduroy blazer that they’d just gotten recently for a friend’s wedding, and I was in a red dress (also incidentally bought for a wedding), so we matched, which I remarked on: “We look cute together!”

We had good conversations for hours, about all kinds of nerdy shit – Mel Brooks, the Adventure Zone, comics, musical improv, etc. They were touching my leg a lot under the table (and earlier at the bar, stepping closer to me every so often) and I suspected it was starting to make me wet – which honestly has been hard for me lately… [Some experiences] had made me feel so enduringly “meh” about the prospect of sex with anyone other than mb. It just didn’t seem appealing/exciting/like it would be any good. But this self-described dom and top (as per when they filled out my Date Me form about a year ago) was touching me under the table and it was turning me on.

Eventually I asked if we should find somewhere to go make out… [Then, outside on the sidewalk] they suddenly stopped, shoved me against a wall, and kissed me right there. Once again, I felt myself getting so turned on. It really is strange how much self-doubt/impostor syndrome I still feel about being a bottomy submissive, as if it’s a fake identity that just disguises fundamental sexual selfishness/laziness or something, but it is laughably obvious how submissive I am when the ways doms kiss me, touch me and talk to me make me so goddamn wet.

Anyway, they were a really good kisser. Like I was moaning and melting and sighing and starting to drop into subspace already… [Later they fingered me and] they gave me a lot of pleasure and made me feel a lot of things… Then they sucked their fingers clean and said, re: my flavor, “I’ve been wondering about that for a while,” which made me blush harder than I’ve blushed on any date in a long time. I asked them if they’d maybe wanna leave a mark on me, which is like… pretty damn romantic, from my perspective. They said they would’ve liked to bite my ass, but in the position and location we were in, it was easier for them to just bite my neck where it meets the shoulder, one of my favorite spots. (OMG, I am getting wet as I’m writing this!! Yikes!) They gave me a mark that I love, a wine-dark hickey right in the spot where my bag strap sits, so I was reminded of them for much of today.

Then they walked me to the subway, holding my hand for some of that time and guiding me with their hand around my waist for some of it, as I teetered in and out of subspace. I felt really taken care of and safe. Never once did I get that cold stab of adrenaline like “Oh god, I’m in a compromised state, alone, with a stranger.” I just wanted to stay longer, to keep kissing them, but I was getting tired. So eventually we just made out in front of the subway like horny teenagers. It was really kind of wild. It is so rare that I feel this kind of attraction for someone these days. And it wasn’t just sexual but romantic too. I felt close to them and it felt safe to open up and let my walls down, which has been so hard for me lately. I felt nervous and starry-eyed on the subway home, and the whole next day, feeling (as I sometimes do after an important first time with a new person) that somehow my body was all new, renewed, remade afresh by the experience. Like my own body felt unfamiliar to me because it had been transformed by the way they touched it, the way they wanted it. Oh god. I might be in trouble, huh.

October 9th

Oh hi, it’s me again, the pain slut who gets fingered on park benches. I am crush-brain garbage today and yesterday, meaning I felt hassled and haunted by my own intrusive romantic fantasies. It’s tough sometimes being both a chronic romanticizer who aims to find delight wherever and whenever possible, and a pragmatic bitch with a kintsugi‘ed heart who believes it’s a dumb waste of time to fixate on, as one random example, a nerdy nonbinary heartthrob who lives across a continent from me.

I mean, both can be true. It can be dumb and potentially painful while also being fun and worth doing, like drinking too hard on a school night at your buddy’s going-away party, or dancing for 3 hours at a wedding even though you have fibromyalgia. There is no “right way” that things are “supposed” to go. I can have a big dumb long-distance crush if I want to, dammit!

November 26th

Me: Just really wanting you to leave so many painful marks all over me and fuck the shit out of me but in a romantic n cute way, ya know
Them: Oh absolutely. brutally but romantically
Me: I want that so bad 🙁
Them: Meeeee toooo

Thinking a lot lately about what “romantic sex” even is to me, because it sure ain’t vanilla missionary in the dark or what [my dommy ex-boyfriend] F___ referred to as “slow stuff & eye-looking,” and yet some of that stuff is at least somewhat appealing with the right person…

I think to me, romantic sex is sex where you both bare some of your soul by pursuing and reacting to the things you authentically desire with each other… sex where you feel absorbed/immersed in sensation and connection and it gets you out of your own head and into someone else’s… sex where you feel strong sensations both physically and emotionally and it feels safe and celebrated for you to feel those feelings… sex where you feel able to truly be yourself (or at least a significant part of yourself), and you know you are not judged or disliked for that but in fact desired for it… sex where your partner seems focused on your pleasure not just because they find it hot but also because they think you deserve a more pleasurable existence because of who you are as a human being… sex where trust acts as an aphrodisiac… sex where effort is a currency of caring… sex where you are both on the same page about what it means and what it feels like… sex without the need to censor yourself, your desires, or your reactions… sex that feels deeply informed by the non-sexual knowledge you have about each other… sex that feels like a shared playspace where your souls can touch and merge for a time… sex that encourages play, fun, and getting what you really, really want… sex that feels like a great conversation… sex that helps you remember you deserve pleasure and are hot… sex that is intentionally scheduled, skilfully practiced, and consistently prioritized… sex that scares you a little with the heights it takes you to… sex that leaves you wanting to say “I love you” when the pleasure overflows out your mouth.

Gotta put stickers on the back covers too! My favorite one here is the Pokémon-inspired one from Namesake.

December 9th

I put up a carefully crafted but admittedly lengthy personal ad on the [redacted] subreddit, honestly probably because all these sweet polite shy Canadian monogamous boys are making me feel frustrated, lol. I think I got about 20 responses, with maybe 5-8 being so short/low-effort that I deleted them immediately, 4-5 being decent but not compatible with me in some key way (e.g. they’re not dominant, or they really want me to sit on their face – I am seeking the pillow princess treatment in this case!), 3-5 being good enough that I’d consider messaging back (and I did message some back)… and the remainder were very obviously ChatGPT-generated, at least partially if not in full.

What is UP with men and outsourcing delicate, intimate human connection to a fucking LLM! It makes me blindingly angry! Part of me feels compassion for their struggle, especially the neurodivergent ones, because men really don’t have social skills drilled into them from birth in the same ways… I would understand if they wanted to consult the robot for advice on how to approach a particular piece of tricky communiqué (and I have even done that myself before), but to copy-&-paste the hollow words of a text generator into your texting app and hit ‘send’… I don’t know how they live with themselves. If you’re that desperate to avoid human connection, why are you nonetheless play-acting at pursuing it?

Some women would vehemently argue that the reason is simple: men only want sex from women, and will do everything they can think of in service of that goal, including lying, misrepresenting themselves, and even stupider shit like expecting women to be too dumb to notice these men are not nearly as articulate or sensitive IRL as they are in their suspiciously verbose messages. I don’t think I believe that the average man is that simple-minded and singularly focused, however. I am of the controversial opinion that men have feelings, longings, and needs in relationships which go beyond the sexual, and that sex is often at least partially the outlet and analogue for their deeper emotional desire for connection and closeness. But one also wonders why these men are constantly shooting themselves in the foot by refusing to learn basic conversational skills and lazily allowing a famously shitty robot to pick up their slack, which it doesn’t do believably or well.

December 15th

I’m low-key disappointed that I probably won’t get to make out with any of my comedy crushes before I leave, because it’s honestly a demisexual’s wet dream to suddenly/finally get sexual with someone you’ve done one zillion improv shows with. Like, I’m hard-pressed to come up with something I’d find hotter and more exciting, both emotionally and sexually. They’ve seen your most embarrassing blunders and your most thunderous successes. They’ve co-created silly art with you night after night, both contributing in total earnestness to this shared ship we all sail together. They’ve seen you when you get dolled up and when you’re just bumming around. They know what makes you laugh and maybe even what makes you scream. They still like you even though they’ve seen you laugh so hard you snort.

To then add the layer on top of that that they additionally want to kiss you, that they have indeed broached that line despite it being unprecedented in your connection, despite the fear that you’ll mess up this thing you really value… It’s just such a sexy proposition to me. There haven’t been many times in my life when someone kissed me for the first time AFTER they already knew me decently well, knew me enough to know they really liked me and wanted me, specifically me. It’s such a hot and validating thought.

And it doesn’t hurt that I’m sure some anxiety and dissociation would be prevented by doing these things with someone you already feel safe with, someone you can relax around, someone your body has a lot of practice feeling relaxed around. I wonder if the kissing would accordingly feel different temporally, in the way that improv scenes seem to give you more time to think of your next line the more that you practice, because your bloodstream is no longer pumping with breakneck adrenaline every time you step on stage. Would kissing T___ or C___ have a certain naturalistic slowness to it, unlike the frantic and forgettable nervous-AF kisses I’ve had on first dates etc.? Would I have time and space, mentally, to marvel at who I was kissing – perhaps even to smile and laugh about it together? Would that laughter be sexy in its own way because it’s an expression of intimacy, of both being simultaneously shocked and delighted by the same thing, almost like the intimacy of watching (or doing) a great improv scene together?

December 20th

Current baseline requirements for a romantic partner:

  • Treats me well and respectfully, always.
  • We make each other laugh a lot.
  • Asks me questions, is intrinsically curious about me, and inspires that same type of curiosity in me. Can carry a conversation.
  • Feminist, leftist, vehemently pro-LGBTQ+ rights.
  • Kinky, communicative about sex, into a lot of the same things I’m into, entirely chill about sex toys and period sex and sometimes having non-penetrative sex.
  • Nerdy and enthusiastic.
  • A good flirt. Makes me feel liked and desired.
  • We share an undeniable mutual attraction on every level that matters to us.
  • Good manners, good hygiene, basic life skills.
  • Smart enough to keep up with me.
  • Polyamory-competent, emotionally intelligent, and in therapy if they need to be.
  • Entirely chill about my line of work, including being written/talked about publicly (anonymized is fine).
  • Creative-minded and interested in the arts.

Part of me thinks these requirements are too stringent. Another part of me thinks they’re not stringent enough.

Behind the Seams: The Last One in Toronto!

Kate Sloan
L and R photos by Sarah

June 7th, 2025

My friend Dan is a karaoke fiend (as am I), but our go-to joint was no longer doing karaoke nights, so for his birthday we tried out the one at Owl’s Club. The vibe is very “church basement” but in a way that’s kinda quaint? Seemed like there’s a great community of regulars who come back week after week – lots of dancing, laughing, and general merrymaking!

I got a disproportionate number of compliments on this outfit for how simple it was… Pretty sure the Doc Martens make me look a hell of a lot cooler than I am!

What I’m wearing:
• Black T-shirt with “W” logo – sent to me by some sex toy brand whose name I can’t recall; I like it because it appears to be Wikipedia merch, even though it isn’t 😂
• Denim shorts – the Gap; you will see a lot of them in this post!
• Black leather 10-hole Doc Martens
• Black leather jacket – Danier Leather
• Rainbow earrings – 3Delightfulshop on Etsy
• Red heart-shaped bag – Kate Spade

June 8th, 2025

I wore this to do a musical improv show with my troupe. I’m still adjusting to the sudden hard pivot I made from dressing mostly femme to dressing mostly androgynous upon re-joining the improv community last year – partly for practical reasons and partly just because I felt like a different person. This shirt and pants are both recent acquisitions as I’ve gradually updated my wardrobe to fit my current vibe. The loud Nikes and heart-shaped glasses, on the other hand, are older items which somehow fit right into my on-stage aesthetic. They’re like psychological armor for me at this point! (And that night, I sang about grapefruit cunnilingus and the mortality of autumn, incase you were wondering.)

What I’m wearing:
• Blue & red striped cropped T-shirt – the Gap (so great, makes me feel like the adult host of a children’s television show in the ’90s)
• Black ponte pants – the Gap, a gift from my mama (stretchy, comfy, perf improvwear)
• Pink/red/blue custom Nike Air Force 1s
• Heart-shaped prescription glasses – Zenni
• Black leather belt – the Gap
• Apple Watch with navy leather Hermès band – both gifts from my wife

June 12th, 2025

Some friends of mine were performing in an improv show at SoCap, and it was really hot out, so I put on this semi-unhinged little outfit to go watch them. They were excellent, and then we went out for a late-night dinner at the Edmund Burke before going over to a friend’s house for some silly late-night intoxicated musical improv over YouTube-sourced backing tracks. Improvisers are strange and wonderful people.

What I’m wearing:
• Black heart-print modal romper – MeUndies (some would say this isn’t the kind of thing you should wear out of the house… and they would be wrong about that)
• Rainbow cardigan – ModCloth many years ago (don’t shop from them these days, though – last I heard, they were taking payments without ever shipping orders out!)
• Black leather Frye harness boots
• Black leather vintage Coach Station handbag

June 13th, 2025

Told you I’ve been dressing more androgynously lately… This is probably the closest thing I’ve ever worn (and will ever wear) to a suit! I wore this out for a solo dinner at my beloved local pub, the Queen & Beaver, during which I read from David Rees’s deceptively hilarious book How to Sharpen Pencils.

What I’m wearing:
• Black blazer – thrifted many years ago and worn to a handful of job interviews in my twenties
• Orange-red tank top – the Gap
• Black ponte pants – the Gap
• Custom Nikes
• Vintage Coach Station bag

June 14th, 2025

Something I haven’t mentioned thus far in this post is that I spent most of June preparing to move to New York. Needless to say, packing up your entire life to move to a different country is an absolutely exhausting endeavor! There were some bright spots, however… like when I hauled a bunch of old clothes over to my local thrift store to donate them, and happened upon these jeans.

As I mentioned in my last outfits post, my body has changed size recently due to some medications I’m on, and so a lot of my clothes don’t fit me very well at the moment. I didn’t have any great-fitting jeans at this time, for example, but was wearing jeans to my improv shows nearly every week, so I needed a pair that actually fit! And although the surly goth manning the thrift-shop counter told me morosely that there weren’t any fitting rooms, I had a feeling these were meant to be mine, so I bought them, took them home, tried them on, and… knew I’d never loved a pair of jeans more in my entire life. I then proceeded to wear them obsessively for weeks on end, when weather allowed!

What I’m wearing:
• Greyish-blue tank top – some generic chain store; probably more of a bralette, to be honest with you!
• Blue skinny jeans – thrifted; they are the “Lola High Rise skinny” style by Denim Forum (a Canadian brand, incidentally!)
• Eevee socks that were probably a gift from my mama

June 16th, 2025

Not my most inventive ensemble, but here’s what I wore to have drinks at Civil Liberties (best cocktail bar ever) with a couple of kinksters I know from the internet who’d recently moved to Toronto! Always good to chat with fellow pervs over excellent bevs.

What I’m wearing:
• Cropped pink T-shirt – the Gap
• The aforementioned magic thrifted Denim Forum jeans
• The also-aforementioned custom Nikes, vintage Coach Station bag, and Danier Leather jacket
• Raspberry-pink heart-shaped leather earrings – Unicorn Collaborators
• Prescription sunglasses – Zenni

June 20th, 2025

Here’s what I wore to host my going-away party! I was really nervous, not being much of a party hostess (especially not since 2020!!), but I had such a fun time with my hilarious pals. It was a group of about 20 of us – roughly half were from my present-day improv troupe, while the other half were from other sectors/eras of my life, which was kinda trippy. But I guess that’s what parties are for, huh?

Because of my weird-ass job, I had amassed dozens of new-in-box sex toys that I had no particular use for, plus 48(!!) Tenga Eggs, and so I laid all of those out at the party and invited my guests to take whatever they pleased. I am thrilled to announce that nothing was left by the end of the night. And then we went to Comedy Bar karaoke for the after-party, and then went to Pizza Pizza for the after-after-party, and then moved to the Pizza Pizza parking lot for the after-after-after-party. I didn’t get home until nearly 4 a.m., which I’m pretty sure has not happened since I was an energetic young thing circa 2012…! (Thanks, low-dose naltrexone!)

What I’m wearing:
• Pink jumpsuit – Le Chateau
• The aforementioned Nikes, Coach bag, Apple Watch and Unicorn Collaborators earrings
• …& let’s not forget my fabulous Bailey Hikawa phone case, which delights me daily!

Photos by my mama

June 22nd, 2025

Another improv show outfit! Improvising in shorts and a crop top is not ideal as far as wardrobe malfunction risk, but good lord it was so fucking hot out on this day, so I layered with tights and a bralette as appropriate and hoped for the best! Someone told me this look reminded him of Bart Simpson, which feels like a compliment.

I was particularly pleased with myself for the “jingle” I improvised about the movie Clueless – plus, a hoedown verse about dressing slutty on Halloween!

What I’m wearing:
• Orange tank top – the Gap
• Denim shorts – the Gap
• Turquoise opaque tights – Hue
• Black leather Converse Chuck Taylor sneakers
• The aforementioned Zenni heart-shaped glasses and Unicorn Collaborators heart-shaped earrings (hmm… it would appear that I like hearts!)

June 26th, 2025

A couple of my friends were performing in a prom-themed improv show at Comedy Bar, complete with costumes and incredible makeup + hairstyling. It was a hoot! I had already packed most of my dresses for the upcoming move at this point, and this slinky little number was one of the only dresses still hanging in my closet, so I threw it on to go drink an IPA while laughing riotously at my friends’ scenes.

What I’m wearing:
• Green polka-dotted dress – thrifted about a decade ago when trying to decide on a Feminist Porn Awards outfit
• Raspberry-pink lacy bralette – Aerie (just barely peeking out, and yet, notice how it matches my lipstick and my phone case… gawd I love being a femme)
• Black leather Doc Martens
• Vintage Coach Station bag

Middle photo by Tess

June 29th, 2025 (day)

Another way-too-hot day! My schedule was pretty packed: in the morning, I took the subway across town to attend a 4-hour musical improv intensive at Comedy Bar, taught by the lovely Devon Hyland, who is an insightful and hilarious teacher. We learned a lot about how to come up with a comedic premise for a song on-the-fly, which is somehow both easier and harder than it sounds… Those 4 hours really flew by!

After that, a friend and I took the subway over to the gayborhood together, because it was Pride Parade day! We walked around people-watching, talking, and soaking up the sun. Perfect day, tbh! And then later I had to change my outfit for my troupe’s final improv show (see below) – boooo!

What I’m wearing:
• Red tank top – the Gap
• Denim shorts – the Gap
• Blue opaque tights – Hue
• The aforementioned custom Nikes, Apple Watch, vintage Coach bag, & rainbow earrings from 3Delightfulshop
• Rainbow bandana – thrifted in high school

June 29th, 2025 (night)

After the Pride Parade, I raced home and had just enough time to shower and change for our last show! Basically the same outfit as above, except with a few key items swapped out… so in fact, I won’t even go into detail on this one, except to say that the pink tank top is a different colorway of the same red one I wore above, and the heart-print tights were probably a gift from my mama in like 2013! Oh yeah, and the bag I always take with me on show nights is this orange leather Coach Poppy satchel that I found on eBay.

July 2nd, 2025

Originally my plan was to move on July 1st, but then some friends pointed out to me, “You’re leaving Canada on Canada Day?!” and suddenly it occurred to me: I should move on July 2nd instead, so I could spend my last night in the country watching the fireworks with my mom and brother like we do every year. It was a really special night and I’m so glad I stayed for it.

This was the next day, my actual moving day. Going into it, I was more stressed and anxious than I’ve felt about anything in a looooong time… but I was blessed enough to have a lot of amazing people helping me out, and so it went more smoothly than expected. As I’m writing this nearly a week later, I haven’t actually received my stuff from the movers yet, so we’ll have to wait and see how that goes… but overall, I’m really glad it’s done, and so happy to be living with my wife in Brooklyn now. Definitely feeling a lot better than I was when I took these moving-day photos, where the stress and trepidation (not to mention sweat) are palpable on my face!!

What I’m wearing:
• Turquoise cropped T-shirt – the Gap
• The aforementioned thrifted Denim Forum jeans, Frye harness boots, and Apple Watch
• Blue leather Tori Burch bracelet – a gift from my love; sometimes I wear it when I want to feel like she is with me 💙

Come See Me Do Musical Improv In-Person In Toronto!

Kate Sloan

“What is musical improv, exactly?”

A number of friends have asked me this question over the past few months, as I’ve worked my way through the beginner and advanced musical improv classes at Comedy Bar here in Toronto.

I’m always glad they asked, because I’ve been obsessed with this art form for years, even before I gathered the guts to get involved in it myself. I could yap about it for hours.

our ask-for was “a room in the house”

the suggestion we got was “mud room”

I was given the song title “It’s Too Mud-Roomy”

I sang a soulful solo about divorce and muddy boots 😂

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— Kate Sloan (she/her) (@katesloan.com) April 4, 2025 at 11:43 AM

When they ask about it, I explain to them that this type of musical improv (as opposed to, say, instrumental jazz improv) involves singing songs you make up on the spot, with the help of a musical director who’s playing the piano. Often it’s shortform games you might’ve seen on old episodes of Whose Line Is It Anyway, like Hoedown or Irish Drinking Song, in which you make up lyrics as a group to a pre-existing melody.

But other times, we make up the lyrics and the melody simultaneously, and – to quote the musical improvisor Zach Reino – “if that sounds terrifying… thank you!”

It is terrifying, but that’s part of why I love it. You’re surfing the razor’s edge of adrenaline at all times, always trying to land that next line, that next rhyme. And because improv is based on the momentary impulses of our strange brains, sometimes it goes to some zany places.

yay, I can upload longer videos here now, so I can share this:

my solo song from my musical improv show earlier this week!

the suggestion I got was “THE VERY LAST PIZZA”

this show was completely wild for me because I wasn’t nervous at all, which I’m pretty sure has never happened to me in my LIFE

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— Kate Sloan (she/her) (@katesloan.com) March 12, 2025 at 11:03 AM

All this to say, darlings, that this semester I’ve been bumped up to the ‘pro’ musical improv class, and we’re doing a bunch of shows!! And you’re invited, assuming you’re in/near Toronto or can get here!

My class and I will be performing in 8 weekly shows at Comedy Bar’s Danforth location. You can buy tickets at this link for whichever performance(s) you’d like to attend. I’m gonna be in these ones:

  • Sunday, April 27th at 7:30 p.m.
  • Sunday, May 4th at 7:30 p.m.
  • Sunday, May 11th at 7:30 p.m.
  • Sunday, May 18th at 7:30 p.m.
  • Sunday, May 25th at 7:30 p.m.
  • Sunday, June 1st at 7:30 p.m.
  • Sunday, June 8th at 7:30 p.m.
  • Sunday, June 15th at 7:30 p.m.

Incidentally, each of these shows ends with a musical ‘improv jam’ where you can (optionally!) put your name in a hat and get called up to do impromptu improv with a bunch of other cool comedy nerds, myself likely included (depending on post-show energy levels). So if you enjoy the show and it gets you curious about trying musical improv yourself, you can give it a shot immediately, with supportive folks – including (I think) our ultra-talented musical director Jacob Ollivier on the keys!

if I may tempt you further, here is a brief clip from my last musical improv show, of me improvising a blues verse about spaceships & Jeff Bezos 🚀

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— Kate Sloan (she/her) (@katesloan.com) March 4, 2025 at 5:31 PM

It’s so exciting to be doing so much improv performance again; prior to this latest stint, I hadn’t really done improv since high school (which was 14 years ago!!), and getting back into it has reminded me that laughter and joy are more important now than ever… and that when you force yourself to do fun-scary things, it gets easier to do hard-scary things, too.

Hope to see you at Comedy Bar for some unhinged, off-the-cuff musical fun 😘

How I Fell in Love With Cock & Ball Torture 😈 💜

Kate Sloan

Helen: You can’t possibly know how you’ll respond to something until you try it.

Jessica: I happen to disagree. I happen to think, if you know yourself well, you can gauge how you’re going to react to something…

Helen: You know how you’ll react to everything?

Jessica: Pretty much, yes.

[Helen suddenly kisses her; Jessica falls silent, shocked]

Helen: I guess you’re right. You seem to know yourself pretty well.

This dialogue from the movie Kissing Jessica Stein sums up exactly why it took me so long to realize I liked doing cock & ball torture (a.k.a. CBT, not to be confused with cognitive-behavioral therapy). I thought I knew myself well enough to already know, more-or-less, which kinks could appeal to me and which simply couldn’t. But I was wrong about that.

 

My first CBT experience

My first few penis’ed partners had no interest in genital torture – and to be fair, neither did I – so it wasn’t until my mid-twenties that I encountered someone who wanted me to hurt his dick.

He brought it up during a late-night handjob. We hadn’t been dating for very long, and I was still trying to get a grasp on what worked for him, so to speak. I hadn’t been able to make him come yet, despite ample effort and interest; I had only occasionally laid beside him in bed while he got himself off instead.

Tonight I’d wanted to give it another go, but his dick still seemed unimpressed. So I floundered, technique-wise, trying anything I could think of, until… he put his hand on mine, to pause my stroking, and said, simply: “Pinch the skin as hard as you can.”

I remember thinking: As HARD as I CAN?! Are you SURE?!

But lo and behold, when I picked a spot on his shaft and followed his instruction, within seconds he was coming all over my hands.

That relationship didn’t last long, for a whole host of reasons (some sexual, some less so), but it taught me some important lessons that I would take with me into the rest of my sex & dating life – including that dick pain could be a turn-on for some people, and that apparently I was one of those people.

 

Why I like CBT now

It’s been nearly a decade since that initial pinchy handjob that kicked everything off, and I’ve done a fair bit more CBT since then. I’m certainly no pro, like the ballbusting experts you’ll see on clip sites and at certain fetish parties (you know who you are!), but I do it semi-regularly and with relish. Here are a few reasons I like topping for CBT…

• Hurting people who want to be hurt is hot! I wouldn’t enjoy slapping someone’s dick around unless they really, really wanted me to, because masochists’ desire for pain and positive responses to pain are what make the interaction sexy to me, for the most part. Someone begging you to hurt them, if you’re both into that, can be as hot as someone begging you to fuck them, and for the same reasons: it means they want you and they trust you. That’s high praise!

• Penises are culturally weighty. Slapping someone’s cock is really different from slapping, say, their ass or their face. Not only does it feel very physically different because of the different concentrations of nerve endings involved; it also feels pretty different psychologically for both the top and the bottom. People’s feelings about their own genitals may relate to their understandings of gender, power, desirability/attractiveness, and more, and all of that may come up during CBT play (which is part of why pre-negotiation and aftercare are so important!). Likewise, I know my own feelings about CBT as a top are influenced by cultural baggage I’ve absorbed about dicks; over the course of my life, I have felt afraid of them, fascinated by them, desirous of them, and often some combination thereof, so it’s an interesting experience psychologically to inflict consensual pain on one.

• New routes to pleasure/orgasm are cool! Few things are sexier to me than seeing someone being overwhelmed by pleasure, especially unexpectedly intense pleasure – and even though I’ve made my partner come many times by slapping their cock at this point, I still find it astonishing every single time. Aside from that one experience with a previous partner that I described above, neither my spouse nor I had played with this kink to this extent before, so it feels intimate and sweet that we’ve found this new-to-us way to share pleasure through pain.

 

How about you, dear reader? Are you a CBT aficionado, or is it a bridge too far for your delicate, uh, sensibilities? 😉

 

This post contains a sponsored link. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.

Making VR Porn With My Partner Was Hot, Cool, & Weird…

Kate Sloan
Playing the ukulele with an Apple Vision Pro on for some reason

“Would you fuck your clone?”

This is one of the many questions that us sex nerds tend to debate with each other. It’ll come up in the blogger lounge at the sex conference, or in the back row of the sexual psychology lecture, or in the aftercare cuddle puddle at the play party. No matter the answers amongst the group, it’s sure to be an interesting conversation.

There are some standard sub-questions that arise as a result of this bigger, broader question, like: Is fucking your clone closer to incest, or masturbation? Are you sexually compatible with yourself, or would you run into some classic top4top or bottom4bottom difficulties in trying to fuck yourself? Are you attracted to yourself, and if not, does that even affect your answer?

That last one is really the clincher for me, and is the main reason I would not fuck my clone: I’m just not that into me. Granted, you don’t have to be attracted to someone to fuck them, and I certainly haven’t been super attracted to every person I’ve ever hooked up with – but I think, in this case, I would find that hurdle tough to overcome.

I bring this up because making VR blowjob porn with my partner, and subsequently watching said porn on my partner’s VR headset, is probably the closest I’ll ever come to fucking my clone – and it was both very weird and very cool.

A quick rundown on VR porn for those unacquainted: Virtual-reality headsets, while commonly used for video games, can also be used to watch hyperrealistic, three-dimensional media, including porn. Websites such as Virtual Real Porn offer VR videos, for instance, as do some early-adopter independent creators. Some sex toys can even be synced up with VR porn for an extra-realistic experience – for example, a stroker might slide up and down on your dick to the exact rhythm and depth depicted in the 3D clip you’re watching. The future is here, and it is sexy!

When my partner got an Apple Vision Pro headset shortly after its launch, she let me try it out, and showed me various cool features on it – and because we’re both perverts, she also asked me if I wanted to watch and/or make porn on it. Naturally, I said yes!

One of my all-time favorite porn genres is POV blowjobs, so we decided to start with one of those. The Vision Pro can take 3D video, so my partner strapped hers on and hit ‘record,’ and I got to work. Giving head to someone who’s wearing an enormous VR headset is pretty hilarious, I have to admit – but there were also times when it felt hot in a deeply perverse way, like I was being coolly surveilled by a bug-eyed alien, or blowing a disinterested gamer during a LoL raid.

It wasn’t my first rodeo (or, uh, blow-deo) – I’ve starred in BJ porn a handful of other times before – but something still felt new and fresh about it, I think because I was aware that people other than my partner might watch the video one day, and might therefore feel like I’m blowing them, and so I felt a certain responsibility to ‘play all the hits,’ as it were – to be a crowd-pleaser, all the way through. (The video isn’t currently available for purchase, although another (non-VR) POV blowjob of mine is.)

The most surreal part for me was watching the video later on, while wearing the headset myself. It was nothing like the times before when I’d watched my own 2D blowjob videos in a QuickTime window on my laptop screen – now, the image filled my entire field of view, and appeared so three-dimensional that I almost thought I could reach down and brush my own hair out of my face.

I got to observe a blowjob I’d already experienced, but from a different angle. In essence, I got to receive a BJ from my clone… and it was weeeeeird! Despite POV blowjobs being a go-to search term for me on any porn site, I just couldn’t get into this one. I was too consumed with self-criticism, too zoomed in on my flaws, my awkwardness, and the sheer fact of me being me.

So, no – I don’t think I would fuck my clone. But would I watch her suck off my partner in 3D, just to revel in the frisson of charged discomfort it conjures? Abso-fuckin-lutely. I have, and I would do it again.

 

This post contains a sponsored link. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.