Monthly Archives: August 2007
I’ve redesigned the gallery to save myself some disk space.
New stuff rubs tattooed shoulders with the old stuff. If it doesn’t display correctly for you, or you think there’s an aspect that could be improved (more breasts is not a sensible suggestion) let me know.
Seriously. What’s New from Only The Lonely is fucking awesome… a majestic song of longing and loss and hope… and his voice is sooooo smooth yet able to express all the shit he’s been through.
Frank Sinatra Sings for Only The Lonely 1958
It’s probably best to work on the basis that all the links posted here will be most definitely NSFW.
For a long time i’ve lusted after these candy apple wrist restraints from the always excellent Babeland (my vibe is still making me overly happy two years down the line), but I think they now have a run for their money…
These ruby red snakeskin beauties from Kadett/Car. Actually almost all of the restraints they sell are lustworthy… I say almost in that I do not like the pink leather. The patent dark red ones are really very pretty too… as is the idea of gunmetal grey with a blood red lining. Hey, they’d match my tattoo- A perfect reason to buy :/
Then we have the comprehensive selection at Fettered Pleasures, a site that has lots of cool stuff but also rather a lot of stuff that’s just a lil’ too hardcore for my tastes. I don’t want to have to use padlocks to keep them shut however and a lot of the restraints here are thus.
Of course, this fantasy shopping is just that- I don’t think it’s exactly wise to be spending money that I need to feed and house myself with on items that would probably be no more that a fashion accessory. However, this is exactly the sort of thing that makes it all the more tempting. It’s like the beautiful underwear at Pudding- really a no-go.
There’s also a definite geek thing going on with all this sex-related browsing. I think I could compare it with the strange male obsession with widescreen TV’s, you know, plasma vs. LCD vs. projection etc. Ties in with my usual need to find out all the information I can about a particular subject.
You may not believe me but honestly, I am not the sort of gal to go crazy on shoes or makeup or similar fripparies. There are only a few material objects that make my eyes shine- geeky things/kids stuff, underwear, cars and sex-related products. So that’s just everything in the world then.
Also, when fantasy shopping another element of fantasy is who I want to slip off the underwear/ who I want to experiment on/ who I want to experiment on me. Bondage is just one example of something I would like to experience but am prevented from doing so due to a lack of a partner. I can’t fully express myself (sexually and otherwise) because I am not in any sort of supportive relationship. As i’ve written before, I find this difficult to deal with.
Anyway, if we go back to the fantasy where I do have someone… The person I choose to be intimate with takes me out to dinner and during the course of the evening presents me with a plain white box. Nestling inside in tissue paper sit a complete set of pretty cuffs….
After gushing my profuse thanks and bouncing up and down in my seat for a little while (how terribly uncouth) I spend the rest of the evening being unable to concentrate on coordinating previously simple tasks such as eating. He just has to look at me and i’m off- I drop cutlery, laugh too much, blush lots and generally spazz out. He sits across from me and quietly takes in the whole mess that is now me, doing nothing except smirk.
When it’s time to leave I stand on wobbly legs- no, not just due to my heels- and somehow manage to get to the door without imploding or falling over. He puts a hand on my lower back to guide me out. I resist the urge to push him up against the wall and stick my tongue down his throat. On the walk back to his den of iniquity I stop and bend over and pretend to adjust my seams, giving him an eyeful of my new boobs (ha) and all the layers of petticoat he has to make his way through to get to me- I forgot to mention I am wearing something similar to this.
We get back to his and my mind is melted.
Right, so let’s tally up the approximate costs of this fantasy:
Dinner for two £60
Matte underbust corset £150
Sheer blouse £25?
Suspender belt £25
Wrist and ankle restraints £90
Rope, clips/rings £20?
Optional spacer bar £65
Condoms & lube £15
£602. For an evening.
Even if I take off dinner, the spacer bar and the things I already own it still comes to £235…
…and I don’t even have anyone to live it with. It is a fantasy after all.
The bondage stuff could just as easily be replaced with nice underwear to cut costs, and even that could be replaced with just dinner, and i’d wear my ripped combats and my pair of battered shell toe Adidas whilst waiting for my slap up meal at McDonalds.
For all this thinking of money and merchandise I find it difficult to believe I could feel any more content than when I am curled up in the arms of someone who loves me, and that’s for free.
I should have gone to Tesco today as I need nourishment. I should be planning what I am going to be teaching next week. So what have I been doing? Spending all afternoon browsing bondage equipment. But of course.
NSFW Flickr Underboob & Sideboob and Australian Cleavage
Today I tested out my supposed new boobage in M&S and HoF to find out if it really is me or if it’s sixty-quid bras… Wonder of wonders, the lady from Pudding was right- I do indeed look better in a 32C. It was quite extraordinary how a small thing like going down a back size and up a cup size could make such a difference. No straps fell down and I filled out the cup nicely. Woo.
This is excellent news because my straps will not continuously slip off my shoulders, my breasts will be properly supported and I have a valid excuse to buy new underwear. Not that I really need an excuse, but huzzah.
Also- Tribe last night. There was a small bundle of fur and blankets that was a Nenets child amusing himself on a snowmobile. He sat on it and went “brummm” and steered the very stationary machine left and right on an imaginary journey. EXACTLY like an Ewok on a speeder bike.
V MAGAZINE – Fabulous fashion photography old and contemporary
Ambient Lounge – Bean bags that i’d love to curl up on…
NSFW Pornographic query: Is a DP inherently sexist? – Well-argued essay that I happen to agree with. If you don’t know what a DP is, well, here you NSFW go
I won’t back down – Hiromi X experiences something that I would say relates to the previous essay
Racing In The Street – Bruce Springsteen – One of my favourite tracks
The Nipples – Polly Vous Francais? – Wonderbras in France will soon be available with nipples on the outside of the bra shell
She Thinks She’s Edith Head – The designer of Grace Kelly’s costumes in Rear Window, amongst many, many others
Oscar de la Renta evening dress – How I wish I could afford this & how I wish I could fit into it
Young Woz and Jobs Playset – Lego set
NSFW Gems found in a Japanese Sex Supermarket
My trip to the exotic locale of Milton Keynes was uneventful. I successfully catalogued all the books and got to have two free meals. My Grandmother was well, however I found her living environment somewhat difficult.
Basically she tries her best, however, at her stage in life her best isn’t sufficient. Basic hygiene has almost gone out the window- the carpet is covered in ground in food particles, collected eggshells are kept in the same dish as the sponges used to wash the dishes, the tea cups are all brown, the washing up bowl is parked on top of the bin so that it’s easy to reach. I’m amazed she hasn’t come down with something.
It’s the physical poverty of old age that I found affecting. The fact that at some point, it just isn’t possible to keep objects, places or yourself clean. Combined with the stacks of old board games and other detritus, my dead Grandad’s coats hanging up by the door and the many, many pictures of grandchildren that follow them from chubby Year 2’s all the way up to their university graduation- It made me feel a wee bit glum.
I took in Revenge of the Sith in my new beanbag nest (due to boredom) after having consumed a glass or two of (suprisingly tasty) wine; I wept at the same usual spots: Order Sixty-Six, Anakin getting charbroiled and turned into Vader, Luke and Leia’s birth and their mother’s funeral procession. Gah.
I am spending the weekend being a dutiful grandchild at my Grandmother’s house cataloguing her late husband’s book collection. Loads and loads of books to sort through and photograph; although I am not particularly looking forward to the trek through Lahndahn I feel that it’s a small thing I can do to help out.
Of course i’d rather be spending my time cocooned in my nest or being made to blush; alas the despicable creatures that pass for my neighbours put pay to relaxation through their horrific noise levels and MW#1 hasn’t invited me out for a “proper” night out in well over sixth months. A “proper” night out? Basically an evening where I know from the get go i’ll be getting intimately acquainted with his manfur.
I know i’m *totally* an easy mark, but I miss dressing up and having moves put upon me- Where he fixes me intently with his baby-blues and openly tells me the dirty things that I will be doing later, the hands slid round my waist, the fingers lingering around the nape of my neck leading to detours down darkened side streets and being turned on so much that I can barely breathe….
But no. I’m going to be in exotic Milton Keynes. But at least I am doing good.
NSFW Kinky Database – How much you can expect to earn for doing what when working for the fab people at Kink.com (Fucking Machines etc al.)
Baby Squid, Born Like Stars – YouTube – Gobsmacking footage of a squid shaking it’s offspring out of a giant sack of eggs carried between it’s tentacles
Wholphin DVD – Loads of very interesting short films, including the simple yet cool:
How to Draw a Giraffe
If U Want It – Vula – “Mmmm… Coco Pops…” – Proper dance around in my pants music
Walk Hard – YouTube – This looks fairly genius…
Top 10 Physically Modified People – Eeek! I love my body art but…
Only one more week left before I start my new post. Ug.
13 of the worst fake accents in film – Oh, Helloooo There Don Cheadle
Schmidt Sting Pain Index – Interesting descriptions of the grades of pain you will go through if you are stung by various insects, for example “1.0 Sweat bee: Light, ephemeral, almost fruity. A tiny spark has singed a single hair on your arm.”
NSFW 3D Retro Eros – Flickr
Even the Office 2007 box has a learning curve – Joel on Software
Trap Jaw Ant: World’s Fastest Appendage – Zooillogix – Fun video of bouncing ants
African Booze Tree – Watch the drunken monkeys… and elephants… and giraffes…
Jumping Spider Mating Dance – I DESPISE spiders. However, this video of a thrumming, wildly gesticulating horny male is super-amusing
David Vetter – The ethically dubious tale of the real-life Bubble Boy
Oil Bath Bubbles: Building Dagobah – Diorama greatness that I most certainly would have loved to do when a smaller individual, and would probably do now if it didn’t take me away from wasting my time.
Crochet an Ewok – I have an irrational dislike of crochet. This Ewok is nice though.
Hysteria over 1-18-08.com – JJ Abrams’ new monster/parasite/zombie flick
Cloverfield Clues and ARG: 1-18-08 (Cloverfield)
Raoul Bova, Wet – gratuitous deliciousness
Why have I been reading about Sugar Gliders for two hours? Now I am reminiscing over hamsters.
Life is dull and I am feeling podgy.
I have only just discovered the site VideoJug– it’s a repository of video how-to-guides (a bit like Instructables or Make but with more of a sarc-y voice over). It’s got lots of useful things on there…
How To Get Out Of A Car Without Showing Your Knickers – know this- My Mum taught me well :)
How To Avoid Trapped Arm Whilst Cuddling In Bed
How To Massage Away Lower Back Pain – to me this video is pornography… gah… my back…
The ICA is funding a reconstruction of The Death of Peter Fechter in an industrial estate somewhere in London, complete with mini-Mauer
Interzone – artwork of the deathstrip
Depression is over-diagnosed, psychiatrist claims – Guardian – Probably, because life ain’t fun all the time. I just like the part where it says three-quarters of all the teachers surveyed were classed as depressed. Heh.
After Signing On for the first time- the lady looked at all my fictional attempts at finding work for literally five seconds before thanking me and letting me go- I went into M&S and tried on eight bras in my search for the perfect black bra. I went up and down back and cup sizes but still couldn’t find anything that looked right. I gave up and wandered over to Pudding. It was AWESOME.
Bras and knickers and basques and bikinis and babydolls of all styles and colours all out on display to peruse and an extremely lovely lady running the place. I asked why she’d got into such an unusual business (at least for our geographical location); she and her husband had worked in the City, they had got fed up and decided there was more to life and a gap in the market here for fancy undies. I helped out by telling them their website didn’t display properly in Firefox :)
I got myself topless and she helped me get into each bra- It was strangely liberating to be standing with another woman in the changing booth laughing about my boobs whilst semi-naked. She found three fabulous bras that fit perfectly and gave me a pleasing shape immediately. She seemed genuinely happy when I was fully in each bra as she grinned from ear-to-ear and said “I looked lovely.” It was strangely uplifting (if you’ll pardon the phrase) and extremely satisfying to see my boobs so happily ensconced in black lace and neon pink silk; they looked much better and I felt much better. I actually went “wow” at the change in my shape.
I was not taxed in any way and greatly enjoyed the experience, although I did feel a bit guilty not buying anything but the owner didn’t seem to mind. The only slight downer was the price of the lovely bras and my lack of cashflow. If any benefactors would care to help out I’d like a SPANK Frill underwired non-padded bra in neon pink or a Le Mystere Francesca demi cup in black (not fully lace covered) at £39 and £55 respectively. Oh and the matching pants. Anyone? Yeah, I think i’ll be saving up myself…
In *massive* news, I have gone down a back size and up a cup size. I am still blatantly a B cup but all the bras that fit were 32C’s, so I can officially say I am more busty haha.
The business is an inspiration to me about how any sex shop I ran could work. I didn’t even buy anything this time but I will be back; I felt really good upon leaving and would heartily recommend the place to all my friends- the sign of a good business I think.
NSFW Amanda Coogan – Performance artist – I particularly like her Mary Magdalene In Ecstasy and the hi-larious Stay Lady Stay – stand completely still, stare at an audience in a mirror for 8 hours a day for 7 days…
Blurb and Lulu – publish your blog as a book or publish your own writing/photos/poetry. Just to have a book made up with my own stuff would be so egotastically cool.
Make Your Own Action Figure – Wired
The Accidental Video Game Porn Archive – I love the Doom III zombie anal and the Kirby orgy
Siebren Versteeg – lots of very interesting analytical artwork
Chasing Artist and Downtown Legend Dash Snow – He makes “Hamster’s Nests” where he tears up 30 to 50 phone books, spreads the resulting shreds around a hotel room and does mushrooms, coke and ecstasy until he feels like he is a hamster in a nest.
Caution: This Art Might Make You Seasick – Video art installation that appears to have a rotating wall
An extremely bizarre, 22-part series written and directed by Mister Alleged Under-aged Sex himself, R Kelly.
Trapped In The Closet
Basically, each episode consists of Kelly narrating a story about adultery, midgets, gunfights, gays and Poh-leece whilst a small gang of actors act out what is happening in the story. It’s all set to a profoundly odd backing track of sort of r’n’b droppy randomness, and Kelly sings the wording, adding falsettos for the women as appropriate.
An example of an ending line: “Now pause the movie cause what I’m about to say to y’all is so damn twisted, not only is there a man in his cabinet, but the man is a midget! MIDGET! MIDGET! MIDGET!” It’s warped genius.
There is a helpful summary of what the fuck this is all about here
NYMag Analysis of the new episodes
I saw a sign advertising this new shop today Pudding
Although it will be a rather taxing experience, I think I will have to be brave and go and have a look. Taxing as I do not have either the money to drop on beauteous underwear (oooh… SPANK, Spoylt and Myla) nor do I think anyone will drop their money on me. I’d look so podgily appealing too :D
Maybe I can take a peek when I go and Sign On on Friday. Yay.
Petite Coquette – lingerie blog
La Magia Lingerie
The Modern Courtesan – warning flash heavy
Mint Siren – check out the new collection
Peacock and Strutt
Wearing your anatomy on your skin – From the blog on medical visualisation Street Anatomy
Richard Dawkins documentaries
PEONY – Katinka Matson
Branded with Science – Scienceblogs on scientists’ tattoos
Remoting Future – Monochrom marking future events
The Science of Insulting Women – NYT Freakonomics on how insulting women actually hooks them. Somehow. If some guy asked me the question suggested in the article to enable hooking “So, what do you have going for you apart from your looks?” I would probably react differently than the intended- defensively and needing to justify myself (and getting hooked). I would laugh and immediately question their eyesight. I’m clearly an old lag at defending myself from pricks :)
Stormtroopers in Love – Flickr set from Red and Jonny
Brainwashed by a parasite – Science Blogs article about organisms that take over the brains of others. Gobsmacking videos of a parasitic worm causing an insect to drown itself so that it can escape its host and of a worm escaping from inside a frog that had eaten the host.
Block Posters – Create giant posters using a regular printer.
Tokyo Summerland – Giant indoor pool filled with people plus wave machine equals greatness
A selection of songs of both dubious and fabulous quality that filled my early childhood (all YouTube)
A Half Century of British Number Ones
King – Love and Pride
Bangles – Walk Like An Egyptian
Phil Collins – Sussudio
Level 42 – Running in the Family
The Four Tops – Loco In Acapulco
Go West – We Close Our Eyes
Chaka Khan – I Feel For You
Duran Duran – The Reflex
David Bowie – Let’s Dance
Michael McDonald – Sweet Freedom
Miami Sound Machine – Dr Beat
Howard Jones – What is Love
Kajagoogoo – Too Shy
A-ha – The Sun Always Shines On TV
Falco – Rock Me Amadeus
Nena – 99 Luftballons
Jackie Wilson – Reet Petite
Diana Ross – Chain Reaction
Sister Sledge – Frankie
ITV Chart Show Top Ten February 1989
Gene Pitney – Something’s …
808 State – Pacific
Rapido – Part 1
Jive Bunny and The Mastermixers – Swing the mood
Nik Kershaw – Wouldn’t it be good
Belouis Some – Imagination
I ventured out of my pit and into Lahndahn tahn to meet up with post-operative Bobby Convey.
We went and looked at a nice cemetery and had an excellent lunch (courtesy of Ms Convey); amongst other things we talked about how we wanted our funerals to go if one of us keels over before the other, the personality of Marcus, and fabulousness and the men who don’t recognise it. We visited a small local museum where I decided that bustles should come back into fashion. Most productive.
When eating our pizza later on we were watching “Top 50 forgotten gems from the 90’s” on some awful music channel; it turned out to be the Top 50 from the 80’s (score) and my mind went into overdrive remembering the music of my early childhood. YouTube greatness/horrendousness to follow.
Why the fuck can’t I find any pictures of this man with his shirt off?
After an afternoon making a cider last two hours in the company of Caversham Princess, Bobby Convey and Sawyer I ended up with just a lil’ crush on Marcus Hahnemann.
I was particularly taken with him when he showed up topless and sweaty at the post-match interview. Manfur. Not too much, so not too scary, but a decent amount, an amount that feels good when you rub your cheek against it. Hee.
Now that I have this new man crush, what are the pros and cons of this non-relationship? What should I be aware of before I take the plunge? Well, I have done some careful analysis.
1.Has a decent covering of non-scary manfur.
2. Appears to have a tongue that he likes to use frequently.
3. Had broad shoulders to carry me about on.
4. Has a broad chest for me to curl up on.
5, Guns, baby.
6. Is good with his hands.
7. Owns at least one high performance car.
8. Likes Star Wars.
9. Is relatively tall.
10. Appears strong enough to carry me away from threats at a decent clip.
1. Has no hair to run my fingers through.
2. Bit of a patriotic jock.
3. Likes Tool and Limp Biscuit.
I think you can see that there is only one result to be correlated after analysing the data- I must study the Hahnemann! The problem is that there are so few images of him to be had off the internets I can feel my crush tailing off already. I need a fix if i’m going to keep it up. Grr.
Also, Nani? Totally the bloke from 2 Unlimited.
MW#1’s for TNA, milk and Leerdammer and The Marine. Hooray. A new cheese I can munch. It’s a shame that there are only eight slices in a pack… :D
The Marine was frankly God-awful. Unfortunately, John Cena is coming up against the acting genius that is Dwayne The Rock Johnson, so he really needs to work on the gamut of emotions he can display- something more than happy, confused and grumpy. There is more to life, Johnny boy.
Even after all my ranting, it was good to see MW#1, just to sit and be quiet and relax in his company. I say quiet, but of course I was doing my usual thing of hooting with derision at the wrestlers and cackling with laughter at John Cena trying to emote. I was quieter than usual I guess, but that’s how I usually am after i’ve torn him a new one on here, sort of nervous.
Anyway, I feel nice and calm for the moment. Like a big kitten-y placid-type thing. Huzzah.
“Where are we going?”
“To make me happy”
WOW. I’m just back from my yearly checkup at the ENT clinic and the most super cool thing happened- I got to see inside my head! Well, nose and throat actually but inside myself wooo.
I had a different Doc this time and he was mightily impressed with my youth and number of nasal operations. Score. Anyway, he squirted some anaesthetic up my nostrils and we went next door to the room where the endoscope lived. I asked if I could watch the monitor as he went through my nasal passages to check for nasal polyps or anything else (potatoes, lego bricks, tumours). He seemed surprised at this request but swivelled me round so I could see.
I held the end bit whilst he focused the image and then he was off, poking through my nose to peer around. I was so excited at all of this I found it hard not to laugh but as he pushed past snot, polyps (alas) and turbinates he must have seen my obvious enjoyment of this and so he showed me my larynx. He asked me to go “eeee” and I got to see my larynx working.
It was all SO interesting. I got to see why I end up not being able to breathe, why I have pain in my head and face, why my nose runs. I didn’t get to see inside my sinuses but the polyps I saw looked like pale, fleshy drops attached to the walls of my nose. Some were pale like the inside of a white grape, some were pink with an obvious blood supply; my larynx was marbled and quite bumpy. I wish I had photos.
The Doctor and the nurse were all laughing at my excitement but I didn’t care. I felt so enormously happy when I left- It was like i’d been to the Natural History museum for an afternoon.
Yeah i’m a big kid, but at least I can make my own entertainment.
I am now going through my usual post-rant regret phase. Sigh.
Paulie and Pauline – NSFW photography of adult performers in their personal sexual lives
When Amber met Amber – An artist’s complicated relationship with her look-alike sex doll (fascinating)
F Is for Forniphilia – a tale of furniture love from The Reverse Cowgirl
When Under Ether – YouTube – PJ Harvey – A beautiful song… perhaps about abortion?
Towards the Medical – Article by Jack Sargeant discussing the medicalised fetish
Embrace – Beautiful short exploring a time of crisis
Giant Lego Man Washed Up On Dutch Beach
Blankety Blank (The Lost Episode) – NSFW awesomeness
White Wedding – YouTube – Billy Idol
Ashes To Ashes – YouTube – David Bowie
Stand & Deliver, Prince Charming and Ant Music – YouTube – Adam and the Ants
So anyway Simon Pegg was a man with a gun who wasn’t afraid to use it.
He was standing to my left, dressed in dark green combats and blue windbreaker and was rocking the bleached hair look. He stood just behind a column watching a security guard wandering along one of the upper levels in the mega mall we both happened to be in; it was a monstrosity in fake marble and trompe l’oeil Tuscan vistas. This would have been just about acceptable if we were in Manchester, but we were in California.
I sucked on my chocolate milkshake and watched Pegg watch the guard; I noticed the bulge on his hip and how his jacket flared out a little over the shoulder and I thought something was not quite right. As the rent-a-cop walked away Pegg moved back behind the column and stood next to a large control panel in the wall. He took a key out of his pocket and unlocked the mesh door to the panel, revealing an array of switches, indicators and a keypad. I noticed that the lanyard that dangled from the key was bloodstained and that his knuckles were skinned.
He ignored me completely, keeping focused on the position of the security guard; every so often he would break off from his task and peer out from around the column and check on the guard’s progress. With the door open he pulled a card out of his pocket and ran it through the reader to the side of the panel, peered closely at the line display and punched a set of numbers in. As he lifted his hands to the panel the holster that hung from his left shoulder was visible under his jacket. Hmmm…
I stood and I sucked and I pondered. Pegg took one last look out at the guard (who was just making his way back towards our end of the building), ducked back in, took the gun off his hip and started to flick the switches. The indicators started changing from green to red and as they did so metal shutters started to slowly descend, blocking off the entrances to the shops. The guard saw Pegg by the panel and began to run towards us, shoppers staring dumbfounded at the falling shutters and the guard barrelling towards our location. He screeched into his radio for backup as he advanced upon us.
Pegg took careful aim and fired a single shot. The guard went down face first into a gumball machine, the brightly coloured balls scattering wildly about him. I stopped drinking the milkshake and stood frozen to the spot, unsure whether to stay put or run for my life. With a look of intense concentration a toddler took advantage of this windfall via bullet and reached out and scooped up a single yellow gumball before a shrieking partent whipped him away. People ran. Slipped on the marble floors. Collided with each other. Pegg holstered his gun, turned towards me and grinned. He held his hand out.
The last shutter slammed down behind us, sealing us in, away from the guards and the rest of humanity. I dropped the shake and took his hand. We ran.
Pegg let out an ecstatic laugh as we dodged a black plastic dog begging for Guide Dogs… and then I was laughing as he blew raspberries on my stomach. Pegg took the seemingly absent Patrick’s role as huggable object, wrapped up with me under the constellation of dots that cover my duvet. We were laughing a lot as we rolled around in the duvet, until we heard sounds coming down the hall towards our room.
I pushed Pegg under the duvet, whereupon he seemed to disappear- the duvet went flat and I was alone in my bed. I held my breath… the door opened and I was greeted by the rather stern face of one of the security guards from earlier on, flanked by several similarly ashen-faced colleagues. I pulled the duvet a little higher up my naked self.
The guard flicked his gaze over the small room and seemingly satisfied gently closed the door. I heard footsteps going down the stairs and the front door shut and then I was left in silence. I sank back into the pillow and stared at the ceiling relieved. Pegg’s form erupted from under the duvet. He was red faced as if he had been holding his breath.
“That was close.”
I said nothing. He moved up next to me and ran his fingers through my hair before submerging beneath the dots and running his hands over my body. I let my head fall back further into the pillow and grinned…
When he came up for air he kissed my nose and said
“I just wanted to be able to say that I copped a feel of Marge Simpson.”
Then I was alone browsing junk on the internets, internally debating whether or not I should attempt to add Pegg as a friend on Facebook, being that he’s a celebrity and all. I wasn’t sure I qualified, but figured I had an in as he felt me up.
This is what I awoke from this morning. Fuck knows.
I spent most of my day today slathered in sunscreen and encased in lamé reading Spillane. I had a very enjoyable day. I stared at the swifts scything overhead and enjoyed the vivid green of the plants above me. I daydreamt of gentle yet firm fingers slowly rubbing sunscreen into the skin on my shoulders and my back.
The splendid view above me.
As usual, I wasn’t able to strip down to the bikini, but I showed more skin than I usually do- The bees and butterflies were witness.
I spied a tiny white spider that was hiding in some daisies.
Caversham Princess was overly kind and rounded off an excellent day by cooking me steak. Mmmm…
After lying awake until around 4am thinking I fiiinally dropped off. Then I was off dahn tahn to the Job Centre Plus to sign on. A security guard followed me up in the lift- how’s that for service. I don’t think i’ve been to any government place with as much security.
Although I am totally entitled to free money, I felt like a big old fraud sitting in the offices, given that I have a job starting next month. I will be amazed if I get any cash or help with my rent or council tax. It will be really good if I can though…
I feel better today. Still not entirely right but i’ve not shed any tears and was able to sit outside in the sun and read Spillane for a good couple of hours without unpleasant thoughts intruding. Maybe stuff was building up or something. I don’t know.
I feel a little withdrawn, but other than that okay. Sort of neutral, calm; I’m past the spazzing out. I’m resigned to being buttoned-up when I next encounter MW#1; it’s not like I haven’t been through this before.
clayton james cubitt – beautiful photography of a sometimes intimate nature
JPG Magazine: Brave New Photography – submit your images and writing
Skull-A-Day – like it says on the tin
Myrmecochory – seed dispersion via ant
Bobby Convey is the proud beneficiary of an interesting selection of drugs and all seems to be well. Huzzah.
I spent the day feeling inexplicably sad. I lay in bed and hugged Patrick and stared at the wall. I pondered. I read Spillane for short periods, but I went back to pondering as I found I couldn’t concentrate for very long as thoughts kept intruding. I observed that when crying, my mouth curves like it is a rubber band, like I am an upset toddler.
Eventually I dragged myself into the shower. I stood under the warm, comforting spray and hugged myself; I tasted the hot tears that ran down the back of my throat and marvelled at their salinity.
I read the new Ikea catalogue from cover to cover without a shred of emotion (black seems to be the new, erm, black). I cooked and ate food that was unsatisfying. I curled up with Patrick again and I felt very small.
Job centre tomorrow. Woo.
Today I feel rubbish. Ugh.
My smooth legs mock me at every movement. I think from now on whenever I meet with MW#1 I will stick to my usual full-coverage uniform of trousers and a t-shirt.
Bobby Convey is going to the Chop Shop today- I wish her well.
WARNING- Written whilst under the influence
So after letting me down thrice I met up for precisely two drinks with MW#1.
I truly have rocks in my head.
I managed to hold it together on the bus back; once I had locked my front door I started to sob. Why? There are many reasons.
I had cried my mascara off, so job done there, nevertheless I scrubbed my face, removed my relatively feminine clothes as quickly as I could tear them off myself and climbed into my sameold kickboxing trousers and t-shirt.
Bad, silly Monky for attempting to dress up and look nice- Stupid, STUPID Monky. How dare you attempt to look in any small way feminine and make an effort. Shaved your stupid self, wore a goddamned skirt. You fucking idiot.
There was an excellent moment during the course of conversation where it was suggested that as I lack people to go out with I could go and drink on my own and watch people try and chat me up. This was a BAD thing to talk about.
In the silence that followed my rant about drunken twats trying to chat me up I was asked why i’d become so quiet. I was “pondering… things” I replied. This was not entirely an untruth, in that I was thinking about something, but not entirely true when being forthcoming. I was actually thinking that I didn’t want anyone to chat me up because I was happy sitting there with him but mainly about how when I am out for a rare evening with the ladies no one ever approaches me unless they are drunk. No-one gives a fuck the rest of the time. Oh, and that ultimately includes MW#1.
The man I care for deeply. Whose excuses I never believe. Whose compliments I try SO HARD to ignore. Who I feel taken for granted by yet intimately cared for.
I think the crux of the problem i.e. the way I feel, is that there is such an imbalance in the friendship/non-relationship. For example, if I invite him out, I have come to expect that he’ll takes days to reply or cancel; conversely he invites me out and there’s no problem. My feelings slip out and I feel like I have done a terrible thing, he has paid me many compliments in the past, many more than I have paid him as I am afraid of “the inappropriateness”.
If I take the initiative it falls flat. I end up hating myself for even attempting to do so.
Take for example the last two weeks. Two weeks ago, after telling me that he couldn’t get enough of me, I told MW#1 that Caversham Princess was going to be away this past Thursday to Sunday, so that he could come over for dinner. After I returned from Berlin I again mentioned that my house would be free. He replied that he was not entirely sure of his schedule at the current time but that he would indeed take advantage of the situation. So, as he wasn’t sure at the time, I decided to wait for him to get in touch with me to sort things out.
Wednesday I hear nothing… Thursday… it gets to Friday night. I text him asking him if I should be planning to cook, as I need the notice, or I should be doing the same thing I do practically every day, i.e. nothing. Oh, he’s sorry… I shouldn’t plan to cook as he forgot I was “about”… “we” will arrange to view some wrestling.
So there I am, alone in the dark in front of Sideways, reading “Oops. Never mind, a session of watching wrestling will make up for my letting her down. She will be okay. No commitments towards her anyway. Now let me get back to what I was in the middle of…”
This made me upset, then furious. It’s the being let down that hurts me the most.
Before we were intimately involved I used to get excited about seeing him, going round his place, talking about rubbish and watching wrestling. This went on for years before anything happened- I very much enjoyed the time I spent with him, and I looked forward to our meetings. Even then, I cared very much for him. So it’s not the intimacy that’s fucked things up as such, at least from my point-of-view I don’t think so. It’s almost like he’s become less reliable as a friend ever since he got his hands on me- Maybe my expectations have been raised, but again I do not think so. I have worked hard to keep undemanding.
Why don’t I tell him how I feel? Well, as we are not in any sort of relationship, I cannot demand anything of him. I feel unable to share feelings that are classed as inappropriate.
The dumbest part of the whole thing is that as much as he can make me unhappy, he is very dear to me and he’d leave a terrible void in my life if he were missing from it.
When we left the bar (apparently because he had work he needed to do) I felt awkward and somewhat pained. I tucked myself inside myself, knowing to smile at his jokes and where to place my hands when I hugged him goodbye. Like I was a robot going through the motions, just a shell that knows how to act.
So I came home wanting to punch the walls and feeling horrifically, pathetically sorry for myself.
Woah. I have just been ambushed by Hulk Hogan selling his grills on QVC. It’s amazing. He looks so wonderfully freakish when standing next to the small, pale, regular-sized British studio presenters. Also, he keeps adding the suffix -mania/ac to whatever words he can mangle. Genius.
“Whatcha gonna do, when Hulk Hogan’s Ultimate Grill runs wild on you?!” Indeed.
Now he’s talking about caravanning! Oh he’s such a pro. I keep having to change the channel because I can’t stop laughing and I really don’t want to wet myself.