Is it better to tell the truth and be hated or lie and be liked?
I asked this question a few weeks ago to my fellow classmates. The vast majority quickly decided it was better to lie and be liked. C1 and Myself chose the other option. Should I be worried at the number of people who would, it seems, chose dishonesty in order to feed their vanity?
I can understand why people want to be liked. I like to be liked, in fact I'm sure we all do. Because, although I don't really believe in definitions, I believe it to be an universal truth. That all our insecurities stem from what other people think about us. And no matter how secure we are within ourselves, we all want to be seen in the best light and admired for what we do.
If we rigidly stick to the truth, on the other hand, there is fear that people might never forgive us, that we might lose a friend of five or that people may become vary when speaking with us. Being blunt, it is my view, is a gift of the highest order. To tell it how is it is such an admirable quality because with this comes a certain confidence. Of course, nobody truly know what constitutes right and wrong or what indeed is normal. So we can base this entirely on our opinion.
Consequently, if all in life is relative (because nobody in this world is free from bias), it strikes me that people may disagree with your opinion, or perhaps even be hurt by it, but ultimately, it's your opinion and nothing more.
And also, if people are happy only when they hear good things about themselves, what does this say about them? If nobody tells us what is wrong, how are we to ever improve?
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Spurt (pun always intended)
Half an hour ago I had one cock in my mouth, my own cock in the perfect pussy while a third man pissed in my ear.
There, I thought that might catch your attention.
The reason I love Shilpa Shetty so much is because she has character, elegance and beauty (throughout). As an ambassador for Indians generally nobody can deny she has done a remarkable job. And while many of you may be tired of hearing just how dignified she is, you can bloody well hear it once more. Personally, I think the fact that none of Sunday's top three winners were British says something all in itself. Do we really want to represented by the three witches with a capital B (as spoken by Edwina Currie herself)? Are there no Britons who can make the country look good?
And for all those people who believe Shilpa won with a vote of sympathy this is what I have say: Shilpa won not because people felt sorry for her, but because people felt proud of her and proud to be in a world where people like her exist. And as for all the rumours that it was all fixed. Let's move on shall we?
Although nobody can deny Channel 4 has a lot to answer for, I believe the decision to broadcast reality TV as it was is a brave decision. In fact, as Cordelia suggested, the Big Brother house represented a snap shot of today's Britain. It's the truth I have come to realise.
May Shilpa have global success and win an Oscar.
Another completely different point....
I have become rather infatuated with this guy who studies with me. Mental note: must stop looking in that perv-fashion for fear of being arrested. Must try harder to get a sexuality sign from him and then either a)make some move or b) keep well away and revise for exams.
How about a note over the desk sometime in the future...
'This may sound a little strange but are you gay? If you are, how about coffee? If you're not, can I turn you? If not, sorry.'
There, I thought that might catch your attention.
The reason I love Shilpa Shetty so much is because she has character, elegance and beauty (throughout). As an ambassador for Indians generally nobody can deny she has done a remarkable job. And while many of you may be tired of hearing just how dignified she is, you can bloody well hear it once more. Personally, I think the fact that none of Sunday's top three winners were British says something all in itself. Do we really want to represented by the three witches with a capital B (as spoken by Edwina Currie herself)? Are there no Britons who can make the country look good?
And for all those people who believe Shilpa won with a vote of sympathy this is what I have say: Shilpa won not because people felt sorry for her, but because people felt proud of her and proud to be in a world where people like her exist. And as for all the rumours that it was all fixed. Let's move on shall we?
Although nobody can deny Channel 4 has a lot to answer for, I believe the decision to broadcast reality TV as it was is a brave decision. In fact, as Cordelia suggested, the Big Brother house represented a snap shot of today's Britain. It's the truth I have come to realise.
May Shilpa have global success and win an Oscar.
Another completely different point....
I have become rather infatuated with this guy who studies with me. Mental note: must stop looking in that perv-fashion for fear of being arrested. Must try harder to get a sexuality sign from him and then either a)make some move or b) keep well away and revise for exams.
How about a note over the desk sometime in the future...
'This may sound a little strange but are you gay? If you are, how about coffee? If you're not, can I turn you? If not, sorry.'
Gumtree
Ah, it has been absolutely ages since I last Gumtreed by way to bed. And this ad caught my attention.
'I am a married bi guy working in SE1. If you can accommodate and would like a regular blow job then reply. Black, Asian or Oriental guys especially welcome. I want a guy to text me in the morning and demand i come round at lunchtime to suck him off. Also if required i can dress up in my wife's underwear to add spice to the role play.'
Fear not, I have no intention of pursuing this one.
Although, I did reply to a certain three earlier this evening.
'I am a married bi guy working in SE1. If you can accommodate and would like a regular blow job then reply. Black, Asian or Oriental guys especially welcome. I want a guy to text me in the morning and demand i come round at lunchtime to suck him off. Also if required i can dress up in my wife's underwear to add spice to the role play.'
Fear not, I have no intention of pursuing this one.
Although, I did reply to a certain three earlier this evening.
Me Me Me
I don’t think I mentioned my joint birthday celebration with the people I currently study alongside. I had great fun. The venue was Las Iguanas, Waterloo. The conversation ranged from study to absurd, as I’m sure you’re fully able to imagine.
A girl in my class and I share birthday’s within a couple of weeks of each other you see. The food in that place is delicious, I would highly recommend it; even if South American/Spanish cuisine doesn’t feature highly on your list of edible priorities.
And then I was at home over the weekend for yet another birthday celebration. I seemed to eat a lot alongside contemplating my fate, what with the exams looming in the not so very distant future. Tonight I’m going my Christianity Exploration evening and for the first time I think I may just ask JC for a push in the right direction.
I received a complete collectors edition of Six Feet Under. What was I? Extremely impressed on the verge of tears, almost. To say it was the best thing I’ve ever seen on television might be an understatement, though it strikes me as rather odd and silly that so many people are so very clueless as to the weird grace of this programme. Needless to say, if any of you have ever seen it, I’m sure you’ll agree with me that it’s an essential dietary requirement for the classy coach potato. Superlative acting, huge doses of black humour and from the makers of American Beauty (aka perfection). And all this drivel about perfection being relative…whatever.
You know the thing I most like about Birthdays is that for once in your life you celebrate yourself. When else do people cancel their plans so that they can congratulate you on your birth? In my experience, not very often. When you marry you celebrate your half of the marriage and your partner. When you have a child, you celebrate the child and when you die..well, you die, so who cares? Being the necessarily selfish bugger that I am, it strikes me that if I don’t big up individual greed, nobody else will.
Did I mention how much money I received? Enough to buy a funkay leather jacket. And all of a sudden the boy band look was complete.
Amen indeed.
A girl in my class and I share birthday’s within a couple of weeks of each other you see. The food in that place is delicious, I would highly recommend it; even if South American/Spanish cuisine doesn’t feature highly on your list of edible priorities.
And then I was at home over the weekend for yet another birthday celebration. I seemed to eat a lot alongside contemplating my fate, what with the exams looming in the not so very distant future. Tonight I’m going my Christianity Exploration evening and for the first time I think I may just ask JC for a push in the right direction.
I received a complete collectors edition of Six Feet Under. What was I? Extremely impressed on the verge of tears, almost. To say it was the best thing I’ve ever seen on television might be an understatement, though it strikes me as rather odd and silly that so many people are so very clueless as to the weird grace of this programme. Needless to say, if any of you have ever seen it, I’m sure you’ll agree with me that it’s an essential dietary requirement for the classy coach potato. Superlative acting, huge doses of black humour and from the makers of American Beauty (aka perfection). And all this drivel about perfection being relative…whatever.
You know the thing I most like about Birthdays is that for once in your life you celebrate yourself. When else do people cancel their plans so that they can congratulate you on your birth? In my experience, not very often. When you marry you celebrate your half of the marriage and your partner. When you have a child, you celebrate the child and when you die..well, you die, so who cares? Being the necessarily selfish bugger that I am, it strikes me that if I don’t big up individual greed, nobody else will.
Did I mention how much money I received? Enough to buy a funkay leather jacket. And all of a sudden the boy band look was complete.
Amen indeed.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Sperm : the things you always wanted to know
The Facts
. Sperm is produced at an average rate of 1,500 per second per testicle.
· It takes about 100 days for sperm to form and mature.
· The average ejaculation contains about a teaspoonful of semen, which contains 200-500 million sperm.
· Because sperm are so tiny, they account for only about 1/10 of the volume of semen. The rest is fluid from the seminal vesicles and prostate gland.
· If an average ejaculation filled an Olympic sized swimming pool, each sperm cell would be smaller than a goldfish.
· The average time a sperm survives in the female reproductive tract is 3 to 4 days.
· Sperm can live in the man’s body up for up to 6 months.
· Sperm aren’t ejaculated get broken down and reabsorbed or are washed away in urine.
· Men can’t run out of sperm. Masturbation and sex doesn’t use up sperm. The body keeps making sperm as long as a man has one testicle (hurrah!)
· Sperm have a 6 inch swim to reach the woman’s egg. This is equal to 10- mile swim for a man.At least 32 different chemicals have been found in semen. They include more than 20 amino acids, glucose, citric acid, fructose, Vitamin C, Vitamin B12, Potassium, Calcium and Copper.
. Ejaculate does not have a significant amount of calories. You'd have to ingest 400 loads to equal the calorie content of a "death by chocolate" dessert (Weight watchers would be so proud - nil points for a mouthful).
Does semen have a typical look, smell and taste?
Semen usually appears as an opalescent white fluid that gets clear and runny within minutes after ejaculation. Often, semen has an odor that resembles chlorine. And the different parts of semen have different tastes. "For example, the component from the seminal vesicle, which is high in fructose [sugar], will be slightly sweeter than the rest of the fluid," Dr. Lowe explains. That said, semen characteristics do vary from person to person, month to month. Small changes in color, smell or taste are not necessarily cause for alarm, adds Dr. Goldstone.
Blood in your semen can signal a broken blood vessel, which may result from the force of your ejaculation. If this is the case, the blood will usually subside after a couple of days. You should contact your doctor if your semen continues to look brown or red, because this may signal an infection of the prostate or seminal vesicle, says Dr. Lowe. A yellowish or greenish discharge from the urethra is frequently a sign of gonorrhea, a sexually transmitted disease (STD) that can be cured with antibiotics.
Also consult your doctor if your ejaculate has a strong, foul smell. This, too, could be a sign of a prostate infection.
Don't say I never share my knowledge.
. Sperm is produced at an average rate of 1,500 per second per testicle.
· It takes about 100 days for sperm to form and mature.
· The average ejaculation contains about a teaspoonful of semen, which contains 200-500 million sperm.
· Because sperm are so tiny, they account for only about 1/10 of the volume of semen. The rest is fluid from the seminal vesicles and prostate gland.
· If an average ejaculation filled an Olympic sized swimming pool, each sperm cell would be smaller than a goldfish.
· The average time a sperm survives in the female reproductive tract is 3 to 4 days.
· Sperm can live in the man’s body up for up to 6 months.
· Sperm aren’t ejaculated get broken down and reabsorbed or are washed away in urine.
· Men can’t run out of sperm. Masturbation and sex doesn’t use up sperm. The body keeps making sperm as long as a man has one testicle (hurrah!)
· Sperm have a 6 inch swim to reach the woman’s egg. This is equal to 10- mile swim for a man.At least 32 different chemicals have been found in semen. They include more than 20 amino acids, glucose, citric acid, fructose, Vitamin C, Vitamin B12, Potassium, Calcium and Copper.
. Ejaculate does not have a significant amount of calories. You'd have to ingest 400 loads to equal the calorie content of a "death by chocolate" dessert (Weight watchers would be so proud - nil points for a mouthful).
Does semen have a typical look, smell and taste?
Semen usually appears as an opalescent white fluid that gets clear and runny within minutes after ejaculation. Often, semen has an odor that resembles chlorine. And the different parts of semen have different tastes. "For example, the component from the seminal vesicle, which is high in fructose [sugar], will be slightly sweeter than the rest of the fluid," Dr. Lowe explains. That said, semen characteristics do vary from person to person, month to month. Small changes in color, smell or taste are not necessarily cause for alarm, adds Dr. Goldstone.
Blood in your semen can signal a broken blood vessel, which may result from the force of your ejaculation. If this is the case, the blood will usually subside after a couple of days. You should contact your doctor if your semen continues to look brown or red, because this may signal an infection of the prostate or seminal vesicle, says Dr. Lowe. A yellowish or greenish discharge from the urethra is frequently a sign of gonorrhea, a sexually transmitted disease (STD) that can be cured with antibiotics.
Also consult your doctor if your ejaculate has a strong, foul smell. This, too, could be a sign of a prostate infection.
Don't say I never share my knowledge.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Can't get rid
In London, it strikes me, you could spend years living at the same address and never even meet your next door neighbour. Your best friend might also live two streets away and you could go a whole year without actually making it to their house. I guess what I'm trying to say is that London is bigger than any of us can possibly imagine.
So imagine my surprise last week when I went to the cinema (alone) and found myself walking through Leicester square in the darkness of winter only to catch of glimpse of somebody I was sure I recognised.
Yes, hidden beneath the trees, perched on top of a bench like a lump of annoying gum we could all do without, it was The Norwegian. Needless to say, I doubt anybody has ever walked with such ferocious rapidity through Leicester Square. Quicker than you could say come. And soon he was too far away and I doubt he'd seen me. He was with some other guy, no doubt coercing him into send frequent dick over his new Nokia.
So imagine my surprise last week when I went to the cinema (alone) and found myself walking through Leicester square in the darkness of winter only to catch of glimpse of somebody I was sure I recognised.
Yes, hidden beneath the trees, perched on top of a bench like a lump of annoying gum we could all do without, it was The Norwegian. Needless to say, I doubt anybody has ever walked with such ferocious rapidity through Leicester Square. Quicker than you could say come. And soon he was too far away and I doubt he'd seen me. He was with some other guy, no doubt coercing him into send frequent dick over his new Nokia.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Christianity Explored Verse III
Perhaps the most controversial week to date.
The crux (no pun intended) of the matter it would seem is that we are living in a world which is full of sin. We are sinners. In fact, we're in a dismall state of affairs from our birth onwards.
'Imagine you're at the beach and you go out swimming. Gradually, the waves get stronger, as does the current, and you've underestimated how far away from the shore you've actually come. You realise that you'll drown if nobody comes to save you. Now imagine how you might feel. This is the reason we need Jesus Christ to save us.' This is what the leader of the group said as we sat around out tables post-supper.
Later that evening...
'Why is it only when things have gotten so bad that we think of God? Why do things have to bea matter of life over death, so to speak, before our faith is formed?' i asked, in reference to the example illustrated before.
'I think what he was trying to say, was that we're already at that place' said another guy on my table.
'Oh.'
You know, it's such a dire set of circumstances to find outserlves in, if it's all true. What Christianity enforces is the view that we must first accept how far into the depths of sin we've come in order to appreciate the significance of what Jesus Christ can do for us.
I look at it as having two choices...
The crux (no pun intended) of the matter it would seem is that we are living in a world which is full of sin. We are sinners. In fact, we're in a dismall state of affairs from our birth onwards.
'Imagine you're at the beach and you go out swimming. Gradually, the waves get stronger, as does the current, and you've underestimated how far away from the shore you've actually come. You realise that you'll drown if nobody comes to save you. Now imagine how you might feel. This is the reason we need Jesus Christ to save us.' This is what the leader of the group said as we sat around out tables post-supper.
Later that evening...
'Why is it only when things have gotten so bad that we think of God? Why do things have to bea matter of life over death, so to speak, before our faith is formed?' i asked, in reference to the example illustrated before.
'I think what he was trying to say, was that we're already at that place' said another guy on my table.
'Oh.'
You know, it's such a dire set of circumstances to find outserlves in, if it's all true. What Christianity enforces is the view that we must first accept how far into the depths of sin we've come in order to appreciate the significance of what Jesus Christ can do for us.
I look at it as having two choices...
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Thoughts
1) Tall, slender men with a good sack are difficult to come by (Jack’s display, or not, on last night’s Big Brother is ample support for this). When I say slender, I don’t mean a broom stick, I mean somebody who matches me. Is it superficial to want a partner who’ll give you the artistic appeal of a perfect couple? Absolutely not.
2) Length over girth: long can often hurt, granted. But stubby trunk can be one of the biggest disappointments you’ll ever suffer. A nice mix of the two is always good enough to play with. I’ve come to think of cocks are objects; toys with which to play, sources of exploration. Like Lego, sort of. If only we could stack one of top of another to build a castle. Science (aka Ann Summers) will find a way I’m positive.
3) Legs of arse? The question on everyone’s lips. Legs that belong to Naomi Campbell (perfectly adjusted to meet my 5 ft 10), figure of Penelope Cruz and then all the panache of Shilpa Shetty. I’d be in heaven were this to materialise. Of course, one can’t help but wonder what the male equivalent might look like. A slightly deformed Alsatian-looking man perhaps?
4) Find somebody with at least a hundred brain cells. We need thought before action, we need art before circumstance, we need brain before bollocks….no really. It would appear I can’t stress this enough. But I believe the firmer brain is a winner hands down. Hats off to the boy who has it all, or girl for that matter.
5) Must set achievable ambitions both for the short term and the long term. First things first, I’ve exhausted the Dame-fanny-want-a-look ambition. She can have it! So here goes:
Win a Literary Award.
Hold an art exhibition and be the new craze for a while, with Naomi Campbell buying some of my works.
Sort out career.
Do things to make myself increasingly happy (being selfish is totally acceptable as long as nobody is hurt in the process).
Partake in an orgy - this one’s a biggie. If anybody would like to go with me, I’d be more than happy to tag along for the ride.
6) What on earth has gotten into Channel 4? All this hoo haa. It’s reality TV. So please, let us watch it and if we complain, deal with it accordingly.
7) Big Brother, Shilpa or Dirk to win. Beauty and brains over thick calculating people anyday.
You know, it’s one of those busy periods. So busy there’s hardly any time to gulp for breath because if you do, you might just miss the last tube home. And that’s why I haven’t been as ‘regular’ with this blog as I may have liked. I do understand that this is a sacred space and try my hardest to respect it. As soon as I have a tad more time I’ll be a daily blogger I promise.
Until then
Ciao
2) Length over girth: long can often hurt, granted. But stubby trunk can be one of the biggest disappointments you’ll ever suffer. A nice mix of the two is always good enough to play with. I’ve come to think of cocks are objects; toys with which to play, sources of exploration. Like Lego, sort of. If only we could stack one of top of another to build a castle. Science (aka Ann Summers) will find a way I’m positive.
3) Legs of arse? The question on everyone’s lips. Legs that belong to Naomi Campbell (perfectly adjusted to meet my 5 ft 10), figure of Penelope Cruz and then all the panache of Shilpa Shetty. I’d be in heaven were this to materialise. Of course, one can’t help but wonder what the male equivalent might look like. A slightly deformed Alsatian-looking man perhaps?
4) Find somebody with at least a hundred brain cells. We need thought before action, we need art before circumstance, we need brain before bollocks….no really. It would appear I can’t stress this enough. But I believe the firmer brain is a winner hands down. Hats off to the boy who has it all, or girl for that matter.
5) Must set achievable ambitions both for the short term and the long term. First things first, I’ve exhausted the Dame-fanny-want-a-look ambition. She can have it! So here goes:
Win a Literary Award.
Hold an art exhibition and be the new craze for a while, with Naomi Campbell buying some of my works.
Sort out career.
Do things to make myself increasingly happy (being selfish is totally acceptable as long as nobody is hurt in the process).
Partake in an orgy - this one’s a biggie. If anybody would like to go with me, I’d be more than happy to tag along for the ride.
6) What on earth has gotten into Channel 4? All this hoo haa. It’s reality TV. So please, let us watch it and if we complain, deal with it accordingly.
7) Big Brother, Shilpa or Dirk to win. Beauty and brains over thick calculating people anyday.
You know, it’s one of those busy periods. So busy there’s hardly any time to gulp for breath because if you do, you might just miss the last tube home. And that’s why I haven’t been as ‘regular’ with this blog as I may have liked. I do understand that this is a sacred space and try my hardest to respect it. As soon as I have a tad more time I’ll be a daily blogger I promise.
Until then
Ciao
Monday, January 22, 2007
progression
Adriana has been on 8 dates with the same guy. 7 of these took place before our last slag meeting and one between that time and the time of my birthday. Over dinner I asked whether things had progressed and although I remain unsure whether they have, she has left me wondering…
During the slag meeting Adriana was puzzled why the boy hadn’t tried anything (including holding hands or kissing) when they had progressed to date No 7.
How many dates before we can define the relationship as non-progressive and move on? I was thinking 5. 7 seems rather excessive.
And what about the girl who doesn’t make a move and waits for the man to do absolutely everything? Surely women with a little spunk is what most guys are after.
Girl with spunk – conversation #1
‘What do you want me to do?’ asked the boy
‘Rip my panties off, tie me to the wardrobe and do all those things you wanted to with your last girlfriend but couldn’t.’
‘What? A tit-wank and everything?’ said he brimming with exciting.
‘Everything! Absolutely everything.’
Girl without spunk – conversation #1
‘what do you want me to do?’ asked the boy
‘Um, I don’t know, what shall we do?’
‘Whatever you want to.’
‘Um, let’s kiss.’
Girls with spunk generally get more in proportion to their relative enthusiasm. Strange that.
During the slag meeting Adriana was puzzled why the boy hadn’t tried anything (including holding hands or kissing) when they had progressed to date No 7.
How many dates before we can define the relationship as non-progressive and move on? I was thinking 5. 7 seems rather excessive.
And what about the girl who doesn’t make a move and waits for the man to do absolutely everything? Surely women with a little spunk is what most guys are after.
Girl with spunk – conversation #1
‘What do you want me to do?’ asked the boy
‘Rip my panties off, tie me to the wardrobe and do all those things you wanted to with your last girlfriend but couldn’t.’
‘What? A tit-wank and everything?’ said he brimming with exciting.
‘Everything! Absolutely everything.’
Girl without spunk – conversation #1
‘what do you want me to do?’ asked the boy
‘Um, I don’t know, what shall we do?’
‘Whatever you want to.’
‘Um, let’s kiss.’
Girls with spunk generally get more in proportion to their relative enthusiasm. Strange that.
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Birthday
Okay, a year older, the skin a year firmer, the mind a year wiser, the ambitions a year increased.
Had what would best be described as non-slag meeting. 11 people (a few slags and all in all a promising turn out for a new Londoner) including myself. The venue was a Thai restaurant called ‘Anakana’ on Old Street. So, company was good, food was good-ish (not sure about thai to be perfectly honest – could be the basil, might be the coconut- but something isn’t quite right for my taste buds). All in all a great night however and value for money for a restaurant so plush. Desdemona and Arthur were truly missed.
And it was busy (and I was late), so the food took forever to get to our table. Never mind, we were given two complimentary bottles of champagne as a result and so we were fairly content. I guess the truth of the matter is the party was successful because the people were successful, because I mixed all of my friends up and they all seemed to get along and have a good time. And for that I’m happy.
And then a friend of mine stayed over at my flat and we drank Bloody Marys and orange n vodkas until 3am. This friend doesn’t know about the blog. In fact, she has no clue that I’m writing about her half an hour after dropping her off at the train station, for the world to read. I won’t tell her, as she’s the sort of girl who’d feel like I’ve left her out of some secret world. She’ll wonder why she doesn’t feature, or why so much has happened without my telling her about it. Sometimes, the people you know the longest are the people you find it most difficult to tell. Hence I’m eaten up with the guilt of not telling Cordelia for fear of rejection. Is a blog really worth a failed friendship? Not yet.
C1 and C2 also made it last night, not a single cross or bible in sight.
To all of you who came and who will read this entry, thank you. And to those who won’t thank you too.
Oh yes, M informs me that I’m now at an age which is also a prime number. Putting aside any mathematical relations, I would take this to indicate that I’m at a juncture in my life which is crucial to my development. Last year was perhaps the best year of my life. This year has most certainly got to be better. I’m currently thinking of the 23 promised I’ll make to myself for each of my years. Will keep you all up to date.
Had what would best be described as non-slag meeting. 11 people (a few slags and all in all a promising turn out for a new Londoner) including myself. The venue was a Thai restaurant called ‘Anakana’ on Old Street. So, company was good, food was good-ish (not sure about thai to be perfectly honest – could be the basil, might be the coconut- but something isn’t quite right for my taste buds). All in all a great night however and value for money for a restaurant so plush. Desdemona and Arthur were truly missed.
And it was busy (and I was late), so the food took forever to get to our table. Never mind, we were given two complimentary bottles of champagne as a result and so we were fairly content. I guess the truth of the matter is the party was successful because the people were successful, because I mixed all of my friends up and they all seemed to get along and have a good time. And for that I’m happy.
And then a friend of mine stayed over at my flat and we drank Bloody Marys and orange n vodkas until 3am. This friend doesn’t know about the blog. In fact, she has no clue that I’m writing about her half an hour after dropping her off at the train station, for the world to read. I won’t tell her, as she’s the sort of girl who’d feel like I’ve left her out of some secret world. She’ll wonder why she doesn’t feature, or why so much has happened without my telling her about it. Sometimes, the people you know the longest are the people you find it most difficult to tell. Hence I’m eaten up with the guilt of not telling Cordelia for fear of rejection. Is a blog really worth a failed friendship? Not yet.
C1 and C2 also made it last night, not a single cross or bible in sight.
To all of you who came and who will read this entry, thank you. And to those who won’t thank you too.
Oh yes, M informs me that I’m now at an age which is also a prime number. Putting aside any mathematical relations, I would take this to indicate that I’m at a juncture in my life which is crucial to my development. Last year was perhaps the best year of my life. This year has most certainly got to be better. I’m currently thinking of the 23 promised I’ll make to myself for each of my years. Will keep you all up to date.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Christianity Exploration Verse II
‘The thing about Christianity is that I’ve always considered it to be a judgemental religion’.
I must say, it comes across that way sometimes. We have the absolute truth and the relative truth. Christians believe Christianity is the only truth. People who therefore believe something different and misguided and wrong. In comparison, I am a Hindu. Hinduism is a relative truth. I am fully able to believe, and do, that other religions exist and that there is one God worshipped by people through different religious media. The difference with Christianity is that Christianity, according to its worshippers, is the only valid religion. Whereas I admire the faith displayed by Christians at the classes I attend, I don’t know whether the case for Christianity is convincing enough. Religion is a man made concept after all.
Surely, tolerance comes when people have their own religious views but are also willing to accept that other religious beliefs may also exist and may also be true. Happiness within your own faith as opposed to happiness which you feel should be embraced by one and all is the true success of religion in my view. For if you have faith, then things are true. Is the Christian view religion true to its core, or is it judgemental?
It surprised me further when two of the ladies in my ‘group’ asked why sex outside marriage wasn’t permissible under the Bible. I would never have any such question for fear of being crucified myself, but when it was indeed asked, my ears plucked up as I’m sure you can imagine.
‘Imagine two pieces of paper (one blue and one pink she added, very kindly) stuck together with glue. This is what happens when two people have sex. Now, if I were to try to separate the two pieces of paper, some of the pink is bound to remain on the blue paper.’
Hmm, I think I understand. Though, sex, intimacy and love and completely different things. And I’m sure some people can tear themselves apart without single even a single trace of pink.
So, all in all, it was an informative session. The people are very nice I must admit, and so diverse. And it’s always nice to throw in a difficult question now and then.
I asked a lawyer who attends what made him come to these sessions.
‘I made a promise to my ex girlfriend who I now want to be my girlfriend again’ came the response.
We both moved swiftly on…
I must say, it comes across that way sometimes. We have the absolute truth and the relative truth. Christians believe Christianity is the only truth. People who therefore believe something different and misguided and wrong. In comparison, I am a Hindu. Hinduism is a relative truth. I am fully able to believe, and do, that other religions exist and that there is one God worshipped by people through different religious media. The difference with Christianity is that Christianity, according to its worshippers, is the only valid religion. Whereas I admire the faith displayed by Christians at the classes I attend, I don’t know whether the case for Christianity is convincing enough. Religion is a man made concept after all.
Surely, tolerance comes when people have their own religious views but are also willing to accept that other religious beliefs may also exist and may also be true. Happiness within your own faith as opposed to happiness which you feel should be embraced by one and all is the true success of religion in my view. For if you have faith, then things are true. Is the Christian view religion true to its core, or is it judgemental?
It surprised me further when two of the ladies in my ‘group’ asked why sex outside marriage wasn’t permissible under the Bible. I would never have any such question for fear of being crucified myself, but when it was indeed asked, my ears plucked up as I’m sure you can imagine.
‘Imagine two pieces of paper (one blue and one pink she added, very kindly) stuck together with glue. This is what happens when two people have sex. Now, if I were to try to separate the two pieces of paper, some of the pink is bound to remain on the blue paper.’
Hmm, I think I understand. Though, sex, intimacy and love and completely different things. And I’m sure some people can tear themselves apart without single even a single trace of pink.
So, all in all, it was an informative session. The people are very nice I must admit, and so diverse. And it’s always nice to throw in a difficult question now and then.
I asked a lawyer who attends what made him come to these sessions.
‘I made a promise to my ex girlfriend who I now want to be my girlfriend again’ came the response.
We both moved swiftly on…
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Self Love
How much do we love ourselves?
How many times have we had the discussion entitled ‘Do Opposites really attract?’ with out friends? And how many of us have been in relationships (I use the term loosely) where the other person essentially hates everything we do but can’t seem to say no, and vice versa? How many of us are turned on by diversity and see opposites as the beings we wanted to be but never were. Is it fair to define your own happiness through the qualities you lack but which appear in somebody else? Does going out with the Opposite make you the Opposite?
Tis true, boredom comes easily to those in pursuit of happiness-inducing relationships. In fact, boredom comes too easily. Period. Boredom with ourselves, boredom with our life, boredom with the people around us. And so we seek something different and exciting and when we find it, we enjoy it and stick a tag on it ‘relationship’. And it makes us happy, I suppose, this exploration of a world so different from our own. A mind we’re so greedy to enter.
But the novelty that comes with diversity will wear off soon enough. You and I both know that. So, if I were to ask you ‘was it all worth it?’ you might say yes, for now you know what you truly want. And, as ashamed you may be of admitting it, you want somebody just like you. Essentially, it has taken somebody unlike you to teach you just how to appreciate the qualities you yourself possess. And was it necessary? A failed relationship from which you learnt nothing particularly useful? I suppose this question is aimed at people who only go for the black to their white, the tea to their coffee blah blah.
Whereas it’s all very nice and dandy learning about Astrophysics or the virtues of Zoology whilst in a past relationship, the real lesson comes once it’s all over. Once you realise the true ‘one’ is the poet who sat beside all through year three at University. Ah. What a sigh of relief!
So, bringing myself back to the point in question: where does this idea of self love stem from. What is it about us (and many of us are far far from perfect) that means we want to be in a relationship only with people who are similar. I suppose want is the incorrect word when what I mean is need. Whereas the desire to love an Opposite may remain strong and pervasive throughout your life, the reality you imagine for yourself (the happy reality I’m referring to) is always something quite different.
With the separation of life and love in the above manner, one is left with the question why?
I’m sure you’re all aware of Narcissus.
In Greek mythology, Narcissus was a highly attractive man who the Goddess Echo, described as a beautiful nymph, was attracted to. Try so hard did she, to attract the attentions of this man, to get him to love her. But he refused. In fact, Narcissus refused all the beautiful nymphs who tired to woo him their way. And only then did one of them utter a little prayer to the lord:
‘Please Lord, allow Narcissus to feel what it is to love somebody completely, without receiving their love in return. Allow him to face the sadness of unrequited love.’
And so the Lord did.
Cursed was Narcissus to fall in love with the first thing he saw. And as he leaned forward to drink water from a pond, the reflection of himself caught his eye such that he could not tear himself away. Narcissus had fallen in love with himself.
Having engaged with this myth a little, one can’t help but wonder what it was about himself that he fell in love with.
I would imagine a small Narcissus in all of us. Though, I’d hope we’d all draw the line somewhere.
Do we want somebody like ourselves for purposes of familiarity? Or for purposes of security? After all, if we know what to expect, the fear of the unexpected ceases to exist.
How many times have we had the discussion entitled ‘Do Opposites really attract?’ with out friends? And how many of us have been in relationships (I use the term loosely) where the other person essentially hates everything we do but can’t seem to say no, and vice versa? How many of us are turned on by diversity and see opposites as the beings we wanted to be but never were. Is it fair to define your own happiness through the qualities you lack but which appear in somebody else? Does going out with the Opposite make you the Opposite?
Tis true, boredom comes easily to those in pursuit of happiness-inducing relationships. In fact, boredom comes too easily. Period. Boredom with ourselves, boredom with our life, boredom with the people around us. And so we seek something different and exciting and when we find it, we enjoy it and stick a tag on it ‘relationship’. And it makes us happy, I suppose, this exploration of a world so different from our own. A mind we’re so greedy to enter.
But the novelty that comes with diversity will wear off soon enough. You and I both know that. So, if I were to ask you ‘was it all worth it?’ you might say yes, for now you know what you truly want. And, as ashamed you may be of admitting it, you want somebody just like you. Essentially, it has taken somebody unlike you to teach you just how to appreciate the qualities you yourself possess. And was it necessary? A failed relationship from which you learnt nothing particularly useful? I suppose this question is aimed at people who only go for the black to their white, the tea to their coffee blah blah.
Whereas it’s all very nice and dandy learning about Astrophysics or the virtues of Zoology whilst in a past relationship, the real lesson comes once it’s all over. Once you realise the true ‘one’ is the poet who sat beside all through year three at University. Ah. What a sigh of relief!
So, bringing myself back to the point in question: where does this idea of self love stem from. What is it about us (and many of us are far far from perfect) that means we want to be in a relationship only with people who are similar. I suppose want is the incorrect word when what I mean is need. Whereas the desire to love an Opposite may remain strong and pervasive throughout your life, the reality you imagine for yourself (the happy reality I’m referring to) is always something quite different.
With the separation of life and love in the above manner, one is left with the question why?
I’m sure you’re all aware of Narcissus.
In Greek mythology, Narcissus was a highly attractive man who the Goddess Echo, described as a beautiful nymph, was attracted to. Try so hard did she, to attract the attentions of this man, to get him to love her. But he refused. In fact, Narcissus refused all the beautiful nymphs who tired to woo him their way. And only then did one of them utter a little prayer to the lord:
‘Please Lord, allow Narcissus to feel what it is to love somebody completely, without receiving their love in return. Allow him to face the sadness of unrequited love.’
And so the Lord did.
Cursed was Narcissus to fall in love with the first thing he saw. And as he leaned forward to drink water from a pond, the reflection of himself caught his eye such that he could not tear himself away. Narcissus had fallen in love with himself.
Having engaged with this myth a little, one can’t help but wonder what it was about himself that he fell in love with.
I would imagine a small Narcissus in all of us. Though, I’d hope we’d all draw the line somewhere.
Do we want somebody like ourselves for purposes of familiarity? Or for purposes of security? After all, if we know what to expect, the fear of the unexpected ceases to exist.
Monday, January 15, 2007
Poem - The Child of our time
A little something I wrote...
The child of our time
We spoke over a thousand dotted skies,
Who knew the tide could be heard from so far away.
Upon the sheets we gathered, our bodies moist, moist
The words of our world tender, tender
A string of hope run circles around us,
A child of our time, binding us in mischief.
I recall the click of screens
Poised and eager, drenched was I, in the wave that crashed so aimlessly over me
Then, our lives were so eager, eager
And here, our rivers calmer, calmer
A string of hope run circles around us
A child of our time, binding us in mischief
The things left behind, were once the only things we’d save
Like pyramids of time, built upon the dust of longing
Tricks of the mind, the aimless heart, bewildered, bewildered.
The bouncing of a frantic heart, electric, electric
A string of hope run circles around us
A child of our time, binding us in mischief
And there we were, fingers raised to the sky
Mingling, as though in search.
Though happiness was always around.
The child of our time
We spoke over a thousand dotted skies,
Who knew the tide could be heard from so far away.
Upon the sheets we gathered, our bodies moist, moist
The words of our world tender, tender
A string of hope run circles around us,
A child of our time, binding us in mischief.
I recall the click of screens
Poised and eager, drenched was I, in the wave that crashed so aimlessly over me
Then, our lives were so eager, eager
And here, our rivers calmer, calmer
A string of hope run circles around us
A child of our time, binding us in mischief
The things left behind, were once the only things we’d save
Like pyramids of time, built upon the dust of longing
Tricks of the mind, the aimless heart, bewildered, bewildered.
The bouncing of a frantic heart, electric, electric
A string of hope run circles around us
A child of our time, binding us in mischief
And there we were, fingers raised to the sky
Mingling, as though in search.
Though happiness was always around.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Slag Meeting 12th Dec 2007
Nothing’s better than the wind to your back, the sun in front of you, and your friends beside you. - Aaron Douglas Trimble
It was almost a full turn out this time (minus Desdemona who I believe is on holiday somewhere). That is Ophelia, Adriana, The Dame and myself.
It all started with Adriana (who it was great seeing after such a long time) and I going for a cocktail (or four) together at Thirst Bar in Soho. Now, the place was quiet for a Friday night but the cocktails were as delicious as ever. The lesson to be learnt in these occasions before dinner is that one should exercise due care for fear of appearing slightly drunk before the meal have even begun. Having stated that, It doesn’t usually happen so easily. Mental note: must eat some more if planning on cocktails before dinner. Line the stomach.
The ladies were all very understanding of course and dinner we had at a restaurant called ‘Covent Garden Grill’. It’s probably worth mentioning my new love at this point. http://www.toptable.co.uk/ a perfect one stop website for finding the perfect food at the perfect prices. And the three courses we enjoyed for £15 weren’t bad at all, in fact they were well above average.
The conflict of the evening came when The Dame and Ophelia pounced on me for failing to succumb to what, I had failed to notice, was, in their opinions, a chat up line. When somebody asks where you’re from as they feel they’ve seen you before, what precisely does such a question amount to. Is it a declaration of love, a sentence of longing or just something wanting to get something clear in his mind?
The main focus of the evening was however Adriana’s uncompromising race on the road of relationship as she jumps over one relationship hurdle after another in the hope that one day she’ll see the finish line. And each time her confidence goes from strength to strength. Bravo!
On the other hand, we’re all very aware of The Dame trouble and misfortune in this area and I was intent on drumming in the don’t-put-your-eggs (so to speak)-in-one-basket attitude with which she seems to be conducting her life. Now, honestly, dear readers, when did people stop casting their net far and wide and pin all their hopes and dreams on a single email. This is the internet, cut throat and brutal. As easy as it is to click the send button, it’s probably just as easy, if not easier, to hit delete. And this realisation, dear Dame, is what’ll be your salvation.
It’s perfectly true and identifiable that relationships don’t come to those who wait. Like much else is life, nothing ever comes on a plate. We must get out there and find it for ourselves or at least make worthy attempts at securing some meat before the famine kills us. With this in mind, Adriana’s own attempts and method of securing date after date are truly inspirational.
And as much as we’d all love a beautiful demigod to descend from the heavens and declare the love we’ve been craving all along, nothing like this is ever going to happen. You get from the dating scene precisely what you put in. A month ago I would have said being gay might have made it more difficult, but when it comes to sex, I think that would be a lie nobody would be willing to believe.
The Dame has to realise, a date is a date is a date is a date. A date is not life long love, nor does it promise eternal happiness. But if you don’t meet a lot of people, the self confidence keeps dipping and the variety (as stipulated clearly in the rules of the revolution) of it all, well it ceases to exist. It’s true, 7 out of 10 women will bore you to death, but 10 is needed in order to find the perfect 3. You need to sample the whole array of Cadbury’s miniatures in order to establish which one you like the most and which one you like the least, correct?
Plough on…and properly!
It was almost a full turn out this time (minus Desdemona who I believe is on holiday somewhere). That is Ophelia, Adriana, The Dame and myself.
It all started with Adriana (who it was great seeing after such a long time) and I going for a cocktail (or four) together at Thirst Bar in Soho. Now, the place was quiet for a Friday night but the cocktails were as delicious as ever. The lesson to be learnt in these occasions before dinner is that one should exercise due care for fear of appearing slightly drunk before the meal have even begun. Having stated that, It doesn’t usually happen so easily. Mental note: must eat some more if planning on cocktails before dinner. Line the stomach.
The ladies were all very understanding of course and dinner we had at a restaurant called ‘Covent Garden Grill’. It’s probably worth mentioning my new love at this point. http://www.toptable.co.uk/ a perfect one stop website for finding the perfect food at the perfect prices. And the three courses we enjoyed for £15 weren’t bad at all, in fact they were well above average.
The conflict of the evening came when The Dame and Ophelia pounced on me for failing to succumb to what, I had failed to notice, was, in their opinions, a chat up line. When somebody asks where you’re from as they feel they’ve seen you before, what precisely does such a question amount to. Is it a declaration of love, a sentence of longing or just something wanting to get something clear in his mind?
The main focus of the evening was however Adriana’s uncompromising race on the road of relationship as she jumps over one relationship hurdle after another in the hope that one day she’ll see the finish line. And each time her confidence goes from strength to strength. Bravo!
On the other hand, we’re all very aware of The Dame trouble and misfortune in this area and I was intent on drumming in the don’t-put-your-eggs (so to speak)-in-one-basket attitude with which she seems to be conducting her life. Now, honestly, dear readers, when did people stop casting their net far and wide and pin all their hopes and dreams on a single email. This is the internet, cut throat and brutal. As easy as it is to click the send button, it’s probably just as easy, if not easier, to hit delete. And this realisation, dear Dame, is what’ll be your salvation.
It’s perfectly true and identifiable that relationships don’t come to those who wait. Like much else is life, nothing ever comes on a plate. We must get out there and find it for ourselves or at least make worthy attempts at securing some meat before the famine kills us. With this in mind, Adriana’s own attempts and method of securing date after date are truly inspirational.
And as much as we’d all love a beautiful demigod to descend from the heavens and declare the love we’ve been craving all along, nothing like this is ever going to happen. You get from the dating scene precisely what you put in. A month ago I would have said being gay might have made it more difficult, but when it comes to sex, I think that would be a lie nobody would be willing to believe.
The Dame has to realise, a date is a date is a date is a date. A date is not life long love, nor does it promise eternal happiness. But if you don’t meet a lot of people, the self confidence keeps dipping and the variety (as stipulated clearly in the rules of the revolution) of it all, well it ceases to exist. It’s true, 7 out of 10 women will bore you to death, but 10 is needed in order to find the perfect 3. You need to sample the whole array of Cadbury’s miniatures in order to establish which one you like the most and which one you like the least, correct?
Plough on…and properly!
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Calories
Received an interesting email earlier today. With some of us counting the points on every morsel we eat, I think it's the perfect time to introduce the calorie burning advantages to sex. This is the biggest incentive for eating what you like and well, fucking what you like too.
Calories Burned During Sex:
REMOVING HER CLOTHES:
With her consent.................................12 Calories
Without her consent...........................2,187 Calories
OPENING HER BRA:
With both hands.................................. 8 Calories
With one hand....................................12 Calories
With your teeth.................................485 Calories
PUTTING ON A CONDOM:
With an erection..................................6 Calories
Without an erection ............................3,315 Calories
POSITIONS:
Missionary...................................12 Calories
69 lying down...............................78 Calories
69 standing up..............................812 Calories
Wheelbarrow................................216 Calories
Doggy Style..................................326 Calories
Italian chandelier..........................2,912 Calories
ORGASMS:
Real........................................112 Calories
Fake..........................................1,315 Calories
POST ORGASM:
Lying in bed hugging... ............................18 Calories
Getting up immediately.........................36 Calories
Explaining why you got out of bed immediately...816 Calories
GETTING A SECOND ERECTION:
If you are:
20-29 years......................................36 Calories
30-39 years......................................80 Calories
40-49 years.....................................124 Calories
50-59 years...................................1,972 Calories
60-69 years...................................7,916 Calories
70 and over........................Results are still pending
DRESSING AFTERWARDS:
Calmly..........................................32 Calories
In a hurry.......................................98 Calories
With her father knocking at the door..........5,218 Calories
With your wife knocking at the door..........13,521 Calories
Results may vary.
Of course, the biggest question posed by this information is what on earth an Italian Chandelier is.
Any ideas?
Calories Burned During Sex:
REMOVING HER CLOTHES:
With her consent.................................12 Calories
Without her consent...........................2,187 Calories
OPENING HER BRA:
With both hands.................................. 8 Calories
With one hand....................................12 Calories
With your teeth.................................485 Calories
PUTTING ON A CONDOM:
With an erection..................................6 Calories
Without an erection ............................3,315 Calories
POSITIONS:
Missionary...................................12 Calories
69 lying down...............................78 Calories
69 standing up..............................812 Calories
Wheelbarrow................................216 Calories
Doggy Style..................................326 Calories
Italian chandelier..........................2,912 Calories
ORGASMS:
Real........................................112 Calories
Fake..........................................1,315 Calories
POST ORGASM:
Lying in bed hugging... ............................18 Calories
Getting up immediately.........................36 Calories
Explaining why you got out of bed immediately...816 Calories
GETTING A SECOND ERECTION:
If you are:
20-29 years......................................36 Calories
30-39 years......................................80 Calories
40-49 years.....................................124 Calories
50-59 years...................................1,972 Calories
60-69 years...................................7,916 Calories
70 and over........................Results are still pending
DRESSING AFTERWARDS:
Calmly..........................................32 Calories
In a hurry.......................................98 Calories
With her father knocking at the door..........5,218 Calories
With your wife knocking at the door..........13,521 Calories
Results may vary.
Of course, the biggest question posed by this information is what on earth an Italian Chandelier is.
Any ideas?
Friday, January 12, 2007
The Butcher, the Baker, the Candlestick Maker - Book Review
Wrinkly sex? Yikes you might say.
But that would be wrong. Mature people enjoy sex just the way us young uns do. And the older you become, the more the realisation that your breasts/testicles require separate carrier bags hits you.
I personally love nothing more than hearing about older people going out there and getting it. not only that, the women I often read about who are getting it, have amazing tales to tell, orgasm to write home about.
Those of us who have youth often feel we have the time to go through a spell of bad fucks for we have 'all the time in the world'. Older people are more refined. Thought before sex is as important as making the most of yourself and your partner once you're both between the sheets. Ignorant fumblings are often disappointing and pointless.
Now, to the book in question.
Suzanne Portnoy writes a memoir which is an open, free and frank account of her sexual emancipation. What makes this different is perhaps that the author has perhaps the best sex of her life after the demise of a ten year old marriage. Indeed, this is where the book begins.
I think we all know what good sex is. We simply choose to lower its value so that it fits with our life and we don't feel cheated.
Also, this book is truly an ode to the genius creation that is the Internet. She has great success meeting men from all over the world through the Internet. In today's social fuck-everybody environment, it's comforting to see somebody who does it so well. And, being the sassy media chick she is, I'm not surprised she did so well.
All in all, a book worth reading, if only for inspiration. The lesson to be learnt is this: good sex comes from honesty, confidence and an idea of what it is you're looking for. Experience everything before you dismiss it.
But that would be wrong. Mature people enjoy sex just the way us young uns do. And the older you become, the more the realisation that your breasts/testicles require separate carrier bags hits you.
I personally love nothing more than hearing about older people going out there and getting it. not only that, the women I often read about who are getting it, have amazing tales to tell, orgasm to write home about.
Those of us who have youth often feel we have the time to go through a spell of bad fucks for we have 'all the time in the world'. Older people are more refined. Thought before sex is as important as making the most of yourself and your partner once you're both between the sheets. Ignorant fumblings are often disappointing and pointless.
Now, to the book in question.
Suzanne Portnoy writes a memoir which is an open, free and frank account of her sexual emancipation. What makes this different is perhaps that the author has perhaps the best sex of her life after the demise of a ten year old marriage. Indeed, this is where the book begins.
I think we all know what good sex is. We simply choose to lower its value so that it fits with our life and we don't feel cheated.
Also, this book is truly an ode to the genius creation that is the Internet. She has great success meeting men from all over the world through the Internet. In today's social fuck-everybody environment, it's comforting to see somebody who does it so well. And, being the sassy media chick she is, I'm not surprised she did so well.
All in all, a book worth reading, if only for inspiration. The lesson to be learnt is this: good sex comes from honesty, confidence and an idea of what it is you're looking for. Experience everything before you dismiss it.
Fast Food Nation
One of life's eternal disasters: Fast food and the hamburger.
We've all seen 'Super Size Me' and really wish he wouldn't. Or that he was referring to some other, more alluring part of our anatomy. So when a friend (from the cinema group) invited me accompany him to an advanced screening of the new film 'Fast Food Nation', I went more for the company and the fact that it was an advanced screening, as opposed to a normal screening which most common people (and also me far too often) are used to.
So, he was late, but it was interesting to see the turn out of media and film junkies, ticket in hand, as they filled the cinema to its brim.
The film, as you may be aware, is based on the non fiction book. What's interesting is the directors choice of ficitonalising the novel. Consequently I felt the film was far more gripping than it might have otherwise been.
The slaughter scene at the end I was unable to watch, but other than that, this account of the huge all consuming fast food business is gripping, it's consequences far reaching, and hamburgers, as we are made aware, might contain an awful lot of cow dung.
For those of you who enjoy fast food and await, with anticipation, the next hamburger you'll consume: Shame on you. Watch this film.
For those of you who enjoy thought provoking cinema and generally enjoy salads with full fat dressing: go and watch it too.
We've all seen 'Super Size Me' and really wish he wouldn't. Or that he was referring to some other, more alluring part of our anatomy. So when a friend (from the cinema group) invited me accompany him to an advanced screening of the new film 'Fast Food Nation', I went more for the company and the fact that it was an advanced screening, as opposed to a normal screening which most common people (and also me far too often) are used to.
So, he was late, but it was interesting to see the turn out of media and film junkies, ticket in hand, as they filled the cinema to its brim.
The film, as you may be aware, is based on the non fiction book. What's interesting is the directors choice of ficitonalising the novel. Consequently I felt the film was far more gripping than it might have otherwise been.
The slaughter scene at the end I was unable to watch, but other than that, this account of the huge all consuming fast food business is gripping, it's consequences far reaching, and hamburgers, as we are made aware, might contain an awful lot of cow dung.
For those of you who enjoy fast food and await, with anticipation, the next hamburger you'll consume: Shame on you. Watch this film.
For those of you who enjoy thought provoking cinema and generally enjoy salads with full fat dressing: go and watch it too.
Christianity Explored
‘Christianity is Christ’ said the man at the course I attended last Tuesday. A seven week course where I get to ask questions about life and Christianity, eat supper with what are essentially a great mix of people, and read Mark’s Gospel as homework
You see, the image many people have of me, especially those who are probably reading this very entry, is that I’m rather sex obsessed and, consequently, unreligious being. Unreligious? Probably, Uninterested in different ideas and concepts? Most definitely.
For knowledge is infinite and with knowledge comes wisdom. The ability to learn from other people and take alternative concepts in order to enrich your own being is something only the best of us do.
I must say, this circling of different societies is a great thing. Meeting so many interesting and unusual people is perhaps the essential London experience. The thing about London is that people can work their way through friends the way they work their way from one tube stop to another. Quickly, efficiently, absorbing, losing, all in equal amounts.
‘What one question would you ask God if you knew you’d get a reply?’
C2 (with who I attend these ‘classes’) – ‘Why build a perfect world and then plant a tree in the Garden of Eden which, you knew, would cause destruction?’
Me- ‘Is it possible to be completely satisfied with the present without ever hoping for or seeking something more, something further?
Dear Readers, what question would you ask?
Having said that, I saw the film Iris a couple of days ago. Such a beautiful tragic film. What a woman. Something I heard made me wonder.
‘Even before we are born we learn to believe in an eternal divine spirit, beyond even God. We believe in the power of love, the strong encompassing power of love, happiness, belonging.’
God or Love?
You see, the image many people have of me, especially those who are probably reading this very entry, is that I’m rather sex obsessed and, consequently, unreligious being. Unreligious? Probably, Uninterested in different ideas and concepts? Most definitely.
For knowledge is infinite and with knowledge comes wisdom. The ability to learn from other people and take alternative concepts in order to enrich your own being is something only the best of us do.
I must say, this circling of different societies is a great thing. Meeting so many interesting and unusual people is perhaps the essential London experience. The thing about London is that people can work their way through friends the way they work their way from one tube stop to another. Quickly, efficiently, absorbing, losing, all in equal amounts.
‘What one question would you ask God if you knew you’d get a reply?’
C2 (with who I attend these ‘classes’) – ‘Why build a perfect world and then plant a tree in the Garden of Eden which, you knew, would cause destruction?’
Me- ‘Is it possible to be completely satisfied with the present without ever hoping for or seeking something more, something further?
Dear Readers, what question would you ask?
Having said that, I saw the film Iris a couple of days ago. Such a beautiful tragic film. What a woman. Something I heard made me wonder.
‘Even before we are born we learn to believe in an eternal divine spirit, beyond even God. We believe in the power of love, the strong encompassing power of love, happiness, belonging.’
God or Love?
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Happy Divorce Day
Ah, busy busy ah so busy.
I’d like to apologise for the scattered entries and lack of them of late, have been busy sitting exams, attending open days, going to advance film screenings, and the like. For it is my firm belief that social butterflies have a greater lifespan than other sorts.
Rewind – Monday, two exams, too tired upon returning to the boudoir to sit at a computer. Exams went well, though, now that they are over, can focus on things sordid some more. Number crunching is done for this lifetime, I hope.
Also, was national divorce day (that’s correct). More people file for divorce on the 8th January than on any other day in the year. Now, isn’t that exciting? If you have gotten a divorce, congratulations. If you’re contemplating one, you’ve missed this monumental boat I’m afraid. There’s always next year.
Conversely, for every divorcing couple, there is an increase in the number of singletons now readily available for quick fucks and even longer panting sessions. And let’s face it, divorcees are the worst. What it must feel like to be open to the possibility of countless one night stands once more. What it must mean to have the freedom to open the trap door that is your mind and ask the girl out you’ve been masturbating over for the last three months. And there’s no wife who’d disapprove if you were to suggest a threesome. Glee!
The sad fact of the matter is that after 4 years of marriage (6 for those who are lucky) partners seem to forget what exists after their waist. It’s almost as though it were a weapon you used to ensure you had the wedding. And all of a sudden, there’s no need for it.
Complacency in relationships is the things that riles me the most. In fact, it riles me almost as much as Keira Knightley trying to be a posh London bird. Because you can see right through it. Just because your dick got the girl in the first instance, it doesn’t mean it’s going to keep her for twenty years more without trying.
How many people have the guts, the honesty and the inclination to leave their partners when the 100% satisfaction decreases to 75%? Hardly any. And why? It’s true, trust is very difficult to build. Having said that, when you spend years with the same person, a level of trust develops whether you want it or not. A level of comfort that develops from familiarity. And it’s very easy to continue. A true pioneer risks loneliness for the price of freedom I suppose. Wouldn’t you agree?
Regardless…..Happy Divorce Day!
I’d like to apologise for the scattered entries and lack of them of late, have been busy sitting exams, attending open days, going to advance film screenings, and the like. For it is my firm belief that social butterflies have a greater lifespan than other sorts.
Rewind – Monday, two exams, too tired upon returning to the boudoir to sit at a computer. Exams went well, though, now that they are over, can focus on things sordid some more. Number crunching is done for this lifetime, I hope.
Also, was national divorce day (that’s correct). More people file for divorce on the 8th January than on any other day in the year. Now, isn’t that exciting? If you have gotten a divorce, congratulations. If you’re contemplating one, you’ve missed this monumental boat I’m afraid. There’s always next year.
Conversely, for every divorcing couple, there is an increase in the number of singletons now readily available for quick fucks and even longer panting sessions. And let’s face it, divorcees are the worst. What it must feel like to be open to the possibility of countless one night stands once more. What it must mean to have the freedom to open the trap door that is your mind and ask the girl out you’ve been masturbating over for the last three months. And there’s no wife who’d disapprove if you were to suggest a threesome. Glee!
The sad fact of the matter is that after 4 years of marriage (6 for those who are lucky) partners seem to forget what exists after their waist. It’s almost as though it were a weapon you used to ensure you had the wedding. And all of a sudden, there’s no need for it.
Complacency in relationships is the things that riles me the most. In fact, it riles me almost as much as Keira Knightley trying to be a posh London bird. Because you can see right through it. Just because your dick got the girl in the first instance, it doesn’t mean it’s going to keep her for twenty years more without trying.
How many people have the guts, the honesty and the inclination to leave their partners when the 100% satisfaction decreases to 75%? Hardly any. And why? It’s true, trust is very difficult to build. Having said that, when you spend years with the same person, a level of trust develops whether you want it or not. A level of comfort that develops from familiarity. And it’s very easy to continue. A true pioneer risks loneliness for the price of freedom I suppose. Wouldn’t you agree?
Regardless…..Happy Divorce Day!
Saturday, January 06, 2007
Celebrity sex
In recent times we’ve become more than aware that the myth of the celebrity sex video is no longer just that. In fact, today, it’s seen as a stamp of celebrity to have your crotch out there for public consumption, so to speak. In fact, why stop at celebrities, even Mrs Smith from across the street is doing away with her knickers and taping herself masturbating with a view to posting the art on Napster.
With this in mind, I’ve been through them all. Well, almost (for even I need to sleep).
Here are my top three celebrity fuck tapes, because you’re worth it.
1) Although she is frequently seen accompanying doggy, Paris Hilton made special time for her pussy in ‘One Night in Paris’, and boy was it worth the tack that she often makes us put up with. Granted, if you can forget about her stupidity, you could find yourself with a huge erection or moist knickers, and that’s just with the sight of the cock in question. The infrared is classy, the cock big, the positions sultry. The sex is amateur bordering on cinematic and it is for this reason that It gets my no1 vote. And nobody can deny that she’s a sexy little minx when she puts her mind to it.
2) Jenna Lewis (Survivor star) and her husband Travis Wolfe (model) decided to tape themselves fucking like crazy on their wedding night. Now, there’s something sexy and very kinky about that, wouldn’t you agree. And before one of you gets in with a ‘but it’s such a personal thing blah blah’, STOP IT! The video quality is fantastic, as it the blowjob, not to forget the array of positions tried and tested by the pair. There’s something very exciting about two young hot bodies humping so passionately. Of course, my personal favourite scene includes a shot of Jenna complimenting Travis on his manhood, only for them to get into a conversation about his mother and her genetic gifts mid-fuck. And then she says it, the line of the century: ‘Yes, I mentioned your mother during sex, now fuck me harder!’
3) Pamela Anderson and Tommy Lee, ah, when I saw this tape it was like a breath of fresh air and a lesson in why not to drive and receive a blowjob unless that particular highway is absolutely dead. The amateur camera work coupled with the general lack of caring how they presented themselves is what puts this at number three instead of higher up. If you’re going to fuck for the camera and if it’s going to get out (because let’s face it, it always will and you probably wanted it to), do it properly, with a certain artistic flair. Having said that, you can't beat a couple so electric.
With this in mind, I’ve been through them all. Well, almost (for even I need to sleep).
Here are my top three celebrity fuck tapes, because you’re worth it.
1) Although she is frequently seen accompanying doggy, Paris Hilton made special time for her pussy in ‘One Night in Paris’, and boy was it worth the tack that she often makes us put up with. Granted, if you can forget about her stupidity, you could find yourself with a huge erection or moist knickers, and that’s just with the sight of the cock in question. The infrared is classy, the cock big, the positions sultry. The sex is amateur bordering on cinematic and it is for this reason that It gets my no1 vote. And nobody can deny that she’s a sexy little minx when she puts her mind to it.
2) Jenna Lewis (Survivor star) and her husband Travis Wolfe (model) decided to tape themselves fucking like crazy on their wedding night. Now, there’s something sexy and very kinky about that, wouldn’t you agree. And before one of you gets in with a ‘but it’s such a personal thing blah blah’, STOP IT! The video quality is fantastic, as it the blowjob, not to forget the array of positions tried and tested by the pair. There’s something very exciting about two young hot bodies humping so passionately. Of course, my personal favourite scene includes a shot of Jenna complimenting Travis on his manhood, only for them to get into a conversation about his mother and her genetic gifts mid-fuck. And then she says it, the line of the century: ‘Yes, I mentioned your mother during sex, now fuck me harder!’
3) Pamela Anderson and Tommy Lee, ah, when I saw this tape it was like a breath of fresh air and a lesson in why not to drive and receive a blowjob unless that particular highway is absolutely dead. The amateur camera work coupled with the general lack of caring how they presented themselves is what puts this at number three instead of higher up. If you’re going to fuck for the camera and if it’s going to get out (because let’s face it, it always will and you probably wanted it to), do it properly, with a certain artistic flair. Having said that, you can't beat a couple so electric.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Commando
Spent all of yesterday wearing no underwear. Wish I hadn’t. The thing is, men have a cock and there is always a fear that it might get stuck inside the zipper. Especially after you’ve urinated. Wiping it down and shoving it back in might seem a simple task, though isn’t quite.
Of course, women have it so much easier. Nothing to get in the way. All’s free. All’s aired.
So, I decided to give it a go. The look au naturale.
2 reasons never to do it again:
1- Erections are difficult if not impossible to manage. Nothing quite as severe as having the bell end rubbing against the rough interior of a pair of Levi’s.
2- Sometimes, the foreskin can get stuck in an odd position requiring the man to pull it into shape. When one is out shopping, this is difficult to manage without the women behind the counter looking at you strangely, as though you were fiddling with your dirty bits in public. And public toilets, atleast the ones worth visiting, are always so difficult to find. Having said that, I was rather impressed with the refurbished lavatories at my local shopping mall whilst I was back home.
The solution. Fitted briefs and y fronts all the way. The erection is thus fully managed and contained within the folds of soft yet durable material. It is my firm (yes firm) belief that briefs can do what boxers cannot.
On an entirely separate note, the Nectar Card finally arrived. Used it for the first time yesterday. Collecting points can be rather fun. In fact, if you have the time and inclination, you might be creative and tot up the points in a matter of an hour, which might have otherwise taken you a month. And the lady who first rejected me for being a non-nectar-grabber wasn’t there this time to witness my baptism. Damn her.
The internet has packed in at home. Thus, I’m elsewhere as I type this for you.
Big Brother – Celebrity Special. If the rumour mill is true, Shilpa Shetty (bollywood bombshell) will take the crown this year. She’s beautiful and Indian (the brown connection has to come into use some time I suppose).
Of course, women have it so much easier. Nothing to get in the way. All’s free. All’s aired.
So, I decided to give it a go. The look au naturale.
2 reasons never to do it again:
1- Erections are difficult if not impossible to manage. Nothing quite as severe as having the bell end rubbing against the rough interior of a pair of Levi’s.
2- Sometimes, the foreskin can get stuck in an odd position requiring the man to pull it into shape. When one is out shopping, this is difficult to manage without the women behind the counter looking at you strangely, as though you were fiddling with your dirty bits in public. And public toilets, atleast the ones worth visiting, are always so difficult to find. Having said that, I was rather impressed with the refurbished lavatories at my local shopping mall whilst I was back home.
The solution. Fitted briefs and y fronts all the way. The erection is thus fully managed and contained within the folds of soft yet durable material. It is my firm (yes firm) belief that briefs can do what boxers cannot.
On an entirely separate note, the Nectar Card finally arrived. Used it for the first time yesterday. Collecting points can be rather fun. In fact, if you have the time and inclination, you might be creative and tot up the points in a matter of an hour, which might have otherwise taken you a month. And the lady who first rejected me for being a non-nectar-grabber wasn’t there this time to witness my baptism. Damn her.
The internet has packed in at home. Thus, I’m elsewhere as I type this for you.
Big Brother – Celebrity Special. If the rumour mill is true, Shilpa Shetty (bollywood bombshell) will take the crown this year. She’s beautiful and Indian (the brown connection has to come into use some time I suppose).
Monday, January 01, 2007
Happy New Year
Happy New Year! It's finally upon us. Time to make a thousand more promises, to fuck harder, work harder, have greater ambitions and eat in Nobu, for we may all die tomorrow.
Frequenting one's local gay club is always both exhilarating and nerve racking in equal measures. Partly for the new world you might discover, which was never really that far away, and partly for the fear of how many relatives you might come across.
A new world I did discover, and not a single relative that made me want to shoot out quicker than I'd come in.
'Excuse me, If that's your girlfriend, she's beautiful'.
'Is that your girlfriend? She's hot!'.
And so on and so forth, all night.
The friend I went with, the one who is magnetic, well let's just say she managed to, by simply existing, attract every straight man in the club, almost every gay man and a lesbian or five. I should have known I suppose, I've been out with her many a time before. I don't know how she does it. And, of course, now I want her to be MY girlfriend.
She's stunning, I realise, and incredibly intelligent and oozes confidence and sexuality in equal measures. But, what of that magnetic pull? How precisely does one acquire that? I know I must sound slightly obsessive, but it's really something I want.
So, after a few cocktails we sought the club out and, let me say, for a place that looks quiet and sensible from the outside, it was far from on the inside. Two rooms 1) rnb/cheese 2 )house/dance.
Moments worth forgetting:
Dancing to:
1) You and me baby ain't nothin but mammals, so let's do it like they do on the discovery channel.
2) Boom Boom Boom Boom, I want you in my room, let's spend the night together, from now until forever.
3) (most embarrassing) Do you believeeeeee in life afta lurrve..I can feeeeel sumthin inside me say, I really don't think you're strong enough (think deep voice of Cher).
'All the guys here think you're with me. If I weren't here they'd be all over you, I can see so many looking at you.' she said. Funny, I thought, I couldn't see a single one. Still, let's give her the benefit of the doubt this one time shall we?
So there we have it, my first new years resolution: to awaken that magnetic pull deep inside.
Ah, but it was great fun. Just the two of us, great friends, drinking, boogieing, trying to talk over the pumping sounds, mingling (though in her case, it was a case of stalking, a guy claiming to be a teacher of spirituality. Ah.) Whether the lord would approve of home wrecking (considering she has a steady boyf) is a matter for further discussion at some later point.
It's also worth mentioning the token drag queen who actually looked rather like an ACTUAL woman. And not forgetting the two gay men who wore matching shirts. Bless. Yuk.
I wonder if I'll ever have the guts to flaunt my booty on the podium? I mean, really give it a go, fuck the dance floor and rip the seams in my trousers in the process?
Ah, and let's not forget the most beautiful lesbian I've ever seen (second to The Dame of course). She was delicious. I couldn't quite keep my eyes off her. One of the best looking blondes I've come across. That her girlfriend was a butch black girl didn't put me off in the slightest.
So, woke surprisingly early this morning and did a whole load of house chores (though I certainly hope it isn't a case of start as we mean to go on). Spoke to M (was cooking once again. Move over Delia, I suppose.) Though, this time, I believe preparation included placing things on a baking tray, placing the baking tray on the middle shelf of the oven and oops, preheating the oven to gas mark 7. M was surprisingly awake at 4am this morning. Eating. Waiting for the boyfriend to get home from work. As you do.
Rightio, need to dash, people coming over, pasta to prepare.
Ciao
Frequenting one's local gay club is always both exhilarating and nerve racking in equal measures. Partly for the new world you might discover, which was never really that far away, and partly for the fear of how many relatives you might come across.
A new world I did discover, and not a single relative that made me want to shoot out quicker than I'd come in.
'Excuse me, If that's your girlfriend, she's beautiful'.
'Is that your girlfriend? She's hot!'.
And so on and so forth, all night.
The friend I went with, the one who is magnetic, well let's just say she managed to, by simply existing, attract every straight man in the club, almost every gay man and a lesbian or five. I should have known I suppose, I've been out with her many a time before. I don't know how she does it. And, of course, now I want her to be MY girlfriend.
She's stunning, I realise, and incredibly intelligent and oozes confidence and sexuality in equal measures. But, what of that magnetic pull? How precisely does one acquire that? I know I must sound slightly obsessive, but it's really something I want.
So, after a few cocktails we sought the club out and, let me say, for a place that looks quiet and sensible from the outside, it was far from on the inside. Two rooms 1) rnb/cheese 2 )house/dance.
Moments worth forgetting:
Dancing to:
1) You and me baby ain't nothin but mammals, so let's do it like they do on the discovery channel.
2) Boom Boom Boom Boom, I want you in my room, let's spend the night together, from now until forever.
3) (most embarrassing) Do you believeeeeee in life afta lurrve..I can feeeeel sumthin inside me say, I really don't think you're strong enough (think deep voice of Cher).
'All the guys here think you're with me. If I weren't here they'd be all over you, I can see so many looking at you.' she said. Funny, I thought, I couldn't see a single one. Still, let's give her the benefit of the doubt this one time shall we?
So there we have it, my first new years resolution: to awaken that magnetic pull deep inside.
Ah, but it was great fun. Just the two of us, great friends, drinking, boogieing, trying to talk over the pumping sounds, mingling (though in her case, it was a case of stalking, a guy claiming to be a teacher of spirituality. Ah.) Whether the lord would approve of home wrecking (considering she has a steady boyf) is a matter for further discussion at some later point.
It's also worth mentioning the token drag queen who actually looked rather like an ACTUAL woman. And not forgetting the two gay men who wore matching shirts. Bless. Yuk.
I wonder if I'll ever have the guts to flaunt my booty on the podium? I mean, really give it a go, fuck the dance floor and rip the seams in my trousers in the process?
Ah, and let's not forget the most beautiful lesbian I've ever seen (second to The Dame of course). She was delicious. I couldn't quite keep my eyes off her. One of the best looking blondes I've come across. That her girlfriend was a butch black girl didn't put me off in the slightest.
So, woke surprisingly early this morning and did a whole load of house chores (though I certainly hope it isn't a case of start as we mean to go on). Spoke to M (was cooking once again. Move over Delia, I suppose.) Though, this time, I believe preparation included placing things on a baking tray, placing the baking tray on the middle shelf of the oven and oops, preheating the oven to gas mark 7. M was surprisingly awake at 4am this morning. Eating. Waiting for the boyfriend to get home from work. As you do.
Rightio, need to dash, people coming over, pasta to prepare.
Ciao
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