The whole fuckin Blogland is horny or doin' it, apparently.* (Except for Greg - there something you not telling us, honey?) I've read more shit about sex and masturbation on blogs in the past few days. I've been contemplating it myself (writing about it, that is. When it comes to actual sex, I don't contemplate, of course; I do.) I've been writing a sex scene in this latest book revision and it pretty much sucks. However, if I can borrow from Blogland, I think I have found a way to spice things up.
Because, not only are we horny, we sorta want it a certain style.
When I was young I was frightened that someone would find out I hump my pillow and think I'm a freak of nature.
Your worst fears come true, Jack. Heh. Just kidding. I'd better be careful. He's finally flirting back and for that I'm eternally grateful. He thinks I moved on and forgot him, or worse! got all sentimental and gave up the flirting completely. Never fear, Jack. I'm all over you, babe. Besides, what do I know? Maybe the pillow was right ways up.
Lunatic is gettin' some action:
Then again Sex Scenes isn't single but whatever, she sure is a lot of fun. We were going about it doggy style and her fucking dog was watching.
It sounds like it was Lunatic and me having the fun, but actually that is mostly** because of poor paragraphical (word, Krypto?) structure. (And that, children, is how we do a proper bloghop-rant. Lack of context is the key.) Looney's actually doing some blonde chic, which rules me out right off. I was blonde briefly, but I had to change hairdressers. PHF and everybody else complained. I'm just not a blonde. I could bleach my eyebrows and pubes and still no one would believe it. I just get too dark in summer, all exotic and shit. I also don't have a dog.
Even our new friend Neurotic Monkey is talking about sex; but of course within the context of popular media, his personal area of expertise and excellence. In this case it's that way cool show Carnivale (Sundays, HBO). This stripper chick wants it to be "special" for her latest luva, so she tells him to "put it back there". She ain't never had it that way before. The lucky guy, who runs the ferris wheel, goes, "Uh, ok." Or something like that; which I think was a pretty true-to-life reaction no matter your career choice. Even educated guys don't seem to care which orifice, as long as there's one available.
Then there's this poor Brit*** who is on the receiving end of the old back door sneak, albeit figuratively. A perenial mystery it is, too; at least for him.
This sex phenomenon occurs every few months and I'm blamin' the moon. However, there is something a little different about this moon. Have you guys seen it this time? It's fuckin HUGE and it's making people crazy for it, even in the bedroom. I'm forever going to call it the Dog-Moon when it gets so close and big and round.
*To put this in actual RL context - as I write this there are five kindergarten boys playing in my back yard. I'm a mother. I'm not dead.
***Thanks to the Mayor