Here’s a notice to all papps out there: If you’d like to come and camp outside my house for a couple of years to take pointless, blurry photos of me and Suze then you can do so whenever you like.

Why?

Well she just won £53,000 damages against a photographic agency for invasion of privacy and the distress it caused. In all seriousness though I can understand where she’s coming from. Yes you accept that being int public eye you’re going to attract attention from the press, after all you’re famous. But most of the pictures these guys take are hardly newsworthy and ultimately pointless.

Take two extremes of this particular branch of journalism. If your surname is Beckham you attempt to very carefully control (some might venture manipulate) which images of you reach the public’s gaze. Fair enough in one respect I suppose as they are a very valuable brand.

At the other end of the scale, Peter Andre and Katie Price seem plagued by magazine cover images of them apparently having some form of crisis in their relationship.

Fame is bad enough but the people who feed on it …

Posted under Non-Fiction

Trying to describe my synaesthesia to anyone is difficult because even two synaesthetes experience sensation and the mixing of the sense differently. Hell, synaesthesia is often written as synesthesia so we can’t even agree on a spelling Lol.

I mention this because I experienced a really unusual sparkly blue orgasm tonight. It’s pretty much impossible to explain to someone how you can see sensations as colour in the first place, but to explain to them how dark blue can be sparkly … now that’s a challenge.

For those of you unfamiliar with my gift let me explain. When I experience sensations, linked to the sense of touch, I see colours accompanying them. Sometimes this is a wash of colour, sometimes quite distinct shapes and patterns that accompany and envelope the sensations that most other people in the world experience. The more intense the sensation the more pronounced the colours I see.

That doesn’t mean the colours are brighter or more gaudy when the sensation is more powerful, but the experience is more potent and memorable.

In fact saying “colour” is a little misleading because while I always express these experiences in terms of colours that everyone sees through their eyes it is often the case that there are no colours which accurately match those I “see” through my synaesthesia. How do you tell someone that the most amazing and vivacious orgasm you just experienced was a sort of churning muddy brown-yellow? Everyone wants to feel like you saw red and gold fireworks … but it doesn’t work like that.

Last year I tried some electro-stim equipment at an adult show in Birmingham and I was rather taken with it. The extra dimension that my gift gives me made me want to experience the full range that the kit offered. The burst of sensation that I felt meant I want to experiment with just how much I could take from the machine.

That made me realise that my synaesthetic experiences are in fact addictive. This in turn gave me an insight into the assertion that I have read on the Internet about synaesthesia being linked to a tendency towards BDSM. While synaesthesia does make you want to experience the extremes of sensation that in itself does not make you a masochist.

A masochist feels the need for pain, either because they enjoy it or because they need pain to fill a void in their existence that nothing else will fill. Some would argue that a true masochist does not enjoy pain, but simply needs it to function, but that is not what this post is about.

For those who experience pleasure and an endorphin rush from pain I can well see how that would be enhanced if they experience synaesthesia. I on the other hand see experiencing tactile sensation as a means to further explore my synaesthesia not that my synaesthesia causes me to seek out pain.

Posted under Non-Fiction

Today is the 100th birthday of René Magritte surrealist artists. One of his most famous paintings “Ceci N’est pas une pipe” had me thinking again. The contradiction and clarification in the image is so appropriate for sex blogging.

The contradiction is of course that a sex blog, like the painting of a pipe by Magritte is not the thing itself. A blog cannot represent the sex life of the author in the same way that a painting of a pipe is not in itself a pipe.

The clarification comes with the legend inscribed below the pipe, or in the case of a sex blog the disclaimer that sometimes accompanies the posts. “This is not a pipe” tells the viewer what they already know, that the image of a pipe is a representation of a pipe. No matter how accurate a depiction of the object a painting is always that, a painting, two dimensional and somewhat less than the original.

The same is true of sex blogs. No matter how skilful the writing or accurate the descriptions, either by default or design no sex blogger can or would be willing to expose thaie entire private life to public gaze.

Yes they may tell you about their darkest desires and deepest longings, but you will always be restricted in what you are allowed to read.

And that’s how it should be. After all even sex bloggers have a right to a little bit of privacy. LOL

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Porn in the 1970s was, until recently, regarded as a bit of a joke. And by many I suppose it still is. But to others it’s a trip down memory lane, to a time when things were a little more innocent and pornography simply wasn’t as accessible, even by those old enough to consume it.

I started thinking about this because of pubic hair. LOL. Let me explain. We were watching some Japanese porn and the hirsuteness of the performers was unusual when compared with the carefully trimmed and shaved western porn stars. It reminded me of the pubic fuzz displayed by the pornographic performers of former decades.

Now of course pornography with a retro feel is seen as quite cool. And it doesn’t have to be Japanese porn. Like all things porn is cyclic and while tastes change there is one constant, the desire to see two (or more) human beings fucking and sucking. In an environment where much of the porn available seems formulaic and dull anything out of the ordinary is bound to find an audience.

That audience could be fans of porn stars who look like John Holmes or those who crave for something a little more extreme than the majority of the industry’s output. Either way it must be a signal to the inhabitants of Chatsworth CA that producing 2,500 films each year from the same mould isn’t going to make them money forever.

Then of course there’s the problem of understanding the genre you’re shooting for. It’s all too easy to go down to the local sex emporium and pick up a few pairs of cuffs and an assortment of whips and floggers. That isn’t going to put you in the mind of the anyone in a D/s relationship and when it comes to D/s and BDSM that’s where you need to be, in the right head space. Because despite what most people outside BDSM seem to believe it’s not about the equipment you use, it’s the atmosphere and interaction. Not the props.

Posted under Non-Fiction

I told you the other day about the consignment of adult toys that were supposed to winging their way to me and that they appeared to have dropped off the radar. The supplier tried tracking them and the online system wasn’t giving any details. Well they still haven’t arrived.

It’s kind of handy don’t you think that packages go missing and are never traced, given that we are so close to Christmas. Uhmmm.

And Alex was having something delivered to him and that hasn’t shown either. I can only conclude that the postman now has a sack full of sex toys to give to his loved one. If you see a van like the one in the picture driven by a postman with a huge grin on his face can you ask him what happened to my toys! Lol

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Here’s an interesting one for you. Underwear model Karolina Kurkova has no navel. This article on the BBC’s news website explains the puzzle and the possible reasons for the absence of her belly button.

Karolina and her agent being tight-lipped about this particular idiosyncrasy of hers is not helping matters of course. Speculation about this sort of thing is just what keeps the journalists at some magazines in work. That is not what worries me about this.

In the search for a perfectly flat stomach what would happen if women begin to yearn for the removal of their navel?

Now to me that would look just plain odd but it wouldn’t be the most extreme form of body modification I’ve seen so who knows. I can’t see why anyone would want it done, but then again I can’t see why people with perfectly attractive bodies sometimes spend tens of thousands of pounds turning themselves into someone else. Or at least altering their external appearance to look like someone else.

(The picture inset here has a navel added in post-production)

Posted under Non-Fiction

No, not like that, before you ask.

Strange isn’t it how you can go through life totally oblivious of someone (or in this case two someones) while the rest of the world is so familiar with them. Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen are two such people.

They have been of supreme disinterest to me today until I saw gift boxes branded with their faces and names for sale in Boots. I just looked them up.

Very decorative.

I read about their films hmmmmm.

I can now forget them and become oblivious to them again.

Posted under Non-Fiction

Can someone please explain this to me? We decided to go out today and do a little Christmas shopping. Logic dictating that it was midweek, no school holidays and therefore the shopping mall would be quiet.

WRONG!

I have never seen it busier. Full of people. The carpark was packed the stores heaving. We bought a few unimaginative presents then made our way to the supermarket within the mall to get a sandwich and a drink. The queues stretched from the checkouts to the back of the store on every aisle. I heard one woman comment it had taken her over 30 minutes to get throuht the checkouts so I abandoned our lunch and we left.

How fucked up is that? I dread to think what it will be like closer to Christmas.

On the up side we got some more porn to look at. LOL

Posted under Non-Fiction