Being Fruitful And Multiplying

This is apparently a good thing, and recommended by a number of religious texts. In the nature of religious texts, they are being delicate and trying to mean one thing by saying another. Generally being fruitful means having sex, getting pregnant, and giving birth. Fruit has very little to do with it. A tomato is a fruit and the thought of tomatoes and sex is a little disturbing.

Now multiplying suggests that the sex business causes a numerical increase all out of proportion to the two bits that are put into it at the start. I’m not going to explain the process, but I can assure you it takes more than two bits. For two bits you don’t get any sex at all. Try pricing flowers, dinner, and bottle of wine these days and see what sex costs. And remember that you sometimes need to do sex several times to get a result – It’s like trying to start an old computer or a used car. Press that starter and pump it with your foot…

But you cannot exist on fruit alone. You need vegetables as well. Very few passages in the religious texts deal with vegetables, which I think is a sore failure on the part of the ancients. It leaves vegans sort of out in the cold, sex wise.

I do not intend to lower the tone of this column by making zucchini jokes.

Sexual Favours – The XXX – Rated Piñata

We’ve all read that term;” sexual favours  ” and thought we knew what it meant. Ditto ”  sexual harassment “, ” sexual content “, etc. I put it to you that we have all been remiss in our reading – there are far more sexual phrases that need to be incorporated into our daily conversation.

a.” Sexual healing “.*

It really does have a place in medical textbooks. If you have just been through a six-month course of antibiotics, surgical drainage, and splints, you are entitled to use the term ” sexual healing “. Otherwise you are just singing a rather drippy pop song.

Don’t sit near me, if you please…just in case.

b. ” Sexual Slave “.

Well we’re really into the Mills and Boone bodice ripping here, aren’t we. Try not to slaver when you say it.

c. ” Sexual Appliance ”

If you think we are talking about something in a plain paper wrapper, let me explain. Sexual appliances are large stainless steel or white enamel machines that do dishes, bake dinners, wash laundry, and dry clothing. They are referred to as ” sexual ” because people of any sex can operate them to make the house cleaner and the dinner more nutritious.

d. ” Sexual Politics ”

Wait till you see the picture on the ” How To Vote ” card…Cor…

*  “Sexual Heeling ” …now we’re getting somewhere. Is that a stiletto heel you’re wearing or are you just glad to see me…?

 

” I’m Just A Sex Object To You…”

No, Dear, you’re not. Not any more. Not for a long time. Not since you found Facebook.

I fully admit that I did think of you as a sex object – and treasured the sight, sound, and smell of you upon that basis. I longed to add feel to the list… but that was before I was presented with your posts on the electronic screen – in between the phishing memes and the advertisements for perfumed stump pullers. Once I could contemplate your thoughts and explore the workings of your mind, I changed my regard for you.

Now I do not look upon you you as a sex object. I regard you as a floating object.

You float between whichever political pressure group has most traction at the time. Between who has grabbed the national television coverage for the last five minutes and who will grab it for the next. Your thoughts are precious – as much for their virtue as for their rarity. And I long for the day when you will feel successful and triumphant – and will feel no more need to complain.

Like nirvana, armageddon, or the end of the works on the Mitchell Freeway, I never really expect to see this state of affairs blossom. But I need something to pray for.

 

” I Need Sex “

You what?

” I need sex. If I don’t get sex I will be a failure. I will be sick. I will be terrible…”

Hogwash. If you don’t get sex you won’t be any of those things. You’ll just be yourself with your clothes on and a good deal more spending money in your pocket. You’ll have time to do pleasant and fun things without worrying about consequences. You will be able to avoid any number of unpleasant outcomes – both physical and mental.

” But everyone else is having sex. ”

No they’re not. They might be telling you that, but a great many of them are lying. They are bragging about it in hopes of making themselves look interesting or sophisticated or exciting. They could do that by reading a book.

” But what if I’m missing out? ”

Here’s a textbook on venereal diseases. Find out what you’re missing…knock yourself out. You’ll love the chapter on herpes. It’ll stick in your mind, like the virus sticks everywhere else.

” But what if I fall in love? ”

So fall. Fall as hard and fast and wet and foolish as you want to. It has nothing whatever to do with sex, as the porn channels on the internet make perfectly clear. You can have a superb romance dressed in woollen longjohns and sensible shoes. You can do it in cold weather and look absolutely stunning against crashing sea waves.

” So sex is not as good as it is made out to be? I can do without it forever? ”

Nahh. Sex is alright. Dive right in when you find a chance. But don’t hang about the edge of real life just mooning and mooching – use your time to enjoy everything else. If it gets you, it’ll grab your crotch anyway, and if it doesn’t you can be happy doing other things.

 

 

Not So Much A Kept Woman…

As a preserved one.

I am not sure I have ever met a kept woman. At least none have ever admitted to the fact – and there have certainly been no receipts or account books on the table. Yet, I suspect that there may have been a few cases…

And not just kept women – kept men as well. I’m darned sure I know a couple of those. And fine fellows they are. I should welcome the chance to join their ranks, if the rest of my family would sign off on approval.

The concept of keeping someone is as old as the sexual urge. That’s what it amounts to in the end, and any nonsense about meetings of the minds and artistic muses can be blown up the chimney as so much smoke. There is a quid pro quo and if this involves fishnet stockings and champagne suppers so much the better. In some cases the ladies can wear the stockings…

Is it legal? Sometimes…if the transaction is adequately reported to the taxation department and no attempt made to disguise the cost of the stockings as a work-related expense.

Is it moral? Yes, of course. Everything is moral if you look at it the right way. Just turn your head sideways and squint.

Is it safe? Sometimes…relationships that are entered into loosely can be exited in the same way and sometimes they are more of an intersection or exchange station than a fixed establishment. Beware those arrangements that are so open as to permit anyone to enter.

Is it aesthetic? Well, that depends upon the parties involved. There have been more instances of frog princes than toad princesses, but it so much depends upon where the money is at any one time. It is rare for a frog prince to be kissed by a frog princess, and when it happens all you ever get are pollywogs.

Is it fun? We are led to believe it is, if we read the literature. But reading further may uncover the exploitative nature. This can be seen from both sides; I recommend reading Zola’s novel ” Nana ” for  a view of the thing. It has a weak ending, but a powerful mid-piece.

Can anyone join in? Well, considering that you need money or beauty, not everyone is free to participate. You may have neither, in which case you are better off finding true love or at least a consuming hobby. If you have both, you are in the cat-bird seat to command others. If you have one or the other, it can be sold advantageously.

What if true love intervenes? Well, then all bets are off. Cupid and Venus are the most fickle of influences and they can spoil lives as well as plots. ” Beware ” sounds trite, but beware…

Final advice. Diamonds are a girl’s best friend, followed by Anita Loos’ books. A man’s best friend is a dog and a gun, provided it is duck season. Couple if you must, with or without commerce, but reserve some time for rest and recuperation. And never put anything down in writing.

Sex And Hot Dinners

When I was a callow youth, I once confided an interest in a shop-girl at my summer employment. The manager who heard me scoffed and said that she’d had more encounters of an intimate nature than I’d had hot dinners. I was never given a chance to compare notes, and it’s always been a matter of regret.

Now that I am older, and have had encounters of an intimate nature myself, I could make a more scientific assessment. But I’m afraid that I would start asking questions…What, actually, was for dinner? Were there seconds? Leftovers? Who washed up later?

Hot dinner comparison is particularly British, and of a period. It suggested that there was a paucity of hot dinners in the UK. I would not be surprised at this…I’ve been a tourist there and the options for food were pretty daunting. I remember a large pie emporium in Woolwich that had magnificent signage, comfortable seating, and nothing that resembled a pie – in any culture – at all. Yet they did a roaring trade amongst the locals.

I will let your curiosity off the hook at this point. I have had hot dinners. Plenty of them. Some were expensive and some were cheap , but they were all hot. They did me good. I look back on some of them with fond memories. I look forward to more in the future. If there is a tee-shirt with a meme for hot dinners on it, I will buy it.

My thanks to Lufthansa for the image of their in-flight dinner.

Wearing Your ” Special ” Suspender Belt…

The one you only wear when you go out to ” special ” places. And do ” special ” things…

Generally you do these things in the dark with a few flickering lights. And a pulsating musical beat in the background. If you’re lucky you get to have a few drinks first, though you don’t want too many because that would affect your judgement and dull your senses. If you are going to wear your ” special ” suspender belt, you want to feel everything.

Of course there are people who tell you that this is all wrong. That you are doing something immoral. But they would tell you that if you weren’t wearing your ” special ” belt, so you might as well get used to it. Some people take entirely too much interest in the affairs of others.

Not me. I do not judge. I can see the sort of pleasure that this behaviour brings you, and as long as no-one is permanently injured I say go to it.

After all – where would the motion picture industry be if we did not all go to our local cinema and suspend our disbelief…?

Care for some popcorn?

 

The Dating Site

I do not concern myself with dating sites. I am married and have been for 47 years. And 47 years’ll date you, I can tell you now…

But I am acquainted with people who have participated in this sort of electronic crown and anchor wheel. They are the equivalent of optimistic gamblers, right up to the point when they get thrown out into the car park. They bring much the same attitude to the dating site.

Of course this sort of thing is not new – mail order brides and husbands have existed ever since people learned to write lying letters. And in the old days, the process was dead serious. Both parties knew that the business of acquaintance, courtship, love, and marriage was likely to be written in a Sears catalogue – not a romantic novel. They both invested everything they had in whatever they got.

Now it seems a lot lighter in tone – and a lot more automated. I am told there are dating apps for your mobile phone and you peruse a menu or a womenu and take your pick. At the same time, the pick is looking at your picture and trying to see around the Instagram filter to find out if you have both ears on one side of your head. You are allowed to swipe right or left. Presumably the thing is not so advanced that you put coins in and the loved one drops out of a slot on the phone, but designers are always at work…

Is it romantic? In a way, yes…because the amount of footling and distortion that goes on with internet images means that anything you see is about 146% fantasy. You are mooning over pixels.

Is it practical? Possibly…if you advertise the desire for a stinker of a mate, I’ll bet you’ll get one. Can’t complain about the service there.

Is it safe? No. If you wanted safety you could sit at home and read a book about it.

Is it fun? I don’t know. Fun may have changed somewhat in 47 years and I might be using a very old operating system. Don’t ask me to update it.

Easy Does It

I have discovered that sex, photography, and building model airplanes have a great deal in common – leaving aside the question of what you do with the tube of glue, the most noticeable thing is that when you find you are doing something that is hard work, expensive, and makes you feel bad….you are doing it wrong.

I don’t decry hard work in the sun, sweating and heaving, with the crack of the overseer’s whip lashing your back. This is how things should be in the retail trade, after all. And there may be a certain amount of whip cracking in the sex business, or so I have been told. But the other two endeavours can be done without pain or sunburn, surely.

Expense attaches itself to everything we do. You can hardly go for a walk in the park without fending off beggars showing you their open sores. As much fun as this is, and you’d be surprised what you can do with a sharpened walking stick, it all adds up to money spent. Trips to the shops are even worse. Stroll through Burlington Arcade as casually as you might, and avert your eye as you will, you find eventually that you are bearing home a diamond bracelet and bang, there’s sixpence gone.

As for feeling bad, this is not as much fun as it used to be. One used to be able to give oneself over to fits of melancholy and either moon about the manse or sit drinking in the study. You could roam the countryside on dark, stormy nights savaging things. Now you are pestered by do-gooders who want to wrest every corpse from your hands and ply you with cups of tea and cheerful memes. God’s Sake, People. Can’t we feel vile without having to feel bad about it.

The answer to all this is to relax the iron grip of ambition and do things for pleasure at a leisurely pace. Do not try to cram avarice, debauchery, and madness all into one afternoon. Take one horrid act at a time – give it several days to play out, and don’t sully the mud with water.

 

Pink Is A Girly Colour

And the heading image of the PRU Spitfire should prove that.

The original intention of the pink paint – to hide the photo-reconnaissance aircraft under clouds  over Europe in WW 2 – is somewhat negated by the black and white invasion stripes painted under the fuselage – but they were probably more worried about the jittery Allied AA gunners than the German ones. Or someone in the hangar had had enough of the pink and couldn’t stand it any more.

There was also a colour known as Mountbatten Pink that the Royal Navy used for a number of ships to hide them at dawn or dusk. I’m indebted to the research done by another blogger – ferrebeekeeper – for the pictures  to show the shade of paint and for the story of the paint. Go to https://ferrebeekeeper.wordpress.com/2013/04/08/mountbatten-pink

As well, here are screen grabs of other girly paint jobs.

With the exception of the Soviet tank in Prague, all the rest are British. Govern yourselves accordingly…