Showing posts with label sex. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sex. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
eighteen
Do you remember the first night we met? We had actually met a few times before, but I mean the first night we hung out, without any mutual friends as buffers. I came to your work after close with my workmates and must have been there until at least 4am, it can't have been too much later because it was still dark when we got to your apartment. Your friend Jase was there – he became my friend after that night – and someone else maybe but that I'm not sure of. I'm not sure of very much, considering the circumstances and all the years that have passed since, but there are things that have stayed with me. I tripped on the stairs, I remember protesting that I had not eaten that night, it's something you say when you are embarassed at showing how drunk you are, isn't it? I remember you, I think it was you – there was something there I thought, I hoped, eyes had been made earlier – putting a pill in my mouth. Actually I might not remember that, maybe it was handed to me and I swallowed it on my own. It was not my first but still new enough. I remember only a few minutes passing before I was throwing up all over the bathroom. Had you been showering, did I burst in? Maybe you came in and found me there. I imagine any glimmer of that something faded away while you cleaned up my puke, I don't really know now. I remember you found a hair tie somewhere, to tie my hair up. I remember that I fell asleep and you went out with the others, there were early morning 'hospo nights' then, surely there still are, and I remember when I woke up the next day I thought someone had come into my room and painted the wall while I was sleeping, before I remembered that I was in your bed. You were next to me then, and I remember that you kissed me when we were both only just awake, I remember you had been wearing blue underwear, not shorts but tight, y fronts, no boys I knew wore that sort of underwear then.
Though your blue underwear may have been another time, later on.
I heard a few years ago that you were living here, and we have talked once, on a bizarre trip out of town we both happened to be on. But I didn't think about that night then, I just thought of it today, when we passed each other on the street, without recognition. I remember we joked about the wastefulness of my purge, I remember being both flattered and repulsed that you had kissed me after the events of only a few hours earlier. I remember that I went to your apartment for a while after that, always so late at night that it was already the next morning, a few times staying until it was the next night again. You were tall, tall and skinny with a baby's face and curls. You wore underwear that was different from the boys' whose underwear I had seen before.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
fanny hill
Hey, Lou. Um. Look?
There's an article about it,and bigger pictures,here.
Sexy puns!
So awesome...yet distasteful.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
signature scent

We all know that some smells are incredibly evocative. My mum wore Estee Lauder's White Linen and Cinnabar in the nineties. Those scents take me back to a very specific moment in my personal history, before I became a child of divorce (weep) and when my Mum was a Country Road wearing, slightly hippyish Remuera housewife. I remember, the year of the separation, my Dad giving us $60 to buy a Mothers Day perfume. We bought her Anais Anais by Carcharel, the bottle with the flower on it. With hindsight, I see how strange that must have been for my still-very-sad Mum; being presented with a perfume you knew your ex-husband paid for, by your three slightly worried looking daughters.
Since then, there haven't been that many perfumes that stood out for me. I used to wear Allure, which, thinking back on it, was probably a bit too mature. My boyfriend smelt it on the breeze in London and called me in the middle of the night to say so. That's why we wear perfume, isn't it?
As a slightly more grown up person, I've decided that most perfumes aren't for me. I don't like the way that major fashion labels market them, as if Chanel Number 5 is a magical gateway to luxury. I know that I like heady, spicy smells, more often found in men's perfumes than ladies. I have tried light and fresh, but they don't work on me. It's probably to do with my own conception of what a perfume should be - it should uniquely reflect your personality as well as your aspirations. I want to smell exotic, dark and warm.
So I've chosen Numero Uno by Carthusia. It is a mens' perfume, and is rustic and herbal, intense but totally wearable. It warms on my skin and changes throughout the day. I have a feeling I'll be wearing it for a very long time.
Tags:
memories,
musing,
perfume,
sex,
signature scent
Monday, May 31, 2010
the vermillion discs tumble in

NOTES TAKEN WHILE WATCHING NIGELLA LAWSON:
Ruby droplets of pomegranate
Carmen miranda's christmas crown
The russian formalists said the purpose of literature was to make the stones stonier, this makes the nuts nuttier.
Lovely...river...of pink juice...folded together in a messy clump...
I love their...waxy richness
What you do with this beautiful amber disc, is break it up into big fat gold shards...
One meat is a meal, two meats is a feast!
Glorious porcini...expensive, but, you're worth it
There's something strange that happens when you add them to the porcini, its like they respond to the call of the wild
Look at this venison (mince), like something out of a still life
Far from dreading that recurring turkey, I live for it
Blitzed into wonderful, velvety, creamy emulsions.
Treacle: just malevolent
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
tyrannosaurus SEX

I'm sorry for posting another video but oh wow, click here to watch several videos from the Discovery Channel explaining dino-sex which I'm sure is something we are all very interested in learning more about.
Tags:
dinosaurs,
educational,
sex,
TV
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
paullina paullina

I'm reading a trashy novel at the moment, and I can't put it down. Not even on the bus today, when I stumbled upon the fabled 100 pages of sex scenes. I was, of course, sitting next to a slightly wierd dude who smelt a bit so I tried to keep the book away from his line of vision. An excerpt:
'They couldn't even wait to get home. He carried the trunk into the pines and sat down on it. Tatiana climbed on top of him. "Don't be too loud in the woods," he told her, lifting her onto himself and kissing her.'
That goes on for 100 pages.
But the thing about this book is: everyone you know has secretly read it. It's really, really moreish. It's epic and sweeping and full of romance and longing glances and then BAM! 100 pages of Tatiana discovering the joy of sex in the woods with Alexander.
If you want to read this book(and you probably do) go running over to your mum's house, it probably is part of her book club reading list. If you have a girlfriend who owns all seven seasons of Gilmore Girls on DVD and majored in english so she could do a paper on Jane Austen, go ask her. She totally read this book on the sly and became slightly obsessed. Those girlfriends are awesome. Oh, it is called The Bronze Horseman. Boom!
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