Friday, March 6, 2020

Playing with Voices / Playing with yourself

I'm at a bit of a loss - as I'm trying to pull something out everyday and I'm looking at the annals of the back up ideas I have, and today, it seems was the day for this one.

The quiz question: Songs about Masturbation. The following were mentioned:

  • Turning Japanese by The Vapours
  • Blister in the Sun by The Violent Femmes
  • She Bop by Cindy Lauper
  • I'm a Wanker by Ivor Biggun and the Winkers
  • I Touch Myself by the Divinyls
  • Pump It Up by Elvis Costello
I was reminded that I'd done a writing exercise on a glorious writer's retreat, where I managed to rub out 700 words about the joys of self-love.

As I'm in a funny mood, it's time to pull this out and give it a beating.

(Basically I'm procrastinating and not novel writing, but I'm going to keep Friday nights sacred for other things other than writing).

So here we go, let's see what comes of this. (P.s. this is a disembodied voice, not me - my fantasies are far more banal and normally concern Clive Owen or Tom Ellis with Jeff Beck's Brush with the Blues in the background. )



The thing I had forgotten was that my old strategy for relieving boredom, was, when all else fails, masturbate to the gentle sounds of Elton John singing Honky Cat – for what better song is there to get your rocks off to than somebody singing an unintelligible song about who knows what. It was something about the beat, the funk and the fact that in the three minutes of the song, I could get myself off quickly and easily. It was a bit of a benign song to beat off to, but who cares.

You could take any song and masturbate to it – but something that makes you relax, enjoy and take you from zero to hero in no time is never a bad thing. I know of some people that beat off to the joys of Ravel’s Bolero, or Boom Boom Boom or heaven forbid, Whitney Houston’s I Will Always Love You, but I’ve always enjoyed taking my time with myself to Elton John’s earlier works. There is something about having fun with yourself, with a beat, with generally non-sensical lyrics, which does people well. It was a strategy that did me well until I discovered my vibrator – which was also a revelation.

It’s moments like these when you find yourself taking a Mondrian view of things. The rationale of which is that logic should come from the heart, not the head, and certainly not the pussy. The pussy and the head will lead you astray – the heart and the gut never will. Mondrian’s rationale is that True Simplicity takes a lot of concentration and that utopia can be found in the straight line. Whereas wanking takes all sorts of stimulus, whether it be the nips or the skin or the sight of porn or whatever that may be, that first vibrator, a small jobbie, not too much larger than a lipstick, did the job well and good. The first orgasm it gave me lasted for 20 minutes.

The quality of the orgasm is can vary. We’ll talk about that later. For is it a matter of quality over quantity. It depends on the day as to what you need. Whether it is a quick beat off or a long slow loving of yourself, you should never knock masturbation. It’s sex with somebody you love, as Woody Allen once said. It’s definitely not the size of the vibrator – more what it does. You get what it right for you. I was once given a vibrator  - I gave it to the Salvos  when I was cleaning out – unused of course.

I need a box to place in all the horrid things that I have thought about sex over the last thirty years. If I asked myself what wouldn’t I do, anal sex is one of those things. It just doesn’t float my boat. Of course, kids and animal will never come in to my sex life, unless there is an errant cat that decides that it’s going to sit in the middle of myself and my partner at the time. This has happened. The cat was shooed of the bed. It was brilliant. Things were just about to get interesting and then there was this moment when we had to stop and chuck the cat out of the room. Poor puss, I think she was just looking for a bit of warmth.

For me, I think all of this sex stuff has got a lot easier since I started to love myself. I’ve stopped looking at myself in the negative an started to grow in the positive. I wish somebody had told me tis in my twenties.

The Japanese have a saying, you can only appreciate the sunny days after you have seen the rain. After going through the abject horror can you appreciate the wonders of life. Like a cashed up bogan in a two dollar shop, they can only see the cost, but not the value of what they are experiencing. It’s sad that it has taken so long to embrace the joy of self love. It’s never been something I’ve been ashamed of, but I wish it was something that I never had to feel shame about. That is one of the joys of a Methodist up bringing – no concern for the emotional level of things. If I was to have another life and another upbringing, it would be one where I was brought up to love my body, to love myself, and feel confident in. I’d have the confidence to pursue what I wanted earlier.

Today's song:



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