Monday, April 09, 2007

This post is about orgasms

In the past few days, I have been scouring my bookshelves and the net, on an NMJ-related quest for a particular Eeva Kilpi poem (no luck yet honey, but still trying). I found something else instead, though, also in relation to a conversation on the blogging ether.

There was something The Periodic Englishman said in one of his unique comments that I have felt the need to come back to. Because his comments pages are typically fourteen feet long, I shall save you the scrolling trouble and quote him directly here:

"I could probably just as easily have written about sex, as music – and in particular, orgasms (I’m being serious) - because there are some striking similarities. There is an unbearable sadness in giving in to desire and in the obliterating moments of a sated lust. It can feel hopeless and weakening and enough to make you cry, and yet the potent allure of such physical release completely defies description. It is too good, too shatteringly wonderful, too very nearly transcendental and unbalancing, altogether. But God alive, it can make you feel blue."

Now, I am not going to go into an analysis of my orgasmic potential (come ON, what were you expecting?). However, I am and have always (well, adult life anyway) been intrigued by the strange connection between sexual pleasure and an art-induced ecstatic state. A religious/mystical experience would probably qualify here too. There is a losing of oneself, a letting go, an out-of-time-ness associated with these things which are difficult to come by otherwise. I was sorely disappointed in the stupidity of my reply to PE on this - as I recall, I said "yes", how eloquent is that - so I am pleased to have found a quote that says some of the things I would've said, had I found the words. It is an Eeva Kilpi quote (so there is a line of thought running through this rambling post, after all, as you can see):

Orgasmissa ikuisuus lakkaa hetkeksi merkitsemästä ja ihminen vapautuu tietoisuudesta ettei ole ikuinen.
In the orgasm, eternity ceases to matter for a moment, and the person is freed from the knowledge s/he is not eternal.

(Ah, the translation would be so much more stylish, if only English didn't have gender-specific pronouns...)

Anyway - Happy Easter, one and all.

PS Much later - Having received some valued assistance with my translation, I offer you draft two:

"In the orgasm, eternity ceases to matter for a moment, and the person is freed from the knowledge they are not eternal."

Much, much better, isn't it, thank you PE...


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zombiepumpkin said...

These are music-as-sex worthy:
Al Jarreau/Bob James-Since I Fell For You
Ali Farka Toure-Ai Du
Aloe Blacc-What Now
Amon Tobin & Kid Koala-Untitled
Anjali---Misty Canyon
Aphex Twin---Windowlicker
Art Of Noise---Moments In Love
Atlanta Rhythm Section---Spooky
Basement Jaxx---Get Me Off
Bat 67---I Want You To
Bitter:Sweet---Don't Forget To Breathe, Heaven, Moody
Bjork---Hidden Place
Black Eyed Peas---Sexy
Boozoo Bajou---Astral Traveling
Brazilian Girls---Homme, Lazy Lover, Don't Stop
Buscemi---Midnight Sessions
Iron & Wine---Burn That Broken Bed
The Cars---Moving In Stereo
Chris Isaak---Wicked Game, Baby Did A Bad Bad Thing, Blue Spanish Sky
Chungking---Following, Making Music
Cibo Matto---Sugar Water
Daft Punk---Something About Us
Dead Can Dance---The Ubiquitous Mr. Lovegroove
Def Leppard---Love Bites
Dirty Old Ann---Turn Me On(Filth Dub)
Dirty Vegas---Days Gone By
DJ Logic---Spider Dance
DJ Shadow---Midnight In A Perfect World
Dave Matthews Band---Crash Into Me
Deftones---No Ordinary Love
Don Felder---All Of You
Donald Fagen---True Companion
The Doors---The Spy
The Dust Brothers---Marla
Dusty Springfield---Son Of A Preacher Man
Echo & The Bunnymen---Lips Like Sugar(Way Out West Remix), Killing Moon
Elysian Fields---Black Acres, Passing On The Stairs
Enigma---Shadows In Silence, Sadeness, Smell Of Desire
Erikah Badu---On And On, Next Lifetime
Esthero---Beautiful Lie, My Torture, If Tha Mood
Etta James---Let's Burn Down The Cornfield, A Sunday Kind Of Love
Faze Action---Close Your Eyes
Fiona Apple---Criminal, Slow Like Honey
Fluke---Baby Pain
Frou Frou---Let Go
Garbage---#1 Crush
George Michael---Father Figure
Golden Boy with Miss Kitten---Rippin Kitten
Goldfrapp---Train, Oh La La, Twist, Strict Machine, Slippage, Slide In, Ride A White Horse, Let It Take You
Gotan Project---Amor Porteno
Handsome Boy Modeling School---The Truth, I've Been Thinking
Hooverphonic---Mad About You
INXS---Devil Inside, Never Tear Us Apart
It Dreams---Feel It
Janet Jackson---Throb, That's The Way Love Goes
Jem---Come On Closer, Falling For You
Jessica Vale---Disco Libido
Jose Nunez---Bilingual(Dirty Mix)
Kate Bush---Running Up That Hill, The Sensual World
Kylie Minogue---Slow, Chocolate
Latin Playboys---Lemon'n'Ice
Lesbians On Ecstacy---Tell Me Does She Love The Bass
Lords Of Acid---I Sit On Acid, Lover
Lovage---Pit Stop, Anger Management, Sex(I'm A), Strangers On A Train, Lifeboat, Book Of The Month, Stroker Ace, Archie & Veronica, Koala's Lament, Lies and Alibis
Madeleine Peyroux---Between The Bars
Marcy Playground---Sex And Candy
Martina Topley-Bird---Anything, Sandpaper Kisses
Marvin Gaye---I Want You, Feel All My Love Inside, I Wanna Be Where You Are, Come Live With Me Angel, Sexual Healing, You Sure Love To Ball, Let's Get It On
Massive Attack---Karmacoma, Angel, Teardrop, Intertia Creeps, Black Milk, Mezzanine, Weather Storm
Melissa Etheridge---I'm The Only One
Melissa Ferrick---Drive
Moloko---Fun For Me
Morcheeba---Friction, The Sea, Part Of The Process, Undress Me Now, Fragments of Freedom, Trigger Hippie, Tape Loop
Mz' Diamond---Nasty Girl Wet, Passions Of Love
Nightmares On Wax---Les Nuits, Nights Interlude, Passion, Flip Ya Lid, Damn
Outkast---Funky Ride
Pink & Peaches---Oh My God
Paula Cole---Feelin' Love
Peaches---F**ck The Pain Away, AA XXX, Lovertits, Set It Off
Pet Shop Boys---West End Girls
Peter Gabriel---In Your Eyes
Poe---Hey Pretty, Fingertips
Pole Folder---Abrasion
Portishead---Dummy(whole album), Humming, Only You, Undenied, Cowboys
Pulp---Seductive Barry
Rabbit In The Moon---Time Bomb
Rare Earth---Come With Me
Robbie Robertson---Golden Feather, Broken Arrow, Somewhere Down The Crazy River, Take Your Partner By The Hand
Robert Plant---Big Log
Sade---Smooth Operator, The Sweetest Taboo
Sarah Fimm---Be Like Water, Lioness, In The Red, Sexual Animals, Virus
Sarah McLachlan---Ice Cream, Possession(Rabbit In The Moon Remix)
Si*Se---More Shine
Sia---Breathe Me
Smoke City---Mr. Gorgeous (and Miss Curvaceous)
Sneaker Pimps---6 Underground, Spin Spin Sugar
Supreme Beings Of Leisure---Rock And A Hard Place, So Much More, Never The Same, Last Girl On Earth, Truth From Fiction, Nothin' Like Tomorrow, What's the Deal
Suzanne Vega---Caramel
The Temptations---Just My Imagination
Tiga---Hot In Herre
Tom Neville---Just F**k
Tori Amos---Rasberry Swirl, Juarez
Tricky---Overcome, Hell Is Around The Corner, Pumpkin, Aftermath, Suffocated Love, You Don't, Hollow, The Love Cats
Underworld---Dark & Long
Malcolm McLaren---About Her(Kill Bill Soundtrack)
Violent Femmes---Color Me Once
Xlover---Faking It
Zap Mama---Bandy Bandy
Zero 7---Destiny, Distractions, In The Waiting Line, Passing By, In Time, Sommersault

Anna MR said...

Riiiight, zombiepumpkin. Hello.

Is that the contents of a folder on your iPod, or can you just list them alphabetically like that? I am stunned into silence here.

I do like Portishead and the Suzanne Vega song. And Björk (note and admire my Scandinavian umlauted keyboard).

But are you saying these induce an orgasm-like feeling of taking leave of one's senses, a loss of consciousness of sorts, or just that they are sexy songs? I would argue they were the latter. But then that's just me, and matters of personal taste cannot be argued about. Shouldn't be argued about. And I'm not arguing.

Am pleased to see you here, zp. Welcome back anytime.

Anna MR said...

PS Unless you are spam?

I am an innocent when it comes to these things. Not others, mind you.

nmj said...

hey anna mr, am delighted that you are on the eeva quest, i hope it may suddenly come to me, well the gist anyway & i can give you more clues, funny you mention periodic pony boy, i was just thinking of him today, where the hell is he these days?

Anna MR said...

Hey hunkins, I have a few Eeva K. things that probably aren't what you're after but are quite nice anyway, shall translate and share soon as can get round to it. If more of the gist comes to you, do let me know, it'll narrow it down some (she is quite prolific).

I'd guess Mr Clonakilty Ponipoika is out enjoying the weather - I had a few comments a week or so ago but not since. His mighty hoofprints and presence are missed - or perhaps he has blog fatigue - it seems to be doing the rounds. Annoyingly, I am out-of-synch with it as always, everybody else is quiet and I'm dying to blab away.

maht said...

Yoür ümlaüts are nice. I wish I coüld make ümlaüts.

Anna MR said...

Ähäkutti, maht. It's just too syötävän hyvää to have a suomalainen näppäimistö.

Living in the US for a year made my contact with the old country remarkably peculiar, un-umlauted as I there was.

Kanikoski said...

Oooh, yeah! Get into some of the climactic cadences in the best of baroque and classical church music, and you know what those guys were on....

The Moon Topples said...

Ännä: On a Mac, we just hit Option-U, and then the letter to ümlaüt.

American keyboards can be accomodating.

Anna MR said...

Mäht Möön Töpples, not on the American keyboard my poor Mac had to live with in the US. There was, to be fair, the very time-consuming option of going into Finder/Special characters and so on. I often gave up and used asterisks or a & o instead.

Ponipoika Stallion said...

And a (v. belated) Happy Easter to you too, Anna Mr.

Fourteen feet long? Oh, come on. I'm not THAT bad.

Incidentally, I said it before, but there was nothing wrong with your "yes" answer. Lovely to see you again. Too freaking weak to consider this just now, but I'm pretty sure you'll know it's on my mind. When is it not?

Hey NMJ - cooey. I'm really sorry sweety, I'll be over to see you soon.

Anna MR said...

Ah, this is a good day, The Stallion of Clonakilty rides again. Fantastic.

I am pleased you were not unhappy with the "yes" answer, Ponipoika - as I said, however, I was sorely dissatisfied with it. "Yes" was the best I could do - it was better than not saying anything about a topic I found highly interesting and worthy of lengthy discussion, or worse, coming up with some naff wordplay. I knew at the time I just couldn't find the words - still haven't really. Which leaves it a topic worth returning to.

Also, I have noted a distinct lack of enthusiasm in the comments section here to actually talk about the issue - no offence folks, we can natter about anything, it is fine - but apart from Kanikoski the Brave, nobody has so much as touched upon the subject or mentioned the "o" word. Everybody's willing to talk (about) sex, very few seem ready to discuss orgasms. Interesting.

Cruel Human Lab-Tests, Helsinki

Thrusting Ponipoika (filled with orgasmic shame) said...

Oh, I'm very interested in talking about orgasms, Anna MR - no problems there. I think, though, that it is sometimes a bloody difficult thing to talk about and this can make people feel uncomfortable.

You said yourself that you were struggling to find the words - and I know that I struggle similarly - so quit beating up your guests, you meany. It is far easier to talk about sex itself, unfortunately. And whilst this is an interesting enough topic, it certainly struggles to maintain my interest for too long (in conversation). What can you say, really? It is possible to be highly interested in sex without ever really needing to talk about it (analytically).

So, personally speaking, I am far more interested in talking about orgasms and the terribly sad and beautiful feelings they temporarily allow us to unleash. Alas, you almost always need to pass through some form of sex (quite often self-inflicted sex, yes) to reach an orgasm - so it can hardly be ignored in such a discussion. To that end, I think it would be a good idea if you talked dirty to me for a while. That seems like a sensible starting point. Definitely.

Where was I? So yes, I usually resist the mystic/religious line - these obliteratingly enjoyable (physical) feelings, after all, are merely a trick played on us by nature to make us want to procreate, surely?

Then again, this resistance of mine may simply be to the words themselves. They make me feel uncomfortable, for some reason. I recently had a (brief) conversation with someone which touched on the word "spiritual". This word also makes me recoil - it's just that sometimes it seems to be the only one fit for purpose (god dammit).

Somehow, it has suddenly become 3 in the morning. Bugger. Well, I'll know where to come for such a discussion in any event. Here or there, okay?

I hope you're bearing up well these days, Ice Maiden of Santa Land. See you soon. x

Anna MR said...

No hei taas, oh Stallion-Sage of the West. Kiva nähdä. Am particularly pleased with your signature page. Mmmm. Lovely.

Yes of course I know this is a difficult and awkward topic of blogversation, and some would probably say (with maybe a point to it too) also an intensely private one, one it would show bad taste to blog about. I understand this, and consequently have no intention of beating up my guests, no matter how hard they beg for it. I just noted a certain quietness, is all.

Yes, spiritual is one of those words again, a bit like evil. English boasting about its humongous amount of words might consider coming up with ones that mean the same but without the awkward load of religious connotation.

Sex and religion. Boy. It doesn't GET much more awkward than this, does it? And regarding the tricks of nature to get us to (want to) procreate, I did touch upon this topic too a while back, in a sudden fed-up-edness with the world of light flirt and double entendres (you know how I feel about those, don't you, Horse of County Cork). My comments page does funny things with urls but shall try to point you in the direction of this wee post, hope it doesn't go all fucked-up. I know I cannot sign my name or anything after it, as that anyway has proven to make bad things happen. So shall sign first and then link. Fare well, Thrusting One. Let's talk more soon.

The Ice Maiden

Anna MR said...

PS You used the word transcendental. I may consider stealing that and using it instead of spiritual. Just letting you know a theft may occur, so it doesn't surprise you.

nmj said...

ach, you don't hear from pony boy for days, weeks even, then he comes galloping back in, red hot hooves, to talk about orgasms - & ponipoika, why are you linking to finnish study websites, & why this one in particular? i can imagine you found a few & decided which one was best . . . come & visit me SOON.

oh dear, i wasn't really aware that i had skipped the orgasm issue, i was too focused on eeva - i looked in waterstones yesterday for those lines of hers, i was embarrassed to be looking at those godawful daisy goodwin books, but i couldn't find her poem, maybe it wasn't there i saw it originally, after all!

anyway, i suppose, to be honest,i am just not that interested in orgasms, except my own & the person i'm with.

*word verification: vhfcksy

Anna MR said...

VH fucksy, it doesn't get much apter than that. Hullo, nmj, my sweet. I hope that headache has lifted?

I was worried when I noted the lack of orgasmic comments (ha, ha) that I would offend. I hope I haven't. Our blogship is a year old, my darling. I would rather shoot myself in the comments pages than offend you, pet. x

Horse of County Cork said...

NMJ - there is no real way of knowing what fevered madnesses went through my mind when I picked a Finnish study website to link to. It was a disgraceful mistake, no doubts about it, and one I shall never repeat. No. Now is the time to be serious it seems (our freaky hostess seems to want to talk about religion and orgasms and horses and stuff - do you know her? She seems a bit intense, if you ask me)

Actually - and this is being serious for once - I'm really sorry NMJ for not being around to see you. I have simply been feeling peculiar, that's all, and the effort involved has defeated me. I still adore you and I am very well aware that we are due to be married this summer - but sometimes, for whatever reason, I just feel like shite and the world feels like something to be avoided. Even the beautiful elements. I'm sorry.

I'm 50% with you on the orgasm thing, by the way. You said that all you really cared about was your own orgasm and the ones of your partner in sweet crime. Like I say, 50% with you on that one. (Bad selfish strutty thrusty pony sex disaster boy - I will burn in hell, surely)

Ice Maiden, hei. Please feel free to steal whatever you like. It is a nightmare trying to find the right words, isn't it? The risks of sounding wanky are perilously high but sometimes - just sometimes - it is necessary to sound uber wanksville as these tricky paths are walked.

Personally, I am used to being a bit wanky and (secretly) quite enjoy it. Curious, though, that I should feel no shame in talking about orgasms in a public space but recoil with a rather embarrassed start from labels such as spiritual or mystical or whatever.

I'm glad to see religion brought into this whole thing - we were needing to try to simplify matters, so this should definitely help. (you FOOL, what have you done?)

I feel a bit frothy when I consider the role of religion in sex. I bitterly resent that a heap of resolutely un-laid men have been allowed to dictate the terms for so many. Where do they get off with inducing such shame in the masses for what is a perfectly natural act? Makes me mad.

Then again, shame itself can be a seductive and powerfully erotic playmate as the agonies of lust are relished. Or despised. Oh yes - there is nothing like feeling disgraced and disgraceful as the moment of truth arrives. This is a very long way of saying that the mental aspects of orgasm are far too often overlooked as the physical mechanisms (sounds erotic, no? mechanisms? Jesus) deployed to achieve them seem to fill people's minds.

Bloody hell. I need to go and have some lunch. Beautiful to see you both.

Poni Daddy of Clonakilty - just your average thrusting deviant little horse. xx

(I'll come back and clear up this mess later)

Anna MR said...

Hei Poni Daddy, what is it with you? I am again reduced to saying "yes", while I think of a suitable way to address the various items you raise, which I find infinitely interesting in their poignancy. Just to list, so as I don't forget what I need to get back to (and so as I can be saved from just saying "yes" to you all the bleeding time):

- ignorance of mental aspects of orgasm contra physical mechanisms (oh yes sir, love it when you talk so seductively dirty to me, mechanisms is just a word that does it to me every time)
- importance of shame in all this
- oppression of natural physicality by organised religion
- the necessary evil of talking wanksville (consider the word stolen), as well as the secret pleasures thereof

amongst other things.

Back to clean this mess up later, My Thrusty Stallion? Good, good.

The Ice Maiden, a frozen demure person of the North Pole X

nmj said...

anna mr, you could never offend me, it would just not happen, but i too spend a fair amount of time worrying that i have fucked things up with my tone in comments/emails, it's just hard to get it right sometimes...the headache is there but tolerable...thanks for asking...btw can i plant the finnish grass outside or is it indoor grass only, will it die outdoors? x

pony boy, i actually forgot we were getting married, i am sorry! i suppose i should get a dress or something. also, i LOVE the word wanky, but i just can't bring myself to use it online, & am glad when others do. it makes me happy.

Anna MR said...

Dear nmj, the wanky grass withered when I planted it outdoors in Wales, although Wales is Wanksville incarnate so it may enjoy Scotland better (not really, I loved Wales, rwy'n Cymraes fach, at least partially). I would personally recommend enjoying it indoors, though. DO trim it with nail scissors, however - that is intensely pleasurable in the write-on-the-bottom-of-your-slipper-with-a-biro sort of way, I have dug it a lot since childhood. Gives a wonderful smell of newly-mown lawns indoors. V. special.

Worrying about whether I have offended people in writing, be it emails, posts, comments, etc is something I writhe about in horrified agony, too. Getting to grips with that sort of thing is all part of my increasing-my-shame-tolerance effort, of which this blog (as you probably would know) is a central, focal point.

nmj said...

ah, that is a shame about the grass as the outside grass here is quite bald & 70% weeds, so a dose of finland would've done it the world of good, but i will not risk it! btw i have passed on fine mr z's tag to you, so i can be exempt, so there you go, you can tell us 5 things you obsess about if you wish!

Anna MR said...

Ah, you *rat*, you were supposed to do it TOO and then, should you wish to, tag me in retaliation of my tagging you.

But of course, I can't resist talking about myself, so shall have to accept. Hope Mr Z ain't too sorely disappointed. You'd better tell him.

nmj said...

Yes, Mr Z was informed, but he said I was cheating so I have just obliged, but I have done so at his blog.

By the way, I think I should mention that cutting the Finnish indoor grass was quite orgasmic.

The Periodic Englishman said...

I have absolutely no idea what either of you are talking about now. It seems - although I long ago learnt not to trust my addled mind - that the topic has moved on to the orgasmic qualities inherent in cutting Finnish grass, indoors - or did I miss something. Sheesh.

NMJ - it would be hard to detail adequately the pain I felt when reading that our impending marriage had somehow slipped your mind. You do know that I'm rather mentally unstable, don't you? How do you suppose this news will lie with me? Hmm? Away and buy a dress.

Ice Maiden - I just don't even know where to begin. Let's just agree that we needn't worry about sounding wanky - after all, who cares? Released from the burden of giving the tiniest fuck about what other people might think, we should be able to make quicker progress, no?

I'm only saying fuck because NMJ said it, too. (you did, NMJ, I saw it - so wheesht).

Good. This feels like progress. (no, it doesn't)

Wait. Are you even there just now, Ice Maiden? I'm just doing that thing where I talk into space again, amn't I? God dammit.

NMJ - are you there? Or have you gone, too?


Anna MR said...

Right then, Mr Periodic Englishman - fancy seeing *you* after all this let me prepare an answer worthy of you -

*hunches behind keyboard trying desperately to be both attratctive and intelligent*

I'll be back later

Anna MR said...

and she can't even spell attractive

Anna MR said...

Speaking of the Eurovision shit, make sure to watch it this year, the pair of you. It comes live from my hometown. I'll be waving to you both.

The Periodic Englishman said...

Wait. What in the name of all that is holy is going on here? I've looked - I really have - and I can see no previous mention of the Eurovision thing anywhere. Is it really in Helsinki, though? Result.

I used to love watching that show. Interestingly enough, it is capable of inducing a feeling of deep self-loathing and shame. Difficult, sure, to imagine reaching an orgasmic plane whilst watching such a thing, but I may just give it another shot this year. It certainly couldn't do any harm. It's definitely in Helsinki, right? Our capital? Wow. That makes me feel quite proud.

I suppose this means that someone Finnish won it last year. Was it a good "song" or not? I struggle to think of anything really decent being entered into this campest campfest campetition since ABBA left the scene in the year 1342. BC.

My my, at waterloo napoleon did surrender
Oh yeah, and I have met my destiny in quite a similar way
The history book on the shelf
Is always repeating itsELLLLLF.........

Waterloo - I was defeated, you won the war
Waterloo - la la la la la la la la laaaaa......

And so on and so forth. It still bugs me that this was deemed an insufficient answer to the third question in my O Level history exam. And this was at a Steiner school, bear in mind. I thought my inventive use of historical source material would be rewarded. It wasn't. Like I say, still hurts a bit.

Oh, talking of which - the Montessori thing. You mentioned it in a previous post (I think it is maybe my turn to respond, but I can't quite remember - where is that post? I need to go back there). Have you ever met Reading The Signs, by the way - a fellow blogger? She is very nice and I think you would get on. I can never remember which bloggers know each other. Anyway, I have to go and visit her again just as soon as I've seen the wretched NMJ - did you notice that she kissed you but not me, by the way? I noticed. What's that all about? Is it not enough that she forgot the wedding without this further very public snub? I'll need to have strong words with her.

Are you aware that it is after 3 in the morning again, Ice Maiden of Campsville? You bring out the worst in me.

I'm singing now, Anna MR.

My my, at Waterloo Napoleon did surrender.....

The Moon Topples said...

Ach! Now that PE is back, I suppose there's no point in us little folk attempting to grace your comments section.

(nice to see you again, PE)

Anna MR said...

My dear Mr Periodic, you need to click on the word "hilarious" on my list of labels (I am taking you at face value here, believing you when you claim not to know about the historical events of last year's Eurovision campetition. I may live to regret this naivety of mine).

I was planning on saying something serious. What the devil was it?

Ah yes - the mental aspect of orgasms. I remember. Of course the case is it all takes place in the brain (which, as I'm sure you know and have noticed, is the most complex and complicated thingy on the planet), the remainder of a person's physique being just a giant receptor to the brain. If it doesn't feel right in the mind, we can rub and rummage all we like and it will just be so much rubbing and rummaging, about as altered-state inducing - no, probably a bit less - than an average handshake.

Hm. This sounded ok when I thought of writing it, but now it sounds obvious and wanky. This happens to me with relative frequency. But I soldier on, deftly avoiding any chance of not falling into the pitfalls of über wanksville.

NMJ, my sweet, I am so glad it felt good. There's nothing quite like giving your friends and blogpals the incomparable experience of Orgasmic Indoor Lawn-Mowing for Easter. It takes a certain type of person to enjoy it, though, so I am very glad I didn't misjudge you in this matter.

Eurovision song contest on May 12th. Be there, or be square, all both of you.

Anna MR said...

Now Mr Moon, stop being like that. (Good morning)

There is no need to be jealous. It doesn't become you.

The Periodic Englishman said...

Maht, Moon, The Moonster of Toppledom - beautiful to see you again, too. I hope you're feeling just tickety-boo these days - it is the only way to be. Apart from all the others, of course, but still. Anyway, enough of the self-deprecation already, Moony Tunes - it just makes me blush like a weakling, and NOBODY wants that to happen.

Ice Maiden, hei. How are you feeling today? I hope that everything is (still) okay with you.

No, I didn't think it sounded wanky at all. This may just be because I am almost preternaturally wanky myself, however - I don't know.

Anyway, I'm in a bit of a rush this morning. So....very briefly. Yes.

Just one thing. You're right about the brain and the screamingly delicious extra layers of potent "otherness" the mind can add to orgasms - BUT. An orgasm without any real mental stimulation is still a nice physical feeling - it is not nothing, Anna MR. And it IS an altered state, an altered physical state, and this remains a pretty good thing as far as I can see.

I know what you mean about stuff sounding better in your head than when you actually commit it to writing. It comes out looking or feeling trite and obvious and this can be absolutely infuriating. I read you though, sweety, and you are neither of these things. I fully accept your hinterland and know that you're coming from a very good place. Relax. (Rub and rummage - nice. That was funny)

Plus, sometimes even the obvious needs to be stated (again and again). It is surprising how very easy it is to lose sight of it, otherwise.

Am excited by news of the impending campetition in Helsinki. V. excited. Will be buying spangly outfit for viewing. Come, oh tuneless tunes, and bathe me in camp.....


Anna MR said...

Mr Periodic, esteemed Ponipoika, much as I hate to argue against your greater wisdom in matters orgasmic and otherwise, I would argue (anyway) that the mental stimulation provides the physical experience. Zero mental stimulation = zero physical experience, I believe to be the mathematical formula for the phenomenon. This, in its turn, results in the afore-mentioned rub-and-rummage (glad you liked that). But I will allow for some difference between the sexes here, as I am lead to believe a rub-and-rummage school of orgasm is more possible in the males of the species than the females (please admire how scientific I am being).

The spangly outfit just cries out to be made viewable by us all. Oh, actually, bugger everybody else, *I* want to see it. Need to see it. Don it now, sir. Please.

Anna MR said...

PS *That* was the strangest mangled Mac-Scottish-Play quote I have ever read, to date, sir.

The Periodic Englishman said...

Seriously - I'm going out now, so I've got to sprint.

Bloody good point, Ice Maiden, concerning the differences for men and women. Concur. It's frustrating for me to not know what it is women feel - the differences, the similarities, the whole experience, really - and so I am reduced to talking about these things from my own (male) perspective. I rather hate this fact. Of course, I can listen and be told, but I'll never know how it FEELS - and this is where my frustration lies in these matters. It is horribly limiting. Then again, this suggests that there is a uniform feeling for all women, and this seems patently nonsensical - just as the feelings for men probably vary sharply. Certainly, there are different categories of orgasm, I find, and each does a different kind of thing for me. I hope this makes sense. Nightmare. Still disagree, though. Orgasms without mental stimulation are both possible and nice - just less, that's all.

Racing now. Back later.

nmj said...

Well, I don't think I can ever have sex again without that phrase 'rubbing & rummaging' in my head. That is hilarious!

Pony Pony Pony Boy, I saw later I had not kissed you, you have to remember I am quite retarded in concentration sometimes, here are a hundred kisses to soothe you: 100x Sorry I forgot about the wedding, I did however dream last night that I married my f/l/btf, & I was so glad to wake up, that would be a terrible mistake for us both. And maybe it wasn't him I was marrying but you, so the dream was a warning, that you & I should not be wed, Pony Boy - can we not just be lovers instead? You with your hot hooves & spangly costumes, now that sounds quite lusty & divine. Btw, lovely Anna had sent me some indoors Easter grass, that is what we are referring to.

Ponipoika said...

Ha! NMJ - I know what you mean about the rub and rummage thing that Anna MR disgracefully put in the public domain. It kind of sticks in the mind, doesn't it? Very, very funny, but a bit of a bugger to get out of one's head.

God damn it, though, I have (more than) one thousand lovers already - it's a wife that I need, wench. Oh well, with a very heavy heart I suppose I'll just have to add you to my stable of pretty little fillies (I just know this phrase will make you slap me hard across my horsey chops - but it was worth it, nevertheless. I enjoyed writing it, and that has got to count for something, no?)

Still, the kisses worked a treat - nice one.

The indoor grass thing. That is really a rather beautiful gift to receive, I feel (good for you, Ice Maiden). I have a feeling I have read this somewhere before, so I'm sorry for forgetting. I am having massive trouble processing and keeping information right now (black spell) and this, I imagine, is a feeling you are familiar with (due to your illness). Pretty bloody irritating, really, all things considered.

Anyway, I really like the thought that Anna MR is lovely enough to send you such a thing. A most excellent present to receive.

Okay, I'm going to go and get to work on my spangly costume. It's going to be brilliant.

Hot hoofing in your direction, NMJ. I'll see you later. X

Helsinki - where on earth are you? I'm missing you badly here. Get a move on, whatever you may be doing. Attend to the needs of your guests, Ice Maiden, or learn to live with regret.

Wow. I think I may just have sounded tough for the first time in my hopeless little life. Result. x

Anna MR said...

Oh, Ponipoika, now I feel guilty and bad, although I have only been rehearsing mad Solange, and I couldn't possibly back out of it, or Fionna (directing, Irish, so need to watch out with her) would've, well, I don't know what but I hate to think, so, well, but here I am now, attending to your needs, my esteemed guests.

Cup of tea, anyone? Or a chat about orgasms, mushrooms, cutting indoor grass with nail scissors, rubbing & rummaging (ooh!) ?

Where the devil are you people, I have been here for at least six minutes. I am pouting now.

Poni said...

About time, you abject creep. And pouting? Dangerous move, Finland, very dangerous move.

Yes please, tea would be lovely - no sugar, just milk. I have no idea where NMJ is. I wrote her a lovely note (on her blog) congratulating her on the book news - and she simply refuses to publish it or acknowledge me in any way, shape, or form. It is a sensational falling out - no doubts about it. We may never speak again, I fear.

How are you, Anna? Did rehearsals go well? I really think you should spend a little bit more time here - and not be bothering so much with acting or, you know, work and stuff. It's mighty lonely here at times.

Normally I could spend my time apart from you bothering my (far flung) friends by email - but even that option is denied me right now because my bloody email account is playing up badly. Hmm?

So you have really let me down here, Ice Maiden, by being busy with your life and not servicing your blog (that sounds disgusting - sorry).

Be well, Solange.

Rutting Horse

(aflame with fury)

Anna MR said...

Ponipoika, I can see your hooves clip-clopping on my stats. Stop being so silent. Talk to me in your gentle, wise, and funny neighs.

Anyway, since you're not saying anything, not even a whinny, I shall, because I actually HAVE something to say. It is my turn, now, to concur. Your point concerning the patent nonsensicality of a uniform female orgasm experience is a v. good one. It (my point) was a load of bollocks, when viewed from this point. Trouble is, with these things, one can only really talk from one's own viewpoint and experience, although there is a strong temptation to generalise one's own, or, I suppose, somebody else's experience ("this bloke told me once this was what he liked & what it was like for him so it must be true for all men" = abject nonsense bollocks of course).

Therefore, I fear, we are reduced to talking about ourselves. Scary.

Poni said...

Ha! You are a loon. Anything to say? Hint - it begins with S.

Anna MR said...

A playing-up email account, dearest Eire Stallion? That is indeed bad news. You will need to get that seen to, since I will have to go to work tomorrow. (No I don't actually, I will have to go to a First Aid course.) Either way, it means there's going to be a break in services. Although you are more than welcome to canter, gallop, and loiter around here in my absence as well as in my presence, as you know. My igloo is your igloo, as we say around here (but only when we really mean it, we Finns don't do small talk. Niin. As you would know, Komea Suomen-Iirin Hevonen.)

I am wondering whether to point you towards photographs taken by keltanen at tonights rehearsals. Solange has on her haggard mad maid stage make-up. She is not looking v. pleasing to look at, to be sure. Rehearsals (so kind of you to ask) themselves went, well, depends on whom you listen to. Fionna the Mighty, whom we all live in mortal fear of (not really, she is a sweetie, are you reading this Fionna? love you girl xx) said we were so terrible she won't bother giving much notes. I, on the other hand, thought we were much better than I expected us to be (us=me here). I had to call line a few times but nowhere near as much as I had feared, and this was our first stumble-through off book, so...

I am waffling uninterestingly about something that only interests me, I can feel it. Sorry. What do you want to talk about, Esteemed Equine Man?

poni said...

No way. Have you disappeared again? Outrage. Absolute outrage.

(you made good points, by the way - agreement all round)

The Periodic Englishman said...

No, you haven't disappeared. I'm just a dick. I need to read your response now - hang on.

Anna MR said...


Lemme think.

Sugar. Solange. Sweeties. Stables. Sausages. Sitcoms. Stewardesses. Singapore. Statistics. Stomata. Sacramento. Sacraments. Swords. Swastikas. Sirens. San Salvador. Sand. Sandcastles. Sessions. Sky. Sensibilities. Sensitivities. Senses. Sensuousness. Sensuality.

Racking my wee feminine brain here, sir...

poni said...

God. Fionna sounds bloody scary - but lovely, too. I just thought I had best say that in case she is reading this (as you hinted she might be).

How long before your lines are fully committed to memory? Do you have to do special tricks to make yourself remember them?

Yes, point me towards those photographs, please. Do you feel embarrassed to do such a thing? If you do, don't. Okay?

Do you feel nervous about all of this? Does it keep you awake at night that you may forget your lines etc? God - I'm hardly sounding encouraging, am I?

I'm sure you'll be brilliant.

Hot Horse

poni said...

SORRY - you cheeky freaky finn. That is the word you are looking for, as you very well know. Bad-mouthing my non-appearance whilst all the while I was there.

Sensuality is good too, though. And stables.

Anna MR said...

Ooops. Yes. Yes indeedly, as some are liable to say.

Sorry. Big Sorry. Bad-mouthing my esteemed guests while they have been here all the while. How crap is that? Pretty shagging crap if you ask me.

More nonsense to follow in a mo...

Poni said...

Checking the timepiece I hold in my hoof, Helsinki.

Drumming and thrumming my other hooves with impatience.....

Snorting now, Finland.

(wow. I'm totally screwed in the head)

Anna MR said...

Ach, Flower of Scotland, of course you can look at the photos. Just remember it is stage make-up, ok?

And don't let wee Amanda (playing Madame) bother your mind too much, ok Horse of Cork?

poni said...

Yay. Nice one, Anna. I saw the pictures. I'll probably see them quite a few times, I imagine.

Am going to go and see if my email is working yet. Back soon.

Anna MR said...

He has disappeared.

I *knew* I shouldn't have pointed him towards the photos.

Lines, since you ask. Line learning has not usually been problematic for me - I have (had) a near-photographic memory, so if I read a page 5 - 10 times, it creates a page in my mind, off which it is easy to read the lines. They then become linked with the blocking (i.e. the onstage movements, this one would go here, then she's strangle her sister, then she'd have a cup of tea, that sort of stuff - just in case you're unfamiliar with theatre terminology) and hey presto.

I say "usually". This one is proving devilishly hard - translated text, quite convoluted, repetitive lines. And I can't seem to create those mind pages as well as I used to. That is a bit worrying. But by and large, no, I don't worry about losing my lines onstage (should, though, I suppose, as saying that out loud is courting disaster). I do, however, get humongous stage fright nerves every shagging time I go on, the last two minutes become two aeons in which universes are created, develop life, wither and die, and all the while, my poor heart beats like a mad thing, so hard I can actually see it moving my clothing. Uuugh. Stage nerves is baaad.

Where the dickens are you man?

Anna MR said...

Oh, ooops, oho. My bad. Sorry again, you were there.

poni said...

You see, this is why people used to talk on the phone in the olden days. Real-time blog conversations are mighty hard to pull off - mainly due to the poor performance of the blog host, I might add.

I am miffed at the world all of a sudden. My email thing is still knackered, it has just started raining, NMJ has abandoned me forever (it's true), you are weird - oh come on, you just are - and my dog is sleeping.

I can't even find it in my selfish heart to tell you how impressed I am by your line-learning skills. And a near photographic memory? Are you a kind of genius, Anna MR? I think you might be, you know.

I cannot imagine for the life of me how you would control such stage-fright. Like I say, you may just be a genius.

Nope. I am too blue to praise you.

Anna MR said...

Oh dear, you Selfish Blue Poni. And here I was, thinking how your sudden silence of what, 15 minutes, must have meant you had re-established email contact with some lucky far-flung friend.

NMJ will come back to you I'm sure, your dog will awaken. It'll stop raining. Don't be miffed. I will continue to be weird, this is sad but true. But hey, weird can add a touch of something to life sometimes, no?

What that something is - well. Who knows.

Anna MR said...

A genius? Hell no.

Sweet of you to say so, though.

*The Ice Maiden has a wee melty moment. She does a nice line in wee melty moments.*

Anna MR said...

I have that horrendous feeling of talking in an empty igloo. Helloooo, Ireland? Helsinki calling?

( -ling, -ling, -ling - empty igloo echo effect)

Stage fright cannot be controlled, it can only be suffered. I often kick walls and say "fuck" quite a lot. I also hold onto my tits for security, but don't tell anybody. I consider myself lucky, though, as mine (stage nerves, not tits) always go when I open my mouth and start, after that it is a blissfull flow state of one "now" after another, addictive.

If I don't hear of you in this igloo in five minutes, I'll have to bid you hyvää yötä and slip under my covers. You know what that means, don't you? Yeees. No services until tomorrow, amongst other things. I am a crap hostess. But a fond one.

happy poni stallion said...

Hey - get under the covers and go to sleep, fairest Finn. As I look at my Finnish watch, I see that it is after two in the morning in our homeland. You should sleep, Anna MR. Sorry for keeping you up.

See you soon, Ice Maiden of the Frozen Wastelands.

(I kick walls and say "fuck" quite a lot too, by the way - spooky)

nmj said...

Ha, I bet I say fuck more than both of you, & I kick things too, especially the Brabantia bin in the kitchen, which is impossible to get the bin bag out of, I wrestle with it & scream & kick it, it has dents.

Pony Boy, Never never never will I abandon you. Brand that promise into your head, please. Now tell me, do you have a spangly costume for sleeping in too?

Ponipoika said...

Sensation. NMJ - hello darling. I think Anna MR has gone to bed now.

Would you like me to have a spangly costume to sleep in? Because I can arrange this (v. quickly) if it would please you? Hang on.

There. All done. If you'll forgive me, NMJ, but I actually look rather magnificent right now. Truly.

God I hate those bins where you can't get the thing out. The bag can rip, you know? There can be spillage. Who designs these things? The sides should be expandable, so that when lazy people (like us) put too much rubbish in their bins for too long - there need never be a problem. Failing that, the bins themselves should be disposable.

That would be a kind of clever comment on the state of our throwaway society or something or other - it's after midnight, though, and my brain is slowing down, NMJ - superstar writer, that you are.

Glad to hear you'll never abandon me. Have branded your loyal message onto my right hoof. Wherever I may gallop in the future, I will surely now know you are waiting for me to return.

Seriously - I make myself puke. Lovely to see you though, NMJ. x

(can't quite believe you say "fuck" a lot, though - seems unlikely, for some reason)

nmj said...

Good, poika pony - next time you feel engulfed by fears of abandonment, have a look at that right hoof (front or back?).

Yes, I am partial to swearing, it is not a good trait.


Ponipoika said...

Front, NMJ. It means I can more readily see the message whilst out canter-strutting around the fields. I catch a glimpse as my hoof lifts off the ground and I leap - Superman style, with front hooves outstretched before me - over fences and hedges and loads of other stuff. This is all 100% true. It keeps me real. Word.

Yes, I know what you mean about swearing not being a good trait. I never swear directly AT someone, but can find swear words dropping in and out of my conversation (and written words) almost unnoticed (by me). I don't really believe that any words are inherently bad, just that they can be used in an unpleasant manner - something I avoid, unless it is part of some deviant sexual practise (where the harshness of certain words can be useful), or if I feel it is a needed and realistic addition to any dialogue I may be crafting as I write.

I also like making words up - totally random and ridiculous words - that sound fairly sweary and filthy, but mean precisely nothing. It should come as a relief to most right-thinking people that I rarely venture out of my home, all things considered.

I'm not really sure why I find it surprising to learn that you swear, often as a kind of reflex. It's really quite funny and pleasing to know, in fact.

Swearing itself is a bit different from cursing, though. I've been looking at Finnish cursing on the inernet - what of it? I am immersing myself in my new culture - and have been rather staggered by the harshness of their (our) favoured imprecations. Honestly NMJ, these people are dirty cowboys. I am a broad-minded and very liberal sort of a Poni when it comes to these things, but even I have occasionally felt the need to cover my eyes with my hoof.

Have a look for yourself. Take smelling salts.

Anna MR - I am feeling very happy today. I just thought I'd let you know that. My email is working again - hurrah! access to the wider world membership of the Poni Club - and everything seems sweet. Quite beautiful, really.

You have maybe taught NMJ the worst of Finnish already? I don't want to litter your blog with these harsh Finnish expressions - who knows what sort of a crowd this would attract? - but I feel she should at least be made to understand the depths of Finnish depravity. It seems only fair to warn her. Just saying.

Warmest regards to both of you......

poni said...

Fuck. That should of course be "internet". Not "inernet".

nmj said...

hey branded happy hooves,

yes, i know the very bad finnish word beginning with 'v', which, as you know, is the very bad english word beginning with 'c', which i could never use in blog, without asterisks.

pony, you are in high spirits, & you are making me in high spirits with your very poniness of being.

his royal poniness said...

Ha! Brilliant news, NMJ. Feeling happy and light pretty much rules, doesn't it?

The very poniness of my being is giving me cause to feel happy today, too. Most unusual, but magic when it happens.

NMJ - you have been writing about football in your blog. What is wrong with you? (don't just say Totti, k?) Football, as a thing, needs to be avoided quite fiercely.

I also noticed a wee while back that you had written a post about cricket (I love you, darling) and that you said you just couldn't see what the appeal was (I hate you, donkey-breath). It is from ages ago - before it was your pleasure to know me, I think - but it hurts me every time I pass it.

You have surely been wowed by the Cricket World Cup, though? Sensation. Ireland. Death. Murder? Fancy costumes.

What's not to like? I really need to find a post on your blog to disfigure - I'm feeling a bit sheepish about this, still - because it hardly seems fair to the Ice Maiden to scar her blog with tough-guy talk of cricket and pansy lady-girl talk of socceroo, does it?

Mind you, she could care less. Have you noticed how she pretty much bangs on about anything that comes into her head? Quite often before her head has even had time to process the information that has arrived, in fact. Stark. Bleak. Lusty.

What? Anyway, you seem particularly lovely today, NMJ. And it never hurts to say so.

Big kiss in your direction from an exuberantly sunny Ireland....

nmj said...

But, Pony, I don't care a jot about football, if Totti played cricket, I would be a cricket fan, don't you see??!! And I have NO idea what is going on in cricket just now, so your words are entirely lost on me. I know that the coach of Pakistan died in a mysterious way, see my knowledge is so tabloidy, I know nothing of the (alleged) beauty of the game. Feel free to besmirch & abuse any one of my posts, dazzling, spangly Pony. (Note, no more kisses from me today, because I can feel that you are less needy, & you know anyway you can't have kisses all the time . . .)

scuffed knee Pony said...

But I just tripped when I was outside. Kiss it better.

I see what you mean, then. It really is just a Totti thing. Fair enough, I am hardly in a position to complain about that (cf. Ivan Lendl and tennis - he was just so broody, so mirthlessly anguished, I simply couldn't resist him)

Will have some lunch - am having straw today, yippee - and then begin search for a suitable post of yours to abuse. May wait till sun goes down, in fact. It really is a most beautiful day here.

Anna Mr, hei. Where on earth are you, I wonder? Here - have some sunshine from the Deep South. No no, I insist, we have plenty. Don't mention it, really.

(your igloo echo effect was disgraceful, by the way - please don't think I failed to notice it)

Anna MR said...

Hello all, I am here. Don't you two *dare* disappear, you were here seven minutes ago and do you know what it costs to keep up an igloo? I don't know either, but I am not going to keep it all snug and warm for you lot if you fuck of johonkin hevonvittuun straightaway when I come. (sorry nmj, not implying your blog is a hevonvittu of a place, if that's where you lot are - but stay here for a mo and talk to me too, people, or I will have to pout. Again. Big style.)

Anna MR said...

That should be "fuck off", of course, not "fuck of". Fuck. Sorry. I was in a hurry to catch you two.

Sir Horsealot said...

Hmm. Such a needy greedy little Finlander. Fingers slipping on your keyboard as you lustily try to catch our attention.

NMJ has buggered off, I think. I'll hopefully see her later though. You, on the other hand, need to kick this habit of living in a freakishly wrong time-zone. It just spoils it for everyone, Ice Maiden. There is sunshine to be had outside, and I intend to have it.

How are you today, most delectable Finn? We missed you earlier, you know? Now you'll pay for it.

(I just bet NMJ saunters in and ruins this for me - I'm trying to sound tough and in control of things)

Buggering off into the sunshine now. Back later. xxx (kind of spoils the tough stance, those kisses, but still)

Anna MR said...

Oh all right, mea maxima culpa, I live on the North Pole and the time-zone's fucked. I shall have to un-pout now.

Lovely to see you guys, though. Even you, nmj, hiding away as you are somewhere completely different. You rat.

Anna MR said...

I was actually going to add a new thought to the orgasm bank, concerning the mental/physical stimulation debate:

a suitably interesting mental stimulation item might actually cause (even) a self-inflicted orgasm to be more seismic than a rub-and-rummage style non-self-inflicted one.

This purely theoretically, hypothetically, you understand. To underline my point about the importance of mental stimulation.

Anna MR said...

And you should, Poni Horsealot, go out and enjoy the sunshine. I am of the opinion that horses thrive in fresh air.

nmj said...

I am here, having done my late afternoon tasks, but I am going into the garden to the sun, it will not last x

ponipoika said...

She's not here, NMJ. I've no idea where she is. I don't know what the world is coming to. I'm coming to look round your house. You'd better be in. Or not. I'm easy.


nmj said...

Pony Lover, does the sun last in Ireland? In Scotland, as you will remember, it is accompanied by sharp stabs of icy wind in between the warm rays, it is very annoying. Anna MR, do you have unseasonal globally warmed sun in Finland just now?

The Periodic Englishman said...

It does, NMJ. It is too gorgeous. It is after 7pm now and there is still a little warmth in the air yet. I remember the icy winds of Scotland, of course, and they are to be found here, as well - just not as much. Being outside in the garden becomes easy, a delight as opposed to a guilty chore that one feels should be done just because the sun is out. Easy peasy Japanesy. It is unseasonably warm, however. Not complaining.

I thought you said that because I was studded up with lovers already you considered yourself surplus to my lusty requirements - do you not think I read your blog, sweetheart?

No, wait. You're not calling me your lover, are you? Just someone who loves ponies? Damn. And damn again. (I've just been to your house, NMJ)

Ice Maiden - this is beyond a joke. You are the least responsive blog host I have EVER known. Apart from NMJ (shh...)


nmj said...

Pony Boy, Have you not worked out yet how FICKLE I am?

And forgetful.

I forgot I had declared myself redundant in that lusty role.

I have changed my mind. There.

Do you object, Horseman in a warmer Ireland than Scotland, that I have decided that we can be lovers?

Your loss, horsey pony, your loss.

pony swoon said...

Fuck. I think Anna MR is right. Purely mental orgasms are entirely possible, after all. No rubbing, no rummaging. Just a gallopingly seismic event through the power of mental stimulation alone. Thanks, NMJ. I owe you one. What a delicious thought. Lovers it is, then.

I have just disgraced myself. I can feel it.

Ach, well.

ICE MAIDEN - where the hell are you? Help.

Anna MR said...

Here I am my dears, all yours for the night.

Now where are you?

Seismically Mental Pony Boy, you have admitted in front of these witnesses I was right. Ha and ha. I *am* right, how could you doubt it?

Mind you, not all non-mental sex needs to be rubbing and rummaging. I suppose, technically, hypotehtically, scientifically, it could be nice, too.

(Shh, I am playing devil's advocate here, NMJ, let's see if it drives Ponykins up the stable walls.)

nmj said...

Hey Anna MR, we have been in Scotland at mine, talking about our mutual lack of interest in the royal family. I'm sure you would have some fine democratic Scandinavian words on this.

Anna MR said...

Where at yours? Shall hasten there no end.

Anna MR said...

NMJ, Ponipoika, gather round, shh (I need to whisper this):
Ms Signs has been here and has left me a firm warning about us all veering wildly off course. She says she'll be back, too, to check that things are - how did she put it? - back on course, or something.

Oh no. We'll be found out: we can't stay on the topic of orgasms, we veer off to talk about Eurovision song contests instead. How will we survive the shame if she tells people?

Ponipoika said...

Where? When? How?

You need to switch on that comment moderation thing that NMJ has, Anna MR. Hold back any comments from Reading The Signs until I have had a chance to address her elsewhere. I owe her 7 million words or something like that, so I don't want her coming in here with an attitude and making me look bad. She knows stuff. She is dangerous. Fear her, Anna MR - I know that I do.

But wait - do you mean to say that she wants to join a conversation about Eurovision or about orgasms?

Knowing her as intimately as I do, I should be prepared to bet that she doesn't want to talk about Eurovision. Let's just leave things at that.

I hope you're sleeping well, Anna. You are a very good host, really. You do Finland proud.

RTS - if you are reading this, then I suggest you step inside. Like your place, this is a good place. And, frankly, we could all do with a bit of guidance. Not me, obviously, I'm well on top of my game. But the others. (they're all over the shop)

Night night

nmj said...

Pony, You should know that I got a hit on my blog from someone looking for PONIPOIKA. I also got one fom someone looking for DAVID TENNANT'S PENIS.

I think lovely Signs can be quite the ringmaster when she puts her mind to it.

poika poni (aka ponipoika) said...

I'm sort of hoping that's true about Ms Signs, yes. It certainly holds a very particular appeal - hurt me, Signs, hurt me.

Wow. That's a badly inappropriate start to the day even by my debased standards. Time for my medication, nurse.

No WAY did you get a hit for Ponipoika, NMJ. That is so corrupt, I can't quite believe it. There are a lot of Ponipoika's out there, unfortunately - I've checked - and it seems only natural, I suppose, that people should be searching for their own pony. Kind of sweet, really.

Still, have changed name for time being just in case. I am left wondering if the hit on your site came from south-east asia, however. Would I be close in that assumption? Just a yes or no, sweety, nothing else please.

Grave news on the old David Tennant penis front, though. There are a ot of very bad people out there, NMJ, and you need to be very careful. Yes indeedly do.

Who is David Tennant? Ahhh, THAT David Tennant. Have attached fan site link for your enjoyment, if it helps. He is soooooo cute.

Justly Thrustily,

Your Pony.


(Hello Finland)

The Periodic Englishman said...

Just checking to see if my new and magnificent profile picture works. Don't be scared.

The Periodic Englishman said...


nmj said...

Poika Pony, Not sure about the new profile photo, we, who know you, understand it, but if newcomers happen upon your blog, they will think you are a home counties teenage girl (posing as a periodic englishman) who likes horses.

I think you need to find something more ironic.

Sorry to rain on your parade x

nmj said...

ps. ponipoika google came from hong kong

The Periodic Englishman said...

Yes, as I suspected. Excellent news. Hong Kong is home to some seriously deranged people. Today is just so sweet tasting. You have given me valuable ammunition to use against a friend, NMJ - and that feels mighty fine.

Don't worry about raining on my parade, I enjoyed it. How about this picture, then? Still a bit lame and teenage girl-ish, maybe? Be careful, though, because this is my new Flickr profile picture - and will remain so whatever you might say. So just go easy on me, okay? Or not.

The sun is shining, NMJ, and everything feels miraculous.

Poika x

(Finland - wtf? Where are you?)

The Periodic Englishman said...

Oh my God. I've just been looking over Zombiepumpkins list of songs at the top of this page again. There is only one song that I recognise. One song. (Sade - smooth operator, if anyone cares). But this feels disgraceful. I recognise a handful of the artists, sure, but just one song. That's it. I feel old. And rather faint, actually.

Fuck. How utterly depressing.

Mind you, I'm more with Kanikoski on these matters (if he was being serious). But still. One song. That hurts.

Anna MR said...

Uh-oh, I have a lot of catching up to do. Better get started.

Hello, dear friends. Lurvely to see you. I am all fresh and sauna'd and I must say I feel fabulous for it, although I have missed you guys. Should you want to pop in some Tuesday night, nine pm, you know. There's space.

Anyway. Hong Kong. I was stalked by a Hong Konger the other day. Bugger had gone through quite a large portion of my blog and spent something like 14 minutes doing it. They had come referred from NMJ's site, so I do hold you partially responsible for it, alright? However, I had had reason to stalk a HongKonger a while back myself, as it happens, so all things being equal, I didn't blame them or you or anyone too much. The karmic rule of blogstalking seemed to remain in equilibrium.

I am in a talking-total-bollocks mood, I can tell.

I like the new photo, Stallion Poika (we'll have to start being all sly here, won't we). I came very close to favouriting one of the same ilk on your flickr site - but thought maybe you'd think I was nuts (I mean really! what a thought) so didn't in the end.

I am really rather disappointed in this David Tennant nonsense. I liked Christopher Eccleston, myself. If it had been a case of - no never mind.

Stallionic One, don't worry re zombiepumpking bloody list. It had me quite baffled as well, for a number of reasons - I went through some very contorted thought processes attempting to unlock the mystery of his identity and the reason for his posting a comment. Following him up online lead me to some really rather, ahem, not to say unsavoury sites, but some with more action, shall we say, than others. Apart from smooth operator, I listed just about all the songs I recognised in my reply to him (him? could be a her, too, I suppose, I mean who's to know, these days, who's Maude and who's Claude, right?) - so if you are reading this, zombiepumpkin, I am a right old fart but a proud one (back me up on this you two).

I shall go for a fag now. American readers, I am going to go and eat a homosexual person on my balcony.

Come and say hello, nmj, Sir Stallion Horsealot. I am feeling companionable.

nmj said...

god, you have to scroll So far down to see the latest here! anna mr, you missed poika pony's first attempt today at a new sexy blog photo, it was really quite lacking in substance, it was a big brown horse standing at a gate...should i look at his flick'r thing? you know i hate flick'r, i can't navigate it ...

Anna MR said...

Hullo, honey, just been over to your place to give another titbit on me & Ed.

I saw The Poni's before-the-inflatable-cat new photo; in fact, I can still see it. I hate to disagree with you, and you know I rarely do, but I do quite like the angle. Gives it a certain something.

I know, we really are quite far downstairs here. Let's just see how low we can go.

Kanikoski said...

Mr PE, Sir, I was indeed being serious on the baroque and classical. You don't want to know the times I find myself humming a bar or two of Johann Sebastian. Cue 'Under Milk Wood' quotes, please, Anna MR.

nmj said...

Anna, we can't go that low as Kanikoski has arrived and, even though we haven't met, I feel he is a sophisticated gentleman. Good evening, Kanikoski - has PE been chatting with you elsewhere? I am confused (just for a change).

And where the hell is Pony? He is probably off researching Finnish Royalty so he can show off with facts, you know what he is like.

Anna MR said...

"'s organ organ all night long with him. I am a martyr to music! (Do use your hammiest Welsh accents, os gwelwch yn dda)

(Kani - always willing to oblige, sir, whenit comes to organ quotes. You are brave to venture down to the underworld, my friend.)

?! Sophisticated gentleman ?!

*dies laughing*

(Sorry Kani, thought I'd keep up your rep & street cred here, ok?)

Anna MR said...

Nmj, I have only been online half an hour, but haven't seen The Hooved One yet. I have a sneaky suspicion The Horse of Clonakilty is working on writing a post of his own. Why else the new photo?

Poni, I am keeping my beady eye on you.

Kanikoski said...

Why thank you, nmj. Though a gentleman should always know how to get properly low when the occasion calls for it.

Incidentally, I was replying to the other good gentleman's nod of agreement in comment #67779a, just one or two floors up from the current basement level.

Anna MR, thank you! Entrance timed perfectly, as usual.

Anna MR said...

We strive to please, Kani, we strive to please.

Speaking of entrances, timing, and all that. Did you hear what The Scary Irish One (not you Poni, you are a FinnScot) reckoned after our Sunday's stumble-through? I have just told Mr Moon a few posts up, but it bears repeating:

"Well, at least we won't peak early."

How, do you think, should I interpret that?

nmj said...

anna, you are at 101 comments, i am afraid of certain numbers, they bring bad luck, i can't come back here, we have to move house to chat.

kanikoski, are you not sophisticated, are you a torag?

Anna MR said...

Nmj, it's alright pet, we're up to 103 now. You can come out from behind the sofa. The monster's gone.

happy happy horse said...

More sensation than I can properly bear....

Kanikoski, hello hello hello and HELLO. How utterly magic to find you here - very kind regards in your direction, Mr K.

I sort of thought you were being serious, because I remember having seen the list of your musical tastes on your profile page a wee while back.

The Fauré Requiem particularly caught my eye, incidentally, because the Pie Jesu from that particular requiem is quite possibly one of my favourite songs ever - I used to sing it with a kind of wounded gusto before my voice broke. Nice mental image for you, I'm sure.

So yes, I was prepared to believe that your appreciation of these things was earnest - but I needed to hedge my bets. Honestly though, the sentence of yours that mentions the "climactic cadences in the best of baroque and classical church music" suggests to me that we would be well advised to hook up together, Mr Kanikoski, Sir. You sound like my kind of person and I'm delighted to see you again.

Oh - and I'm sorry for welcoming you to my own blog and saying what a friendly guy I was and then promptly shutting the door on you - and everyone. I hope this will not deter you from visiting in the future. You will certainly be most welcome.

Anna MR - beautiful to see you (and you, lusty NMJ). I'm buggering off for a wee minute but I'll try to get back later, okay? The potential this music - my music, Mr K's music - holds in heightening sexual enjoyment is beyond imagining. That is my fervent belief and I happen to know it is true.

So there. x

Kanikoski said...

Anna MR, given the context of this post, "won't peak early" must be taken as a compliment, no?

nmj, I have many postures, high and low, but always negotiable. Does that make me aristocracy?

Sir PE, good to meet you again. I was polishing my best Bulgarian for you as the door swung shut on your blog. But it can wait. It needs a lot of elbow grease.

Anna MR said...

Ah, here you are, Happy Horse. And buggering straight off again?

Disgraceful, as you yourself would be the first to say, if it was someone else.

The Periodic Englishman said...

Fair point, yes. Are you going to be up late tonight, Finand? I'll be back as soon as possible - hopefully catch you later.

Anna MR said...

Ah, late my time is barely evening your time, Corkish Stallion. But I'll be here for a while yet. Would be nice to catch a glimpse of you mane as you gallop by.

Anna MR said...

Kani - have you done your taggy post? I'd better nip out to have a look.

NMJ - have you died or something, girl, or were you serious about changing house?!

nmj said...

110 fucking comments, that is alarming, it is too much - we MUST relocate, i cannot breathe, maybe to kanikoski's - there is more room there?

i think pony boy is going to be ingratiating hinself with kanikoski for next few hours, so i am taking a back seat, all this talk of requiems, i know nothing, i like a nice violin concerto, but that's it.

you boys can educate me, if you wish.

Anna MR said...

I quite like the underground life myself, but let's see if Kani invites us. I have just been there, he is blogging about bestial cunnialingus - I kid you not.

Anna MR said...

It is or course spelled cunnilingus. Get your facts straight, girl.

nmj said...

Yes, I see what you mean, I can't cope. I'm having some peppermint tea.

Anna MR said...

Peppermint tea in the face of bestial cunnilingus. Hate to think the hits we'll get from this one.

Kanikoski said...

Sure, pop on over any time. If I'm not there, you can sit on the sofa and chat. I have some rooibos tea, too, if you get tired of peppermint.

Reading the Signs said...

oh come on folks - 116 comments! Someone do an innocent lurker a favour and, sort of, give me a resume? Thanks in anticipation,

The Periodic Englishman said...

Yay. Reading The Signs, hello. I think it should be Anna who delivers the resume - poor, poor, her - but I just wanted to say how happy I am to see you here in the meantime.

I think you'll probably find that we have marginally veered off-topic. I am hopeful that your arrival will force beautiful Anna MR to get a grip and sort things out round here.

Kanikoski - hello again. Do please bring Bulgarian with you next time, yes. I would love that. Planning on heading to yours shortly, however, to see what kind of a zoo you are keeping these days.

NMJ - freak.

Anna MR - ditto.


Anna MR said...

Dear lovely Ms Signs, I am sorely sorry that you have found my house in this state of disarray. It is not my fault, it is these two completely deranged lunatics who have invaded it and want to talk about things such as David Tennent's penis and the Eurovision song contest. I mean really, what have either thing ever had to do with orgasms, I ask you? But being the nicely-brought up person that I am, I cannot behave rudely towards them, I have to allow them a safe haven to blab their lunacy. You will note it is indeed me who has made all the efforts to keep the conversation to the stated topic of orgasms - a fine topic, I am sure you'll be the first to agree, Ms Signs - but they'll only say yeah right and then bang on about all sorts.

But if a resume is required, a resume it must be. Herewith:

Orgasms come in male and female forms, in approximately as many versions and variations as there are people experiencing them. They are generally regarded as being a nice experience. Some people like to enhance the experience with stimulating mental imagery, others with quote climactic cadences in the best of baroque and classical church music unquote. The debate of whether the lack of a mental stimulation experience makes experiencing an orgasm impossible is, at the time of writing, still ongoing. The term quote rubbing and rummaging unquote has been coined and brought forward to the public domain by the undersigned, to describe a non-pleasurable sexual encounter with a pronounced lack of mental stimulation. The question of whether quote rub & rummage unquote orgasms are possible or impossible remains, at the time of writing, unresolved.

The rest is total bollocks, Ms Signs.


Mr Periodic, you Rampant Stallion, I have a particular and pronounced fondness for your new blog photo. Please don't be cross I slagged you off to Ms Signs (this goes for you too NMJ my love), I think she is a real intellectual and I don't want her to find out so early on in our acquaintance that I am quite ga-ga. She might piss off, and that'd be a shame.

Reading the Signs said...

This is wonderful, ms mr, I now feel fully cognisant of all the particulars pertaining to the discussion in question. "Climactic cadences" is good, yes, and let me tell you that I have no intention of pissing off on account of anyone being a bit ga-ga. I am, as you say, a real intellectual, and we appreciate all sorts. They all, even rampant stallions, (well particularly those if one's to call a spade a spade, which I like to do ms mr) have their place in the grand scheme of things.

Anna MR said...

Madame Signs, I am much obliged. Please receive my most sincere and heartfelt expressions of gratitude for gracing these premises with your intellectual presence (place needs it, no). I am also simultaneously amused and bemused by your coining a new "nick-name" for myself - I mean, naturally, "ms mr" - this is entertaining but could potentially put my identity under some untoward scrutiny here and there.

I remain, as always,
yours most faithfully

The Ice Maiden (bloody hell)

lerppu the wonder horse said...

Okay, I don't think that I've ever seen you be so creepily polite to anyone, Anna MR. I quite like it, though, makes you seem almost sane.

Listen up, Scandanavia, I've been looking again at the quote you used in this post - the Eva Kilpi one - and am going to try to return to being serious for a moment. I bitterly resent this, so I'll need to be quick. Here's the quote you used:

In the orgasm, eternity ceases to matter for a moment, and the person is momentarily freed from the certain knowledge of their own mortality....

Obviously, I have disgraced myself a bit by having the arrogance of a total pig in changing poor Eva's words, but I'm a bit like that - and the h/she thing is an utter wank on the eye.

But anyway (and hello intellectual RTS - I'm clever as fuck, too, by the way, I just hide it beneath horse talk and, well, stupidity) I've been thinking a about this and I'm not sure that I agree with it, really.

Why, for example, would anyone try to escape the knowledge of their mortality? Better, surely, to meet this fact head on - otherwise you run the very real risk of becoming religious, and I have never been convinced that this is an entirely good thing.

Certainly, if you are looking for added pain in the moment of orgasm, it seems likely that to know you are without hope, that this is as far as you can go, as high as you'll ever reach - these things, Icy, would surely be more hurtful than the prospect of bliss?

For a "happy" orgasm then, sure, this feeling is the best. A liberation from woe and the merciless pain of life as physicality and hope blend together for some achingly fleeting moments of rapture.

For a "sad" orgasm - please forgive the terrible baseness of my language, I hope you know what I'm trying to say - then it is the very hopelessness itself that gives the thing it's terrible edge.

Here I am, reduced to submitting to my darkest, most selfish needs. Pathetically dirty in my lust for carnal obliteration, deeply and woundingly enmeshed in agony with someone who'll soon also die. Every drop of their sweat tastes like life itself, every hopeless lunge a step closer to death, as the clock ticks on and further reduces the chance for escape.

That sort of thing. You sort of need to know your going to pop your clogs in order for sex to be appropriately desperate. You know?

Please don't make the mistake of thinking that I'm saying this is how it has to be or that I somehow think I'm right. I am only venturing this here, as an idea, because you have made it feel safe to do so. I am as lost as anyone else. And I still adore the agonised search for a glimpse of those higher ideals. If that turns out to be God - sweet. But I somehow doubt this.

Also, I'm actually pretty rubbish in bed - cricket or no cricket. Luckily I've never really found that a bed is strictly necessary, however, when the darkness comes calling.

Just saying.

Signs - are you SURE you want to be here? Reputations are lost in a trice on these most deliciously disgraceful pages. I lost mine ages ago. Nightmare.

Anyway, hot stallion loving in the direction of all those who are partial and willing. And able.

Boasting Poni, he really is poor in bed - but shhh.


The Periodic Englishman said...

Kanikoski - hei. For some bugger of a reason I was unable to post a comment on your blog yesterday. Check your stats if you have them, I was the guy from Ireland loitering with intent for a while. I just couldn't open up the comments sections for some reason. Will try again later (most endearing and excellent bloggy home you have, incidentally - I knew this already, in fact) and trust you are having a fine day today, Mr Music Man.

Anna MR - back later. This is meant to be the last day of sunshine here in Ireland. Ever. I'm off out to enjoy it for a while.


Reading the Signs said...

ms mr (have no fear, it is a perfectly proper form of address) - I think we understand each other and as to Mr. Englishman, he-who-speaks-with-a-thousand-names said about being creepily polite - we will pay it no heed. We are clearly both Women of the World.

But let's talk about sex and death, which is where this all seems to be going. Actually, let's not, because the thread has got so long I have to keep scrolling down to refer to what has already been said, and most eloquently. I do remember the moment at which this "end of the road" awareness was first given to me - and it was an initiation into something; perhaps the knowledge that we carry within us the wish for death, or for eternal life, I can't decide which, and of course that each of us is ultimately alone.

Right. I've been staring into space for ages allowing my mind to wander. Out into the sunshine for me too, I think.

Anna MR said...

Ms Signs. I need to quote you back to yourself straightaway - "the knowledge that we carry within us the wish for death, or for eternal life... and of course that each of us is ultimately alone" - yes.

(See, this is what happens to me. I meet real intellectuals and all I can say is yes. No wonder I land up hanging out with dorks) (sorry Kanikoski)

I was going to reply to The Englishman of a Thousand Names about the awareness of mortality thing, and then you said what you said. I shall have to rearrange my thoughts. Damn. It's difficult enough to have them, let alone - but never mind.

Right. I think why I like the quote

(and Englishman, I am outraged, outraged I tell you that you have the audacity to improve upon my translation, why do you have to be so bloody brilliant in everything, and a cunning linguist, too - but you do actually change the content a bit too much for my liking, although your form is considerably smoother than mine, I concur)

why I like the quote is because of my personal interpretation of it - we all read things from our own standpoints, and this is what it suggests to me: Life is a continuous, painful awareness of myself, my ultimately alone self, Ms Signs, of which (self or awareness) I can never, ever rid myself of. It is an eternity having to be me, having to be aware of being me, having to be aware of having to be me. I have no religious faith and therefore have no other eternity awaiting me. There is no respite, no redemption, because the only redeemer is also the ultimate destroyer. (I don't know how I feel about the death wish. We shall have to return to that, Ms Signs (and Englishman, and nmj, and Kani), there isn't space for everything here, I agree.) Existence is self-awareness is agony, but its opposite (on thought-level) is agony, too. This life, these feelings, this pain, this joy, this love - what does it all add up to? In a cold twinkling, it is gone, and it matters nothing.

However. Amazingly, just sometimes, for fleetingly short yet aeon-long moments, I, even I can be freed from being aware of being me. My means of achieving this loss-of-self-bliss are various, and, admittedly, as a list, rather funny:
Orgasm (let's put it first, since it is the topic of the post somewhere half a mile above this comment).
Sex, sometimes (proper, not rub&rummage), more generally.
Giving birth.
Flow state during theatre performance.
Art - for me, some theatre will do it, and music, very occasionally visual art too, whereas literature, my big love, doesn't really.
Dancing, sometimes.

So it is, Mr He-Who-Is-Called-Many-Things, I don't really mean achieving happiness or not facing one's mortality head-on (oh, there's an unfortunate pun coming up, but I am beating it back with a big stick) with my interpretation of Eeva's quote. This is partly to do with the slight change of angle you gave it in your translation: ikuisuus does translate as eternity, NOT as mortality. I mean a flash of timeless bliss - or agony, yes - where for a moment, I exist without awareness, without intellectualisation, bodily, emotionally, and then, bang, back to reality.

There is VERY much to be said of this topic. But maybe this will do for one comment's worth. I am aware of the awkwardness of having to scroll up and down, but simultaneously, I think the remoteness of the location gives it a certain feeling of "it's safe to speak here" - only complete oddballs and cretins (sorry to put it bluntly to you, dear Reader) would scroll all the way down here to find out what we really think.

Look forward to hearing from you, esteemed friends. I must go and experience momentary loss of self via mutating into mad Solange. Will be back in ca. 4 hours.

You people, incidentally, are amazing.


Reading the Signs said...

To begin at the end, ms mr (or have we had sufficient exchange for me to call you anna?) – you think it is “safe to speak here”? Ho ho, believe me, the whole world and his wife and mistress are looking in here, and not only the oddballs and cretins – a post that says it’s about orgasms and then all these comments! You think they are going to miss the party? There are so many lurkers in the shadows I can almost feel them breathing down my neck. And why? Because everyone is drawn to this, because everyone wants heaven on earth, a reconnection to the divine from which we all come – it could be argued. No, well it couldn’t be argued but it’s a notion I favour because, I suppose, I’m a believer. God and the angels are looking in down here as well, ms mr, if you don’t believe it just imagine it and that’s almost as good. Now I’m going to sound like a born-again, you know, whatever, and you’ll think I’m one of the cretins and oddballs. Let’s say I’m just a believer in us being spirit as well as everything else. I don’t know where I’m going with this other than to say that orgasm is manifestation of something other than just physical or even emotional connection, not necessarily holy either, but it may be. This may be why I’ve never been drawn to the idea of bringing hardware into the situation. Sex toys, I mean. Something so crude, I mean literally, a foreign body, combined with something so closely touching to the invisible, essential body of us. But some of my best friends, as they say, like that sort of thing and are brought as close to the “little death” as they would wish to go. If it serves not spirit it serves not me, is what I always say, as I pass out on the bar room floor after the tenth whisky chaser. What do you always say?

Thinking about the business of being freed from self-awareness – what is so difficult about M.E. (would you agree nmj?) is that one is always so connected to the body, not allowed to forget it for a moment. It’s why I’m so glad of the occasional break courtesy of a drug like co-proxamol so I can get out of myself for a couple of hours. Yes, intense creative activity is a kind of freedom, a kind of bliss. And to be another character, on stage, yes. Isn’t that why actors love the profession so? I hope you enjoyed your performance. Your English, btw, is wonderful – why? You express yourself better than we do. Even us intellectuals, I mean.

Mr. Englishman – healing vibrations coming at you over the ether. I believe it, so you don’t have to! May you be up and at it again (life, I mean) soon, and with gusto. Meanwhile, keep being the eloquent horseman that you are.

The Periodic Englishman said...

RTS - thanks. I was actually just in the middle of writing a response, anything really, to Anna Mr's most beautiful answer. I don't like to see such a thing going unacknowledged by others and left hanging there. It blew me away, really.

So I'm very pleased to see you respond to her in such a magical way yourself. Your answer has just arrived as I struggle to think of what to say to her.

As I'm with you just now, though, you should know that your line about how we "carry within us the wish for death, or for eternal life" has a particularly potent effect on me. My wish is for death, it seems, although I really don't want to die. I'm not sure why I crave it so much at times, but I do, and it is horrible. V. good for deviant sex, though.

Can't say I've ever really seen the appeal of sex toys, no. With you on that one, Ms Sensuality.

Anna MR - I'll hopefully get back to you later. I think you'll find that you are utterly amazing yourself. x

Kind regards, and in my own name,


(Almost proud to acknowledge being totally fucked up. No, really)

Anna MR said...

Oh brilliant, you are both here. And you have both said such things that have a million things I need to say something to. Oh, man. It is frustratingly stimulating to be talking to you.

I shall answer some trivial things (well, you know, as compared to life and death and so on) and send it out so as you know I am here now too.

Ms Signs, you are most welcome to call me anna. I, however, will have to keep calling you Ms Signs for a while, not for any overly-developed sense of formality, but because I can't very well start calling you Reading, can I? So until I can think of a suitable name I call you, I hope you don't mind me sounding formal. I assure you, it is appearance only. I feel like I've known you for years and fallen off plenty of barstools after heavy sessions. I usually say, oh fuck, I fell, incidentally, since you asked.

I wasn't performing, not yet. Rehearsal. I was so stimulated by our exchange that I went in tremendously focused and scared myself witless most pleasurably. I really did - momentary loss of self was quite close, although it wasn't a performance. We open in something horrible like three or four weeks, I don't frankly want to look that way right now. I still have some lines that won't come if the emotion's there. argh

Jamie Inyourownname - I feel myself slipping out of the mere short light reply to let you people know I am here, and slightly towards something else, but I'm sure you can find my lighter stuff elsewhere if you feel disappointed. Ms Signs' "the wish for death, or for eternal life... and ...that each of us is ultimately alone" blew my mind (thank you Ms S) too. I do not dispute the existence of a death wish in individuals - I hope I didn't come across like that. No. I meant the Freudian dogma, and my being unsure about it means largely that my thoughts about it are unsorted, unsifted, uncrystallised if you like. My gut instinct reply would be that I personally and, quite possibly, people more generally, carry the wish BOTH for death and eternal life. Maybe it is the same wish in some way. Possibly most personally home-hitting was the aloneness, though. I don't know for sure, but it may be I care (marginally) less about eternal life-death than about us never really connecting before one or the other (of the previous) is achieved.

Ok, my "quick reply" has taken forty minutes to concoct, and you have probably - for good reason - both given up on me. Apologies. My mental faculties are running slower than before the rehearsal. Am here for more for a while, though. Hope to continue this soon. You are wonderfuls.


The Periodic Englishman said...

God. I'm still trying to concoct an answer to your first thing, Anna. And now you have appeared with yet more. I am flailing and failing like a total loser here. Definitely haven't given up on you, though. No such luck, Ice Maiden.

Back soon or tomorrow. x

(how much longer are you staying up?)

Anna MR said...

An hour or two, Man With Many Names. Fear for my internet connection, though, it has horrible tendencies to crap out about this time of the night. So if I suddenly shut up, it'll mean I am sitting here in my igloo swearing a lot at the circumstances.

You never flail and fail, you silly man.

nmj said...

Thinking about the business of being freed from self-awareness – what is so difficult about M.E. (would you agree nmj?) is that one is always so connected to the body, not allowed to forget it for a moment.

True, Signs, but I would say sex (though exhausting)is the one time you can be free, it can be quite wonderfully freeing, but if a sex toy came my way I would run away. I am sorry not to join in more fully but I can only absorb so much after spending an hour wiring a fucking plug (don't ask).

Anna MR said...

Hei beloved nmj, I am glad you decided to return to the underworld after all.

This body thing - obviously, as I don't have ME I cannot claim to know what it's like, but I can see that the body can be where we are both imprisoned and freed, a place of safety and of - slavery.

(the first word that came to me was "bondage" but given the context I thought it was possibly just too fnarr fnarr-inducing, when I mean it in all sincerity, with no fucking pun intended, ok all? If I want to talk about kinky, I think you'll believe me when I say I'll say so straight up)

Sorry about that interlude there, and of your plug nmj. x

Anna MR said...

PS Should anyone feel I was being cranky in the above, I wasn't. Just blunt and swear a lot, you know. Classy me.

gobsmacked horse said...

Hei Helsinki - no worries. Your blog, isn't it? Anyway, I've got to sprint, but I really just wanted to say hello and let you know how much I like it here. Back (whenever the hell) with some form of response to your latest, beautiful, stuff. RTS is good, isn't she?

Regards from Ireland...

(hello NMJ - what's up? tell us about the plug, sweety, you're amongst friends)

Anna MR said...

Hei Gobsy, it is my blog yes but I could exercise a bit of manners, regardless, no? You'll be happy to know I have donned my dunce cap, and it is teetering precariously on my nutty noodle as I am typing this.

V. glad to know you like it here though. And yes, Ms RiTSy is spectacular (just trying things out, Ms Signs, hello).

Looking forward to your further contributions to this ongoing thread, at your leisure. Incidentally, as the issue of scrolling annoyance has been raised by both the fair ladies, Ms's RTS and NMJ - does the scrolling bother you? I still believe in the (perceived) sense of a safe haven that being so far below the ground gives.

Reading the Signs said...

I like RiTSy! It's stylish, and zappy and has a kind of 1920s flapper chic to it. I have come back from poetry cafe completely exhausted, yet felt compelled to burrow down into the bowels - no - the depths of the earth to find this thread again, and your engaging exchanges. nmj, when I said that thing about M.E. and the body I wasn't at that particular point thinking about s-e-x, 'twas a general thought about the condition. Agree with what you said, yes. There's something in what we have to do, I think, to hang on to what's essential in us (with chronic illness, I mean), that carries, potentially, its own kind of erotic charge. In that we connect to deep self - touch base. Why do I keep saying we?
No, too tired now. Underground is ok, Anna. Earthy.
Mad Horseman, I have been spotting you round and about, don't think I haven't. So watch it.

Anna MR said...

Right then - we may go with RiTSy for now, but I do have an inherent dislike of this new-fangled kiddywinks-of-today thing of writing things with lower and upper cases mishmashed. So if you find yourself turning into Ritsy at some point, or Rits, or even Ritz - let me know if you can't live with it.

Regarding chronic illness and sexuality/erotic charge (and, to some extent, apropos 1920s flapper chic) - and do let me know (but nicely, please, I am somehow feeling very delicate today, not to say fragile) when I get wanky here, I am speaking out of my depth and on hearsay and second-hand knowledge - but I am sure it has been suggested somewhere that consumption often made sufferers erotically very highly charged...?

Words are not my friends today, somehow, for some reason. So I'll keep this short now. V. nice to see you this evening/early am, though, Ms Ritskins.

The Periodic Englishman said...

Evening Finland - are you okay? I hope this delicate feeling you mentioned to Ms Signs isn't causing you too much bother.

The long thread thing: it doesn't even bother me slightly and I'm quite surprised when I see people mention it, truth be told. I blame NMJ (I don't dare blame RTS for anything, yet - but I'm working on it. Hello to you too, Signs).

It's just the M.E. crowd acting stroppy, I imagine. They're a rough bunch, Anna, and NMJ and Ms Sensuality are amongst the worst of their number. They meet secretly and discuss things. So just don't come crying to me when it all turns nasty, that's what I'm saying to you, k?

But no, I really don't see why it would present even the tiniest of problems. I see people mention it a lot, actually, on various blogs. I'm easy.

I think it was impressive of RTS to take the time to read through it, certainly, and I can imagine that it would be a bit much for a newcomer to contemplate doing, especially if they were, well, dumb or something. So my own view would be that the longer the thread, the less likely you are to be bothered by the mouth-breathers.

But I don't really care about all that right now - what I want to know is whether you're okay or not. You seem low, Ice Maiden, and this will never do.

Warmth and affection all the way from here...

Anna MR said...

Oh, Mr Englishman of Irish Horse Grounds. Sometimes a caring word can reduce one into a sobbing mess. So careful how you go, ok?

But thank you for asking. Nothing major, just - just not particularly strong or happy this evening/morning. And it is most annoying words are not doing my bidding at all, no matter where I turn. I am paying for the stimulated high I experienced yesterday, possibly?

nmj said...

Anna, honey, how are you today, you don't have to answer, but I have to ask. Horseman, I love the idea of a rowdy ME crowd, Signs would be the ringleader, she is just so wise. Ach, but pony boy, dry your horsey eyes: I do enjoy the safe haven of this thread, believe me, safety is big on my agenda, always, I just get so annoyed when I have scrolled down & it leaps back up to zombiepumpkin, that is all, but I will contain my rage, it's well worth the scrolling to be in such fine company. I do get annoyed when I see long threads on other blogs, where I don't know anyone, it always seems a bit wanky (ha,I used the word I can't use!) all the in-jokes, & perhaps people coming here think the same about us. Human nature. Is there a limit on how many comments a post can have? Does Blogger put a flag up & say, Basta, Enough!

The plug, boring, sparkly pony, to do with a cable reel that I was a week ago lowering out of the window in order to cut a tiny patch of grass that was planted late last autumn & had never been cut, the superduper lite hover mower i love it, but it is a shenanigans to plug it in when you are on the first floor. Anyway, cable reel fell from my clumsy hands from a great height & locked & jammed so the cable was useless, would not unwind, my friend tried to fix it the other night by taking the plug (a bulky safety plug) off so he could unroll bastard cable & oh this is too boring, anyway, bla bla bla, it took a fucking hour to fix the plug. It was cumbersome. And I was doing my usual thing of asking someone for help then not trusting that they would do the job properly. But I did remember from physics that that wee bit of plastic you screw over the cable at the mouth of the plug is called a 'cord grip'.

Anna MR said...

NMJ, petkins, I am feeling better today. Sleep is a wonderful thing...I am glad you are here despite the depth and distance. I could, I suppose, bin zombiepumpkin - it is within my power - but somehow that would feel a little wanky. I am with The Man of Many Names regarding a long thread plucking out the mouth-breathers (thank you Poni J, brilliant term) and if people think we are wanky, well be my guest(s). Of course, should they wish to start breathing through the orifices higher forms of intelligence use and stop lurking, they can do so when they feel like it.

I have work to do...but I'll be around. Hugs all round. Feeling all high again. Well, at least not as down. X

nmj said...

Glad you doin better, Anna MR, and can I just say I wasn't calling Pony Boy boring in my last comment, I meant the plug story was boring, but since I clearly can't write a normal sentence anymore - my comments are littered with mistakes & non-sequiturs - it looks like I was accusing our darling pony of dullness - as if!

Reading the Signs said...

What it takes to get 142 metres below the surface of the earth, blimey I'm digging with my bare hands. Hi all! Well we seem to have gone way off topic now, and that's ok by me. Picturing a few disappointed lurkers, though. I've been with Sappho all day - no, don't ask, I'm knackered.

"To what shall I compare you, dear bridegroom?
I shall compare you to a slender sapling."

What a lady. And 97% of her work all gone.

Soon, anna mr, I will appear on the surface of your blog. You will know me by my purple trousers.

Regards to all,
Signs or RTS (the other's a bit ditsy).

insecure man-horse said...

Are you sure, NMJ? Because I was really hurt by that. I kind of had to go on a gallopingly steedtastic Poni-spree to try to recover and make myself feel good and proud again. Luckily, it worked.

Wait there a minute, pretty filly, I need to talk to Anna - back in a mo.

Anna MR - I'm happy to see that you're feeling a wee bit better today. You seem far more full of zing, which is lovely to see. It's a bit annoying, isn't it, when a high is followed by such a low? It is ever thus, unfortunately, otherwise we would all be permanently high - and that would just start to get irritating for everybody. It's true. Lows are a necessary evil that help to make the highs feel so highly high and hi-de-hi. Or something. Anyway, it's very pleasing to see you return to a happier place.

Listen, Helsinki, sorry about the translation thing - you're absolutely right that my effort changes the meaning too much. Plus, it was a disgracefully arrogant thing to attempt (this won't stop me in the future, I'm afraid to say) considering I have only been interested in Finnish for a few short weeks. Still, it was a mighty fine translation effort if I say so myself - and I do say just that. Sorted.

I loved the answer you gave to Ms Signs on nearly every level. I'm still here, still going through it, but I thought I just better get the apologies out of the way first. Nobody likes to see a filthily attractive and thrusty Poni genius pass through life without even a shred of modesty. I'll be back to you later - try not to get too aroused by this prospect.

NMJ - don't listen to any of that. I remain unrepentantly hot and demonic. Hop on.

Glad you liked the idea of a rowdy M.E crowd, by the way. It kind of made me laugh, I have to admit. And I can see what you mean about the slightly irritating aspects of long threads, fair point.

I'm in a bit of a bind here with the M.E sex thing, because whilst I am interested in the subject and do wonder how the illness affects various people, I can't offer any personal comments because it would seem improper (towards C) to do so. Don't let any silence on my part make you feel I'm not interested, please. You too, Ms Signs.

I see what you mean about the plug story. Maybe just keep that sort of stuff to yourself next time, hmm? This is a serious discussion, young NMJ, and we've no time for such grim diversions.

See you soon, rubbishly absent lover. x

Ice Maiden - remember to take things easy, most recklessly gorgeous Finn, and I'll see you soon. x

(I am such a slut)

Anna MR said...

RiTSy Signs, Slutty Horse, you are both here, what a surprise. And just at the very moment I had decided it was call-it-a-day time with the boring stuff I had been doing, and popped over to Ritskins' to see what the devil she was up to (yes, I am there on your stats as we speak, go check.)

Sluthorse, I am forgiving you your translational transgressions - what wouldn't I forgive you - you know this and abuse it, I know, but I am such a weakling when it comes to strong horses. You may note I have added an improved (with your kind interference) version of the long-since-forgotten quote in the original post, somewhere in the distant heights at ground level.

Right. That's the bollocks over and done with.

Anybody want to talk sex orgasms and existential experience? Or possibly Sappho?

(Incidentally, Horsey-Ho, thank you for the well-wishing. Appreciated.)

nmj said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
nmj said...

Removed by the author becasue blogger saw fit to publish it while I was still previewing it. With regards to M.E & sex, it's like any physical activity, you can't sustain it without being completely done in, but the beauty is you can lie down when you're doing it! (I touch on this in my book.) I would imagine for those severely affected it is maybe a different ball game (excuse that quite terrible pun.) And of course there are times you feel too ill. I have never felt myself disavantaged in the bedroom, I can truly say. So you have no fears, Slutpony, when we finally wed. Signs, have you been taking drugs, dearest, you sound quite flighty tonight?

Reading the Signs said...

funny you should ask, nmj, because I have just now taken some drugs, muscles being in a truly shocking state and me in that kind of light-headed flight-before-the-fall kind of state I'm sure you can recognise. Calming things down before night can mean better quality sleep. But what were we talking about? Oh yes, the cool and rowdy gang of M.E. ladettes. Yes, like it.
ms amr, I will of course go directly and check my stats to see that you have really been there. But feel free to grace my blog with your words, do not be shy. Lord knows it would appreciate a bit of classy input from a fellow artypants intellectual and, if you needed an additional draw, you would be in fine company with friend nmj and the wild, poetical horseman who makes his presence felt in mysterious ways.

Anna MR said...

A wild, poetic horseman? Well I never. I'll need to nip in and have a look at that soon.

Pony said...

No, don't do that. Please. Oh God.

Hei, Helsinki - has everyone buggered off? It's been awfully quiet for a few days (oh, I spy on everything, don't worry about that). Are you feeling tired of it now? Needing to look at something different for a while maybe?




Anna MR said...


The Ice Maiden has hidden talents - she flies.

Hello, good evening, Pony. Allow me to scratch you wherever ponies like scratching best. I am never bored of this topic, but don't wish to be talking to myself either.

Let's rephrase that: don't wish to be seen to be talking to myself. For some reason, particularly about orgasms. I have some secret inhibitions about that.


Anna MR said...

Actually, I take it all back. I don't mind sitting here on my own talking orgasms.

What's been bothering my mind (not continuously, not overwhelmingly, come on - I am a saddo, but not THAT saddo) was something The Horse Person said about seventeen comments up or whatever, about being "poor in bed". Now I am aware of the fact he was probably just turning a funny phrase rather than talking down his sexual performance on public domain - but I want hereby to register (on public domain) my personal dislike of the phrases "good in bed", "bad in bed".

Sex is not a competitive sport. It is not even a performative art. In my view.

Sex with the same person can be amazing when the feeling is right and a load of old r & r (use my dictionary, not the conventional rest & relaxation, rock & roll one) if/when it isn't. Another point for my mental stimulation argument, I think.

Harlem horse trotter said...

What on earth makes you think you are sitting here on your own, Anna MR? I'm still loitering with indecisive intent.

I do like your style, though. You can just blether away about whatever you like in your own space and feel happy in the knowledge that it doesn't matter at all what other people might think - just as long as you're not being mean about folk, of course. (esp. me)

I tend to agree with what you've just said, incidentally, but was really only dropping by to say hello and to remind you that I've gone nowhere. Story of my life, really.

I think that those phrases (good in bed/bad in bed) however unsatisfactory, serve as a useful shorthand to describe how a sexual encounter has been for someone.

They are self-referential, really, because if you say so-and-so was good/bad in bed, what is meant, surely, is "I enjoyed myself/I didn't enjoy myself". Crudely put, I know. Sorry about that.

It seems reasonable enough to me to turn these descriptions on oneself, also. It's just that not many people seem prepared to admit that they've totally screwed up during sex. Men, especially, seem to find this notion unbearable - for whatever strange reason.

But you're still right about the good/bad in bed thing. Or, more accurately, good/bad at sex. This is not really definable, maybe. Sexual interests vary, desires don't match, people are always looking for something different. And so if two people leave an encounter feeling disappointed or unfulfilled because they hoped for something else, I'm not really sure it's fair to blame just one side of this unhappy equation.

Hmm. I'm not so sure that I've managed to make the point I was trying to make - but you allow your guests to fumble in the dark until they hit their stride, don't you? So I may just try again later.

But yes, sex is not a competitive sport. Or, at least, it shouldn't be. And if we must have sporting analogies thrown into the equation (and we must, Finland, we must) then it seems reasonable enough to view sex as a team game as opposed to a direct conflict between two opponents (although that can be good, too, if the mood is right). So it is to be hoped that, as team mates, those joined in sexual congress work together harmoniously to achieve the best possible results for the side - preferably whilst playing in a higher division.

Okay, I'm going to need to try that again later. But still.

I saw the new translation added to the post, btw. And v. nice it is, too.

Hey Ice Maiden - that answer you gave to RTS about, oh, fifteen or so years ago - yes.

I can't think of anything else to say to you - I really have tried - but I'm hopeful that "yes" will suffice. I hope it's not too inappropriate to say so, but it really just made me want to hug you for some reason. Remember though, I'm weird, so don't be congratulating yourself too much. Also remember, I'm a sensitive soul - so don't be grimacing and backing away too much, either.

Happy Mayday, Helsinki - you're never just talking into space, okay?


Anna MR said...

Hei Harlem, Helsinki thanks you for your interest on this topic. And also for your contributions, including this newly-added one. Thank you. It is ok for me to blether into space (at least here where I run the show) but it is sort of nicer if someone is on the same wavelength sometimes.

It is indeed perfectly alright to fumble about in the dark here (or anywhere where I govern) until you hit your stride or something that you can feel happy with. So keep fumbling, do. I look forward to fumbling with you - if you'll pardon me this innuendo-laden phrase - as I have found it highly stimulating for my thinking to have your company. These things, I think, are such that one's opinions and feelings on them can feel quite straightforward until it comes to verbalising them, when the thought becomes misty and extremely difficult to catch anymore. And for some reason, I want to catch those thoughts - I don't know whether it is necessary or even healthy or happiness-inducing, I just do.

You of course know how I can fold in the face of someone else's brilliantly put ideas/thoughts/feelings, down to the point of having nothing but yes to say. I am therefore moved, in a silly way, that you should think my fumblings were worthy of a yes of this sort. And as for the hug - I am not given to congratulating myself, so no fear there, am not going to get big-headed, and as for grimacing and backing away - you are of course my Favourite Weirdo, so no worries about that either. And I have this sneakiest of feelings some might classify me as a bit odd, too.

There is something about this competitive sport thing that I really dislike - I mean the whole attitude and thought process behind it, which the words betray. Why don't we/people say "I didn't enjoy myself" rather than "he/she was useless" ? It's no harder to say. I must conclude this shows the thinking behind the words, and I just don't like it. Free sex was supposed to free people to enjoying themselves rather than being governed from the outside by an out-of-date pattern of guilt-dirt obsessed (church-founded?) thinking. Instead, I think we have trivial sex and little in the way of deep experiences. It is a pity, I think.

Thank you again for your company, contributions, and kind greetings. Very much appreciated, Harlem Hot Horse. x

nmj said...

Might have known I'd find you two ragamuffins down here, still deep in talk. All I can say (tongue firmly in cheek of, course) is, Pony, I hope you're not bad in bed if we are getting married x

The Periodic Englishman said...

NMJ - you're BARRED.

Such a filthy mouth on you. I've never heard the likes.

Wait. I'm not sure I actually have the power to bar you from this space. Still - you're barred. (I think I may actually have banned you from here before - can't remember now exactly)

Where have you been, anyway? I'm just stuck in here with The Crazy Woman without any back-up or help. Pretty frightening stuff, really, when all's said and done.

Look, I'm expecting wonderful things of you in bed, NMJ, so do please make sure to get plenty of practice before the big night, k? (video footage of said practice would seem like an appropriately loving wedding gift) xx

Anna MR, Helsinki, Igloony, Snow Muncher, Ice Maiden of the Frozen Wastelands - hei.

Hmm. Trivial sex. Tricky one, that. I'm not sure that any sex, any coming together of two people can be described as trivial. Unsatisfactory? Definitely. But I like to think that there has to be some meaning to these encounters.

Plus, even though it is something I eventually grew utterly sick of when I was younger, I feel there is still a place for (seemingly) meaningless sex with people who mean nothing to you emotionally - this may even add to the appeal for loads of people, in fact. Even if only for the brief physical contact it allows, I think it is enough to lift it away from the charge of being trivial.

It probably sounds like I am disagreeing with you more than I actually am, and it may just be a question of semantics, really. Either way, I totally share your frustrations with these things - which is why I stopped doing it and would probably never bother with it again (even if I split from my girlfriend). It's just a nagging feeling that there has to be more to sex than that. And there is.

Good point on the other thing. Why don't people just say "I was disappointed" rather than "they were bad"? I wish I knew the answer to that. It seems like it is never enough to simply be unhappy with something - there needs to be someone to blame. And heaven forbid that this blame should ever be directed at oneself.

Back soon to check up on you, and to talk into your space, wonderful Anna MR of Snowland. xx

Anna MR said...

I have to concur, there is a semantics issue here, and you are correct (as bloody usual) - it is not a trivial thing, no matter how unsatisfactory or meaningless. I should have said trivialised. That's what I meant.

admiring horse said...

It is shocking how often I am right, Anna, and it certainly takes some getting used to.

Anyway, I thought I would stop by to see if you had been talking to yourself again - I worry, sometimes.

All quiet, though.........xx

The Wee Icicle said...

Funny, sir, you must be reading my mind - it was within the last 24 hours that I thought I really should go and talk to myself down here. Or to you. It would be a shame if this particular thread, of all threads, dried out - don't you think? And I do believe, out of the known universe, the task of keeping this thread alive and burning has been left to you and me.

I could do with a smidgeon of input, though - talking to myself does get a little fruitless and samey, sometimes. Stimulate me on this important issue, dear Horse.


Reading the Signs said...

Ouf! Have burrowed all the way down here to say that I will of course still be rabbitting on to kindred spirit members of the eldernits, I'm just (possibly) taking a bit of a breather from posting in the obvious place because - well, just boring reasons really, and perhaps I've taken a leaf out of TPE's book and fancy going underground for a bit. Also doing a bit of howling at the moon (damned inconvenient that it happens to be new right now - nothing to howl at) to psych myself up for a bit of real writing. Not that the blog isn't real, but sometimes my unconscious is fooled into believing I've been beavering away at my magnum opus after a mere blogpost.
Conversing with luminous kindred bonkeroonies is rather lovely, don't you think, princey? So - be seeing you rather soon, no doubt.

zdnhzero (not sure I like this one, but can't quite say why)

Anna MR said...

Hurrah and ho and ha and yay - when shall we three meet again - at the orgasm post, and in rain?

This is too good to be true, sweet fellow princey, too good altogether. I have alerted Prince/ss Time Lord and am very much looking forward to delving and burrowing deep into the murkiest depths of the human psyche (not to mention lunacy and folly) in the finest company imaginable for this said activity, a most pleasing of activities, if not the most pleasing doable whilst still clothed.

Ahem. You can sense my enthusiasm for this party, can't you, sweet Signs, (McTimePrincessLord? Wonderful. And Signs, to be totally freaky here, I have been meaning to come down here and start activites again, for a while. Like minds, dear heart, like minds.

zdnhzero - there is nothing untoward here, Signs, it's a sign. Zd is the last of the alphabet's letter, the end. Zero is the beginning of calculations, so we have the end meeting the beginning here. A good enough place for us loonybuckets to meet up and begin, wouldn't you say?

Happy as a Sandboy Princeling. More soon.

xxxx (two each, but don't get carried away now)

Reading the Signs said...

Have been over to Prince/ss Time Lord's; helloooo, I called, anyone hooooome? It was all dark and there was no-one about. That's funny, thinks I to myself, there ain't been no-one hereabouts recently but me. So Finland and Time Lord must have had intercourse (as in talking, don't be reading things what I never said) elsewhere. But where this might be is a mystery.

ooooo-eeeee-oooooo !

luminous ferret bonkeroony said...

Dearest Kindred Prince, sorry this reply is a mite late. Don't take this as a slight - it isn't. I am more than delighted you have had the fabulous idea of returning to this particular nook for conversations with us "luminous kindred bonkeroonies" - it is brilliant. I have alerted our most dashing and handsome personal TimeLord, and no doubt his non-appearance so far has only to do with some tardis action somewhere. Looking forward to you joining us too, Timely Hevonen, as soon as you can.

But what shall we open our discussions with? I have used, as my signature page, a song I find one of the finest in its genre, and funnily enough, one of the only ones I recognised from the list provided by my first visitor here. Just to set the mood - do not take the line in the lyrics suggesting "you" should "go" as a hint, quite the contrary, you (plural) shouldn't. It is just one of the finest, as I said, songs of a longing yearning, one I could listen, and, when the mood grabs me, have listened to over and over again.

I am very interested in this our shared need to be both public and private, as one is whilst blogging, and its little quirky branchings-out, such as this one we are setting out for here. I know from my stats nobody has been here for quite some time...I, for one, am not going to advertise the fact we are here - I am not opposing other visitors coming over and taking part, but am not expressly inviting anyone else.

My dears, the floor is yours. I look forward to hearing from you both. Anyone else, feel free to earn your status by being as mad and as luminous as my kindred weirdos.

Much love in your directions


Dr Horse, Time Lord said...

Hei and hi, Eldernits - what a soothing relief to return to the depths of the orgasmathon. Are you okay, Signs? Just having a break from your own blog ("resting"), nothing too drastic, I hope?

I noticed that you had (both) been round to my home - I was being inconveniently handsome elsewhere, sorry, and failed to greet you. I'll sort that out soon, of course, although I'm pretty much stuck with this distracting handsomeness, unfortunately.

God, I can't be doing with blogging right now (no, really). I have no idea, Anna, why it is that there is this weirdy need for the public yet private thing that sees us gathered here like a gang of misfit witches (so foul and fair a gathering I have not seen etc).

I tried to get to grips with this once with a fellow blogger, but remain none the wiser, really. I need the contact, certainly, and it remains something of a lifeline for me - but still. I cannot bear the thought of people looking at me or getting too close or, I don't know, just being there, really. (and then, of course, I love blogging and meeting bloggy people - so make of that what you will.)

I usually only ever wallow about in the murky depths of blogs these days (with an occasional dart into the glare of an "active" post), Signs, and I'll be interested to hear how you find the experience, certainly.

More interested still if you can point me in the direction of people who respond to comments on their older posts and don't simply seem obsessed with the here and now and the gathering of visitors and comments for the sake of it. I think I've maybe had enough of that now.

Oh dear. I sound like such a surly grump.

But hey, blog writing is "real" writing, Signs (as I think you in fact said - but I'm not going to let that stop me), it's just that it's out in space. There are no rules governing where excellent writing can or cannot appear - and if there are, then there certainly shouldn't be. Some of the best and most effortlessly engaging writing I have come across in the last half year or so has been found in bloggy land. You may find that you have, in fact, written your magnum opus when you look back on your bloggy a few years from now. Why not? It certainly lends itself to a collection........(just saying)

A few months ago I told another bloggy person about the two offers of work I had recently received as a direct result of my own (disgracefully underperforming) blog. Nothing spectacular, just the chance to write a few articles for print media magazines. Both approaches were made privately (quite right) and both parties seemed to take it for granted that my blog was simply a vehicle for other, "better" things.

No. And no, again. I'm perfectly happy to put anything on my blog (whenever I get round to it, of course) and see no reason whatsoever to find other outlets as preferable. I'm not saying that I haven't in the past, and I'm certainly not ruling it out in the future - I'm merely saying that I resented the fact that they took it for granted that I would see the chance to write for them (yes, paid - although risibly) as somehow preferable. That doesn't make sense to me.

Bloggies stand on their own and have equal validity. Yes, you can find an awful lot of shite out there, but then this is readily balanced by things like The Daily Mail. For example.

It was (immaturely) pleasing to tell them no thanks. But there you go. Oh, it also felt very nice to be noticed - a direct contradiction to some of the things I have only just recently said.

Is it any wonder my head is in a state? Sheesh.

Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is, let's talk about sex.

And incidentally, Anna of Nudity - fully-clothed sex is very doable and dangerously enjoyable, too. Nudity ultimately rules, I suppose, because it is beautiful and allows for greater warmth and intimacy as the bodies collide, BUT....the frantic disorder and grappletastic ripperoo of a clothed romp-fight is often a pretty damn fine substitute. (don't tell me that you know this already, because I think I might simply die of jealousy - just act all surprised, k?)

I can't even remember why I came out with that - I think you said something about enjoyable and doable activities whilst clothed? It is too far down the page for me to scroll to check (I'll never get back up here, surely) so you'll just have to allow me soom room for error.

(Which reminds me, for some reason, of something that Woody Allen, I think, once said:"Is sex dirty? Only if it's done right." Okay, it didn't really remind me of that quote, but I like it and wanted to get it in somewhere, sometime. Obliged.)

Now, I need to go and listen to this song you mention, Anna. Longing and yearning are far more interesting to me than sex, in any event.

Wait. I don't believe it. I think I have another Woody Allen quote (and I don't even really like him that much). Something along the lines may not be the answer, but as you look for the answer, it certainly raises some interesting questions along the way.

I am wrong in the head, because these two quotes were completely unprovoked and both faintly ge-smutted.

And I was only really popping in to say hello, I'm still here, and always very happy to spend time with both of you.

Next time, I'll be a little more sensible and serious. Okay, I'm going to go and listen to the song.......

Love to both and to anyone out there


Reading the Signs said...

Greetings to you, esteemed principalities of the nether regions. Lord, I was wondering what the topic of the day, or even of the season, ought to be but the dashing timelord got here before me (no really, don’t apologise for being inconveniently handsome elsewhere, one has a duty to spread handsomeness around, I think).

Blogging: I am just contrary about the whole thing. There is something about the murky depths that allows for anarchy and playfulness, though it must be said that that I think I’ve only actually wallowed in Eldernits’ depths. Any other good hotspots, let me know, but on the other hand it’s the secret hidden-awayness of them that makes them good. On the other hand, I have been one of those who have invited responses on most recent posts because when it’s done it’s fresh in the mind, there is the wish, for me at any rate, to know that it has been “received” and at one point I had the idea that one could have these kind of exchanges up there as well as down here, but that was a mistake. Apart from anything, one has to be more polite and well-dressed upstairs.

Erf, the shingles has decided to come back for a return visit, not in a big way, just a warning way. And anyway, ich habe keine lust at the moment to keep posting. When the lust comes back I will, but probably less.

Oh, I had lots to say about blogging and fame, and even (though not as much) about fully-clothed sex, but find myself getting tired already. This is how it is right now, dear peeps. Keep talking.

yes, let's talk about sex said...

That was a very good idea indeed, Dr Horse, Time Lord, PhD.

I share your liking of longing and yearning - I have this feeling I am possibly repeating myself, but I'll be buggered (here used figuratively - edit.) if I go and read all the nonsense I've spewed in previous orgasmathon sessions. Longing and yearning are truly fine things - they heighten the senses and give an edge of beautiful desperation to the fulfillment longed for. It is, however, good to note that some fulfillment is required, whatever shape that takes in the long run - the actual full beauty of the longing, I would argue, comes to realisation when it is in the past, even if momentarily. And of course, fulfillment will forever remain momentary, whereas longing is almost always with us. The moments of feeling satisfied, fulfilled, blissed-out as it were, are by design of life and nature scarce and short.

I am, as I have so often been in the past, dear Dr H T-L PhD, highly pleased with your choicest choice of words and impressed by your linguistic skill and sheer talent. I would like you to wipe away any inclination of "dying of jealousy" however (surely you were joking here merely anyway?) as the experience of "the frantic disorder and grappletastic ripperoo of a clothed romp-fight" is sadly quite unknown to me - I am what you could describe a "ripperoo romp-fight virgin". Sad, but true. We can't all have it all, I suppose.

My dear tired Signs - I hate your shingliepoos with a vengeance - I dislike knowing people are in discomfort, and people I dearly like in particular. Hateful. Feel no pressure to do anything except nipping here for some company, ok? The good Dr and myself will probably waffle, both coherently and in-, for a whole village of (luminous) looniebonkers. But do know your presence here is an absolute must (not to put any pressure on your poor wee ill person or anything).

Are you still having attacks of the Pirate Self coming on? I suddenly remembered this dorkiest pirate joke ever (whilst teaching today, badly chosen moment for dorky pirate jokes), and I think you just need to torment Polly with it:

A pirate walks into the pub with a steering wheel sticking out of his crotch. He goes to order his rhum from the barman.

Excuse me, sir, says the barman, but I can't help noticing you seem to have a steering wheel sticking out of your crotch, Mr Pirate, sir.

Yarrr! the pirate replies. It's driving me nuts.

Ok. Sorry. Over to you two, please. Talk about sex. Talk about anything. Just don't let me talk for a while, yarr?

xxxx two each, because I particularly favour you

Reading the Signs said...

dearest ms yltas - how wonderful that you have cut to the chase and picked up on the "frantic disorder and grappletastic ripperoo of a clothed romp-fight" and admitted to being a virgin of such. I am trying to remember if I am or not. I sort of think not, but I may have been so inebriated that it has become a little unclear. Anyway, in days of yore, well my days of yore at any rate - wasn't it all rather like that? Frantic disorder and grappletastic struggles with the brassiere hooks? I mean, goodness gracious, a nice girl (and I really was) didn't start off in the altogether, she had to kind of get there without appearing to volunteer too much. So he had to be pretty dextrous, I can tell you, and the left hand must never appear to know what the right hand is doing.

Oh - and if you're looking in Mr. P.E. - Ms. That's So Pants has made truly glowing reference to you in her post of May 30th - and seems to be mourning your passing! Obviously has no idea of your life underground. I thought I should make this known to you in case you hadn't spotted it.

I was thinking on what you said about being tired of conventional upstairs blogging and all the people - and how this is most likely because you did seem to draw a very big crowd to your place. It's tough being charismatic, hey Mr. P.E., everyone expecting a piece of you? Is why I work so hard to hide my own light under a bushel - ha har! Oh, am turning pirate again. Time to turn in, sweet ladygents - bis spater.

awtsaisi (a translation of bis spater)

a passing pony said...

If I'm looking in, Signs? IF? Do you honestly think I would allow Anna Mr and yourself the freedom to blether away together unmolested? I had you down as smart, Signs, but this lapse in judgment of yours has got me right proper worried, my shingly princeling.

Now look here You Two, it is seven in the morning and I have had little over three and a half hours sleep. I felt brilliant when I suddenly sprang triumphantly awake and alive about half an hour ago - now I'm not so sure. I think I maybe need to go back to bed.

Reasonably and unusually busy day ahead, but this will be my first stopping off point this evening. In fact, I may just stop here permanently. (try not to be too excited by this news, Anna)

And I'll try not to fixate overly muchly very most wrongly on ripperooing when I come back. I may not try very hard, though. Just a feeling.

You are both most splendid, of course.

Yours, most handsomely,

The Suddenly Knackered Nag.


barely managing to contain my excitement said...

Handsome Nag, please feel free to stay here permanently and stay in bed. In fact, make your permanent bed here and blether delightfully about whatever grabs your fancy, including (or exclusively, should you feel that way inclined) ripperoos, clothed or not. And please make sure Shiny Shingle Signs is dragged along (my instinct tells me she has a hankering towards Flickr houses now, but I can't read comments on those very easily).

Because yes and woe and alas, I must leave you two for a while. Please rest assured I will read in enthusiastically, though, although my keyboardy lips are temporarily sealed.

Much love, grappletastic and otherwise,


A horse said...

Anna MR, Igloo Dweller, hei - I've lurched here from my Flickrdom where I found Signs - or an impostor, it's hard to tell - causing trouble and confusion and, you know, stuff. Most unsettling. I thought I was safe there.

Now. You can't really do anything about it, can you, Anna, if I choose to ramble-rant incoherently? Hmmm. Tempting, certainly, but I am feeling very sensible and mature this evening, unfortunately - this is a result of a computer operating at glacial speeds. It kind of saps the will to live, after a while. So don't worry, I'll look after your blog in a responsibly adult manner whilst your away, Finlander, and will keep the rowdy elements (like Signs) firmly under control.

Anyway, I'm just going to have another look at what's been said here, before coming out with any of my usual garbage.........back soon.

(making a coffee first)


Reading the Signs said...

Well now - while you are off making coffee (coffee? at this time? you are determined to be a poet I see, nothing I can say about chamomile tea will make the slightest bit of difference so I won't even try) - anyway, I have come here with my rowdiness quite intact and I'm having a little party. I have just smoked a cig and lit a joss stick to hide the evidence.

I don't like the sound of keyboardy lips being sealed, or glacially-speeded computers that sap the will to live. This is a job for the Doctor. He is somewhere about, probably. TPE, you must access your inner Time Lord.

Right, well I'm off to zoom about on my broomstick for a bit.

a coffee addict said...

Signs, Signs, Signs - hellooooo. You have just been here surely? I was responding to the absent Anna in my Flickrdom - with dispiriting slowness - and then ran back here as fast as my slowness would allow.

This time, I'm here for good. I'm making another coffee (I know, I know) and then I'm going to get into the bed that The Finlander has left out for me, in her absence.

This page here is my reading material for the night - which is just brilliant, really. Better than reading a book, at any rate. In fact, it's a bit like being able to watch the telly, and then when you shout at the presenters they actually hear you. How magic is that? (not for the presenters, mind, for me)

I'll hopefully see you back here soon, Signs, then I can shout at you, too. Result to end all results.

(going to make a coffee)

poika said...

Okay. I was getting way too earnest with some pained and entirely pointless ramblings on blogging, when I should really have been ripperooing - esp. given the fact that our host seems to have remained disappointingly unripperooed, to date. (Anna - you are "a ripperoo romp-fight virgin"? This is heartbreaking news.)

Anyway, thank God for the delete button. It was a pleasure to wipe it out. However, just "briefly".......

I think everyone would like to know that what they have just written and posted has been "received" - I certainly do - and one of the best ways of knowing if it has been, I suppose, is to see the comments of visitors stack up. That seems normal enough to me. (another way, perhaps, is to look at visitor numbers, the time they spend with you, whether they come back etc - not as enjoyable, granted, but a reasonable enough means of gathering a sense of whether your words are being read or not)

Anyway, if people don't want their words to be read, it would seem like a very good idea not to put them into the public domain. So yes, I think all bloggers must want their words to be received and (hopefully) understood.

Likewise - and without wishing to go into a circular form of never ending tit for tat madness - it maybe follows that the person leaving a comment on the post may also wish to know that their words have been received? That seems a reasonable enough expectation to me.

So, unless a blogger is purely and quite openly out for themselves (fair enough), or unless they are singularly incapable of allowing for the fact that others may also wish to have their words "received" - it strikes me as odd, to say the very least, that they should continue to wish to invite guests into their homes without feeling a sense of reciprocal obligation to at least acknowlege them once they arrive, however perfunctorily they may do so.

(It was at this point that I went to the zoo on some pet hates of mine - bloggers who ignore the people who visit them; the common courtesies that seem to be abandoned by some people in space; the fixation so many seem to have with the most recent post on offer - even if it means ditching a conversation in an older post before it has properly started etc etc etc - and then I realised that I should probably shut my mouth because I barely have a leg to stand on, and because there is no right or wrong way to do these things, anyway. It really is a case of each to their own.)

You're probably right, though, Signs, it is very difficult to have longer, freer conversations upstairs as well as downstairs. And I would say that if a blogger posts daily - sometimes more than just the once - then this becomes almost impossible.

Then again, I absolutely adore quick fire, snappy exchanges, too (truly, I am a hypocrite and I am damned). But you need to feel very sure of your company if you engage in these, because the potential for misunderstandings and unintentional wounding is radically higher than in an exchange where there is time to both develop your thoughts and top and tail your comments with placatory pleasantries.

But no, I never mind when people come to my blog - even if quite a few occasionally turn up. In fact, I love it. Sometimes, though, I just go a bit strange and feel tired and freaked and, well, strange again.

For a seeming (and actual) show-off, I usually find it very nearly unbearable to draw attention to myself - I know, I know, but I'm just going to ask you to believe that I'm telling the truth. It can feel a little bit like agony at times.

Plus, I am a dick in the way I make my answers too long - and, come to think of it, my comments in other people's homes (sorry Finlander, I'll be done in a minute).

I missed the thing Ms Pants wrote, yes. I went and looked (obviously) and didn't really know what to do. Pantaloon, my heroine, clearly thinks I'm dead. I don't want her to take the words down, because they filled me with happy pride and actually made me feel a little bit sad, too - so I think I may just have to play dead for a while longer, yet.

Sweet Mother of mary, I've done it again. I really was just going to make a few concise points about blogging and then get to grips with lust-grapples. I haven't even really answered anything or directly added to any points made. I've just rambled like a tosser. This is surely why I sometimes need to take a break - nothing else.

Next time: fully clothed sex.

With apologies to both (esp. to you Anna, for disfiguring your blog and talking about anything but orgasms in a post about the little death), I bid you a temporary farewell.

Wishing you both many happy ripperoos,

Your agitated, clearly imbalanced friend,

Ponyboy (or girl) of Ireland xx

Reading the Signs said...

dear ponyperson - your various digressions are always a pleasure - so watch it. I also feel quite strongly about the small but significant courtesies and netiquettes of comment/response. Good manners, I like, they open up many things which would otherwise be difficult. Discourtesy is, at worst, a wound on the soul, or a kind of substance robbery. Don't ask me to explain. I have just been watching the Doctor and drinking an Amstel (quite low in alcohol but it doesn't take much - a bottle of that and I'm anybody's).

But anyway, back to basics. Are you suggesting that you plan to provide our dear hostess with the experience which life so far has denied her? A virtual riperoo experience? Gosh. I am all agog. In an intellectual kind of way, obviously.

stallion, overheating said...

Signs, here, have another Amstel (or three). No, no, I insist.

I was trying to think of some way to work tulips into the conversation so that I could make some lame joke about "tulips from (or for) Amstel Dame".

I swear to God I've not touched alcohol since early September 2005 - I'm sober, okay? - and still I found myself trying to make this lameness a reality. I am shocked by the levels I will stoop to. Although, Amstel Dame may well be something I am forced to call you every once in a while.

Agreed about the good manners thing, Signs. Not just on the internet, of course, but everywhere and always. I also think it is perfectly possible to furiously disagree with someone without there ever being a need to get personal. Not always easy to resist the temptation, sure, but doable nevertheless.

Anyway, blah blah....serious issues....blah. Sorted.

I am shocked to hear that you are anybody's after a bottle of Amstel, Dame. Shocked. I had you down as a freer spirit than that, Ms Sensuality, and rather hoped you would reach this stage without recourse to alcohol consumption at all. I can see that I'm going to have to start putting aside beer money again, God damn it.

Where was I? Yes, the thought of virtually ripperooing Anna MR holds immense appeal - in an intellectual way, obviously. And more than that, in fact, I feel it would allow me to show my more compassionate side to fellow bloggers if I were to provide this service (totally free of charge - no, honestly) to the uninitiated, the untouched, the unripperooed.

I'm not saying that ripperooing Anna MR would necessarily make me indistinguishable from Jesus, no - merely that the kindness of the act would help set me apart from the more selfish and self-interested hordes.

Hang on though, Signs, you seem to be mistaking ripperooing for youthful fumblings with bra fastenings or belt buckles or whatever. NO. That's just fumbling and yes, everyone does a bit of that.

Ripperooing is altogether more frantic and fevered and animaltastically deviant. Things get ripped, Signs - I know, it's disgraceful - and I'm not entirely sure that too much attention would be paid to bra fastenings, either. Maybe once the action elsewhere is properly and rough-thrustily under way, then yes, a bra may be pushed up or pulled down - but fumbling with fastenings? What sort of a passion is it that would allow for such a time consuming distraction?

I should just say, I feel, that ripperooing works both ways. I am just as likely to be ripperooed as you are, Signs. And the angels must surely cover their eyes when both parties spontaneously and simultaneously ripperoo together. This is dirty, borderline violence, as the selfish and needy combatants lustily abandon their morals, reserve and sense of self, and simply devour one another with a filthy and furiously desperate longing. I think.

Kids - just say NO.

Anyway, I only really wanted to tell you about the Tulips From Amstel Dame thing, so I'd best bugger off before things turn blue around here. (Although I would maybe quite like the chance to clear my name - should the police come calling - and so may very well be forced to return to the subject.)

From a safe-house, with love to you both,

Bad Doctor Horse x


Wow, that Stallion guy seems pretty wrong in the head on soooo many levels.

Anyway, you should be back today, Anna MR - so this is just a hello and hei for you to see when you get here. I hope you've had a relaxing and beautiful time away, and that you feel re-energised and recharged and full of the wonders of the world.

One other thing (re blogging) before I forget - I have absolutely nothing against people inviting comments onto their new posts (this is, maybe, a central aspect to bloggying, after all), I only mean that I find myself grumbling when it seems to have become the be all and end all for the host blogger. Phew. I just wanted to make that clear and start the long journey towards restoring my reputation for cool and sophisticated sanity.

Welcome back, Anna, your blog home didn't burn down in your absence. You can thank me later.

Love to you - and maybe also an inappropriately placed hand on the small of your back (not enough to call the police out over, sure, but certainly something that makes you feel slightly uncomfortable)

TPE xx

Reading the Signs said...

now look here, Mr. Stallion - there are degrees of riperooing, so don't just be relegating my particular adventures to mere fumblings, if for no other reason than I have a reputation to maintain as a cool and gunslinging hipster. Do they riperoo? Well actually, I may have to ponder this one.

p.s. upbarkfb (barking up the f*ing bloddy wrong tree)

oh my! said...

A Horse, A Coffee Addict, Poika, Mr Stallion Overheating, Reading the Signs, Periodic Englishman (hope I remembered everyone?!) - hello.

It is fabulous to see you all gathered here, and I have a distinct feeling I may be less virginal than when I set out for my weekend break. Oho! ( Shhh - Mr Stallion - see me later. Special message for you included here.)

I heartily agree with everything you lot have said about manners and blogging and comments. Manners are good, particularly good manners. All bloggers do want to be read, at least on some level. Comments are funny things... I don't know why people feel the need to say "great post" at every great post their blogpals write. I mean, you know. Do we need that sort of encouragement? I would hate to think people would say something I wrote was great just because they thought I'd otherwise feel they don't love me or something. I think I comment if I want to say something, either about what's been written or to the person who wrote it - or indeed, another commenter. However, I see no reason for comments to be related to a post at all, in some ways (particularly when we get down as low as we are, all puns intended) - but even upstairs. If someone wants to say, hey Anna, I hear you dislike Big Brother, what's all that shit about or WHATEVER on the comments page, then I have no problem. It's like the public forum of a blog, I think. On the other hand, I must allow for the fact that the "great post" commenters actually think that every time. It wouldn't be at all impossible. I just don't really do it myself, but that hardly makes it the absolute norm everybody else's commenting has to measured against.

I sometimes smell the potential in blogging for a popularity contest on one hand (I found that battle of blogs things, even when I had no part in it, to play exactly into the hands of all my anxieties) and a certain inner-circle who-plays-with-whom sandpit mentality. This is all crystal clear in my mind but when I go to explain it, it diffuses and becomes vague and inexplicable, though - so it may indeed be that this is just due to my personal afore-mentioned anxieties.

Now then. Serious stuff sorted. More sex please, we're bloggers. I need to post this comment and then compare it against yours to see if I have managed to address even a fraction of the subjects raised in my absence. Oh, and dear McPoni Time Lord - thank you for watering the plants and keeping the house warm in my absence. Much appreciated. Hope you found the bed comfy.

(Signs, TPE - It is very nice to be back in your fine company, my dear hearts. I have missed you. Shhh, never tell anyone, that was really pathetic of me. xxxx)

happy horse said...

Welcome back, Anna. You'll find everything in order and just as you left it (give or take an extremely inappropriate comment or two) - and your flowers have never looked better.

I'm going home now to pick up the mail and feed my girlfriend, but will be back in short order - such is the potent allure of your company.

Signs, you are clearly a Fumble-Frollicker, face facts. There is nothing wrong with fumbling - fumbling is good, in fact, a distant and less distinguished cousin of ripperooing, sure, but worth a look in, nevertheless. (your word verification, however, was v. good - so don't be saying I'm always bad to you, or anything.)

Anna, I'll be back soon, alright. (I may even need to return to some of the things about blogging you mentioned - what's wrong with you? We need to grapple with both the ripper and the oo, surely? Quit raising interesting points about other stuff, k?)

Anyway, I missed you and don't feel there is anything pathetic about the fact, either. You would insult Poor Poni and The Fumbling Fraulein by suggesting it is pathetic to miss us? Do we mean so little to you? I am very hurt and so is Signs (she may not be, of course, but, as she is not here, I am forced to entirely make up stuff on her behalf. She'll thank me for it later.)

Welcome home.


Anna MR said...

Ah, blessed and beloved Happy Horse - of course I don't mean to say it is pathetic to miss you and Signs of Amstel Dame (good one, that) - I said it was pathetic to say so. I don't rightly know why I said it was pathetic to say so, except probably to cover my tracks in case I was the only one doing any missing whatsoever. You know. Plain old emotional cowardice. Oh, you have exposed me, Sir Horse.

Do come back, though, as quick as your mail and feeding frenzies are done. I had been sitting here wondering whether the party was over now that I'd returned. It seems it isn't - hurrah.

Fräulein Fumbles - where the hell are you, is what I'd like to know about now.


Reading the Signs said...

welcome back, O Prince, to your own domain - and about time too - it is a lovely home you have here but we require your presence otherwise we begin to stumble and fumble - no, what am I saying? Oh yes - I am not a fumbler, me! The fact that I have been fumbled doesn't make me one, does it? But the less distinguished cousin of the riperoo, I like. You have a way with words, Mr. happy horse.

I think you have to explain, anna, what you mean about feeling less virginal etc. Have you had a riperoo weekend?

wpohky - which is really rather suggestive, I think.

Mr Stallion said...

Yes, I had wondered about that, too, Signs.

Anna MR - is there maybe a chance that you were ripperooed in the wilderness? I think we need to know. (or maybe you pounced on a passing herdsman and ripperooed him or her?)


Anna MR said...

Oh now, my dearest you two - don't tell me you failed to notice the spacey advances in space someone made towards my ethereal person only a few comments above? In fact, hells bells - it was you, cruel and forgetful Mr Stallion.

Ok, so I don't get to go out very much. It felt like being ripperooed to me.


Anna MR said...

And, my dearest travellers in internal time and ethereal space, my fellow tardis lovers - yes, you two, you know who I'm talking about and to - you simply have to know I have been thoroughly searched (for 9 minutes 34 seconds) by someone looking for information on "tardis alko". Yes.

Now of course, if they search again, they will come right here, all squealing with joy thinking they have hit the spring of all knowledge on this topic. Well, they may be right.

If you are here, oh Seeker for the Truth on Tardis Alko, welcome. Say something silly and you may stay.

Reading the Signs said...

This got me googling, anna - I am either an intrepid explorer or a sad git, but anyway, it seems to have something to do with caravans rather than travels in time and space. Now if it had been alcopops (very disgusting) I might have had more to say.

As it is, I do not have much to say about anything, perhaps a symptom of being rather more than usual cut off from the world for the past 5 weeks or so, apart from a trip to London to see a play daughter has been directing and a day's poetry workshopping.

I have never considered myself reclusive by nature, but sometimes feel the urge to be so for a while. It may be that I am building up to an extraordinary burst of creative activity (I wish. I am interested to see that two of my favourite blogging people (ms pants and the mercurial TPE) have spoken about the draw of the solitary life. For me it is sometimes a way of gathering energy. It is not always enjoyable but I usually emerge feeling more concentratedly myself - odd, as I really do love all the different ways of engaging with people.
This is a bit off-topic from riperooing, I realise. Interested in your thoughts, though, princeling and prince/ss.

Anna MR said...

Beloved Signs - there is NO off-topic here, alright? I thought that was made crystal-clear to all, but no, you just have to continue being awkward and lovable, don't you. Let me say it again:

Anyone can say anything on any one of my posts. If they are rude and horrible in a truly rude, horrible and unfriendly way towards anybody, I'll set the hounds of hell and dogs of war on them (and chuck them out). This, however, is never the case with you (two) my orgasmathonic friend(s). So come on, Signs, anything goes, ok?

I, too, have increasingly being withdrawing from a "real-time" social world. My life has been one continuous upheaval for the past two - three years, though, so this is probably at least partially a natural reaction, and a very necessary one. I realise many probably consider me a bit of a saddo, if between a party on a Friday night and spending the night in internet-spoddy contemplation I will almost without failure choose the latter (I need a real obligation to go out, you know). But, hey, see if I give a shit.

I found that during my recent weekend break I started to feel my creative juices flowing. Unhappily, they seem to have dried up again upon my re-entry into civilisation (and a computer, which is really the way of getting your creative thingies down, in the end, so this wee tale had a blah ending). Maybe, however, when I start my holiday (after Friday) something will happen within me again. It would certainly feel nice.

In the meantime, and even if something creative moves within me, however - I love having my blogpally friends to hang out with, and talk serious and bollocks all mixed up. It is good. Thank you, Signs...



Never fear, Signs, ripperooing is always in the background (for me, at any rate).

Being cut-off, alone, by oneself, solitary - or whatever term you choose (although they mean slightly different things, I suppose) - doesn't mean being lonely, certainly. Or it shouldn't.

There is too much to be gained from solitude to ever feel the need to be lonely. Likewise, a choice to retreat is in no way (necessarily) indicative of a desire to either a) do so permanently or b) signal a surrender. And it should never be easily assumed to mean that the solitude-seeker entirely eschews the notion of friendly company.

This is why the internet is often such a godsend (from personal experience, anyway).

But you sound flat, Signs, maybe a bit sad or weary or something? I'm sorry, I don't mean to be prying or making you uncomfortable or anything like that - but it serves as a useful example of the limitations of such contact as we have now, here, in this public/private-feeling space. I can't see you, Signs, I can only grab what I can from the feel of your words.

So there is even an element of aloneness in these contacts we have, I suppose, because you (I don't necessarily just mean you specifically, Signs) are denied the chance of proper comfort, and I am denied the chance to fully express any warmth/concern/reachy-outness I wish to extend to you.

It doesn't make the contact less real or meaningful, it merely shifts the attention to other means of companionable expression - and yes, this can be frustrating, I suppose.

But, before I disappear up my own behind with all this barely relevant muse-pondering, I need to rein myself in. Yes, a temporary withdrawal allows for a recharging and can certainly be the precursor to creative rampagings. Not just the precursor, either, but the inspiration and instigator, too.

Personally speaking, I often use my dealings with people out here as an excercise in rampaging creativity, anyway. This sounds horrible, but it's like when plumbers bleed your heaters - a sort of unblocking, a way to make things run more smoothly. Before the task is completed, there is often a gurgling and frothy sound as the imperfections are flushed from the system.

In space, right here, I gurgle out the impurities and it helps me immeasurably to do so. And I'm not just talking about flaws in writing technique, either. Everything.

You don't seem like a recluse, Signs, and you're certainly not alone. It just sometimes feels necessary to withdraw without withdrawing. Because it just does.

Anna - are you okay today, darling you?

I'm buggering off for a bit, back later. (And can we PLEASE get back to the good stuff. Sheesh. I don't know what that Signs is playing at. Who does she think she is? Me?)


(divvy them up, girls and boy girls, I feel like spreading love.......)


Oh, Anna - you sneaked in under the radar. Hello.

No, I definitely don't think you are a saddo. There is precisely nothing wrong with reaching out to people in space. Nothing. (I actually maybe went a wee bit far making this point in someone else's blog earlier - we'll see. I hope not, because it wasn't meant in a nasty way, but I do get tired of hearing internet friendships and relationships being deemed as lesser - in that they are somehow "not real". Bollocks. They are just different from the accepted norm, that's all - although, as I just said, there are certainly frustrations involved.)

Glad to hear you confirm to Signs that you have an open house here, Anna - but I knew this anyway (which is one of the reasons I hang about like a lame-brain). But yes, everyone should be allowed to say anything, right up until the point they become offensive to the host blogger - be it through direct and personally insulting bejaviour, or by badgering other guests etc. Then it's pretty much okay to tell them to fuck off.

Which is what I am definitely doing now. Back later.

Your loving weirdo.......(enough kisses last time, I think)

Anna MR said...

Signs, you did sound down, also at a couple of other locations where I spotted you today. It is ONLY therefore, then, that I leave some of McEnglishman's kisses for you, too, because, after all, I got here first and am greedily picking them up, putting them to good use...oh, all right, yes yes, I will leave you some. I will even give you some of my own, all specially like:
xxxxxxxxx ok now?

(You DO sound a little down. Would you like to elaborate, Signsypoo? We're here for you, you know.)

Englishman, McDarling, thank you for asking. I am fine here, all the better for seeing you two, and, oh what a lucky girl, already TWICE today. Have boring responsibilities to go to in a moment, but hoping to see you later on tonight.

If you are in the mood to spread love, may I interpret that as you being happy today? I would very much like that to be the case.

Kisses specially for you too

Anna MR said...

Christ, Englishman, it was you doing the sneaking. Hello, goodbye, don't fuck off for long, will you. You are always both wanted and sorely missed around these parts.

Yes, you stingikisses, your kisses are in the above post, too, so nyaah

(ok one x)


Of course, there is no such word as "bejaviour". I'm not saying that there shouldn't be, just that at the time of writing there isn't.

I think I probably meant to say "behaviour".

Mr Stallion said...

Wow. We are stepping all over each other here, Anna. Get out of my bloody way.

No, you may not take it as a sign that I'm feeling happy today, merely that I feel like spreading love, reaching out, connecting. You did ask - and the weather is affecting my outlook. So be careful.

And where have you been seeing Signs today? Do you mean to say that the two of you can actually be found elsewhere? This news floors me.

Flabbered, and not a little gasted,

Your Man Poni


The Ice Maiden said...

Sweet Mr Stallion, My Man Poni dearest, I would hasten to your mighty House of Flickr, if I were you, to see what I have seen. Check out the thread for gasping and wailing in religious fervour.

We have indeed been all over each other's foot(hoof?)prints in the last half an hour. I find this delightful in the extreme.

I think I shall interpret your mood as being affected brightly by the weather, which is a good thing, surely, anyway? I certainly hope so, Mr Stallion My Man Poni, because I am always fervently wishing for good things to happen to you. Very Good Things, in fact.

Hoping to catch you later on again, dear you.


intrigued stallion said...

I am leaving these shores for The Kingdom of Flickr, then, in an unseemly rush (slowness of computer permitting, of course, and in expectation of my system crashing around me).

To Flickr......

Reading the Signs said...

Have I told you both how gorgeous you are? You are, and I'm not talking about - you know - well I'm not just talking about the physical, dammit, ok Mr. Stallion I know what you're about to say. No I don't. I have just imagined what you're about to say. I am also imagining prince Finland's face at the moment - extremely radiant. This is a translation, you understand, because of the radiance of loveliness that magically comes through words - your words and those of the intrigued stallion in this particular instance. I am not meaning to be coy about the question you asked, but all I have to say at this moment is that you are both gorgeous.
Back later.
xx (whaddya mean I'm stingy? Ok I hoard - I never know when I might need them!)

Ice Maiden, the Princeling of Finland said...

Right then.

It really got rather busy here a few hours ago, what with myself and My Man Poni, the Handsome Stallion treading on each others toes and hooves and getting tangled in each other's manes and pageboy haircuts. (In case you are wondering, Signs, (or indeed, my elusive silent reader(s), for you may be there, one day), it was very enjoyable indeed, but it was difficult to get anything said.)

And then, oh woe and wail and weep, I had to go and broker a peace deal between warring Somali factions. It has to be said, I thought rather a fine diplomatic solution was reached (Finns are famous for these, if you don't count the Civil War or the Winter War or the Second World War). It remains to be seen, however, whether the warring factions keep to the outlines we set out today, fine as these outlines were. So much depends on the individuals, you see.

Anyhow. We need to get back to the good stuff, yes, I quite agree with you, dear Mr Stallion there (as indeed, in so many other instances, too). And lo! And ha! And ho! Because, as if by magical powers (mere good internet connections, actually), I have seen the future, the future of my past...and the past was only now, when I wrote about agreeing with Mr Stallion. But now, we have entered the future, like the good little Time Lords, Ladies and Lordlings (take your pick, my friends) that we are, and the future is golden. Because, my dears, I see in it a rather radiant and loving, as well as extremely lovable, letter from my dear Signs.

Oh, I like the future, the future of my past.

The good stuff. We need to get back to it. We need to go rippletastically grabberoo, grippletastically groperoo, grabtastically ripperoo, any and all of the above, in any and all combinations. We need to talk about the good stuff.

Is it not a wonder how all of our human culture, all of our past and future, everything our species has been, is now, and may one day become, all hinges on the fairly obscure mystery of how come two people wish to get nakedly grabtastic with each other - and I mean, two particular people, as this is still often the case, people do exercise an amount of choice, often based on a degree of mutual attraction. The choice is seemingly endless (yes, well, for Man/Gods in particular, I hasten to add), yet people do, for some reasons unknown to science or religion, fancy particular people. All our Mozarts, Einsteins, William Blakes, you, me, the bad guys, everyone, the people who do people and have peopled and, dammit, even if in-vitro fertilisation is on the increase, will continue to people our world, all here because of this elusive thing - desire.

Ain't it strange? I am of course fully aware of the fact that most of us wish to make babies (for real) relatively few times in our lives, whereas the same most of us wish to get naked with a fanciable other virtually all the time (well, by comparison anyway). However, this doesn't stop the mysteries of creation - of people - and the mysteries of sexual attraction being linked. I think we did indeed touch upon this some seventy, seventy-five comments up, but I am on a strange roll and cannot go and look now. What I really want to emphasise is the mystery of wanting - why does person A want person B, not the rest of the alphabet? The rest of the alphabet are just as good and wantable. What triggers this strange phenomenon?

All right. My roll was rather long. It has now left me. But the floor is now yours, my dearest friends.

Multiply this x with this x, giving either x an infinite value. Then divide the resulting x's in any way you like, there'll still be plenty.

(I may need to go and lie down now.)

Reading the Signs said...

dear ice maiden, this is definitely one for Mr. Stallion to take up as I have nothing intelligent to say. Not that intelligence is everything, especially in the domain of the riperoo, but it helps.
Yesterday I was aweary, damn these words for how they let everything shine through, but on the other hand they also let the other things through - thank you. Not so aweary today. Experimenting with daft novel-writing software.
xxxxxx (3 each)

Anna MR said...

Beloved Signs - am pouncing on you instantly as have not only missed you but also been more than a mite concerned for you. I am glad to hear you are less a-wearied today - and do let me tell you straight up how wonderful and lovely your note (above The Ice Maiden's mad roll) was. The only reason it didn't receive a special and separate answer of its own was simply that it arrived, was read and hugely appreciated half-way through the said roll, after which this particular blogger had to go and let her keyboard catch its breath.

Daft novel-writing software? This sounds something I would like an experiment upon, too. Although maybe mine should be daft-novel writing software. Signsypoo - I have asked you before, I shall ask you again. Is there any chance I might be able to access your (other than bloggy) writing anywhere? Not that I am feeling unfulfilled by your bloggy writing, far from it. I just incredibly much enjoy the glimpse into the private internal lives of my friends, loved ones and blogpals their creative work allows me. Also, I have a feeling your stuff is wonderful and that I'd receive beautiful experiences from it. (Feel free to just say no, incidentally, I won't be offended. Also, rest assured I will probably pester you again at some point - unless you make it crystal clear you find this unpleasant.)

Anyhow, hope to see you soon, dear you.

xxx all for you

Anna MR said...

Handsome Mr Stallion - where are you? I have been looking for you quite extensively - on my bloggy, on your bloggy (where I happily and gratefully did find your lovely message), in Ireland, in Scotland, in my church, in my attic...and I have this distinctest of feelings you are about, but silent.

Should you really wish to remain silent, dear Dr Stallion, Mr, do so do so - no need to force neighs or letters out of your system. This is just to encourage you (gently, kindly, indeed with a true horse whisperer touch) to take part - your inimitable, handsome part - in this conversation, which has become bogged down with, um, The Ice Maiden's lunacy, which Signs just cannot face taking on in her present state of tired exhaustion.

Just saying, you know...

xxx all for you

Anonymous said...

Hei. Yes, I've been roving freely all over your site this past wee while, Anna MR. You have caught me snooping around, no mistake.

I've not abandoned you here with lovely Signs, you weirdy Finn, I've just mainly been looking at other parts of your bloggy, although I did briefly pop over to say hello to Signs in her own home - in the most recent post, no less. (I am a showboater, it must be so, and I will surely burn most fiercely in hell for it.)

But I'll be back in here soon, sweety, no worries on that front. I still need to take in properly what has recently been said. xx

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