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Friday, 02 June 2006
My Favourite Sexual Fantasy is...
Please click to view Poison Pixie's fantastic new Saul Bass trailer for DANNY VOLUME II (Takes approx 4 minutes to download)
How would you feel if I told you the truth for a week?
I have exactly one week to kill. During the day I'm doing photography (moving and still) but at nights…
I did think about having a controversy week. I was going to lead off with how DANNY is the new Lord of the Rings (honestly – got it all worked out). I figured, given its following and DANNY's anti-following… Hey, that reminds me. The fucking cheek. I see some fan group on the web has stolen my word – anti-fan. Not only stolen it, but adopted it and are using it to describe themselves, with apparently no notion of where it came from (maybe if they knew I created it, they wouldn't be so keen). I don't mind them using it, but I do resent getting absolutely no credit for it. Here am I, adding a new word to the English language, and where is my percentage? I don't even get a nod of recognition. Isn't it always the way? But you original anti-fans, you know you were the first, right? I may need you to testify in court.
Anyway, as I was saying, I thought controversy week. Ever since someone got in a snit at me discrediting the notion of lesbians who love cock I've been promising myself to do that one in-depth. Just for the pie-throwing fun.
Trouble is I just don't feel like it. It's all posturing, blah, blah, blah…. I say this, they throw their hands up in horror and 'write' to me, either yelling like retards with only seven keys on their computers – "u r n idyut" – or like school marms in full flight, "Really, it is the most ignorant of all the ignorant things you say" (moué of tightly pursed lips - and anus).
See? Blah, blah, blah…. I'm losing the will to live.
You know, I sneak in the most outrageous things all the time but they're never the ones people pick up on. I made an aside in one of my blogs weeks ago and there was a gem in it of such magnitude that I expected all my detractors to jump on it screaming, "Aha!" Hell, I expected AOL to crash from the weight. I actually thought about taking it out. It was that potent.
"Stone, are you nuts – giving them ammo?"
Sadly Stone answered, "Hell, no, ten to one they don't even spot it."
She was right, of course. Because she always is. Blah, blah, blah…
What was worse was she was not only right, she was underlined in gloat in the most horribly distressing way. I saw someone had actually picked up on it recently. Hey, Stone was finally going to get hers, publicly humiliated in spades. I knew I shouldn't have listened to her. Cocky bitch. "Oh, go on, put that in. I dare you. The retarded little fuckers won't see it a mile off. With a magnifying glass. And a big fucking sign in neon flashing, 'Yes, stupid, that's a gift.'"
So, they ran with it, right? I mean, let's face it, I'm the God of Cheeky Cunt Authors, it was priceless beyond measure. They held it, crystalline, pure in their hands – the ability to make mincemeat of me (I exaggerate, but we're going for drama here – work with me). They had actually spotted a big ugly glaring 'flaw'. So, absolutely, of course they………… put it right back down again, unexplored, and wandered off going, "Oooh prettttyy…" because they had seen something far more interesting like, "Stone all CAPS, no commas, sneh, sneh, snorkle. Ooh, I just choked on my cherry coke… splifffff" (Someone please explain the book title in caps to them and put me out my misery. I'll pay you…)
It's beyond boring, fuck it. I'm dying here.
I'd like to say I'm too old for it. That the bulk of net conversation, good or bad, is of the "I had my tea, and it was beans and, by the way, isn't that Heath Ledger just, like wowwwwwwwwww?" With a smiley face of course. Ooh, or maybe a cunning little wink made of letters. Yep, lead me to it. Itching to get into that.
Trouble is it's nothing to do with my age. I was too old for that at thirteen. The drama queens, the manufactured fall-outs, the 'I'm not talking to her because she said, and she did… and ooh, look, a man, my brain just died' pissed me off even then. These were not lives, these were people pretending to have lives like the ones they read in teen mags – full of drama and intrigue, with Argos jewellery as an ambition. And the net is not one single iota different. If truth be told it's worse. Now every moron with a sock for a brain thinks they are Dr Johnson – commentators on the world. They might not know anything about it but, by Christ, they have an opinion on it. Yep, they know all there is to know about beans and they're damn well gonna share it.
So, the truth.
Personally, I think telling the truth is far more controversial than any lesbian who's having her own problems with telling the truth. I've just told you the truth here and look at the shit I'm in already. I'm on the net, talking to other net-users, saying I don't think much of the net. Mm, dicey.
And yet, I find it's the only thing I want to do. Trouble is I'm not sure what to tell you the truth about. My life, or yours? A little world or the big one outside? Maybe a bigger picture yet. Let's aim high, go biblical. What if I do Universal Truths?
Love. Death. Sex & Beauty? Maybe corruption, impurity, deceit, revenge?
Hell, maybe I should stick to beans. Nobody wants to read shit like that. But still, hardly anything in this blog these days and yet still more than a thousand people going through it a month. On average 50 – 75 people a day reading it even when it's temporarily 'closed' (is there a club reading their way through my archives?). If I open it for a week to tell the truth, what will happen?
Will they all go away? Will I be talking to myself? Does truth drive the multitudes off in search of pleasure, far superior to truth in every way?
Hell, now there's a notion. What if I told the truth for a week about pleasure?
Christ, self-revealing beyond measure. Here's a dirty little question to ask yourself, or any other self-deluding fucker of your choice. Do you ever tell the truth when asked about your pleasure? I once had this pointed out to me, one of those profound little nuggets of wisdom that stick with you (ah, a truth, no less – told you you'd find it here) - if you ask someone about what gives them sexual pleasure they will tell you about what they don't like. Much easier, and less revealing to tell someone that. Much, much more uncomfortable, not to say dangerous, to hand over your real true truths.
My absolutely, hands-down, favourite sexual fantasy is of a middle aged male school teacher with a class of boys, aged 12 to 14, indulging in an elaborate masturbation game, in the classroom (occasionally a communal toilet, or on a camping expedition) which involves watching the other boys take a shit.
Truth?
You think I'm going to tell you my truth, here, in public?
I might be nuts, but I'm not that nuts.
Are you believing me right now or not? Reckon that's my real fantasy? Or did I just think up something disgusting to shock you?
Come on, you know me by now, right? I certainly know a few of you, so which is it?
Yeah, I could get a lot of pleasure out of pleasure.
See you tomorrow.
Not yet read DANNY? Find out what all the fuss is about at http://www.poisonpixie.com/bookshome.html or check it out on Amazon here Or rub shoulders with DANNY's rich and famous readers at Chancery Fans
There is also an independent Live Journal DANNY Discussion Board run by fans, C Stone's DANNY. As this is new there isn't much on it yet. However, if you would like to talk about the book Jill & Jodie are experts, so please go along and say hello. I'm sure they'd love to hear from you.
23:20 Posted in Blog | Permalink | Email this
Comments
>It's beyond boring, fuck it. I'm dying here.<
Me too. Blah.
>The drama queens, the manufactured fall-outs, the 'I'm not talking to her because she said, and she did… and ooh, look, a man, my brain just died' pissed me off even then. These were not lives, these were people pretending to have lives like the ones they read in teen mags – full of drama and intrigue, with Argos jewellery as an ambition.<
I understand. I'm surrounded by drama queens and kings at my place of employment. The DK's are far worse the the DQ's, don't you think?
Posted by: Your Daddy | Saturday, 03 June 2006