Yesterday, I had some people over for Sunday lunch. We got rather drunk and ended up watching a porn movie I'd been sent to review (no, it wasn't some kind of pervy party, it just seemed like a good idea after several glasses of wine.)
No-one was that impressed. The men in the video were ugly.
Porn was followed by turning on the TV to watch one of the guys who was at the party's show. There is definitely something odd about watching someone on TV whilst sitting next to them.
This morning, the house was not in a good state. If there was a surface not covered with glasses, empty wine bottles or ashtrays, I certainly didn't find it. Feel virtuous though - I tidied the entire house first thing, despite my somewhat aching head. And made stock. And soup from the left over veg.
Feel all 'Good Housekeeping'. Maybe I am getting old.
I don't tend to do the politics thing all that much but a mate forwarded this
to me and I actually got it.
But back to smut. Another mate sent me this. You've got to love the animations.
Today I'm feeling virtuous because I've written loads of stuff for Cliterati. I interviewed Playboy writer Margot C Lester and sex activist/writer/photographer Heather Corinna for our Sexual Pioneers feature. Margot gave and intelligent and entertaining idea of what it's like working for one of the best-selling men's mags in the world. Heather gave some truly inspiring comments on women in the sex industry.
One of the sites Heather runs is Scarleteen which gives no-nonsense sexual advice to teenagers. She's outraged that sites like Savekaryn can get upwards of $10,000 to pay off the owner's Prada-habit induced credit card debts when Scarleteen, which provides 5,000+ teenagers in America with sex advice every day has never received that much money. I'm inclined to agree with her, so if you're feeling nice, donate some cash.
And it's worth supporting. Two pieces of research have come out last week that shocked me. One reported that two thirds of 16-25 year olds in the UK don't use condoms; 56 per cent of 16-18 year olds and a terrifying 74 per cent of 22-25 year olds. And 80 per cent have had a one night stand as a result of alcohol.
Another claimed that 43 per cent of 15-19 year olds in Japan have five or six 'fuck-buddies' (they call them sekusutomo - sex friends). Again, they practice unsafe sex.
My standard line is 'Would you throw yourself under a train for your lover? If not, don't have sex without a condom unless you've both been tested and it's come back clean. You're risking death and nasty diseases. And love doesn't protect against STIs.'
Never has 'Don't die of ignorance.' rung so true.
After a weekend of testing stuff for cliterati, I've had my fill of smut - although I've still got to actually write the reviews. And I've just been sent a mail from the lovely people at Lovehoney which presents me with a challenge.
They've just started stocking the new Durex Performa Condoms that delay
ejaculation. I seem to remember reading that they work by having a small amount of anaesthetic inside them to make everything less sensitive. Obviously, these are good things to test.
However, I need to find a prematurely ejaculating man. It's not the kind of thing you can ask people. 'Hi, was just calling to see if your bloke comes to quickly?'
How to lose friends and upset people.
May have to put up a plea on Cliterati.
I remember spotting a strange definition in a psychological dictionary when I was a student. It described premature ejaculation as:
A man achieving orgasm before his partner is satisfied.
Must have been written by a woman.
So, this weekend I've got a load of stuff to review. There are a couple of films, a toy and some books. But I'm having a hard time keeping a straight face, thanks to the first book I'm trying to review. It includes such gems as "pay your loving respects to the Lizard King" and tell him how much you love his "Mushroom of Immortality".
Yeah right. I can see that one working brilliantly at giving a bloke the horn rather than making him collapse in hysterics.
But the best bit is the guide to penis reflexology. Yes, apparently the penis has pressure points that 'enliven the corresponding parts of his body, heart and mind'. For example, you can 'soothe his sore throat and cough by concentrating your fingerwork on the coronal ridge which will also encourage him to express his emotions more readily'.
I can see that one working so well.
'Darling, I've got flu so I can't see you tonight.'
'No, it's fine. I'll give you a quick hand-job and it'll all go away.'
And millions of people buy these books. It's depressing.
This has been a good week for Cliterati media coverage. I was quoted in Cosmopolitan (talking about about sex from behind) at the beginning of the week. I wrote a piece for Revolution about my email and newsletter habits. And today, I did an interview with Jack and Ali on Spin 103.8.
They were lovely; spelled out the URL twice, asked intelligent questions and were really friendly.
Now, I've got a weekend ahead of reviewing smut and sex toys for cliterati. Sometimes what I do really doesn't feel like work.
The fabulous Heather Corinna has written a great piece about whether she's too normal to be a sex writer. Sample quote:
"... a friend and colleague, who is a heterosexual male, was asking for ideas of presses he could take his [erotic] book to. My thought process went a bit like this: Well, there's....oh, no, feminist. Or...nope, queer feminist. But how about...oh, mainly gay male. Or...no, all they seem to be doing anymore is fetish.
And it struck me, right in the middle of my freckled forehead that at this juncture in time, smut and sex writing may be one of the only places in the world in which your average hetero white dude is at a serious disadvantage."
Maybe this is why some men (by no means all - most of 'em rock) have a problem with female sex writers?
the slut blog: uninhibited, straightforward and nasty.
So today, I've been with my bloke for five years. That's *forever*.
Am particularly impressed that we haven't killed each other yet, given that for four of those years, we've been living *and* working together (We've followed each other from job to job - whenever we start something new, they either have a gap in marketing or tech and because we both rate each other professionally as well as personally, we've landed each other jobs)
It's odd how times change. When we first met, it was the whole sickly 'woo-hoo, we've been together for six months. Let's go out for dinner and repeat sweet nothings to each other until the people at the next table throw up.'
Today, I woke up and blearily mumbled 'Oh, isn't it the 18th? That's our anniversary. Guess I should cancel going out to the pub with my mate tonight.'
Although it beats the year that he remembered and I forgot. He walked into the pub with 24 red roses. I - thinking quickly - said 'Oh darling, thanks so much. I've got us dinner reservations' - then snuck off to the loo with my mobile to make the call.
I got roses again today. I like roses. I don't care if they're a cliche (or that when my sister worked at a florists, they used to spend February 13th dying cheaper yellow roses red) . They're romantic. And he didn't get them for me because he has no imagination. He got them for me cos he knows I like them.
Guess I'll push the boat out and cook dinner tonight.
Who says romance is dead?
A while back I commented on the whole blogging thing - the way that maybe people now feel a need to go out and have more interesting lives because they've got to have something to write about in their blog.
But there's another disturbing trend I've noticed.
Most of my friends spend a fair amount of time online (about the same amount of time that they spend in the pub.) Quite a few of them read this site. So, when I'm sitting in the pub with them, blathering away about some random thing that's happened, they say 'I know. I read it on your site.'
This means that I have to either:
a) Stop writing about the stuff that's going on in my life
b) Get new friends who don't know about the site
c) Do more stuff and only write about the less interesting stuff here
Now that's not to say that I write about everything I do on this site.
But some things just have to be kept private...
...I want to be dirty.
Surely this is an utterly inappropriate soundtrack to the 'Charmin toilet paper' ad.
Apparently not.
A while back, I was raving about a great contributor we'd just got for Cliterati. I passed her details on to a few journalists and a top literary agent. Heard nothing until today.
This morning, I got an email through from the agent saying 'Well spotted'. They're getting in contact with her.
I'm really happy. Although I can't believe I've managed to get someone else an agent before I've got one. But it still makes me feel all warm inside.
Yesterday, Sex News Daily ran a link to the piece I wrote about The Cliterati. I'm really chuffed. It's great to see people coming on board to support the concept (if not the word, in all cases). Thanks to everyone who's posted. You all rock.
(and if you want to get sex news every day, sign up to Sex News Daily. It's free and it's cool.)
A while back I mentioned that I introduced two friends to each other, one who wanted a job and one who wanted to hire someone.
It's all worked out brilliantly. Friend a has now been hired by friend b. I'm really pleased about it because it means that she'll be moving to London and (hopefully) her boyfriend, the brilliant cartoonist, will follow soon...
Even better, both of my mates want to buy me beer to say thanks.
I really should think about the level of commission I charge...
I wrote this article a few days ago. Since then, a couple of people have mailed me asking if they can use it elsewhere, so I figured I might as well add it here. (I've added some updates to it since I wrote the original so that it's not too ridiculously lazy.)
The idea behind it came from my rather ambitious aspiration to get the word Cliterati into the Oxford English Dictionary as a positive alternative to the word 'slut'. Now 'slut' can be used as a compliment - 'I love that you're such a filthy slut' for example. But it's still tainted by negative connotations. Cliterati on the other hand, still has a chance to mean something positive.
Members of 'The Cliterati' are feisty women who love sex and aren't afraid to admit it.
Whatever they do, whether alone or with a partner (or several), they throw themselves into.
Cliterati girls don't worry about whether they look OK naked. They know that if they're there and naked, the person they're with is too busy thinking about the debauched activity going on to notice a bit of cellulite.
Forget faking it - Cliterati girls do the job themselves if their partner isn't pushing the right buttons - but they make sure their partner has a good view so that they can learn from the experience...
...and they know what they like because they've been masturbating regularly for years.
Cliterati girls set their own boundaries; who cares what everyone else is doing? If they want to try something new, they'll do it because they've decided it's a good idea, not because some magazine tells them to. ..
...but they are always prepared to push their own boundaries
...although they never force their ideas on anyone else, whether partner or friend. They accept that sexuality is a personal thing and just 'cos something might push their buttons, it doesn't mean that it will push anyone else's.
Cliterati girls aren't afraid of making the first move...
...but know how to flirt, for when they feel like being seduced.
The Cliterati always practice safe sex, to protect themselves and their partners. They've got enough self esteem to refuse sex if it's unsafe.
Cliterati girls know that there's a difference between fucking and making love...
...and know that both can have good points
Cliterati girls might sleep with loads of people. They might be virgins. They might be married and monogamous. They can be straight, lesbian, bi or whatever. But they know who they are, they love their sexual side and they don't give a damn who knows.
Surely a word that means all this would be a good addition to the dictionary?
One of the perks of running Cliterati is that I get invited to some weird and wonderful events. I'm really hoping that I'll get to go to the Erotic Awards at the Sex Maniacs' Ball. (I get three free tickets if Cliterati gets through to the finals. Although I guess I could always pay for tickets if we don't get through. But I want that award so badly because it's totally gorgeous, in a strange and kitsch kind of way.)
Anyway, I've also been invited to attend the Skin Two Expo and Rubber Ball. It looks like it should be a rather entertaining evening, to say the least. But the problem is, what to wear? This is one occasion when the generic little black dress just isn't going to cut it. And as I've potentially got two somewhat saucy events to go for, I can justify buying something new and lewd.
Start browsing around the Skin Two online shop and have fallen in love with half of the stuff on there. It reminds me of being a student when I used to wear mildly outrageous things, rather than the standard business attire I wear nowadays.
I start with the catsuits. Ever since seeing the Liberty X video for Sexy (yes, OK, I like cheesy music), I've wanted one and this catsuit looks exactly like the one in the video (would not accessorise with cowboy hat though. That's just odd.). But then, there's also this sexy little number which is utterly divine.
However, I'm really not conviced that I could get away with a rubber catsuit. It's a bit full-on for my first attempt to buy something pervy and I'm not sure that it would necessarily be the most flattering item of clothing in the world. Maybe if I was nearer 20 than 30, I'd have the guts.
I look for a little black dress (well, if it's rubber or PVC, surely that's rude enough?) Quite like this - but it's a little bit too sensible. But if this one delivers the uplift properties that the photo suggests, then my choice may be made... However, the model has a fantastic set of assets and I think mine somewhat pall in comparison so I move on.
This dress is really cute. As is this one. And they're PVC rather than rubber, which is probably way more comfortable. Or maybe a top and skirt would be more versatile? I mean, there aren't that many places a girl can wear a rubber catsuit but maybe the corset with jeans wouldn't be too full on?
I am pathetic. I'll probably wimp out and get a pair of these gorgeous gloves.
And team them with my little black dress.
Recently, I've been doing a load of networking with people from overseas. Tends to work well given my somewhat warped body clock - I naturally function best from 11am-4am (or later) so most of my mates in the UK tend to be asleep.
It's odd the impact it has. Suddenly, I find myself using words like 'kinda' and phrases like 'That is just soooo true'. Am worried that I'm turning into a Valley Girl.
Thing is, even though I'm pretty much operating on US time, I know that if I moved to the States, I'd slide into being a night person there too. There's something about working late into the night that's appealing, whereas mornings suck. And most of the brightest people I've met seem to be night people too.
Who was it that invented 9-5 as the 'normal working day' and decided anyone who didn't like this regime was wrong? May have to hunt them down and kill them. Should be easy enough to spot. They'll be the ones sleeping while the clever people are still awake.
As the founder of a sex site, I've noticed that people have very different perceptions of who I am. It's boosted my profile, without doubt. And it's also had some negative effects.
The first time I realised that people were starting to see me differently now that I was running a sex site was when we first launched. Bear in mind, I haven't changed. I've always talked about sex. It's just that now I help other people talk about it and give occasional quotes to the press.
Altered perceptions one and two:
a) I'm a lesbian
b) I'm a man
A few friends said to me when we launched Cliterati that they'd never realised I'm a lesbian.
'I'm not. I'm engaged to a bloke I love.' I said.
'So why is Cliterati for women of all sexualities then?'
Weird. Non-homophobia = lesbianism. I was amused, particularly when my mates realised how pathetic they'd been.
However, I was really offended by the couple of people who wrote stuff in newsgroups saying that I must be a man. Or rather, that everyone behind Cliterati must be male 'because pretending women have written the fantasies is clearly a cheap trick to get men to visit the site.'
Why offended? Because it implied that a) There was no need for women to have masturbation material and b) That men were a more valuable target audience than women.
There was also a misogynist hint of 'Women's sexuality doesn't matter.' It wound me up. Then I decided I had to chill out or I'd go mad.
As time's gone on, people have begun to realise more what Cliterati is about. Magazine editors who would never have accepted pitches from me now see me as a 'sexpert'. Women I barely know ask me for advice on their sex life; where can they pull, what vibrator should they get, that kind of thing. And men generally fall into one of three categories:
1) Way-hey, she must be gagging for it. Bet she goes like a train.
2) Slut. She's an outrage to women. How dare she threaten my masculinity by telling people that women like sex. (Bet she goes like a train.)
3) Cool. That's mildly amusing and interesting (Bet she goes like a train. But who cares.)
Identity. It's a weird thing. But at least I know who I am.
So I'm doing the classic Sunday afternoon thing; lazing around, eating roast dinner and watching TV. On comes Dinotopia. Suddenly, I'm five years old again. It's a fairy story. It's got dinosaurs. It's obvious how the series will progress. And it rocks!
Whoever it was that decided to combine (mostly friendly) dinosaurs with a fairy story is a genius. Prime kid fodder. Or at least, it would have been when I was a kid.
Maybe nowadays, it's pathetic twenty-somethings watching this stuff while the kids are watching 'Slasher Death Three' and playing some shoot-em-up with the added bonus of 'real exploding head action'.
I hope not. Fairy stories rule.
I was wondering whether blogging is beginning to have an effect on the people who write them. A few of my friends have got blogs (which I still agree with Hitherto should be called personal sites or diaries or something); one has a satirical blog (and is currently freaked out and chuffed because his latest site has gone viral).
Another friend has a one about dating in New York which is incredibly honest and funny.
And another one has a brilliantly written blog and so deserves to get the job in women's magazines that she wants.
My latest discovery is a blog written by a fellow sex writer (again, in the US). It was set up so she could justify her huge porn collection. She lists me as a 'Muse of masturbation' which I love. And her bukkake links are incredibly interesting (note to anyone who already knows what this is; the links are to articles about it, not video footage.)
But I digress.
If you keep a personal site/blog/whatever, you need to be doing/thinking interesting things every day so you've got stuff to report back to your readers. So do people deliberately try to live a more interesting life so that they don't seem boring on their blogs?
I've certainly met some people who, when hearing a good story, say 'That's ace. It's got to go in my blog.' And yep, I've found myself starting doing it too.
I don't know whether this is deeply sad and pathetic, or if it means that the world is going to become a better place because everyone's out there having more fun.
(As you may be able to tell, nothing interesting happened to me today.)
After being interviewed about masturbation yesterday, I ended up writing two articles on it today; one about the health and lifestyle benefits it provides and the other about the best toys to get.
Reminded me of a friend who wondered why it was that all the new wave of vibrators have faces. I'm not joking. Look carefully at the Jelly Vibes around. They have little smiley faces etched into the head. And also, why the animal references? The Rabbit, The Dolphin etc? I mean, it's pretty obvious that most toys are designed by blokes but do they really think women need some cute appeal before they can get off?
Just got great text message from a mate.
Sitting behind David Baddeil and Frank Skinner watching two men and a woman fucking on a 10 foot screen is a strange way to spend an evening.
He's at the screening of The Naughty Twins - that 'ethical' porn film.
Or at least, I hope he is.
Met up with the woman who's writing the book about sex to be interviewed for the 'masturbation' chapter. Feel somewhat strange at being quoted as a 'masturbation expert'. Surely there are many people in the world who could claim to be experts in this field? Still, I guess I'm one of the few people (porn stars excluded) who actually gets paid to do it.
We started with the health benefits. Masturbation keeps you young, happy and healthy 'cos loads of handy hormones are released at the point of orgasm. We then moved to practicalities; masturbating during sex 'cos most women don't come through penetration alone, mutual masturbation to learn about each others' bodies, that kind of thing.
After that, came home and chatted to a journalist about the best sex stuff going on in London; things like CitySexTours, Cake and The Sex Maniacs' Ball.
And now, I'm putting together our press pack for the Erotic Awards because Cliterati has been nominated in the 'Best Website' category.
Guess I'm back to my usual sex-obsessed life.
In the last year, I've started to get into Instant Messaging. There's a great client called Jabber which allows you to 'talk' to most of the rest of the clients; MSN, AOL, Yahoo! etc.
The thing that's weird with it is that it *really is* a different kind of communication. For example, my best male mate, who I've known for eight years, is traditionally a kind of private bloke. We started instant messaging at the beginning of the year (he lives miles away from me) and all of a sudden, the conversation was much more open.
It got to the stage where we'd 'virtually' arrange to go to the pub together. We'd buy beer and fags, keep the evening free and sit at our computers, drinking, smoking and chatting.
Similarly, I recently started chatting with a new mate over IM. Started talking business but realised we're both night people and now talk all manner of rubbish until the early hours. And, while it would be weird if we went to the pub with each other every day, sitting and chatting over IM has enough distance about it not to seem too 'full on.'
It's like the computer gives some kind of 'buffer zone' between the people chatting so it's safer to be yourself. Also, there are no non-verbal clues, so you have to spell out what you really mean.
On the one hand, it feels like a deeply sad thing to be doing. But on the other, it's good to talk.
One of the people at the Cliterati party was looking for a new member of staff. A mate of mine at the party was looking for a job. They met, got on brilliantly and my mate was asked to send in her CV. I've had mails from both of them since, each enthusing about the other so looks like it could be good for both of them. Am really hoping that my mate gets the job 'cos it would mean she could move to London, which she's wanted to do for a while.
Have also picked up a new advertiser on Cliterati, been interviewed with Cosmopolitan and got meetings pending with lots of exciting people. Party was definitely worth the stress.
On another note, am currently reading Pandora by Jilly Cooper. I got into her stuff when I was about 11 and figured it would be a good read. It is - but god, some of the dialogue is bad. One of the characters uses Valley speak (I think). Sample quote:
"How does Rapahel like come into it, Dad?"
Surely this is wrong? Shouldn't it be either "How does Rapahel, like, come into it, Dad?" or "Like, how does Raphael come into it, Dad?"
Now I'm not knocking Jilly. She's a way more succesful novelist than I'm ever likely to be. But she should stick to writing posh people dialogue rather than trying to introduce embarrassing lines like this.
This made me laugh. A lot. Having tried to put into words the idiocy that is modern-day viral marketing, he does it way better than I've ever managed. Git.
Even worse, the rest of the stuff at Alljustwords is ace. Am insanely jealous.
And he's 6 years younger than me. Swine.
