Prawnography - includes such warnings as 'I promise that I will not let caviar or any other soft roe gain access to any of the materials on this site.'
Yesterday was one of those back-to-back meeting kind of days that usually leave me utterly exhausted but this time, it was fantastic fun. Started the day by interviewing Mil Millington, author of 'Things my girlfriend and I have argued about'. I've read his stuff for ages, starting with the site (and following the whole 'Daily Mail printing stuff without permission' saga) then reading the Guardian column and then on to the book. His writing always makes me laugh out loud so I was really hoping he wouldn't be a wanker in person.
I got a good feeling about the interview when I started by asking if he minded if I smoked and his face lit up as he pulled out a packet of cigarettes. My gut instinct was right. We chain-smoked our way through an hour or so of blathering, covering everything from technology to arguing during sex. He told me about his latest book, which sounds fab - all about love and infidelity - but spent more time just chatting, leaping around from topic to topic and discovering we've got several people in common (nope, I've never shagged his girlfriend - it's just that the geek and media worlds are both pretty small).
It was one of those interviews that I didn't want to end - could have quite happily spent the entire day blackening my lungs and talking shite with him. He looks astonishingly youthful too; whether that's down to the fact that he doesn't drink or is because arguing is good for you, I'm not too sure.
Then had a meeting with someone we're considering as a salesperson for the Lovers' Guide. She rapidly became a new friend and before long we were talking about the sex toys she should take on her honeymoon that wouldn't get picked up by customs.
Finished the day with a meeting with a TV producer. She lives in a fab flat that's very Melrose Place - big group of mates who all live in the same block with various semi-incestuous things going on. If I ever moved, it's the kind of place I'd like to live.
Today was another similar day - many meetings, all of which were fun. Went to a Speed Networking do which sounds utterly media-wanky but was surprisingly fun. We had to do introductions to the group at the start. Went something like this:
'I'm Alex and I'm a lawyer.'
'I'm Anne and I work for a PR company'
'I'm Julie and I work as an IT consultant.'
'I'm Emily and I run a sex website and write about shagging.'
As a result, had an evening of people asking me for sex tips, which was fun. May have landed a gig doing training courses on general shagging stuff, which could be fun - if a slightly odd way to earn a living.
Then again, I should be used to that by now.
If I haven't mentioned it before, I love my job.
Am currently in total agony. A mate of mine asked me a while back if I'd join her netball team as they were short on players. I was drunk. I said yes. And promptly forgot all about it.
A couple of weeks later, she turned up at the house with beer. After we'd drunk it, she asked me again if I was up for joining the team. Again, I said yes...
And so it was that yesterday I found myself running around a school netball pitch narrowly avoiding certain death. OK, I'm exaggerating slightly but God, I'm sure netball never used to be as fast as this when I was a kid. I seem to remember games having scores like 3/2, not 28/20 as it was in this game (the team I was on won which was cool). Even worse, I was playing a wing position which basically entails much running. I used to play in goal as a kid as it entailed being tall and putting the ball in the goal but very little running at all; much more my kind of thing.
I'd forgotten what exercise is like. I am not a sporty person. I was the classic 'last to be picked at games' kind of kid and my loathing of sport never went away. Thus, I had more exercise in 45 minutes last night than I've probably had in the last 5 years (I did join a gym for a while about 5 years ago but did the classic 'go loads in the first month then carry on paying for ages because I meant to go but never quite got round to it' thing)
Do feel vaguely virtuous though - and had enough fun to want to go back next week. Surprisingly, I wasn't so sucky that they banned me from ever playing again. Then again, they are short on team members...
After last night's game, I got back to my much preferred lifestyle; namely, drinking and smoking to excess. A mate of mine has just landed an ace job. She's been looking for a new job for over 2 years so when she found out she'd got this one, she summoned me round immediately to drink champagne with her. Obviously, I couldn't refuse, so had lovely girlie night; much inane blathering and fab food - a top way to spend an evening.
Tonight, I'm on LBC again, talking about sex toys, then have a stack of work to do. Interviewing Mil Millington tomorrow, then have a meeting with a TV producer in the evening (still haven't heard back from Endemol about the Sky pundit stuff but really hope I get it - be nice to be on a channel that at least some of my friends can watch.) I'm also writing a load of sex position guides - easy work but am plunged back into trying to find different ways to make all the various positions sound good without overusing the words clitoris and G-spot. Still, there are far worse ways to earn a living.
The Dirty Whore Diary; a brilliant sex blog from a woman who writes about her sex life in graphic detail.
Could be if this safer sex campaign
is anything to go by.
I seem to be fitting more life into my time these days, along with what's getting to be a scary level of work (not that I'm complaining - it's ace).
Last Saturday, I gave my speech (.txt format) at the Sexual Freedom Coalition event.
The inspirational Ana Lopes was there. She set up the International Union of Sex Workers, now an official branch of the GMB (British General Union) and the third biggest union in the UK. It's a trade union for sex workers, as the name suggests, and aims to establish labour rights for those who work in the sex industry and improve working conditions to stamp out the high levels of abuse, exploitation and violence in the sex industry.
There was also a great speech from Helen Knox who runs Sexual health site Sexplained. She's currently looking for men and women to upload pics of their bits to Willy Worries and Fem Gen to help people realise that their genitalia is normal; a worthy cause. There are already some great - and utterly scary - pictures of STIs in situ which will hopefully help scare people into practicing safer sex.
My speech was scheduled immediately after the fab and very sexy Immodesty Blaize - a brilliant burlesque striptease artiste and extremely hard act to follow. I decided getting my 32A's out would be liable to disappoint so stuck to my script. It seemed to go down well anyway; we've had several people express interest in getting involved since the event and I've got someone who wants to do work experience with Cliterati, which will be dead handy.
Monday was my screen test for Endemol. I was bricking it after my previous moving around like a loon TV thing. Seemed to go reasonably well though; they said I was 'a natural'. Then again, it could be that they were just being nice cos I've been helping them out on research. Am currently looking for people who are into pony-play, robot sex, watersports, infantilism, crush fetishes, household appliances, fruit and veg, bestiality, animal transformation, modern primitivism and shagging dwarves. Sometimes I wonder about my job...
Spent most of Tuesday in Lovers' Guide meetings, which is always fun, then went on to check out a venue for Cliterati's third birthday party. I want to go bigger and better this year, and the venue certainly seems to fit. Am intrigued by the idea of getting Portia Surreal along to DJ and am also considering Jo King from the London School of Striptease to give a training session to guests. Then again, could just end up being the usual alcohol fuelled carnage.
On which note, Wednesday was Cake. I figured that dressing up was in order when I utterly fell in love with this outfit. It's the smallest item of clothing I've ever had the guts to go out in but, because it was Cake, it felt entirely safe to wear it. Did wear a long coat in the cab on the way over though...
Met up with a load of the regular sexpert crowd; Kate from Truffle and her business partner Natalie, whose job is predicting underwear trends; Melissa from Amanda Kiss (the people who sent me some Japanese sex toys to test that rival the Jessica Rabbit - I'll be recommending them to the world as soon as they're available over here), Susanne from Fuck the Shop who sent me a Vibrator Pen (which I really must take to a business meeting at some stage) and the usual Cake crowd.
Went along to see the Barefoot Doctor running an event about improving your love life on Thursday and met a lovely woman who went into maternal mode when I developed a stinking migraine; bought me water, escorted me home in a cab and refused to take any money. Was really nice to know there are still people ot there who will help a stranger without any vested interest.
Landed a commission to write a load of sex position guides on Friday, which should be fun. However, does mean I've got a busy week ahead; three newsletters to write, one article for the Star, first draft summary for the position guides, loads of sex toy reviews, new site copy for the Lovers' Guide and the usual subbing on Cliterati. I love my job.
...and that babes have bi brains
(this and the two links below from Sex News Daily)
It's been a good week for getting free toys. The latest one to arrive is the Audi-oh - a vibrator that's powered by sound. Theory is that the louder the environment, the more it'll buzz. It can also plug directly into CD players, MP3 Players and car stereos (apparently - though surely the latter would be a tad dangerous?)
So, last night, was telling a girlie mate about it and we got it out (no, it wasn't *that* kind of an evening - I hadn't tested it 'in situ' and it didn't turn into one of those soft-focus lesbian romps. We were trying out the vibrations on the palm of our hand.) It seems startlingly sensitive; laughing makes it go ballistic. Should be entertaining trying it out.
Girlie mate had turned up out of the blue to ask me if I wanted to join the netball team she's in. I am *not* a sporty person; was the classic 'last to be picked at games' (well, almost) and still have to hold back the shudders of revulsion at memories of school sports. However, I was OK at netball (by comparison to my utter ineptitude at other games, at least) and so ended up saying yes. Then again, she had cunningly brough beer with her to weaken my defences.
Had a journalist from the French magazine 'Biba' interview me yesterday about the 'new hedonism' in Britain. It was fun but, yet again, the whole 'sex as fashionable' thing confused me. Surely it's a classic?
Was also dead excited to get a mail asking if I minded one of my articles being syndicated to a magazine in Singapore. Still naive enough to get all squeally about things like that.
Have got another couple of TV screen tests lined up. Am thus focussing on trying not to gesticulate or move my head so that I don't look stupidly manic. Trying to utterly change mannerisms is not easy. Never realised before how hyper I look.
And tomorrow, I'm speaking at the Sexual Freedom Coalition's Let's Start the Real Sexual Revolution! event, on behalf of FREE ('Federation Representing Erotic Education' - the network I set up for ethical companies in the sex industry) Looks like it should be an interesting day.
The Late Tube Petition - Letting London Roll Home Later...
Thanks to Stuart for sending me this link to Nerve's Bad Erotica Contest. It contains some truly dreadful lines like:
"Their tongues intertwined like snakes slithering in a dance of forbidden love."
"His instrument of devastation was so hard and rigid, it made her flush with the need to consume it. It was as if his cock glowed with ethereal goodness."
"He pushed his sanguine monster of mating back in to his torn khakis... his mission complete and desire sated"
and
"His climax came quickly and furiously, his sex sauce sliding down her throat like slimy alien invaders, guiding down her highly sexual esophagus to her creamy stomach."
It's truly brilliant in its badness. Then again, I can't really mock, having once written the dreadful line:
"How do you like your coffee?"
"Afterwards."
In my defence, having used that very line on someone when I was deeply pissed, it did work.
But it's still God-awful dialogue.
I've been having a great time recently. Am getting my arse in gear a lot more and actually pitching people which - thank God, and fingers crossed it continues - is resulting in more work.
Have got a piece in the Daily Star tomorrow based on the most common questions people ask about sex (taken from the stuff we've been sent at Cliterati over the last three years and the texts that were sent to my show on Friendly TV, more of which later.) Got another two pieces from the Star as well - one written, another commissioned, as well as a couple of pieces for More! magazine ('Six Explosive Sex tips' in the current issue and interviewing women who'd had collagen injections into the G-spot for a future issue. Just say no, kids. To be fair, the women who'd had it done were enthusing about it but there is no way I'd even remotely consider an injection there - assuming the surgeon was good enough to be able to find any woman's G-spot anyway.)
When it comes to Friendly TV, my show is now defunct, giving me the shortest lived TV career ever. However, I was back in the studio again at the end of last week for another company, making QVC-style ads for the Jessica Rabbit. Apparently, I seemed nervous (which meant they plied me with champagne - never a bad thing at 10.30am) and, judging from the playback, I looked like a barking loon, gesticulating far too much and darting my head around madly. Mannerisms that are just a bit too hyper in real life come across as utterly ridiculous on TV. Am hoping that the edit is forgiving. Ah well, you live and learn. When it comes to me and TV, it's a case of 'don't give up the day job.' - although I am considering going on one of those media training course things to learn how not to look like a twat on TV.
In other news, there seems to have been a bit of a run on free sex toys and general nice saucy things for me recently. Got some gorgeous knickers, ergonomically designed toys and an erotic game and jigsaw to review from Truffle.me.uk, a wireless remote controlled (but for some reason teddy-bear shaped) toy from Naughtyru plus the most amazing sex toys ever from Amanda Kiss. They're Japanese and make the Jessica Rabbit look like an amateur.
Needless to say, I was thus surprised to read Em and Lo in The Guardian this weekend saying "One could, and many do, extrapolate that we spend our days...test-driving free samples of the latest vibrators." and citing this as a myth.
It *is* part of the whole sex writer thing; after all, how else do you know what to recommend?
As I've said before, wanking for a living; it's a hard job but someone's got to do it.