Wednesday, August 30, 2006
BUKKAKE IMPLODE
Right, here's the score, this blog used to be all about 'live' spur of the moment posts, but has become a sluggish torpid mess - the amount of half-written crap 'saved as draft' buggers belief. For instance, I had a wicked thing comparing the Lily Allen album to Michel Houellebecq's "The Possibility of An Island" in which, in my mind at least, I successfully rubbished both as the most pants cultural products of the 21st century. But I can't be bothered to finish it. An over the top reappraisal of Bikini Kill descended into a sideswipe at Japanese girl punk bands, who I labelled traitors to the Riot Grrrl cause, but unfortunately this line of argument became so convoluted that I can't focus beyond the 48th paragraph now - just buy all Bikini Kill's albums and you'll get what I mean.
There was also a brutally unflinching account of a woman I met earlier this year, who has morphed from a moderately insane, vodka-fuelled 'loon' into a fully-fledged, hardcore born again Christian, and is currently bombarding me with group emails which we're all meant to forward on to 10 people, in order to defeat Lucifer. The most recent one had a story about a little homeless guttersnipe who was told to knock at a door and say the words "John 3:16", resulting in him being given a room and a bath. Unfortunately, I thought it'd be a wheeze to email her and all the recipients on the email list a warning about teenage burglar gangs using the old "John 3:16" routine, plus the announcement that I'd sold my soul to the Devil when I was 6, in exchange for a Fisher Price 'electric guitar'. This hasn't gone down well at all, and I'm now slightly worried for my own safety. Coincidentally, my mother has suddenly had the retina-scorching revelation that God might not actually exist, and appears to be losing her faith. Well, it's a pity she couldn't have done all this in 1976 and spared me a pile of misery.
Which leads on to another unfinished post, about the interiors of Russian churches, but I just can't be bothered with that either.
So I think I'll gatecrash this online 'porn symposium' thing. Although my contributions may be about as welcome as a cunt at a christening, I'm planning on kicking cigarettes again soon, so it'll keep my hands busy. In fact, I think I'll do 7 or 8 contributions. I'm just going to flood this blog with as much porn filth as I can and see what happens.
There was also a brutally unflinching account of a woman I met earlier this year, who has morphed from a moderately insane, vodka-fuelled 'loon' into a fully-fledged, hardcore born again Christian, and is currently bombarding me with group emails which we're all meant to forward on to 10 people, in order to defeat Lucifer. The most recent one had a story about a little homeless guttersnipe who was told to knock at a door and say the words "John 3:16", resulting in him being given a room and a bath. Unfortunately, I thought it'd be a wheeze to email her and all the recipients on the email list a warning about teenage burglar gangs using the old "John 3:16" routine, plus the announcement that I'd sold my soul to the Devil when I was 6, in exchange for a Fisher Price 'electric guitar'. This hasn't gone down well at all, and I'm now slightly worried for my own safety. Coincidentally, my mother has suddenly had the retina-scorching revelation that God might not actually exist, and appears to be losing her faith. Well, it's a pity she couldn't have done all this in 1976 and spared me a pile of misery.
Which leads on to another unfinished post, about the interiors of Russian churches, but I just can't be bothered with that either.
So I think I'll gatecrash this online 'porn symposium' thing. Although my contributions may be about as welcome as a cunt at a christening, I'm planning on kicking cigarettes again soon, so it'll keep my hands busy. In fact, I think I'll do 7 or 8 contributions. I'm just going to flood this blog with as much porn filth as I can and see what happens.
# posted by Martin : 12:01 PM <%=MakeComment("115693682868863832","beyond the implode:BUKKAKE IMPLODE","http://seagullscreamingkillherkillher.blogspot.com/2006/08/bukkake-implode.html")%>
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is writing for the Erotic Review better or worse than writing for Socialist Worker? That's what I want to know...
well as one of my ambitions is to one day win the 'bad sex award' (preferably when all manky and philip roth-esque) i would gladly do so
John, hasn't there been enough grief in these paltry comments boxes? OK, let me clarify this. I believe that SW has these points in its favour 1) clenched fist logo and stencil writing is pretty cool, if you forget Tom Robinson once co-opted it for an album sleeve 2) People attracted to the SWP may do so out of good intentions. They tend to leave when they find themselves being sexually harrassed by ageing perverts / threatened with expulsion unless they ramp up paper sales / told that there's no working class people in the BNP, "just council estate scum", etc
Whereas, with the ER, there's no excuse for living in a world where people called Sir Michael take in Russian prostitutes and train them to revel in the sublime delights of subservience while caressing their 'rosebuds'. Have you seen the bloke who used to edit ER? He looks like John Peel with less hair and teeth.
So, SW is a slight step above, but don't get complacent. Incidentally Owen, I hope they paid you for that piece, cos last time I saw the SWP in Camden they were getting blitzed in the Dublin Castle with some of their 'comrades' from Workers (yeah right..) Power...and they weren't limiting themselves to Fosters, get me?
Whereas, with the ER, there's no excuse for living in a world where people called Sir Michael take in Russian prostitutes and train them to revel in the sublime delights of subservience while caressing their 'rosebuds'. Have you seen the bloke who used to edit ER? He looks like John Peel with less hair and teeth.
So, SW is a slight step above, but don't get complacent. Incidentally Owen, I hope they paid you for that piece, cos last time I saw the SWP in Camden they were getting blitzed in the Dublin Castle with some of their 'comrades' from Workers (yeah right..) Power...and they weren't limiting themselves to Fosters, get me?
Hey, I was only asking! ;-)
I've (to my credit, I think) never read ER and the only editor I know is that plummy blonde woman who is always on the telly.
But yes, you are right. :-)
I've (to my credit, I think) never read ER and the only editor I know is that plummy blonde woman who is always on the telly.
But yes, you are right. :-)
I'm sorry, I can't let that 'with the family' image lie..... I see one of those seventies boardgame box families... the whole clan gathered round - awkward tank-top clad teen points dementedly at comments box, whilst Dad holds his head in mock exasperation at the links bar. Mum looks on approvingly over Dad's shoulder, one hand placed lovingly on his arm in an attempt to keep her apron out of shot.
'Beyond The Implode' - suitable for 3 or more players. Small parts - may cause choking..... oh bugger, this post started on smut and it's gonna stay that way....
'Beyond The Implode' - suitable for 3 or more players. Small parts - may cause choking..... oh bugger, this post started on smut and it's gonna stay that way....
"...where people called Sir Michael take in Russian prostitutes and train them to revel in the sublime delights of subservience while caressing their 'rosebuds'..."
Admit it, John, you're an ER contributor! And if you're not, then you bloody well should be.
C'mon...where all this porn, then? I could hear you lot shouting all the way down the corridor...
Admit it, John, you're an ER contributor! And if you're not, then you bloody well should be.
C'mon...where all this porn, then? I could hear you lot shouting all the way down the corridor...
You're brilliant, but you don't have an RSS feed as far as I can see. Please add one. It's easy with Blogger.
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