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The booker award

I was recently nominated for The Booker Award by the delightful Maureen, author at Magnolia Beginnings, and although I never accept blogger award nominations – my ego being already over-inflated – this one had me thinking about all the wonderful books I have read over the years.

Here is a list of my top, all-time five:

  1. Catch 22 by Joseph Heller
  2. The Dangerous and Painful Masturbation Magic Pop-Up Book by Paul Bollokov
  3. Gormenghast (trilogy) by Mervyn Peake
  4. The Mechanism of Mind by Edward de Bono
  5. Narziss and Goldmund by Hermann Hesse
  6. 101 Recipes for Kittens by B B Q Feline
  7. Fermat’a Last Theorem by Simon Singh
  8. Catcher in the Rye J D Salinger
  9. Mark Twain by Huckleberry Finn
  10. Trainspotting by Irvin Welsh
  11. How to lose Friends and Irritate people byDale Carnage
  12. The Fractal Geometry of Nature by Benoit B Mandelbrot
  13. The Yoga Guide to Self-Felation by Ike A N Bendova
  14. Watchmen by Alan Moore
  15. How to Count to Five by Arthur Unknown

I’ve not followed Maureen for long but her blog is a must-follow and full of sweet, smart, well written observations and musings, and her avatar picture makes for fantastic masturbation material. Thank you Maureen.


The seven deadly things

I said long ago, that I would no longer be accepting blogger awards, and it wasn’t because I thought that they were a pointless (but very imaginative and caring) form of chain letter, but because  being nominated gives me such an almighty erection that,  I would fear for my mortal safety, were I to be nominated more than once in quick succession. It is only thanks to the swift action, and early arrival, of my cleaning lady, Mrs Go’onanonanonagan (87 but with the tits of an 85 year old), that I was not later discovered drowned in a pool of my own semen, after having received three such awards within the space of a single afternoon.

As I lay here in my hospital bed, recovering from an ego overdose, I think it only fair that I respond to Rhonda from Help Me Rhonda (The Seven Things About Me Award), Maureen from Magnolia Beginnings (The Five Best Books Ever Award) and Mad Gay Man from Diary of a Mad Gay Man (Bitches Love Awards Award), for their flattering and honouring nominations.

As per my doctor’s orders, I will respond to each nomination with a post of its own and start with Rhonda’a ‘Seven Things About Me Award’.

The rules of this award require me to first thank the nominee, then to reveal seven embarrassing facts about myself and finally to nominate 463 other bloggers.

Thank you Rhonda:

Rhonda’s blog, Help Me Rhonda, is a witty, sweet and charming, daily dose of life-affirming wisdom and side-splitting humour, beautifully taken photographs and cleverly observed anecdotes. If you have not yet discovered her, then do so now, or I will have you cruelly murdered.

Seven things:

  1. I could read by the age of three. I kinda taught myself but was encouraged and helped by my family, who seemed to think I was possibly some kind of prodigy. Sadly it was my only trick, I simply had to learn “how to do words”, and after that I was, academically, something of a disappointment.
  2. I know 30 different ways to kiss – 31, if you include ‘on the mouth.’
  3. I think its wrong to use poetry or art to get into a woman’s head. It’s much better to use them to get into a woman’s pants.
  4. I  once was a cartoonist, for a chain of pot-selling coffee shops in the Netherlands. I used to get paid in pot and only got the job because the previous incumbent had been tied to his push-bike, by the Dutch Mafia , and thrown into a canal. A very Dutch way to die, their bikes are very heavy.
  5. I had a girlfriend who ran off with my best friend, and I still miss him.
  6. I have a notepad and pen in every room in the house. It’s because I never know when I will have an idea. I even have a notepad in the lavatory. Once, after taking a large amount of magic mushrooms, I discovered the secret to life there and, obviously, wrote it down. The following morning, upon realising  that I had run out of toilet paper, I had to use it to wipe my arse. Well? What would you have done?
  7. I have no idea what the pre-wash function on my washing machine is for.

Nominations:

Normally I claim to be unable to nominate anyone because I never bother reading any of the shite you all write. This is not actually true. I do, I avidly, read every word of all your blogs. The reason I can’t nominate anyone is because I am simply too lazy and way too busy masturbating over your gravatar images.


Soul Destruction

I don’t normally do book reviews but ‘In Her Own Words’ (part of the ‘Soul Destruction’ series) by Ruth Jacobs is such a moving and honest account of the sex industry that I simply had to give it a shout out.

Ruth studied prostitution in the late 1990s, which sparked her interest in the subject. Her novels dispel the ‘happy hooker’ myth and expose the dark world and the harsh reality of life as a call girl. She draws on her research and the women she interviewed for inspiration. She also has first-hand experience of some of the topics she writes about, such as post traumatic stress disorder and drug and alcohol addiction.)

Ruth explains what her work is about far better than I could:

In Her Own Words… Interview with a London Call Girl is the unedited transcript from an interview I undertook with a London call girl in the late 1990s. It is an enlightening and moving, first-hand account of a woman’s life affected by prostitution, exposing the emotional, psychological and social effects of living that existence. All royalties from this publication are being donated to Beyond the Streets, a charity helping women exit prostitution.

This charity publication and the cause is very close to my heart, partly because the woman I
interviewed was a very dear friend, a wonderful person, and who had a terribly sad life, with
childhood sexual abuse and then being pimped on the streets from the age of fifteen. As
she is no longer alive, this is the reason I wanted the royalties to be donated to Beyond the
Streets.

The stigma a significant section of society has against prostitutes and prostitution is mainly
due to lack of knowledge. 75% of prostitutes have been sexually and physically abused as
children, 70% have experienced multiple rapes, and 67% meet the criteria for posttraumatic
stress disorder, which is a major cause of suicide.

With this publication, I hope to show the reality of life for women working in prostitution,
the effects it has on them psychologically, emotionally, in relationships with men, how they
are viewed and how they feel they are viewed by society as outsiders and outcasts, often
judged and looked down on. Seeing them as real people, with real feelings, and acquiring
an insight into their tormented childhoods and painful present lives, allows people who are
not in that life to gain an informed perception of who these women really are, and with that
knowledge, are less likely to judge but instead develop compassion.

Extract from “In Her Own Words… Interview with a London Call Girl”

From a young age, from like being fifteen, I’ve been hardened to it. The first…when I first
started doing it, I cried my eyes out every day and just scrubbed myself in bleach and…I felt
like I’d been raped. It was just…it really screwed my mind up. And there’s this feeling when
you get…when you’re with a client and it’s like sometimes when you feel like…you grab your
fists and it’s like, “Get off me! Get off me!” And it’s like…you know you can’t push them off
you, right? Because you know you’re getting paid for it. So it’s basically allowing yourself to.
be raped, right? But you can’t even fight them back or say, “Get off me.” It’s like…and you

cry while it’s happening and all this shit, and you go home and you cry yourself to sleep after
all that shit, and it happens to you a lot of times until eventually that feeling goes away,
and that feeling…you don’t get that feeling anymore. It gets less and less and less. And you
become hardened in your like…your heart and your soul to it, and this is when you get the
hatred for the men.

To download your copy of In Her Own Words… Interview with a London Call Girl for 77p
visit this Amazon page in the UK or this one in the US for $1.20

To find out more about Ruth Jacobs and her Soul Destruction series of novels visit
www.soul-destruction.com


A total dick

I am honoured and delighted to have nominated myself for ‘The Total Dick Award’

The rules are simple:

  • Thank the nominee and tell them why you think they deserve The Total Dick Award.
  • Share ten things about yourself that demonstrate what a Total Dick you are.
  • Nominate other Total Dicks.

Thank you Kyle:

You deserve this award as much as I do, and I could never have done it without you. It is your ridiculously over-inflated ego, that has, so justifiably, earned you this award. The way that, when you make love to a beautiful woman, you close your eyes and imagine you are masturbating, the way you award yourself awards, it all adds up to make you the perfect recipient of The Total Dick Award. Congratulations!

Ten things:

  • I get a semi every time I get a new follower. Once I got four new followers in five minutes and almost came.
  • I once had sext with two women at once, without either of them knowing about the other. I’d given them both the same nicknames so I could cut and paste a lot of what I wrote. We all came at the same time and it was pretty cool, but its not something I guess I should be proud of.
  • When I was in the army, I went out with this barmaid called Pamela. She had one leg longer than the other (although it might have been that one leg was shorter, I can’t remember). It didn’t bother me one bit, but all my mates laughed and took the piss and I finished with her because I was too weak to take the peer pressure – I feel bad about that, to this day.
  • I was an internet sex slave. For two weeks. To this incredible woman from Florida or Virginia or one of those states. She had me write her sado-masochistic tales like this one and this one and one about castration that was too frightful to ever publish. She also had me take photo’s of me doing painful and humiliating  things to myself. It was all a lot of fun but two weeks in I got bored, met someone nice and decided to end it.
  • I’m not actually ashamed of that last one. I am, however, ashamed that I am not ashamed of it.
  • I once wrote some erotica for a fellow blogger to post on her blog as her own, and she repaid me by sending me some really naughty pictures of herself. Not ashamed of that one either, if I’m honest.
  • I once sucked someone’s cock for a gram of coke.
  • I volunteer at a homeless shelter for one week a year. People say that its because I’m a nice guy but that’s bullshit. The fact is that there are three times as many female volunteers as there are male volunteers. I might enjoy volunteering and I might think it worthwhile, but I do it primarily to meet pussy.
  • I once accepted money to pretend to be someone’s boyfriend.
  • When I was about 17, I let this girl bully me. I didn’t have to, but she was hot and being beaten up by her turned me on.
  • I am a terrible liar, and two of these things are not true.

Nominations:

I’m not going to nominate anyone for this award, I don’t think any of you deserve it. If anyone wants to nominate themselves though, I’d love to see that…


Make friends with your demons

I don’t do the blogger award thing as a rule, I worry about the exponential growth inherent in such systems. Do the math; if every blogger given an award nominates seven other bloggers, and they each nominate seven more and so on, then within two weeks, every WordPress blogger on the planet will have received that award (there are over 72 million WordPress blogs). Within a month, we will have all been nominated over a 100 times.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love being nominated, I love having my ego stroked, (although I prefer to have it sucked,) and I get so flattered that I have to jack off every time I get a nomination, and that’s the problem, too many awards and my ego would just collapse under the weight of all that love and I would most likely be discovered dead by my cleaning lady, having drowned in my own semen. Not a pleasant clean up job for anybody, as I’m sure you can imagine.

However, today I am making an exception and not because I think I am worthy of the award but because of who has nominated me: the wonderful Gypsy, author of the outstanding Through my eyes: Adventures in Borderline land. Her blog truly is outstanding, unlike my trivial and masturbatory attempts at entertaining you, her blog is a powerful, poignant, heartfelt and heart-warming journal of her struggles and victories over Borderline Personality Disorder.

Gypsy nominated me for the “Outstanding Blogger Award”, the rules are as follows:

  • Thank the nominee.
  • Share something important about yourself.
  • Nominate other bloggers.

Thank you Gypsy: your blog is just awesome. It is straightforward and honest and bursting with emotion and you have helped far more people than you realise by documenting your life so bravely. Thank you.

Thank you also for encouraging me to write this next bit. Its about something I’ve never written about before (well not publicly) and if it weren’t for you, I may never have.

Something important: I was an addict. For years, I threw a large chunk of my adult life down a big dark hole. I have never written about it before because I still carry a lot of shame for having wasted so much of a life who’s every second should be savoured and not squandered.

Addiction nearly killed me, it turned me into a liar and a thief and a cheat and a rascal. I lied and stole mostly to and from the people that loved me the most, well, who tried to love me anyway, its not easy to love someone when they hate themselves. In the end I drove everyone away with my snivelling self-pity and misdirected anger.

Every day I would wake and promise myself, ‘no more’ and every day, before noon, I would have failed. The failure sapped me dry Every day, month after month, year after year, failure after failure. I lost all faith in myself. My soul nearly disappeared, I nearly extinguished my own humanity. In the end there was just this tiny, flickering spark of it left, cowering deep inside me.

One day, I decided to face my demons head on. It was that or die. seriously. I tossed a coin: heads, I go seek help (again), tails, I end it all. You can guess how it landed, and I re-entered that mill of detox and rehab and therapy and those fucking rooms. Somehow it clicked, and is still clicking five years down the road. Maybe it was because I had driven everyone away and had to do it on my own. Maybe it was because I knew the alternative was to die, but actually I think it was because I discovered the true nature of my demons. They were not the fearsome devils of my nightmares. They were not powerful angry, ugly monsters. They were me, me when I was young, and hurt and sad, the neglected me and the scared me. They were little me and they hurt. They didn’t need battling, they needed  loving and accepting.

I didn’t really change, and I’m still a complete shit-bag – just ask any woman I’ve ever dated – I just learned to accept me and enjoy being me, love me even. Life hasn’t really changed that much either, there is still as much sadness and pain as there ever was, but there is laughter and love too.

Nominate other bloggers: I’m not going to nominate anyone else for this award, and its not because I don’t want to, its just that I don’t know who to nominate, because I never actually bother to read any of the shit you all write.

Thanks again to Gypsy for the honour. Everyone please visit, like, comment and follow her wonderful blog, or I will have you brutally killed and your corpse fed to your pets in front of your children.