Sex fantasies and all… (#humor #sex #love & #sarcasm)

I don’t believe in love at first sight. I’m so easily distracted when I see hot guys, that chances are if I did fall in love instantly, I’d run him over with a truck. And if we are to base this on trial and error from the past, my history shows that every man I did fall in love with at first sight usually ended up being disposed of rather quickly and those I said I’d never date in a million years ended up in my bedroom. There are, of course, exceptions to the rule. I once saw a guy walking into a nightclub and decided I wanted him. It’s not so weird though given the week before I had written a long list of everything I wanted in a man (most notably that he should be a filmmaker with dark curly hair and speak fluent French) and this man fit the bill. Not that I could have known that when he walked in the door, but maybe I was psychic? Or maybe I created him if it is true we create our reality? However, the time I said I wanted to marry an American millionaire I ended up with two, none of whom I married. I simultaneously asked for my soul mate and the problem was probably that my soul mate wasn’t a millionaire. Yet. I can only hope he’s become one since.

Sometimes when I feel bad about my non-existent love life and my past escapades I retort to reading Sex and the City quotes, because if I fucked up at least I will be sure to remember Samantha fucked a lot more. That could, potentially, be seen as a depressing fact as well though, in which case I have to bring out chocolate to see things in another light. Chocolate, however, is not well-known for its sense of humor. For that you might need to grab a bottle of wine.

If the wine makes you sentimental, instead of giggly, it will remind you that the reason you dated fucked up men is because you were fucked up. This means you are suddenly overcome by an urge to work on your beloved business as a form of escapism, as it will remind you that there is passion in your life, even if it doesn’t come with an orgasm. If you really can’t get your head out of the gutter you pick up a cheap novel about ever lasting romance and convince yourself that if the fifty year old heroine who suffers from a lot more psychological issues than you manages to find some hot dude who swears his undying love to her, so will you. You try to disregard the fact that the book was written by a woman and has more illogical flaws to the storyline than any writer/director could possibly ignore. Especially the fact that the man in the story is hot, nice and faithful.

Then, suddenly, it dawns on you that you’ve become a sarcastic bitch to cover up the fact that your favorite feel good movie is “We Bought a Zoo” because Matt Damon as a single dad is utterly irresistible and your dream of having the perfect family is completely illogical when looking at your past endeavors in the dating field. So you decide to write a new list of what you want in a man that starts with “He gets me and he loves me…” and ends with “P.S. he can also dance and he does have a six-pack” “P.P.S. He’s not an addict, criminal, psychologically unstable, manic depressive, prone to snoring, bad in bed, living in a different country or with his mother permanently, fucking anyone I know, unfaithful, or prone to any other potentially damaging thing.”

It sucks having a gooey heart, protected by walls of sarcasm three stories high, doesn’t it? It sucks even more trying to let go of the walls and be like “Here I am. Matt Damon fantasies and all.”

Writing down all my dirty fantasies. I mean I’m sure Matt Damon had to take care of a lot of mud in that zoo….

That rings true to my butt!!!

Some people say this blog is outrageously sexy, borderline dirty…not sure what’s wrong with them, clearly they can’t see beneath the clothes and gather the true naked purity. Seriously.

So what was I pondering about writing about today? Nakedness? Clearly. Big butts? Absolutely.

Actually, I was planning to write about sex drive. Or well, not really. More like chemistry (I once turned something on fire in high school. Never do chemistry with a blonde. In fact, we were two blondes. Never do chemistry with two blondes.). My intention was not to blog about chemistry that involves rocket fuel and other explosives though (never did keep my attention), but chemistry between men and women. That always got my attention. Or more like it: got me distracted from everything else.

I was just chatting to a friend and we were discussing…men. So I was telling her that as soon as there’s chemistry I go for that. I fall for that. It’s like my wants are totally mis-wired. I don’t focus on whether the guy shows up for me, or not. It’s just the connection, the ability to talk, laugh… – our personalities match in such a way that I have a chemical reaction. Well I have chemical reactions to blooming chocolate too and I have no intention of marrying a chocolate bar.

And then there’s the next part of the chemical reaction – how my brain reacts. Now this is a total misfire because my brain decides it’s time to impress. It doesn’t understand the concept of just being. It has to “be” what he wants. But I wanna be loved for being me, not for doing a blowjob upside down whilst also managing to paint like Da Vinci with my feet. Simultaneously. Painting an orgasm.

And it doesn’t end there. To topple it off my brain decides (without asking my permission) that it must not have emotions (or at least confess to having them). That would be totally catastrophical. You must flirt. You must impress. You must be sexy and sassy and totally everything you could ever think a woman should be…just not emotional. That would scare men away. And if nothing else, it would mean you are weak (if he doesn’t like you that might mean something to you and he might figure that out and that would like be humiliating. Like you’re not good enough? Although that’s not true. You know that. Only your ego doesn’t know that and will have a fit, unless you manage to disconnect it and start living from the heart…mhm.). You have a romance bone (the size of the Mississippi river) in your body. You are a silly romantic. Disastrous. So in other words you are trying to hook a man by not having emotions, meaning you want to marry a man who dislikes emotions and so you can never show your love? Then you will be pushed away if you do show love (story of my life). That’s…that’s highly intelligent. Or you both have emotions but can’t show them. Oh the joy of that relationship.

What do I want from a man? A man who’s totally grounded, living from the heart. Has his confidence in his heart, not his ego. A man that sees life for what it is, yet creates from his imagination. A free spirit. A man connected to nature somehow. A man who cares about you and shows up for you. Who does random acts of kindness for you. A real man, who is also a romantic. A naughty man in the bedroom. A playful, outrageously sexy and curious man who dares to love you with all his heart. Someone who has your best intentions at heart and will always be there to clearly communicate how he sees your relationship and even if something goes wrong, would never fail to be there as one human being to another. And that’s when you realize that your strategy for getting the man you truly want is so far out in Tyrannosaurus Rex land that you should have been extinguished by now. And come to think of it you are. You are single. Your genes aren’t going to be brought forward. And your grandma is going to have a fit after praying for a miracle for the last ten years about you finally settling down. Oupsidaisy.

The fact is, we all have a couple of weird ass patterns we act out. I’m not particularly keen on my own, because they mean I attract people and situations that don’t reflect my heart. But the more I grow, the more I learn to value my own beauty, my own heart, the closer I get to living my dreams. Yes, it’s scary because it feels vulnerable, but it puts you in a lot less vulnerable position than when you act out someone you aren’t to “protect yourself” (usually without even realizing) and you end up in places you never wished to be.

I dare myself every day now to let go of these patterns and not have to be anything and instead just being. It feels really strange and I can’t say I don’t fall back into wanting to impress at times, but I feel so much freer.

Whoever you are, whatever path you are on…don’t give in to chemical reactions. They are only chemical reactions (I’m talking about the ones happening in our brain and make you want to act out strange patterns). Always keep asking what rings true to your heart. Let your heart be your guiding compass.

It’s all about what’s going on underneath the clothes guys. All about the heart. Not dirty enough for you? Well I apologize, but underneath my hooker boots (had to dump those in London) and short leather skirts, I tend to bake pancakes and get ridiculously excited about eco-friendly house holding tips. I do not apologize if I ruined your fantasy (…which was truly my fantasy, my idea of whom I should be…and I do still like hooker boots and leather skirts, I must say. So long as they aren’t a cover for another part of me that I don’t dare show.). I’m proud of my little heart, as you should be of yours! (OK, so that’s potentially a corny sentence, but it’s true, hey?!)

(If you thought this post was going to be about anal sex I must apologize for the misconception. I’m sure you’ll find something that’s about anal sex in the archives though. Metaphorically speaking. Naturally. Actually no – once I blogged about it not metaphorically speaking and I remember this because it’s one of my fav blogs of all time...I feel like a change…maybe I should become a lesbian???)

I want those jeans! And I want that photographer to take a picture like that of me! Hot damn!

Hands down your pants…

Want some hands in your pants ladies and gents? Well it’s NYE, time to get naughty…

Seriously speaking it is time to get naughty – it’s time for new year’s resolutions – whether the ones you intend to keep, or break. Personally I aim for no fear. That means I will probably break my vow at least ten times a day when I chicken out on things, but it also means that I will watch my thoughts and see when something comes in to stop me from what I would love. Because it’s all about what we would love by the end of the day (I mean really – your resolutions are to do what you love, or create what you love, or be whom you love being) and if you aren’t doing it, chances are you have some fear around it. Fear you might not even realize you have – most of the stuff controlling our behavior isn’t conscious until you stop and really think about what you are thinking about…

I don’t think it’s about curing fear either, I think it’s about hanging with the tension and instead of avoiding something, or forcing yourself to do it pretending to be cool, being vulnerable to your own fear and doing it without forcing. Can’t really explain it, but if you force you usually put something on top. Ever tried “impressing” instead of just sharing of yourself, of your heart and what you are good at? Or even if it’s your first ever dance class and you aren’t good at, just relaxing and having fun? Living your heart in other words. I’m making a movie about this next year…a dance movie. Now that’s a dream come true.

So what would I love? I would love to live my dreams, that’s what I would love. And I would love to share those dreams with those I love. I don’t want to blog about all of them right now…I really just feel like sitting down and sharing them with those I love, but man, family, writing and making movies would probably sum them up. Oh and creating a life in Cape Town…I’m still new in town so it will take a while, but buying a car next week will make things a lot easier.

Feel free to share your resolutions with me…the world…your loved ones, or just your own heart! Happy New Year folks – may it bring you the life your heart truly dreams of and lots of love in every area of your life!!! Go create magic!!! Cheers!!!

If your thoughts wander and your hands don’t follow, are you living your dreams???

Would you like to get naked my dear???

Would you like to get naked? You see, I have developed this new concept of nakedness. All you have to do is strip your clothes off and your life is transformed. Forever. Just ask that guy who saw that girl naked and life was never the same again…suddenly he was having SEX all the time…

I don’t know how many times I’ve read The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. Many times. There is this idea put forward if you so like, saying that we are scared of going after our dreams because we do not know if they will be all we’ve imagined. So sometimes our dream is right in front of us and we do not touch it. Because we want to keep the dream.

Other times I find the dream is all around us, but we still somehow manage to avoid it, because we do not give of ourselves to it. We don’t pour all our love and hard work into something, because we are scared we will fail. We leave a little bit of room for failure, a little room to say we didn’t do our best anyway, so if it fails, well it wasn’t because we were incapable it was because of time, or money, or whatever else.

There are yet other times when we are living the dream without really living it at all – we really fucking go for it, but our heart is closed, because we are afraid if we open it and we do not get the end result we dream of, then we will break our own heart. We don’t trust. It’s kind of like living in a glass cube where you do everything, but don’t truly feel it. It’s like banging someone without stopping to feel…it’s being aloof to our own senses, scared that if we invest them we may feel pain.

Another version of not trusting is “keeping our options open” – we invest some time and energy, we think we are truly exploring something, but we don’t surrender to the moment, we always keep a little bit of focus somewhere else. And when things don’t work out we think we were really clever for not surrendering… It’s like putting your toes in the water, thinking you swam and then wondering why you didn’t get anywhere, or felt the beauty of the ocean all around you. Yeah, I wonder why?

The ego is a tricky bitch. It will lure us away from what we love in so many different ways and we won’t even notice it unless we open our heart so that we can truly feel what resonates with us. I always compare it to having sex versus making love. How often do we slow down and feel, totally feel another person’s energy and truly explore their taste, smell and touch? I mean there are a great deal of sensations going on during sex, totally overwhelming, just like life unless you slow down and allow yourself to open your heart to it. Feel it. Explore it. Taste it. Lovingly play with it.

To fully explore you have to be fully open and surrender. To do so you have to fully trust. Trust yourself. Trust your own heart.

I find it a challenge to live my heart fully every day without hold backs. To give without analyzing. To surrender to every moment. To be fully present with those I love. To be fully present with strangers, whether I like them, or not. I have chased my dreams all over the world without ever surrendering and actually living the dream. I still have nightmares about trying to find my home in the Hollywood Hills. It’s the only place I have felt at home you see, but as I started having those dreams and wondering whether it is right to be here and blah, blah…I stopped living. Instead of focusing on my life I started thinking about what everyone else is doing and what the right choice is…my heart chose Cape Town. I want to surrender to the city to truly explore it. My heart sings for this place and my work here, yet it’s so easy to get sidetracked by obstacles…as soon as you have a fight with your boyfriend there’s an obstacle. Potential pain. And if you always run to a new guy…when will you ever discover love?

I’m scared. I’m scared of not meeting enough people and making enough friends. I’m scared of spending Christmas and New Year’s by myself. I’m scared of my economical situation, although that’s looking up. I’m scared of running into danger. I’m scared of failing with what I love most – the projects in Cape Town working in the townships and with film. I’m scared of never finding/recognizing/finding but not being loved by my soulmate (due to ego blockages). I’m fucking petrified already. But I like this town. I have a funny feeling I will come to love it.

I don’t have a return ticket. I think somewhere, that’s where my mind needs to be also. To relax into the city. To feel it. To explore it. To make love to it. To surrender and open my heart to it. That’s my dream. To live life like that. Naked. To live that presently with an open heart, receiving and giving love freely. And it would be nice to be with a man who did the same.

That’s my proposal for a naked lifestyle. I think I will need to sell the concept: better results in life than with Tony Robbins…quick, only $0.99 for one blog that will change your life! The bottom line? Get undressed!!!

Definitively time to get naked…whoop, whoop!

Red for passion, pain and priumph…

Very first time sex, first time biking, first time skating…they pretty much all end up with…blood. First time swimming…you sank like a stone, didn’t you? I don’t know about you but I have found with the years that many first time things, such as first time dates, first days at work and first time sex don’t always give the right impression. First impressions last…well, I’m not so sure.

Do you think you have good judgement? I think I have excellent judgement. In my 30 years I have, maybe once, liked someone from day one that I then ended up falling for. Once. Oftentimes I’ve wanted to punch them in the face for no reason. Then again, maybe I was right, because nothing lasted…but then the one I fell for immediately didn’t either. What I am trying to say is that first impressions are often like an apple: it can look shiny on the outside, but be rotten on the inside. Your intuition may be able to tell you so, or some small, small sign of warning, but it’s unlikely you pick up on it if you are excited, hungry, busy, stressed, tired, over joyed, or any other anything that disrupts an empty mind. Similarly, an apple with bit of a brown patch on the skin, can be utterly scrumptiously delicious.

I guess what I’m trying to say is this: slow down. Empty your mind before you make decisions. And once you’ve made them, give it time. How long does it take to become an athlete? How long does it take to compose music like Mozart? How long did it take before you could bike, or swim? I remember learning to bike – I was black, blue and my knees were in a state of red mess, but it took me an evening and I was biking. In blissful joy. My bruises made me proud. Keeping it up, when I had fallen over so many times, made me proud. I took pride in putting in the effort to reach my desired result. Be smart – learn how to do things the easiest way (intuition and knowledge), but realize that to get up a hill…you gonna have to climb it…like you climb any good man, or woman.

I’m sure that you check your mobile apps, eat a sandwich and walk to work at the same time, whilst avoiding any traffic hazard you encounter…let’s face it: you are used to multi-tasking and living in what can only be called an ADD culture, but some things take time. And they deserve time. People set up companies, fall in love and enrol in difficult courses at uni thinking it will be a breeze. They hit one obstacle, or get one bad feeling and they are gone. It’s uncomfortable, so they leave. They don’t slow down, check what’s truly going on inside (i.e. what unconscious thoughts and feelings have gotten triggered – if you fail one thing and feel worthless, you may decide to stop at whatever you are doing to stop feeling worthless…but in reality you just failed a test, you aren’t worthless, that’s something you made up), empty their mind and let their intuition guide them. Nor do they realize that it may take a few attempts before the discomfort disappears and they are sailing full speed ahead.

Have you ever heard any of your friends (well, maybe men don’t talk like this, no clue, but women talk sex) say: “OMG I have been dating this guy for about three weeks now, I really like him, he totally turns me on in every way and then we had sex for the first time yesterday and it was appalling, so I can’t wait to do it again and again, until we become orgasmic sexperts!!! I’m so excited!” Or “We’ve been in a four year relationship, things are starting to slow down a bit, you know. Get a bit routine, boring. I’m soooo excited because this is just the wake up call I needed to add some spice both into my life AND the relationship.” Didn’t hear that? Me neither. Nor have I heard of many people going on a bad first date and being excited about giving it a second go. Especially not myself. I’m the one date queen. What’s more, I haven’t really heard of many people having first time sex, or going on a first date thinking they weren’t excited, anxious, or wanting to impress, but rather totally grounded and intuitive, living their greatness. In other words: they weren’t really in the best state of mind for making decisions…but they probably made one, or two (I’ll see you again/I’ll have sex with you again OR I won’t see you again/I won’t have sex with you again).

I’m sure we have all encountered situations where it’s pretty damn obvious that we will, under no circumstance date, or have sex with someone again, or whatever it is we did (some mistakes you truly only wanna make once and sometimes you do truly know with your heart you don’t want it again), all I’m saying is: slow down, take your time, explore and use your intuition to make your decisions. And remember that learning to swim takes time and learning to bike even gives you bruises. Just like that great sex you had the other day…  (Have you ever had that awkward moment when someone asked you what a very awkward positioned bruise was all about? Mmmm, awkwardly great, aren’t they?)

Red hot…

The parody of life, the beauty and the…uhm…blowjobs…

I got this email today: “Dear Sir or Madam, Please take me off your emailing list with immediate effect. I am sick of you.” Is it just me or should the person make up their mind whether to be polite, or an asshole? Confusing. Someone else informed me via Facebook that happiness is always an inside job…and I who always thought it was a blowjob. Even more confusing. And that’s the thing with life: it can be confusing. So fucking confusing you’d need to get fucked just to forget your confusion for a while….but then there’s the confusing bit about love and finding the right men…I mean man…and uhm good sex…

I was messaging with a friend of mine today and her newborn baby was just awakening on her chest as she was writing to me. As I later sat on the bus this suddenly sprung to mind. Or to be precise: what sprung to mind was the feeling of how you watch over a new life filled with compassion because you know what it feels like to wake up, to fall asleep, to fall in love, to lose loved ones, to fail at something, to succeed, to laugh till your belly hurts, to cry till you think you have nothing left inside, to dance like the world is your oyster…if so only for the night. You know, so you feel. You feel for them as if they were you. Especially children as they are absolutely unprotected, or guarded from us by fear or thinking patterns. They are just there, looking with big eyes at a very fresh world.

Moments after this came to mind I gave up my seat to an older lady, simply because I know what tired feet feel like (and because my granddad would jump down from heaven to kick my butt if I didn’t behave with decency towards others).

We act with compassion towards each other; with understanding and sympathy simply because we know. We know what it feels like. Even if we are different and some of us feel pain in different places from others, or fall in love with different things, we all know. We all know pain and we all know love. We know laughter and tears….and making love, of course. We hold onto each other and support one another through life because we know what life feels like, so if that’s the only thing we know. Because we may know what life feels like, but life itself is often confusing.

The day I decided I could have kids because I knew enough about life, was the day I realized I know nothing and life is an experience, not an accomplishment. Yes, we are here to grow and learn…but we know so little. So long as we do our best, we love, we enjoy…we are successful. What life throws you at any given moment is impossible to know. To take a deep breath and lovingly and, erm, preferably with a good sense of humor, deal with any given circumstance is truly success. To apply your knowledge from the past yes, but also realize that what you know is always limited…unless for the heart, of course…I always believe that the heart and your soul’s connection with life somehow knows…but it knows without you knowing. You just open the door and you get the answer (sometimes in a rather weird way), but how, or why, or what…who knows?

Sometimes I try to figure it all out. I think about things. I think for so long I don’t act. That’s why my new motto is “maybe”. I will surrender to every moment and try things out. I will follow my heart….so if it goes in ten different directions. Because hell, I don’t understand myself…I have patterns, thoughts, behaviors that are down right ridiculous and if I think…I end up acting out the same story all over again. I’m the flakiest person you’d ever come across when it comes to the men I meet for example. I can hardly commit to a date – if I think about it, there’s always something wrong. That’s how bad I am. Once I love someone though, I’m loyal for life. My best friend told me the other week that if I she was a man, she’d just marry me, because no matter what, I’m there for the men I’ve once fallen for. As tragic as I think this is, hopefully one day one man can appreciate that….once he’s battled my five thousand dragons to get to my heart that is…that I’m of course now willingly giving away to the right man…erm. You see…if I think about this, I will not go near men. I just get confused and back off. Unless they knock me down, I’m gone. So I won’t think. I’ll just do. Surrender. Let go. Fly with whatever’s there.

So yes peeps…life’s confusing, but we are here to experience it and if that’s how you see it I, personally, think it becomes beautiful. Especially if you surrender to the moment, because then you have very little time to miss lovers lost, or erm ahem California, or your most precious gran or grandpa… We’re here to live. To be there for each other. To reach out to one another. To support each other through this most magical thing called life. May love be with you. Always.

Precisely: live the love…although apparently happiness is an inside job, so don’t think you can solve your man’s problem’s this way…LOL!

 

 

#humor #sex #fitness #notforyou ???!?!?

People totally don’t have their priorities right. They do such silly things. I mean have you read the papers lately?! I understand you aren’t all like California in the soul, but listen. Before we discuss nuclear weapons, whose land you want to own next, the size of strawberries within the EU and cucumber shapes (I mean they aren’t dildos, come on. Just drop it.) and things such as who you’re gonna beat up next because your soccer team lost (they played better, they won…point of the game right there…), I think there are more important things to take into consideration. Like big butts, fat smiles and excellent boobs… So I decided to come up with some totally awesome topics for the newspapers:

1) Big Muscles. They keep talking about overweight people and too skinny people. I’m sure the overweight people are as stoked about this as the skinny people. Like what’s the point? We all want to feel good about ourselves, write about something that will make us fit i.e. move our ass and enjoy moving our ass. Like seriously. And big muscles is exactly what will move our ass. I mean who wouldn’t like to move their ass to touch those guns, or get them to get touched? Total motivation right there. Just imagine opening the papers every morning and getting inspired to look great? Totally ace. (If the papers still have issues, there’s this place called California, in which you find a town called Los Angeles and a place called Runyon Canyon. There you will find your inspiration to get fit: find a nice ass and jog behind it. Works every time. Please keep it to the Canyon though. Stalking never made anyone happy.)

2) Humor. It can totally save lives, make you live longer, avoid people getting angry and killing each other in traffic, or on the tube (with weapons resembling umbrellas) and give you brilliant abs. What’s there not to love? (The falling sales figures of Prozac. It’s alright folks – we can hire the pharmacists as humorists instead.)

3) Chocolate. Like they write about what not to eat. Boring. Come on, it’s like saying here’s a toy you ain’t gonna play with. That’s so like I’m three years old and trying to make you jealous, only it’s not. It’s like seriously boring. Instead, cheer people up. Write about chocolate and other aphrodisiacs that are also good for you. You know like cancer stopping instead of cancer starting. I mean like get your head out of the gutter and start looking at the stars – Oscar Wilde figured that one out like a hundred years ago. People get off on sex. Give them sexy food. Purrrrlease!! (If you don’t believe me, you can try my raw chocolate pudding topped with raspberry sauce and you will start believing in healthy foods in a minute. If not I’ll feed you horny goats weed.)

4) Love. People wake up – we really couldn’t care less about Richard the twenty-seventh suing the Duchess of Haughtiness during the divorce. It would only make us gloat, because it confirms our wish that even the rich have problems and gloating isn’t good for anyone. Come on, it’s like a sin in the bible or something. 2000 year old knowledge that it isn’t healthy. Doh. What we want is like the juicy stuff. The secret sex tips and romantic holidays, where true love blossoms and Hugh Hefner isn’t a sex symbol. I mean girls could cry for less, with or without our bunny ears and fluffy tails. Give us the happily ever after fairy tales with added dirty details.

5) Page Four. There’s like a page three right and although I think they totally rob womanhood of beauty nine times out of ten on this page (seriously: get decent photographers and less Photoshop), the least they could do is to add a page four where there are nice pics of real men. Orgasm whilst reading the paper wasn’t reserved for men. If women are the ones giving the orgasm – give them one too. Like hello. Equality. That was like so invented in the sixties. Did you suffer memory loss since then or what? (And no: women don’t get orgasms from vacuum cleaners, even though they come with a shaft. Just saying.)

6) Celebrity Success. Like seriously. I love dirty. Dirty is very nice. Especially during mud fights and between satin sheets at night, but that’s it. I reserve dirt to men. When it comes to the news I would like to have some good clean fun, reading about how fabulous life is. If Brangelina breaks up once a day and they’re like my fav celebrity couple, how the hell do you think I’ll feel about my dream man when he comes home from work, all nice and dirty? Like there’s no hope and I will be doomed to a crazy existence of breaking up. Not funny. If someone else says anything negative about Angelina I will seriously shoot, I mean love them into a nicer path in life. Get what I’m saying?!

7) Sex. Like hello. How else to solve problems? You have make up sex. I don’t want to hear about nuclear weapons, I want to hear about how to remove them. The best way of removing anything from a man is love, shortly followed by sex. If you miss out on the sex, he may get commitment issues and wanna hold onto mommy’s (nuclear weapon’s) hand instead of your ass.

8) Purpose. There’s like gang wars and other wars, and theft and this and that, which is insanely depressing to hear about, because life is filled with so many cool things, which people don’t discover because their teachers in school teach them how to sit still and do nothing. So purpose…this is like elementary my dear Watsons. If you don’t have something fun to occupy yourself with, you will turn to destruction. It’s basic. It’s like ancient. Give a club to a stone age man and he will smash something up. Give a karate class and he’ll learn respect by striving to become a good person and fighter. If you tell someone not to use a club, they ain’t gonna listen unless you give them something else to play with. Like get what I’m saying? If you wanna get over one man, you need to shag another….like fall in love with him enough to shag him. Please someone up above do you hear me?

9) Teach Me What To Do. This is so basic it’s below elementary. I once saw a teacher in the UK eat crisps whilst teaching her class. And they say the students should get inspired and follow the teacher? But A) they weren’t allowed to eat during class and B) crisps really aren’t gonna make your body love you back. So like if the papers are filled with things we shouldn’t do, they’ve missed the point. (Don’t do a Murdoch where you stalk people for entertainment purposes, don’t become a President and cheat on your wife with blowjobs from women who love the press, don’t steal, don’t lie, don’t, don’t, don’t…) So like what are we supposed to do? Tell me something fun so I can get inspired, get off my ass and do it. Wanna inform the world? Tell the bad news, short concise and to the point. Then get onto something useful. Like how to curl your hair and become a spiritual guru, all at the same time. It’s true you really can do both if you’re a celebrity who have an ego and a heart.

If after reading this, people mention things again that are bad for you in newspapers, without providing the solution, I’m gonna sue them for negative hypnosis and ruining my brain. No, wait, I’m not gonna sue them, that’s like negative – I’m gonna send them to a nudist community. There should be plenty of temptation to veer them off their harmful paths in life. Whoever said sinning couldn’t be a useful distraction? So long as they find love in the end I mean. See like Hollywood got something right: sell the sex scenes and provide a happy ending. Because truly boys and girls, sex doesn’t solve problems, it just awakens our appetite, relieves tension and distract people enough to give you a chance to get them out of harms way. Love is the only real solution. So wake up. Play. Make Love. And write about it in the newspapers.

Like do you see what I mean? News are like totally destructive. They make people go wham bam tits up by showing us what not to do…

He looks like…sex?!??!!?

Mark Darcy: I don’t think you’re an idiot at all. I mean, there are elements of the ridiculous about you. Your mother’s pretty interesting. And you really are an appallingly bad public speaker. And, um, you tend to let whatever’s in your head come out of your mouth without much consideration of the consequences… But the thing is, um, what I’m trying to say, very inarticulately, is that, um, in fact, perhaps despite appearances, I like you, very much. Just as you are.

Bridget Jones: You once said you liked me just as I am and I just wanted to say likewise. I mean there are stupid things your mum buys you, tonight’s another… classic. You’re haughty, and you always say the wrong thing in every situation and I seriously believe that you should rethink the length of your sideburns. But, you’re a nice man and I like you. If you wanted to pop by some time that might be nice… more than nice.

Friends = people who don’t just think, but know, you are an idiot* and love you anyway!!!

Lovers = people who don’t just think, but know, you are an idiot and love you anyway, especially when you are an idiot with no clothes on!!!

* Idiot = highly intelligent, super sexy, wonderful person who sometimes screws up.

The question is: does he look like an idiot you could love?

Keep calm and love erections…

I’m so stoked. I’ve discovered silly romance. I can’t get away from loving sharp sexiness and no matter how much I try I can’t stop myself from writing sexy headlines that make me burst into laughter (when serious boys make serious comments about them I don’t laugh so much, hence why I sometimes try putting a restraining order on myself…but it usually lasts for an hour until I find something else that makes me burst into laughter…) and I don’t take teddy bears too seriously…but I’ve decided to give love a go. For a month (at least) I’m gonna cross my own comfort zones and do and say all those cheesy things I feel. I mean I already do that, but there’s a difference when you actively pursue something. I’m now pursuing romance. Not just the boy meets girl kind (I’m still waiting for a boy, so we can cute meet, as they say in the film industry) but in general just allowing myself to give of myself entirely without the need of perfection when doing so. And love. Just love. A hell with perfection. Hello heart. And hello giving of heart.

It’s like, you love erections if you’re a woman, right? I mean if you love the man, perverts be gone. Even so giving a man you love an erection can be quite nervwrecking. I mean there are different ways of giving a man an erection and some, can be quite easy, no fuss. Men are after all quite easy to please. Put your hand there. Right. Easy. Now, if you really love someone though, you may want to give him something more than that, you may want to really show your enthusiasm and do a striptease, or tie him up in bed and paint him with chocolate….and quite a few things can go wrong in such scenarios… (Darling, I’m stuck in my dress…erm, could you help me out?) It used to freak me out. I’m not perfect. I might get the moves wrong. Yet, what we love isn’t perfection. Perfection is an image on a screen. Love is what we feel when we laugh together, cry together and truly connect with someone. We love them because we get them, we feel them, we know them. We don’t love plastic dolls because even though they are perfect we don’t connect with them.

When someone shows you just how much they love your tits and ass, or erection, so if they can’t pull off the perfect striptease, we love it. The sexy bit is their willingness to show their sexiness with you (given you are compatible. I’m sure we’ve all encountered people we erm weren’t compatible with and he looked at you, you looked at him, both thinking “you suck..” …and you weren’t gonna suck it, let’s just put it that way…). So anyway, with a gorgeous person, your enthusiasm for their erection will be sufficient to make their heart go boom. Share of yourself. Give of yourself. It’s the most precious gift you have.

Cheese, romance and sex…

Iris: I’ve found almost everything ever written about love to be true. Shakespeare said “Journeys end in lovers meeting.” What an extraordinary thought. Personally, I have not experienced anything remotely close to that, but I am more than willing to believe Shakespeare had. I suppose I think about love more than anyone really should. I am constantly amazed by its sheer power to alter and define our lives. It was Shakespeare who also said “love is blind”. Now that is something I know to be true. For some quite inexplicably, love fades; for others love is simply lost. But then of course love can also be found, even if just for the night. And then, there’s another kind of love: the cruelest kind. The one that almost kills its victims. It’s called unrequited love. Of that I am an expert. Most love stories are about people who fall in love with each other. But what about the rest of us? What about our stories, those of us who fall in love alone? We are the victims of the one-sided affair. We are the cursed of the loved ones. We are the unloved ones, the walking wounded. The handicapped without the advantage of a great parking space! Yes, you are looking at one such individual. And I have willingly loved that man for over three miserable years! The absolute worst years of my life! The worst Christmas’, the worst Birthday’s, New Years Eve’s brought in by tears and valium. These years that I have been in love have been the darkest days of my life. All because I’ve been cursed by being in love with a man who does not and will not love me back. Oh god, just the sight of him! Heart pounding! Throat thickening! Absolutely can’t swallow! All the usual symptoms. I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places you didn’t know you had inside you. And it doesn’t matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join, or how many glasses of chardonnay you drink with your girlfriends… you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy. And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he’ll see the light and show up at your door. And after all that, however long all that may be, you’ll go somewhere new. And you’ll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade.

I love this monologue from The Holiday. I love reading it out loud, playing with different accents and really letting the words sink in. I love it because it’s so true in some ways. Well, at least the last sentence and I believe it applies to more than one area of life – at some point we all have, or will work for things that will never pay off, spend time working on friendships that will never work out, suck up to people who will never care, work for those that don’t give a damn about our efforts…and the list goes on. Basically we waste our time on things and people who will never pay us back, but then, there are those that will. Those that truly see our beauty whether it is because they met us in circumstance where it is obvious, seeing all our good sides and talents, or because they truly connect with our soul…and sometimes some really good sex helps too! Those people are wonderful gifts and in the darkest of night we must remember those souls, because they will surely pass our path again, all we need is patience.

And then, just to finish it off, you need another of my favorite monologues, from yet another wonderfully cheesy movie. I love this movie, Stardust, because when I am happy I feel like a glowing star, just like Claire Danes. I feel like I sparkle and like there are people who make me sparkle more. I feel wonderful. Like my true self. And I do believe that comes from love. The love inside of me.

Yvaine (Claire Danes): You know when I said I knew little about love? That wasn’t true. I know a lot about love. I’ve seen it, centuries and centuries of it, and it was the only thing that made watching your world bearable. All those wars… pain, lies, hate… It made me want to turn away and never look down again. But when I see the way that mankind loves… You could search to the furthest reaches of the universe and never find anything more beautiful. So yes, I know that love is unconditional. But I also know that it can be unpredictable, unexpected, uncontrollable, unbearable and strangely easy to mistake for loathing, and… What I’m trying to say, Tristan is…I think I love you. Is this love, Tristan? I never imagined I’d know it for myself. My heart… It feels like my chest can barely contain it. Like it’s trying to escape because it doesn’t belong to me any more. It belongs to you. And if you wanted it, I’d wish for nothing in exchange…no gifts. No goods. No demonstrations of devotion. Nothing but knowing you loved me too. Just your heart, in exchange for mine.

Love is sexy…holding hands is sexy…