Erotica : Shine a Light – Masturbation Monday #148

Masturbation Monday is the weekly erotica writing meme hosted by Kayla Lords. From time to time, I like to play along. 

The prompt this week is Candlelight – based on an image by Marie Rebelle. Not only is it a gorgeous image, it’s also a prompt that’s perfect for erotica.

At midnight,

by candlelight and sound alone,

she walks up the creaking steps to her waiting bed.

It is where her lover

waits for her, the promise of his lust

pulsing in the suffocating summer night air

like a lifeline coming through.

At midnight, she walks up those stairs,

nothing guiding her but for one flame

and her endless nerve.

The house is silent,

the only noise coming from

a lonely bird outside, somewhere distantly hidden in the nighttime tenebrosity of the moors.

The house is silent, apart from the sound of her breaths,



quickening as she approaches her door.

He waits there, sat on her bed,

illuminated by one flame, one flame shining a light on the aching need

brewing between both of them, brewing all throughout the day until she spoke the words to him

meet me in my bedchamber at midnight

spoken softly into his ear, softly so mother and father and sisters and maids wouldn’t hear, this scandalously unladylike display of desires put on for his ears and his alone.

He stands to approach her, takes her hand and presses a kiss onto

the back of her hand. The candlelight shines a light, and she is once more taken aback

at the sheer perfection of him.

The candlelight shines a light

but after the string of hidden passions snaps, and clothes are stripped and flesh is bared

it’s only when the flame blows out that both of them

can truly see each other

for the first time

at last.


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On High Heels – for Kink of the Week

“But the truth is, I want to be some woman’s work boots, not her high heels.”
“Work boots?” What was sexy about that? And did women have work boots?
“Yeah. You know, the boots she pulls out when she wants to get down and dirty, hiking or gardening or boating or painting the kitchen. The ones she relies on and trusts and lives her life hard and good and on her terms in. Her favourites.”
― Erin McCarthy, Hard and Fast

I make absolutely no secret about the fact that I am a short-arse. It’s right there, in my Twitter bio along with the fact that I wear glasses as both are two home truths in my life. It can get mightily inconvenient at times, and I often find myself wishing I had Mister Fantastic-like stretching powers just because it would make certain things a little bit less of a kerfuffle.

You’d think then, that I’d be a sucker for a pair of high heels. And I am… kind of. Not in the way you might think, anyway.

For my graduation, I got a pair of high heels from my mother to wear, as a present. I don’t even remember why I was so excited to get them because excitement quickly gave way to terror visions of tripping over a mic extension cord and falling on top of of our head of year. Still, I wore them and graduated without any major trippage occurring. In the years since, I’ve only owned one other pair of high heeled shoes. Both pairs were gorgeous, both pairs in the end only got a few outings.

Aesthetically, I fucking love high heels. Done well, they’re like tiny feats of architecture. I refer you to Rebel’s post on this subject, and the picture of her amazingly detailed and gorgeous Iron Fist shoes – I mean… LOOK AT THEM. Hours of delicate crafting, right there.

But personally, I don’t think I’d ever invest in a pair again. There’s a couple of reasons for this:

  • I have arthritis in my knees and even though I’ve often said on this blog that my body is an entity I am still learning to suss out, I am pretty fucking confident on matter of keeping whatever structure my knees still have in tact for as long as I can;
  • The idea that some people really think you’re less of a woman if you don’t wear high heels pisses me right off, especially (in my situation) for the reason mentioned above;
  • The few times I have worn them, they’ve never felt right to me;

High heels and I, we’re always going to have a complicated relationship. However, boots are a different matter. A pair of sturdy, chunky boots on my feet seems to have the same effect as a pair of high heels can have on others. I walk taller. Stand stronger. Feel like I can navigate my way through life (and London) with some form of confidence.

I trust in my boots like some trust in their high heels. They’re my favourites – the ones I rely on. But that doesn’t mean I won’t ever stop admiring a beautifully crafted pair of heels.

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Got Your Back – for Kink of the Week

A few years ago, my boyfriend’s back inspired me to write a poem. I love the feel of it, the muscles and curves and softness. Running my fingers over the expanse of it, gently scratching… I never knew how sensual a back could be until I had his to touch.

So, as someone who adores her lover’s back, taking part in this edition of Kink of the Week (all about backs, but of course) was a no-brainer.

His back

We’re both creatures of touch. We like cuddling, lying entwined and letting the world fade away. And touching his back is one of the most potent ways of helping him relax. I am more than willing to give – as I said, I love the feel of it. He’s got the most gorgeous dip into the lower half of his back, leading down to his bottom. It’s the place I love to rest my hands, sliding them under his shirt or jumper and relishing the warmth and comfort.

It’s where I rest my hands when we kiss.

He’s ticklish. I kind of try to be very careful when I touch him, because understand that when I say ticklish, I mean he will fall the fuck apart in a sea of giggle-spasms. So when I touch his gorgeous back, I tend to put just enough pressure in to make it feel less like infinite feathers and more like actual my fingers. I scratch him, gently, which makes him make noises that make me smile just thinking about them.

His back is poetry to me.

My back

I am nothing if not a constant knot of muscle tension. My back has been a source of irritation for plenty of years, and my day job – as much as I love it – doesn’t tend to help. So to have loving touch lavished upon me is a treat for every sense.

Somewhere in our bedroom, I’ve still got a bottle of lavender massage oil. But, as regular readers of this blog know, I tend to lose bottles of fun stuff – and it’s not just lube. Still, massage oil isn’t something I really need when I’ve got his touch. Little scratches, like I give him. Kneading. Feathery flicks.

I’m getting shivers from thinking about it.

Is it a turn on? Perhaps, just because it’s intimacy and I am a sucker for intimacy. Good thing he is too. We love lavishing intimacy on each other, and we love each other’s backs.

It’s a sensation that makes me mellow. Something that makes me un-knot.


One day, early on in our relationship, I brought a purple tickle feather with me on a visit. It was still a time of getting to know each other’s bodies, not to mention getting to know the bit of my sexuality that involved a partner.

It was a big feather. Rather a bit of a piss to carry around with me on the train, but carry it with me I did. And I presented it to him with a glint in the eye – a can we? may I? 

That afternoon, I used the feather as a tool to get better acquainted with his body. Specifically his back. His poem of a back, his strong centre. I let a purple tickle feather be my guide to discovering an until then unknown quantity – one of many.

And wherever that damn thing is now, I can’t thank it enough for teaching me.


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Baby, Come and Kiss Me Quick

I’ve mentioned before on this blog that I’m neither very good nor very confident in initiating sex with my boyfriend. I like to think that I’ve been conditioned by plenty of outside resources over the years that I should make a big freaking deal out of it – a performance, if you will.

And as I’ve also mentioned before, that rarely, if ever, goes well.

But one thing I can and will wholeheartedly say I am confident in is my kissing skills. It took me until the age of 20 to get my first kiss, and naturally I was about as good at it as a daddy-long-legs is at dancing a tango. Good god though, was it ever exciting. It wasn’t too long after I started this blog, and it felt like with that first kiss I had sealed something profound – the start of a new chapter in my life.  Level 2.

Yes, I may have been shit at it at first, but I HAD BEEN KISSED. And I quickly developed a want for more.

It’s five-ish years laters now. I’ve been with my boyfriend for three of those years, and he kisses me in all the ways that have made me fall in love with the act itself. A kiss between lovers is a versatile act – it can act as anything you want it to act as. A show of affection. A statement of intent. A punctuation of a sentence. Kisses are as gorgeous, messy, wild and take-my-breath-away as sex can be.

And sometimes a kiss is all you need.

Sometimes I get my best life from those kisses that sweep me off my feet and make me dizzy. The kind that, wherever you are at the time (and I’ve had these both in public and in private), briefly rob you of your coherence and sense of direction.

You cease to be human just for a second. In that moment, you are an ethereal creature, walking on air. Sometimes, that’s all I need. Sex be damned – although of course, if it leads to that, I ain’t gonna protest – because those kisses, given in the way only he can give me, making me feel the way only he can make me feel…

Goddamn, but those are the best kind.

As an aside, the title for this post is a snippet of lyric from Nathan Sykes’s song Kiss Me Quick. I absolutely love this song (to the point where it came in on Superdrug yesterday and I had a little boogie in the queue for the till) but what made me love it even more was that, in googling the song for this post, was Nathan’s explanation of the lyrics.

It just came around, when we were out just outside of London in the countryside, I was working with LDN Noise and we were just chatting about nonsense and I just said, I’m really bad at flirting, honestly.  So we wrote a song that can flirt for me, it’s as simple as that.  Obviously with the album there are songs that are a lot deeper lyrically, and a lot are very personal to me about relationship and things that I’ve gone through and this was just as simple. We were just laughing and joking about the fact that I can’t flirt. So that’s what we wrote “Kiss Me Quick” about and it ended up being my debut single.

It may come as not at all a surprise to you that I’m now seriously considering writing a song that can initiate sex with my boyfriend for me.

Wait, that sounds dodgy.


Written for Kink of the Week – check out what other people wrote on the topic of kissing by clicking those big red lips below.

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Heartbreak Song Sundays 3: Dancing on my Own – Robyn

Somebody said you got a new friend
Does she love you better than I can
There’s a big black sky over my town
I know where you at, I bet she’s around
Yeah I know it’s stupid
But I just got to see it for myself

If there’s one thing the Swedes are brilliant at (aside from melancholic crime dramas) it’s dance music. Swedish über-producer Max Martin is repsonsible for some of the best pop dance tunes of the past two decades, Icona Pop is half responsible for I Love It, with Charlie XCX and pixie-haired Robyn is completely responsible for two of the country’s greatest exports in the way of heartbreak songs – and today, we’re going to look at one of them: Dancing on My Own.

While that other Robyn heartbreak song (With Every Heartbeat) provides smatterings of grim optimism, Dancing on My Own is brimming over with loneliness. It’s told from the perspective of someone who’s been dumped a while ago and is still reeling, now more than ever because she’s having to face up to the prospect of her ex having moved on with someone new.

So, even though she knows it’s stupid, she knows that both her ex and his new partner are out together on the town that night, dancing at a nightclub. And she follows them, because (as you can see in the lyrics) she needs to see it for herself.

Dancing on My Own, as you may have guessed, is all about post-break-up emotional masochism.

I’m in the corner, watching you kiss her (Oh oh oh)
I’m right over here, why can’t you see me (Oh oh oh)
I’m givin’ it my all, but I’m not the girl you’re takin’ home (Oh oh oh)
I keep dancin’ on my own
(I keep dancin’ on my own)

Robyn has talked about how Dancing on My Own was inspired by her love of  “inherently sad, gay disco anthems”, and it does fit in quite well alongside those older heartbreak disco classics, while still being modern, because the story told in the song is something that will keep resonating with people for decades to come. It’s a simple set-up, but we’ve all been there, rest assured. Maybe not in a club, but somewhere, at some point along the line, you will have shared the same space with someone who once loved you back and the person they now save their love for.

And it will hurt, especially if there’s something that’s been left unresolved for you. You want this person to, if not as someone they love, see you as someone they can still talk to, laugh along with, joke along with and trust. And sometimes, that’s not going to happen, ever.

So you just want to say goodbye. But you’re not getting it, because in your ex’s mind, they’ve already said it. And now you’re in a nightclub/school hall/at the cinema/at a party, facing up to that fact because it’s playing out right in front of you.

So far away, but still so near
(The lights go on, the music dies)
But you don’t see me, standing here
(I just came to say goodbye)

I honestly don’t know how to come to terms with that. I had a couple of moments like this myself over the course of my life, and each one of them stung, not least The Wrong ‘Un (the one I mentioned in the Don’t Speak entry). That one probably stung the most because I couldn’t really run anywhere – both went to my school, and his new squeeze shared a bedroom with me on the big trip abroad.

I guess I’ve come to terms with the fact that there was no goodbye to say. There was never anything between us apart from sort of decent banter, and sort of decent banter alone does not make anything anything. We weren’t really friends, or at least I don’t actually think we were. The me he got to see every day was a me I altered especially for him, so he could find me cool.

Here’s a hint: that’s a pretty big nope, right there.

Dancing on My Own isn’t a happy song, and doesn’t have a happy ending. Robyn’s ex doesn’t see her, and doesn’t let her have her moment of goodbye. She keeps dancing on, on her own, presumably dancing away the rage of emotions brewing in her body.

Sometimes that’s all you can do, really. Sometimes there’s no happy ending, no goodbye. All you can do in that moment is dance. And you can pick yourself up, dust yourself off and move on later.

Next time: Robyn, part two, with a feature on With Every Heartbeat.

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KOTW – Silk Stockings

Cover of a June issue of Silk Stocking StoriesWhen I was a kid, back in the 90s, there was a show on TV called Silk Stalkings. If you don’t know Silk Stalkings, it was aired in the early nineties and featured two detectives solving sexually-based crimes of passion – the Silk Stalkings of the title.

As I said, I was just a kid. I’d never watched the show so I didn’t know what it was about, or that its title was a piece of wordplay on “silk stockings”. Stockings, in my mind, were the beige-y, ugly things my grandmother wore underneath her trousers.

I never thought I’d change my mind on the subject. It’s hard to say exactly when I did, but I think it happened on a visit to Harmony on Oxford Street. I was wandering around a bit aimlessly, just allowing myself to get lost among the toys, lubes, books and lingerie. The lingerie was gorgeous. Another thing I never thought: that I’d start to enjoy shopping for bras and panties. When you’re an awkward kid on the larger side, shopping for clothes in general is like listening to your nan talking about anal sex.

The only thing I enjoyed about it was looking at bras and stockings and slips and so on. Reaching out and feeling the material, letting the silkiness slide between my fingers, tracing the patterns on the most indecently beautiful bras… and then going home with about three version of the same standard bra I always ended up with – beige, white or black, because I was doomed to never find a shop in which they stocked something in my size that actually looked like those gorgeous “fantasy”bras (as my mum called them).

The fancy, sexy, gorgeous bras seemed so out of reach that I never even considered stockings until that visit to Harmony. The pictures on the boxes were daring me, not taunting me. They were telling me to give them a go and not turning me away in judgement. And my good grief, I had the pick of the lot. Red, black, white, sheer, fishnet, hold-up, and even full body stockings.

The full body stockings intrigued me. They shouted at me the loudest and I don’t even know why. Looking at them, at the woman on the box telling me that it was okay. It was okay to want to buy these and I’d look so good in them. And in that moment, I realized that it really was okay to want to buy these.

So I did – and I never wore the body stocking because I fucking lost the package.

I have worn plenty of pairs of stockings though. The first time I wore a pair on an evening out was at an Erotic Meet event – it was the night that, for the first time, I felt like it wasn’t out of reach. That something so sexy, sensuous, lush as a pair of stockings (in this case couples with a pair of gorgeous pillar box red heels) was something I could wear. That this was something available.

I’ve developed a massive love for stockings since then. I love how they look on me. The softness against my skin, the feel as I slide them on. I feel like another person. I want to walk tall in them. I want to show off my legs and dance around like a 40s screen siren. I want them to be the only thing I’m wearing when I’m on top of him at the end of the night, fucking him wearing nothing but silk stockings and a big grin.

I still haven’t seen a single episode of Silk Stalkings, by the way. But I like to think that, just like Red Shoe Diaries, it was the name alone that made me wonder about something that seemed so alien at the time. I like to think that the name alone sparked a curiosity in me, a curiosity that may have just led to me typing the very first words in this blog, three years ago. It’s funny, the endless amount of things a name alone can do…

Kink of the Week

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Writing Blog Hop Interview

The lovely Marie Rebelle asked me (ever so politely; she even DM’ed me specifically to ask) if I’d like to be tagged in an author blog hop. And considering I’m writing this introduction right now, it’s safe to assume that I agreed.

At the end, I’m supposed to be tagging three other (aspiring) authors so they can, in turn, answer the questions as well – this way, the hop keeps going.

Right. Off we go then.

1, What are you working on right now?
Well, currently I’m keeping busy with my day job! I’m taking kind of a break from writing short stories, but knowing me, that’s not going to last very long. It’s just a bit of recharging the brainbox, is all.
I kind of, tentatively, am scribbling down bits and bobs for future stories, but nothing concrete. I’d like to try my hand at a novella in the coming months…
2, How does it differ from other work in its genre?

To be honest, I wouldn’t know. I’d say my stuff is very “me” – the dialogue resembles the way I talk with people, the settings are not very elaborate and it’s nearly always set in London. I just tend to roll with whatever is bubbling in my head; scenarios that make me smile.

Bits and bobs from other works tend to float in as inspiration though. I might think of something I read somewhere else, and then go “But what if?” and riff from there. I don’t know if that makes sense.

3, Why do you write what you do?
In the words of Norman Lovett as Holly in Red Dwarf….
It’s a laugh, ‘innit?
I write erotic fiction because I like writing erotic fiction. It’s a genre that fits me, it’s a genre I like to play with. I’d like to experiment with other genres too, but erotic fiction is a genre that just works for me. And it’s FUN. It’s just fucking fun to write.
I don’t write erotica to turn myself on. I write erotica because I can. If you get turned on by it, that’s brilliant – but if it also makes you laugh, cry, giggle, snort, say “ah, yep, that…”, that’s even more brilliant.
4, How does your writing process work?

Writing process??


No, seriously. I look at a call for submissions, have a little brainstorm and start writing if something comes to mind. When I finish, I send it to my other half for editing, we bat it back and forth until I sit at my computer, shouting “CAN I SEND IT NOW IS IT GOOD WHY IS THIS SHITE.”

And then he calms me down and tells me to send it.


I don’t yet know who to tag…. If you want to be tagged, just let me know!

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Baton Twirling Blog Hop

I was invited by the lovely Elizabeth from The Little Shop of Erotic Delights to take over the baton in a blog hop. You can find her answers here. Basically the idea is that I ask myself some questions, so that you get an insight in to how I work and why I write. So, here I go…

Just to start this post out...
Just to start this post out…

Why and when did you start writing?

Ooh… I’ve been writing since I was a small ‘un. I think I just grew into it, making up stories and living in my own head. I still do.


When did you start blogging?

I’ve been blogging on and off since I was 17, just to give myself some purpose. But Lady Laid Bare was born in February 2011. It had a different name when it started out (the rather unimaginative Secrets and Fantasies), but I eventually decided that Lady Laid Bare made more sense. Next month will be my two year bloggiversary, and I’m very proud I stuck to it for that long. I plan to do it for a hell of a lot longer too.

When did you start writing erotic fiction?

I started out by doing short stories on the blog, honing my mad skillz. Then, in August 2011, I went to Erotic Meet for the first time, where I met my good friend Elenya Lewis. We shared a hotel room and apparently a passion for erotic fiction. I still credit her for getting me to the point of submitting my first story, which happened in October that year.

Why do you write erotic fiction?

Because I feel very comfortable in the genre. It’s such a broad spectrum and gives you a lot to toy around with.

What’s your writing routine?

I’m trying to build up one. It usually depends on a couple of factors, like what time of the day it is, where my partner is and how much I’m willing to do that day.

If I had it my way, I would wake up at 6.45. Have a shower, have breakfast and make coffee. See my partner off to work, take coffee to my workplace and boot up the laptop. Skip past the emails and write for two hours. Then a break for emails. Then more writing. Break for blogging. More writing.

And then some reading time.

What inspires you?

Other books. Art. Films.

What do you like to do when you’re not writing?

I like watching shit television, cooking, reading and snogging the eff out of my partner.

What would you do if you couldn’t be a writer?

In the words of Dr. Mark Greene… die, I guess.


There you go. I hope you like these answers… I’m passing this meme over to my partner in crime Rhye X at Seven Seas of Rhye, btw.

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Free Your Mind

You know me, I have no qualms about doing a meme. This isn’t exactly a straight-up one, but it does help you delve deeper into your mind… And I like doing that too…



  • How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?

Still the same age, I guess. Or is it one of the mysteries of the Universe and do I never get to know my age? Am I not 21?

  • Which is worse, failing or never trying?

Never trying. When you try and you fail, at least you have the satisfaction of knowing you gave it a go.

  • If life is so short, why do we do so many things we don’t like and like so many things we don’t do?

Because we have no idea how to spend our time optimally.

  • When it’s all said and done, will you have said more than you’ve done?

That’s quite probably the situation. Although I hope I’d have done at least a bit of it.

  • What is the one thing you’d most like to change about the world?

How we look at each other. How we only see the physical and never bother to ask for what a person’s really like.

  • If happiness was the national currency, what kind of work would make you rich?

Helping people. Which sounds like a cliche answer, but it would make me dangerously happy. Failing that, if I could get rich on happiness from making my cards, that would be good.

  • Are you doing what you believe in, or are you settling for what you are doing?

Half and half. I’m sort of settling in the not making money from writing yet thing. But I truly believe in my writing.

  • If the average human life span was 40 years, how would you live your life differently?

I would live healthy, I would not have wasted years on an education I wasn’t proud of and I would make it my business to travel and meet people.

  • To what degree have you actually controlled the course your life has taken?

Up until a point, I have had control of the course I’ve been taking. But there are things my parents needed to push me in, and things I did with help from others.

  • Are you more worried about doing things right, or doing the right things?

I worry about both an equal amount.

  • You’re having lunch with three people you respect and admire.  They all start criticizing a close friend of yours, not knowing she is your friend.  The criticism is distasteful and unjustified.  What do you do?

I would butt in and just tell them. I am fiercely protective of my friends and I will not take crap about them from anyone. No matter how much I respect and admire the people talking.

  • If you could offer a newborn child only one piece of advice, what would it be?

Learn to love yourself early on. It will pay off in later life.

  • Would you break the law to save a loved one?

Without a doubt. If my mum or dad or my friends were in trouble, I would go very far to save them.

  • Have you ever seen insanity where you later saw creativity?

Of course I have! I see insanity every single day. Every morsel of insane is a spark of creativity waiting to burst into life.

  • What’s something you know you do differently than most people?

Tie my shoelaces. Always have been different at that. Didn’t learn to do so until a later age.

  • How come the things that make you happy don’t make everyone happy?

Because everyone has different happys.

  • What one thing have you not done that you really want to do?  What’s holding you back?

There’s a lot I would like to still do in my life, but going to Australia does stand out. I sort of want to be able to say that I had sex with a Bondi Beach life guard (because seriously, they are HAWT.)

  • Are you holding onto something you need to let go of?

Of course I am. I am holding on to regrets and anger from years ago, that I still haven’t learned to let go of.

  • If you had to move to a state or country besides the one you currently live in, where would you move and why?

I would move to Berlin, because I am in lust with the German language and want to spend some time learning it.

  • Do you push the elevator button more than once?  Do you really believe it makes the elevator faster?

No! I push once and stand back!

  • Would you rather be a worried genius or a joyful simpleton?

What, no joyful genius?

  • Why are you, you?

I am me because of the shared genetics of two lovely people, the things I learned over the years, the experiences I’ve had and will keep having and one hundred percent power of will.

  • Have you been the kind of friend you want as a friend?

In some ways, I haven’t. But I’m learning. I’m learning.

  • Which is worse, when a good friend moves away, or losing touch with a good friend who lives right near you?

Losing touch with a friend who lives near you. If I lost touch with everyone I know here in the UK, I don’t think I would survive. It would be like a part of my bones that went missing.

  • What are you most grateful for?

That there are good people out there who love me as much as I love them.

  • Would you rather lose all of your old memories, or never be able to make new ones?

That’s madness. I would rather lose my bad memories and retain the good ones.

  • Is is possible to know the truth without challenging it first?

Not very likely. The only truths that you can know for sure are the truths within you.

  • Has your greatest fear ever come true?

Nearly. I’ve come close to losing my mother a couple of times, which scared the shit out of me.

  • Do you remember that time 5 years ago when you were extremely upset?  Does it really matter now?

Actually, I do vaguely recall a couple of times I was upset five years ago. But I don’t see these people anymore, so it doesn’t matter.

  • What is your happiest childhood memory?  What makes it so special?

Being on the telly! Those were a wicked couple of days! I got the chance to perform a magic trick on a kids telly show, along with one or two other girls from my class. Fucking ace!

  • At what time in your recent past have you felt most passionate and alive?

I feel most passionate and alive in the throes of passion. Passion gives me this amazing energy!

  • If not now, then when?

Now. Or yesterday, even.

  • If you haven’t achieved it yet, what do you have to lose?

I have nothing to lose except money and dignity, and I’m pretty sure I want to keep at least one of those.

  • Have you ever been with someone, said nothing, and walked away feeling like you just had the best conversation ever?

Yes! Those are some amazing moments!

  • Why do religions that support love cause so many wars?

Because of people who take those religions too seriously.

  • Is it possible to know, without a doubt, what is good and what is evil?


  • If you just won a million dollars, would you quit your job?

I would buy a nice house, and keep my job.

  • Would you rather have less work to do, or more work you actually enjoy doing?

More work I enjoy doing.

  • Do you feel like you’ve lived this day a hundred times before?

I have that Groundhog Day feeling an awful lot…

  • When was the last time you marched into the dark with only the soft glow of an idea you strongly believed in?

When I moved here! I had no idea what I wanted to do, and only the notion of wanting to live in the UK.

  • If you knew that everyone you know was going to die tomorrow, who would you visit today?

Everyone! I would make it my business! Also, stop being so morbid!

  • Would you be willing to reduce your life expectancy by 10 years to become extremely attractive or famous?

Not a chance. I am attractive, I like to think. And I have no need to be famous. I don’t want to let go of 10 years in which I could experience so much just for a bit of empty fun.

  • What is the difference between being alive and truly living?

How you fill your time. You are alive. But are you really using up every bit of time you have to experience what you want to experience? That’s living.

  • When is it time to stop calculating risk and rewards, and just go ahead and do what you know is right?

When it feels that way. The moment you just say “Fuck it. How hard can it be?”

  • If we learn from our mistakes, why are we always so afraid to make a mistake?

Because we’re afraid of the consequences of the potential mistake.

  • What would you do differently if you knew nobody would judge you?

The flat. I would do the flat up in the most chintzy, kitschy way possible.

  • When was the last time you noticed the sound of your own breathing?

Whenever I think I’ve stopped breathing, I tend to notice it.

  • What do you love?  Have any of your recent actions openly expressed this love?

I love life. And I hope that I openly express this just by smiling and being myself.

  • In 5 years from now, will you remember what you did yesterday?  What about the day before that?  Or the day before that?

In five years from now, I will only remember the moments that mattered. The words that touched me. The touches that made me gasp. I will not remember watching a certain show on television, or eating a certain food. I will remember what sticks in the heart.

  • Decisions are being made right now.  The question is:  Are you making them for yourself, or are you letting others make them for you?

I am making them for myself. I hope.

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More Meme Madness

Do you know the weird thing about this post? I done wrote it yesterday. That’s right, I scheduled it. Because I am planning a blog-free day! Because I need it! Because nerrrrr!

Anyway, we continue the meme goodness. Also because nerrrr.


81. If you (and everyone) had to lose one right or freedom, but you could pick which one everyone had to lose, what would you pick?

The freedom to spoil films. Which is not an actual freedom, but fuck it, you don’t get to do that anymore! NERRR!

82. If you had to choose would you live on the equator or at the North Pole?

Can I decide on a happy medium? I don’t like being too hot or too cold.

83. Would you rather give up listening to music or watching television?

Listening to music. I can not live without my telly, which is a very sad thing, but hey. I like switching my brain box off for a few hours to watch shit shows.

84. What do you think makes someone a hero?

Besides the spandex?

Kindness, generosity and being brave.

85. What cartoon would you like to be a character in?

I’d like to be on The Simpsons. Always wondered what that would be like. I could be the wise-cracking shop assistant. Or Lisa’s new class mate. Or a fish with four eyes. That can speak. And is called Robinson Tooting Brown. Or something.

86. Name one thing that turns your stomach:

Carrots and peas.

87. What was the last thing you paid for?

My groceries.

88. Are you a coupon clipper?

No, but I could be one… If I can find coupons, I would be.

89. Get anything good in the mail recently?

A vibrator, porn and a kit for swishing clothes.

90. Which would you rather take as a gym class…dancing, sailing, karate, or bowling?

Dancing. I love to dance!

91. In Star Trek people ‘beam’ back and forth between different places. What this means is they stand in a little tube and their molecules are deconstructed and sent to another tube somewhere else where they are reassembled. Only problem is when the molecules are deconstructed the person is dead. When they are put back together it is only a clone that has all the dead person’s memories. So…

Is the person who gets beamed the same person on both ends?


92. What insects are you afraid of?

Bees and wasps.

93. If you could print any phrase on a T-shirt, what would it say?

*knock knock knock* Penny! *knock knock knock* Penny!

94. What’s the most eccentric thing you have ever worn?

I don’t tend to wear eccentric things…. I’m bland in the wardrobe department!

95. If you could pick one food that you could eat all you wanted but it would have no effect on how much you weigh, what food would it be?

Red velvet cake.

96. What are your parents interested in?

My mum’s interested in African and Eastern art and culture. Dad’s interested in action movies, I think.

97. Have you ever caught an insect and kept it as a pet?


Have you ever caught and tamed a wild animal?

Yes. Many, many years ago, I came across a monkey. He was alone, sad and crying out for a friend. I took pity on him, and took him into my home. We became best friends.

Which is something that sadly never happened. Wow, I’m sad now…

98. What is more helpful to you, wishes or plans?

Plans. Wishes are uncertain. Plans are things you can take steps towards.

99. When do you feel your life energy the strongest?

Deep in my belly!

100. You are spending the night alone in the woods and may bring only 3 items with you. What do you bring?

Flashlight, lilo and book.

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