Love’s not the way to treat a friend.
I wouldn’t wish that on you. I don’t
want to see your eyes forgotten
on a rainy day, lost in the endless purse
of those who can remember nothing.
Love’s not the way to treat a friend.
I don’t want to see you end up that way
with your body being poured like wounded
marble into the architecture of those who make
bridges out of crippled birds.
Love’s not the way to treat a friend.
There are so many better things for you
than to see your feelings sold
as magic lanterns to somebody whose body
casts no light.

Richard Brautigan

mad scientist

February 9, 2020

AS a kid of thirteen or fourteen I had two main career ambitions on leaving school. Firstly, become a retired bank manager (didn’t work out for obvious reasons). Secondly, take on the role of mad scientist (perhaps I had in mind Seneca’s ‘Nullum magnum ingenium sine mixtura dementiae fuit’ – ‘There was never a great genius without a touch of madness’) and become a new Victor Frankenstein, or Rotwang, or even Doctor Septimus Pretorius. Create chaos, wrap brains in metal trays, remove heads and keep them alive independent of their bodies. In a laboratory (that also happened to be full of bondage gear) I could perform increasingly dark experiments on all those who’d upset me in life…mostly school teachers, a few cold-hearted girls and the school bully.

Wonderful fantasy.

When I finally left school, I went to France and lived in Paris. I worked part-time as slave labour in the stinking kitchen of a tatty bistro. At night I wrote. Often I wrote ‘horror’ stories about mad scientists performing terrible experiments. In one of these stories, a beautiful woman with her head surgically removed was artificially stimulated to an “an orgasm of the mind” every thirty seconds for the rest of her very short life. That woman, the victim who died of pleasure, was based on my old school mistress (heroine of so very many masturbatory fantasies – not just mine, but most of the upper sixth). And I confess writing it was extremely pleasurable. So, if I couldn’t be a mad scientist, at least I could write about them –

Literature is an uttering, or outering, of the human imagination. It lets the shadowy forms of thought and feeling – heaven, hell, monsters, angels and all – out into the light, where we can take a good look at them and perhaps come to a better understanding of who we are and what we want, and what the limits to those wants may be. Understanding the imagination is no longer a pastime, but a necessity; because increasingly, if we can imagine it, we’ll be able to do it.

Margaret Atwood
Aliens have taken the place of angels
The Guardian, Friday June 17, 2005


February 9, 2020

I love revisions….We can’t go back and revise our lives, but being allowed to go back and revise what we have written comes closest.

Katherine Ann Paterson
A Sense of Wonder


February 9, 2020

Faith is a wonderful thing. It makes the unbelievable believable.

Too heavy

February 9, 2020

His sex is almost too heavy to lift. His wife can carry it for a while.

Elfriede Jelinek

Dogging Etiquette

February 9, 2020

In the act of dogging, there are participants who are actively dogging, and others, the watchers, who are observing what is going on.

As dogging has become more popular, a certain set of rules, a dogging etiquette, has developed, which continues to evolve.

The following are some of the widely recognised dogging signals you should be aware of:

Flashing headlights or brake lights – are there any other doggers nearby?

Interior light on – we want to be watched.

Window half down – oral sex is on offer.

Window fully down – touching and fondling is allowed.

Door open – full sex is on offer.