Plenty on Christmas to come. Let’s just say that in York, PA, every Christmas is a white Christmas. For now I am much too tired to write about it, but I do want to get down a few thoughts I had before the twenty-four hour marathon of family mayhem began.
In the past week I had a couple of nice little jolts of inspiration. I want to submit something new to the sex issue of Smile, Hon, but the story that I intended for it, the woman-sucks-her-own-toe story, ended up far too long, and I can’t come up with a good way to excerpt it down to two thousand words.
So, I asked for a new story to arrive, and first I got some inspiration:
My new favorite erotic writer dished out this story about sin, and also this story, which is just plain breathtaking. She writes sex the way I would write sex if I were better at writing sex.
Then, there was Trixie and Monkey’s Holiday Spectacuthon, which was both hilarious and naughty. If all women were as hot as Michelle L’Amour, I probably would have to be gay.
Anyhow, the story is on its way. Something about closed-captioning, and a peacock tattoo (and no, it’s not about NBC). I have two images in my head: a peacock tattoo on a woman’s back with a man’s hand fanned out over it, following the lines of the feathers; and the conflict of fantasy showing up as closed-captioned TV, with the image running on the screen and the captions revealing the corresponding negative thoughts – guilt, shame, etc. I need to rest on it for a night, and see where it takes me.
If I can make this work, I will have much more patience for being forced to face the row of TVs when I am on cardio equipment at the gym. Which reminds me, I have learned a few things from my recent, forced TV watching:
1. Jim Carey has tripled in size.
2. If you’re a woman, and you’re going to be on the Jerry Springer Show, wear flats, because heels will put you at a disadvantage in the inevitable fisticuffs.
3. With the sound off, all twenty-four hour news outlets look exactly the same, regardless of the political proclivities of their target demographic. And, good lord, how appalling is it that news has a demographic?
