Tag Archives: fetish

Our Casual Reader

25 Sep

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One of m’favorite bonus reports in WordPress stats, is the search engine results section where it tells you how people outside of the network or Facebook, have found your blog.  Sometimes they make me straight up laugh out loud.  And then, kinda feel bad.  Because I’m betting that what they THOUGHT they were getting as they clicked on my link, and what they ACTUALLY got were so grossly different that they were too pissed to even smile about it.

…Maybe.

…Or, maybe they are now subscribed readers, who only stay with me because I’m exactly as twisted as they were hoping for when they started their google search that one day.  There is no real way to be sure. But here are a few of my particular favorites used in finding SWAL.  (And my theories on the true purposes they were up to, when they pressed the “search” button.) They are in no particular order.  And their spelling et al, are as entered.

* “Snuggle Pinup”
(Pics of women in underwear hugging the Snuggle Soft bear from those one commercials.  Possibly has a stuffed animal fetish.)

* “Spandex”
(They just bought a “How To Make Your Own Superhero Suit” book, and need to order material in bulk.)

* “She coffee yes”
(A Dom’s “sub,” trying to find the closest coffee cart in the vicinity, while she is mid-whipping him, demanding he get her some caffeine immediately.)

* “I love not camping”
(They just heard a friend’s horror story of THEIR trip, and wanted to plant a meme on FB about how awesome it is to not be them.)

* “Girl pees for ass”
(A golden shower/butt man.  Boy was he disappointed when he clicked the link.)

* “Weight lifting wedding cake toppers”
(A tiny figurine wherein the Bride is bench-pressing the Groom. And I bet they eventually found one.)

* “Sexy lady flagellation”
(Pictures of naughty nuns, undergoing self discipline.)

* “Dame Wars”
(Possibly looking for spoof Mexican Fighting videos wherein Helen Mirren, Judi Dench and Maggie Smith take turns beating the shit out of one another.  Hold on. I’m gonna go google that too…it sounds awesome.)

* “End of an era young and restless”
(Fan sites with posting boards where people can wail in type about the loss of their whole noon-day purpose in life. They are now one of my most avid readers.)

* “She was too fucked up in her head”
(Clearly looking for a song lyric. That one about a psycho ex-girlfriend. They are STILL trying to narrow the search down right now, from 50 billion results.)

* “Gigolo want for wife”
(An Italian man is trying to get an American Visa the old fashioned way. I tried to reply once, but I don’t have enough funds to keep him in the living style to which he wants to be accustomed.)

* “Sneezing + feet fetish”
(Searching for a very specific fetish group wherein members sit around snurfing things up their noses to induce sneezing while taking turns painting each other’s toenails.)

* “Dorothy Parker love snarks”
(Whoever they are, I want them to woo me. But they are too busy making fun of wooing to do it.)

* “Cooking torture”
(S&M techniques involving hot frying pans, searing oils, how to convert onion layers into contact lenses, and various uses for wasabi and ghost chilies.)

* “Sally Field Audrey Hepburn lesbian”
(A severely specific fetish group – containing only the one member – looking for anyone…anyone…ANYONE who might like to share in their fan fiction delights.)

* “Consumer fury”
(Super stressed-out YouTubes of customers just letting it rip on weeping sales clerks, as caught on camera phone. Because they just lived that frustration and need to acknowledge it before they accidentally explode and do it for real.)

* “Agatha christie & then there were nun murder mystery”
(The well known cult fan fiction retelling of all Agatha Christie murder mysteries relocated in convent setting, featuring an array of postulents, novices and Mother Superiors from different orders. + Spoiler alert: the “Priest” always “did it.”)

* “50th kitchen pin ups”
(Remember that movie about all those older women in Yorkshire who got together, took off their clothes, and did a naked picture calendar to raise funds for a Hospital? It’s like that. Only themed around cooking and kitchen utensils.)

* “Sad flagger”
(That one website with pictures of depressed and zombiefied road workers, taken by motorists waiting in the line-up, via their cellphones.)

* “I’m crying out, loud loud to my father, cos he only knows”
(That beat rapper poem. You know. The one about crying. Out loud. Out loud. Cos my Father? HE knows!)

* “Happy Birthday fucked up”
(Some dude wants to throw his buddy a BD party, but wants that shit to come unglued…even more than those “Girls Gone Wild” bus parties. Otherwise he woulda typed, “Happy Birthday Co-ed Boobs”)

* “Pin up fruit seller”
(A foodie who likes to enact Adam & Eve scenarios in the bedroom. “Apples for sale, sir…penny a bite”)

…And all these sick-twisted people somehow managed to find this blog. Pretty wondrous, ain’t it?

Am so proud, my buttons are popping.

~D

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Fingers, Feet & Fetish

5 Sep

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After a long day back at work, with month-end closings, and Holiday sells analysis and blah-blah-blah-blah…how about we get back to the basics? A few flashes into the rest of m’day, to carry with you:

Long walk looking at posh houses with Ma.  I think they have their lawns cut with hair clippers. They also all have mullioned windows breeding like ancient rabbits. If you wanna make a lot of money, you should move here and take up window washing.  It could be very lucrative. Or maybe I will.  Shut up. I told you nothing. It was my idea the whole time.  I have it in writing, so remember that.

…Eating warm falafel pieces with homemade tomatillo salsa, from The BFF’s oven.  This is my second dinner for the night, so I guess it’s good that I did all that walking before.  Chickpeas are yum, but I like their other name “Garbonzo beans” better.  I think cuz it sounds like Gonzo. Which is both my favorite kind of journalism and Muppet. A coincidence?  I think not.

…On a whim, we suddenly decide on the frozen yogurt bar.

She picks pistachio. (She’s wrong, but I love her anyway.)  I get the vanilla and caramel mix.  With marshmallows.  She saves hers.  I eat mine like it doesn’t matter how much shit I’ve already consumed for the day. 

…We sit at The BFF’s house…me: flipping through a 1930’s intelligence book on fingerprinting as The BFF picks at her feet.  She has monster calluses from Kickboxing.  I have monster interest in old paper and weird research fetishes.

Me: (from behind book.) “Did you know you can’t permanently destroy your fingerprints?  Even with burning and acid?”

The BFF: (frowning at her foot in closeup as she picks.) “Huh.”

Me: (still behind book.) “The ridges just grow back.  Six months later. Here, look…there are totally pictures.”

…I don’t even show her the page.  Why should she get to see all the good stuff just cuz I find it?  Even if it is her book. 

She grabs some scissors.

Me: (looking up at the flash of metal.) “Um, what the hell are you doing?”

The BFF:  “It’s just for the dead stuff.  It’s crazy…feel my calluses.  Feel ’em!  Feel ’em!”

…She waves her Flinstone feet in my face, which I refuse to touch on principle.  They are all gnarly on the bottoms like she has a third career in firewalking.  Which she might.  She does a shit-ton of things on a daily basis, and I can’t possibly be responsible with keeping up on ’em all.

…”I have nothing to blog about tomorrow,” I say, while returning to the book.

“You can always talk about me picking at my feet, while we listen to Tom Waits…”

(P.S. We are listening to Tom Waits. On vinyl.)

…”That’s just stupid,” I say, turning the page.  “Why in the hell would I write about that?”

The BFF shrugs and I start reading about this one guy.  It’s all about fingerprint ageing, following this one dude from twenty, through forty and into eighty.  They all look exactly the same.  “These fingerprints all look exactly the same,” the book says.

…And this gets me to thinking.  Mostly about how to get the skin cells on fingertips to replicate all over the body…cuz then we would never change in appearance or age.  Ever.  I consider making this research my new career for the good of all mankind.  Then I remember my first period Chemistry class in High School, and decide that if it’s up to me, mankind is basically just fucked.

…Unless you guys wanna get in on this. In which case, my fee-cut is a very reasonable 20%.

Me: (putting down the book.) “Doesn’t your Kickboxing class start in like five minutes?”

The BFF: “Twenty.”

…I sigh heavily as I lay there exhausted, from looking at pictures, and curing aging and rich people’s dirty windows.

“I need a nap,” I announce, as I heave myself from the couch.  “Call me later.”

…The BFF answers without looking up, with a sound that I know means, “sure/maybe/whatever,” as I walk out the door.

Once home, I put on “Alias” again. Because I can’t help myself.

Season two.  Near the end.  Don’t spoil it for me or I’ll have to kill you.

…I turn abruptly, and bang my fucking knee on the the same fucking edge of the fucking coffee table that I do every goddamn day.  The bruises have never healed since I first brought the fucker home, six years ago.  In the end, it’ll prob’ly be the thing that cripples me.

…I take it out on a pillow.  He takes it like a man. I plow into the couch, and press “play.”

As the last episode wrap-up begins, I look at my laptop in the corner there, and my brain begins to chant.

My Brain: “what-to-write, what-to-write, what-to-write…?”

I think of a finger, dressed like Sherlock Holmes, who solves crimes primarily via errant prints. Maybe it’s a children’s series.  Or something like Sponge Bob which applies to grown-ups with dependency issues.  This would double my viewership, easily.  Then I think of The BFF picking her feet to Tom Waits poetry.

I take the lesser of two evils and just fucking commit…like a Gonzo journalist should.

…Sometimes, it’s all you have.

…That, and a whole lot of expletives.

~D

She’s Branding

28 Aug

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I feel like I just bought a cow and poked a searing hot branding iron at her ass.

She Writes A Little, now has it’s own dedicated Email and Facebook page with a line-up of materials coming your way should you choose to partake in them.  Mostly, I haven’t done this yet because I’ve been terrified since the last “outing,” that someone would sniff me out again.  But I think I’ve got the matter handled, secured and ready to launch out into the webosphere.

…The other “hold-back,” was what in the hell I’d do with a dedicated Email and FB page once I got them. 

This is the part where I drop heavy hints to people who might want to hire me to write things.  Don’t feel shy.  You should really give me a buzz and we can talk.  I can write serious, academic, literary, script and research article stuff too, you know.  I’d prove it by showing you my resume, but that would kinda blow my cover a little bit.  So you’ll just have to take my word for it.

…Meanwhile, as I anxiously await the many job opportunities blowing up my email inbox even now, I’d like to shift focus to the FB page a moment, if you will.

I’ve spent hours (2), tonight on my couch, deriving a cunning plan wherein scheduled materials will crop up on it, each and every day. Each day of the week will have a special post all it’s own, having nothing at all to do with the blog…(only sometimes)…and may or may not help me think of further writing ideas to expand upon, so as members you may or may not get a super special insider peek. It will be themed like this:

SWAL’s Facebook Datebook

Mon – Dames We Dig
(Dames we love and why. Inspiration in spades, these chicks got it to spare.)

Tues – Books To Read
(Book list favs from Hollywood, and bios and theatre and history. If I love it, you’ll love it…I mean, my God, we’re practically twins.)

Wed – Mmmmen We Love
(Famous fellas who get it done right, and why. With special emphasis on boys who have voices you could lick like a spoon. )

Thurs – Strange story of the day
(Weird but true news items or personal anecdotes in tiny blips. Like your own little Freak Show ticket, every week.)

Fri – Fetish Feast
(People, theatre, food, film, and lit within the fetish world. I am dedicated to searching it out…no matter what gross pop-ups thusly occur.)

Sat – Sins We Partake
(Bad-for-you or naughty favorite booze, places, delectable dishes, naughty reads, and “didja knows.”)

Sun – Saving Graces
(Quiet retreats, mental clean up, relaxing movies, books, happy place listings of “the greatest hits.”)

…At some point I’m prob’ly gonna need to come up with a better pen name, as well. Because “SWAL” prob’ly won’t sell a whole hell of a lotta books. It sorta sounds like the acronym to a disaster relief fund or hybrid disease or something. Maybe I’ll hold a contest to name me…like MGM did for Joan Crawford. And then I’ll thank the winner personally in my hypothetical book when it’s published. And maybe ship them some of this:
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…Because I’m a hell of a lot nicer than Joan Crawford ever was. All she ever gave out was sex and wire hanger welts.*

~D

* Note to self: Cross reference Crawford under Thursday through Saturday. And maybe Monday. I mean, lets be real.

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