There were three signs on the bear enclosure:
* DO NOT FEED THE BEARS
* DO NOT TAUNT THE BEARS
* DO NOT USE ASTROTELEPATHIC COMMUNICATION TO ACHIEVE INTERGALACTIC ONE-NESS WITH THE BEARS
The first I could understand, as the diets of captive animals must contain a balanced mix of nutritional ingredients to ensure their comfort and longevity. The second I also understood, as the very thought of unecessarily aggravating or distressing a captive being is anathema to me. The third, however, gave me no small degree of consternation.
What many people do not know about bears is that nothing brings ursa majoras more joy than transcending the metaphysical and projecting their genetic conscious though the tumultuous currents of the unknowable ether. They love it more than the reassuring weight of a salmon beneath their paws as they launch it from the rushing currents of a fresh water stream. They love it more than caves.
I lowered myself into the bear put on an ancient wooden ladder that creaked loudly with every step, the noise stark even against the rustling of leaves as the night breeze caressed every inch of darkness it could touch. As my feet found the reassuring solidity of the hard packed dirt I heard their approach; a chorus of snuffling that grew louder and louder as three lumbering shapes materialised slowly out of the black.
The largest of the three, a huge brute with a pelt of coarse, foul-smelling brown fut reared up before me, dwawrfing me as it perched precariously upright on short, thick legs better suited to it's quadrupedal existence. A low, rumbling growl issued from deep within it's throat, so deep that I could feel it vibrating throughout my entire body. But I was not afraid.
'Wait,' I said, raising my arms with palms held out in a pacifying gesture. The growl began rising to a roar, and beast bared it's teeth in a snarl.
'I mean you no harm, great one. I merely wish to achieve intergalactic one-ness with you.'
All tension fled from the creature as it sank back to all fours and padded amicably to where I stood, followed by it's two companions. We sat in a circle on the ground with the largest bear facing me, the others flanking as they rested on their haunches. We each eached out our hands or paws towards the centre and began to hum or growl very softly depending on species. I closed my eyes and let myself drift on the sounds, breathing in the crisp night time air and inhaling the earthy aromas of the great beasts.
At once I found myself spiralling through conscious existence, my mind linked to those of the bears, witnessing through the astral projection of the genetic memory all that it ever was and ever will be to be bear. From the lowliest cub, runt of the litter, forced to fight to survive on scare scraps of food left behind by it's stronger siblings, to the largest male polar bear who ever lived, an enormous shaggy white king among his kind, scourge of every seal and penguin in his frozen territory and never bested by another living creature. I saw it all.
As the years, then centuries, and even millenia passed I came to know what it is to be a bear. I came to know the joy of breaking open a beehive, to the fear of eagles streaking down from above to rake soft flesh with vicious talons. To forage for berries in the underbush when game is scarce, then to prey on dear and elk, enjoying the bloody warmth of recently dead flesh parting wetly between massive canine teeth. I knew it all, and it was glorious.
Finally, as my journey through time and space seemed to speed up to a spiralling blur, a kaelidoscope of sound, scent and sensation, my mind was cast out into the depths of space where I found myself before the great constellation Ursa Major itself. The sheer scale of the thing was impossible to comprehend, a bear so massive it's very existence was written not in terrestrial flesh and bone, but by a collection of stars held together by sheer will in the unimaginably vast vacuum of a cold, empty universe.
Floating there before it, the void dwelling personification of an entire species, their maker, their God, I was nothing more than a speck of dust far too small to even be recognised as a sentient being. I had never felt so insignificant, and I began to fear that I might not be able to retain my own consciousness in the face of such overwhelming grandeur. Even if I did not lose my mind at being faced with a being composed of all the beauty of not just stars, not just planets, but several entire galaxies shining out in a plethora of light and colour, how could I possibly find my way back to my physical form? For a moment I knew what it was to be truly alone in the universe. And I was afraid.
But then came a low growling deep within my mind, joined by two more undulating voices that grew louder as a felt the link the my companions back on earth strengthen. And suddenly, there they were, the three bears I had formed the circle with, floating next to me in the void, their forms glowing gold and incandescent against the infinite black nothingness of space.
As I gazed around I saw the forms of dozens, and then hundreds more bears appear with us, each shining in a different colour and emitting continuous low growls in harmony with one another. The light became almost too much to bear as the spirit forms of every meditating bear in the universe sought to unite in loving worship of their cosmic deity.
The combined song appeared to reach the great bear itself, and Ursa Major turned it's vast, solar-system sized head, to peer down at her subjects. There, as all of bear-kind gave praise to the mother of their past, present and future, she too began to join the chorus of low growls in a song so beautiful and moving that I felt my throat tightening and my eyes fill with tears. The low humming melody seemed to continue for eons as the burning light of the great-mother's eyes turned to each of her children in turn to offer them her blessing, until her gaze at last landed on me. Yet there was no malice in those eyes, only understanding.
With the merest hint of a nod, I was accepted as a guest, a traveller who had come to experience the essence of bear out of curiosity and respect. At that moment, I knew I would be accepted as a friend to all bears for the rest of my life.
***
A cold breeze caressed my face, waking me from my trance as my conscious returned to it's mortal husk. At once I felt both a great sense of knowing and belonging, yet also a greater sense of loss at having to return to the plain of the flesh after basking in the majesty of such a being. The soft packed earth beneath my hands was both a welcome return to safety, and an unwelcome reminder of the limitations of the mortal coil.
The bears were already moving, shuffling away into the darkness back to wherever they slept. A part of me yearned to follow them, to learn more of their ways, to live out the remainder of my life as I had lived the lives of so many bears during the combining of consciousness before meeting the bear god. Yet I knew that I could not, for although the great mother bear had graced me with her favour, I was still only a guest, a traveller. Although I knew them as perhaps no other human ever had, I could still not be them.
With a sigh, I pushed myself to my feet and began to ascend the rickety ladder back to the world of man.
Monday 20 February 2017
Sunday 10 January 2016
How to Talk to Women
How To Talk To Women: a Guide
Hello, everyone. I know you are all eagerly awaiting Part II of my series about going to see 'How to be Single' and I assure you this is coming but first I wanted to touch on a subject that I felt would be helpful to all my single male friends; talking to women.
I would like to preface this article by warning you that I am incredible at talking to women and that if you are a woman you should not read this as you will probably find yourself extremely seduced by my acute knowledge and flowing vernacular abilities by the end of the article. I am sorry for this in advance.
This article will be broken down into steps to make it easier to demonstrate the process for you to follow. It is important to note that all women are different but basically the same, like the various incarnations of the Power Rangers, so no guide can be too specific. I will attempt to paint the process in broad strokes that will work with most women.
1) Don't talk about that rash on your genitals
A lot of men have difficultly beginning a conversation with a woman they do not know. Before you even start talking to a woman you will likely be asking yourself a lot of questions such as 'what should I say?', 'what should I avoid talking about?', and 'is this thrush or have I contracted a more serious venereal disease?'
Whilst most self-help books about talking to women will agree that subtly drawing attention to your genitals is a great way of sending subconscious signals to women that will cause them to consider not immediately calling for help when you walk over, there is a right way and a wrong way of doing this. For example:
Woman: 'Hello, how are you?'
You: 'I am in some discomfort due to the spreading rash on my genitals which now has some slight bubbling of the skin and looks not unlike a nettle sting on the shaft.'
Wrong! But don't worry, we've all been there. Immediately drawing attention to your genitals was absolutely the correct thing to do when speaking to a woman for the first time, however you need to draw this attention in a more positive way. Next time, try the below:
Woman: 'Hello, how are you?'
You: I am very well, thank you. My genitals are clean and disease free, and also fully operational in the event that our evening should culminate in coitus.'
Much better! You have subtly drawn her attention to your genitals in a positive way and now, no matter how the conversation progresses, in the back of her mind she will be constantly aware of your immaculately hygienic genitals. Good start!
2) Appropriate dancing - initiating contact on the dance floor
Night clubs are a great place to meet women because the low lighting and high levels of noise will go some way to disguising the desperate despair in your hollow, dead eyes and they will probably be unable to hear a lot of the awful things you will try and bellow into their ear.
Once you have selected a woman you are attracted to based on your shallow preconceived notions of female beauty that have been spoon fed to you by popular culture, it is time to approach. The first thing you need to be aware of is that you should definitely not go up to a woman and begin grinding on her. This is creepy and weird, even for you, and your unwanted attention will likely just lead to you being ejected from the night club for being an asshole. But if you can't just walk up to an attractive woman and start grinding on her, how exactly are you supposed to display your sexual interest?
The triangle of power, my friend.
Stand up with your feet shoulder width apart and your arms down by your side. Now bend your elbows so your arms are out 90 degrees in front of you and fingers are all straightened. Now rotate your wrists outwards by about 45 degrees and tilt your head down to look directly at your crotch. Now you are in position, swiftly and forcefully straighten your elbows so your hands move towards your crotch in a V shape, stopping just short of actually hitting yourself in the genitals. Repeat this move continuously whilst wearing an expression of grim determination on your face that lets people know you are serious about the seductive process.
Why is the triangle of power so potent? Because it draws attention to your genitals in a direct but non-threatening way. Unlike grinding on a woman, which admittedly will make them aware of your genitals, the triangle of power will make an attractive woman acutely aware of your genitals in a safe way and act as an invitation for further contact which she will most likely be unable to resist.
You can even combine this step with the step above by first introducing yourself and commenting on the immaculate state of your genitals and then immediately launching into the triangle of power to assist the woman in locating said genitals. The sky really is the limit here.
3) What next?
Congratulations! If you've been following these steps you are almost there! However, the process of seduction is not yet complete. Courting is a two way street and if you are going to engage in coitus you will need to have two sets of functioning genitals involved. At this point the woman you have decided to seduce will be acutely aware of your genitals, but she may be unaware of (or have completely forgotten about) her own. The final link in the chain is reminding the woman that she too has genitals and that you would like to engage in contact with them.
So how do you do this? The best way is to subtly drop female genitalia into the conversation without breaking the flow. There are many ways to do this, the most effective of which is when she asks you about your interests. But you can't just throw it out there or she will think you are an uncultured fool who will be as unstimulating in the bedroom as you are in verbal interplay. Let's look at another example:
Woman - 'What are your interests?'
You - 'Your genitals.'
No, no, no! What is wrong with you? Did you learn nothing from the rash thing? Women are coy, fey creatures who will not appreciate your sexist, misogynist fixation on them as objects of physical appeasement. Your heart may be in the right place but your penis isn't there yet. Try this instead:
Woman - 'What are your interests?'
You - 'Gynecology.'
Nice! Not only have you made her aware of her own genitals, you have also demonstrated your humanitarianism and altruism, as an interest in medical science shows how selfless and committed to the betterment of others you are. Great job! If you're worried about follow up questions on the subject I strongly recommend acquiring a copy of Dewhurst's Textbook of Obstetrics and Gynecology, an essential read if you want to convince women of your expertise in the field. You could even offer to perform an examination for her.
Great work! You have now seduced a woman and by this point in the guide you should be engaging in the ensuing coitus as you read this.
You're both welcome.
Hello, everyone. I know you are all eagerly awaiting Part II of my series about going to see 'How to be Single' and I assure you this is coming but first I wanted to touch on a subject that I felt would be helpful to all my single male friends; talking to women.
I would like to preface this article by warning you that I am incredible at talking to women and that if you are a woman you should not read this as you will probably find yourself extremely seduced by my acute knowledge and flowing vernacular abilities by the end of the article. I am sorry for this in advance.
This article will be broken down into steps to make it easier to demonstrate the process for you to follow. It is important to note that all women are different but basically the same, like the various incarnations of the Power Rangers, so no guide can be too specific. I will attempt to paint the process in broad strokes that will work with most women.
1) Don't talk about that rash on your genitals
A lot of men have difficultly beginning a conversation with a woman they do not know. Before you even start talking to a woman you will likely be asking yourself a lot of questions such as 'what should I say?', 'what should I avoid talking about?', and 'is this thrush or have I contracted a more serious venereal disease?'
Whilst most self-help books about talking to women will agree that subtly drawing attention to your genitals is a great way of sending subconscious signals to women that will cause them to consider not immediately calling for help when you walk over, there is a right way and a wrong way of doing this. For example:
Woman: 'Hello, how are you?'
You: 'I am in some discomfort due to the spreading rash on my genitals which now has some slight bubbling of the skin and looks not unlike a nettle sting on the shaft.'
Wrong! But don't worry, we've all been there. Immediately drawing attention to your genitals was absolutely the correct thing to do when speaking to a woman for the first time, however you need to draw this attention in a more positive way. Next time, try the below:
Woman: 'Hello, how are you?'
You: I am very well, thank you. My genitals are clean and disease free, and also fully operational in the event that our evening should culminate in coitus.'
Much better! You have subtly drawn her attention to your genitals in a positive way and now, no matter how the conversation progresses, in the back of her mind she will be constantly aware of your immaculately hygienic genitals. Good start!
2) Appropriate dancing - initiating contact on the dance floor
Night clubs are a great place to meet women because the low lighting and high levels of noise will go some way to disguising the desperate despair in your hollow, dead eyes and they will probably be unable to hear a lot of the awful things you will try and bellow into their ear.
Once you have selected a woman you are attracted to based on your shallow preconceived notions of female beauty that have been spoon fed to you by popular culture, it is time to approach. The first thing you need to be aware of is that you should definitely not go up to a woman and begin grinding on her. This is creepy and weird, even for you, and your unwanted attention will likely just lead to you being ejected from the night club for being an asshole. But if you can't just walk up to an attractive woman and start grinding on her, how exactly are you supposed to display your sexual interest?
The triangle of power, my friend.
Stand up with your feet shoulder width apart and your arms down by your side. Now bend your elbows so your arms are out 90 degrees in front of you and fingers are all straightened. Now rotate your wrists outwards by about 45 degrees and tilt your head down to look directly at your crotch. Now you are in position, swiftly and forcefully straighten your elbows so your hands move towards your crotch in a V shape, stopping just short of actually hitting yourself in the genitals. Repeat this move continuously whilst wearing an expression of grim determination on your face that lets people know you are serious about the seductive process.
Why is the triangle of power so potent? Because it draws attention to your genitals in a direct but non-threatening way. Unlike grinding on a woman, which admittedly will make them aware of your genitals, the triangle of power will make an attractive woman acutely aware of your genitals in a safe way and act as an invitation for further contact which she will most likely be unable to resist.
You can even combine this step with the step above by first introducing yourself and commenting on the immaculate state of your genitals and then immediately launching into the triangle of power to assist the woman in locating said genitals. The sky really is the limit here.
3) What next?
Congratulations! If you've been following these steps you are almost there! However, the process of seduction is not yet complete. Courting is a two way street and if you are going to engage in coitus you will need to have two sets of functioning genitals involved. At this point the woman you have decided to seduce will be acutely aware of your genitals, but she may be unaware of (or have completely forgotten about) her own. The final link in the chain is reminding the woman that she too has genitals and that you would like to engage in contact with them.
So how do you do this? The best way is to subtly drop female genitalia into the conversation without breaking the flow. There are many ways to do this, the most effective of which is when she asks you about your interests. But you can't just throw it out there or she will think you are an uncultured fool who will be as unstimulating in the bedroom as you are in verbal interplay. Let's look at another example:
Woman - 'What are your interests?'
You - 'Your genitals.'
No, no, no! What is wrong with you? Did you learn nothing from the rash thing? Women are coy, fey creatures who will not appreciate your sexist, misogynist fixation on them as objects of physical appeasement. Your heart may be in the right place but your penis isn't there yet. Try this instead:
Woman - 'What are your interests?'
You - 'Gynecology.'
Nice! Not only have you made her aware of her own genitals, you have also demonstrated your humanitarianism and altruism, as an interest in medical science shows how selfless and committed to the betterment of others you are. Great job! If you're worried about follow up questions on the subject I strongly recommend acquiring a copy of Dewhurst's Textbook of Obstetrics and Gynecology, an essential read if you want to convince women of your expertise in the field. You could even offer to perform an examination for her.
Great work! You have now seduced a woman and by this point in the guide you should be engaging in the ensuing coitus as you read this.
You're both welcome.
Tuesday 5 January 2016
'How To Be Single' Part 1: My Adventures in Anne Summers
I recently posted the following facebook status:
'Saw the poster for 'How to be Single' and dismissed it as another uninteresting chick flick. Then I noticed it stars Alison Brie.
On a scale on 1 - 10 how sad would it be for a 27 year old man to go and see a chick flick alone purely because Alison Brie is in it? Because it's on the cards...'
The resulting replies were a consensus that I should in fact go and see 'How To Be Single' alone, so I will.
The main obstacle facing me is the crippling social awkwardness of being a large, long-haired bearded man looking a member of the cinema staff in a eye and asking for a single ticket to see a film called 'How To Be Single.' This is further compounded by my underlying social anxiety problem which makes even exchanging pleasantries with strangers cripplingly difficult without the benefit of having previously ingested the entire contents of a small bar. All is not lost, however, as I have faced similar difficulties and prevailed.
An ex-girlfriend of mine once told me she'd always wanted to try a Rampant Rabbit so we agreed we would acquire one for her. Or rather, she agreed I would go into Anne Summers alone after work one day and acquire one for her on the way home. Judgemental retail employees be damned.
There were several ways I could have approached this. My natural instinct was to slink in, eyes on the floor and sort of wander through the top floor of lingerie trying not to make eye contact with anyone, pray that the basement floor where all the sex toys was would be empty and ask the lady at the til for help and hope she would feel sorry for me in that 'clueless boyfriend' kind of way.
Unfortunately I am just shy of six feet tall, broad shouldered and bearded, and there is no way I could possibly look inconspicuous walking into a sex shop in the centre of Manchester wearing a suit and a large black coat at five o'clock on a Tuesday afternoon. I imagine the figure I would have cut embracing the awkwardness whilst staring intently at a wall full of dildoes would have been less 'clueless boyfriend' and more 'registered sex offender.'
That left me with option 2; fucking own this. Muster up all the pretend confidence I have and just get shit done like a boss. So I did.
At approximately 17:15 I strode purposefully into the ground floor of the Anne Summers located just outside the Manchester Arndale centre into what I can only describe as a forest of lingerie in pretty much every combination or black, pink, red and purple you can imagine. The two ladies working the til immediately turned to stare at me, so I have them 'the nod', that slight acknowledgement you give someone when you've got shit to do, and ladies, I do not have time to get bogged down in your sales bullshit and half-hearted offers of assistance. I am on a mission. I am here to purchase a Rampant Rabbit and pretend I'm not going to have a minor breakdown, and I am too hyped up on terror-fueled adrenaline to have a breakdown right now.
I stomped across the floor of the shop to assert my dominance which I believe frightened a small middle aged women inspecting of the racks of assorted lace and handcuffs. I wasn't entirely sure where the stairs to the basement were so I just kind of stomped in the vague direction of the back of the shop and prayed they weren't right next to the entrance and that I wouldn't have to turn around and stomp back and try and play the whole thing off as intentional by pretending to look at some fluffy handcuffs or something for a minute before giving the staff 'the nod' again on the way back.
Fortunately my unerring sense of direction led me true and the stairs were in the exact corner I was praying they would be in. I'm honestly not sure how to employ mere words to describe the basement of Anne Summers. Not just how it looked but how it made me feel; isolated, alone, adrift in a sea of latex and anal beads. For one brief moment I yearned for the gaudy lace forest of the floor above, the outside world just a fading memory as the sensorary tidalwave of unbridled femininity crashed over my unprepared mind. But I was not to be stopped.
Anne Summers keep their sex toys in a kind of self contained circular shelving unit at the far end of the basement. When you stand inside it you're not just looking at a single wall of rubber replicas of male genetalia, whichever way you turn they are right there, looking back at you. Mocking you. Judging you. Shaking their engorged heads at your confusion.
I made a bee-line directly for the circle of rubber cocks, again making brief eye contact with the lady on the downstairs til in the hope that I would know like a man who knew exactly what he was doing, which on reflection probably wasn't really what I wanted to go for in this particular situation. What I wasn't prepared for was that there would be a woman already stood browsing in the circle. I can tell you from her swift retreat that she was probably not prepared for a large bearded man to stride into the circle, stand right next to her and start looking the Rampant Rabbit section up and down whilst stroking his beard in a way that I hope came across as 'thoughtful' and not 'eager'.
There was no 'The Bendy One.' Shit. I began picking up and inspecting the various boxes for one that sounded like it could be something like a 'The Bendy One.' This is rookie shopping error 101 but by God I had a mission and dammit people were counting on me so I found one that I figured was more or less the same. Not having a vagina I am not 100% sure on how the various features differ but I figure a spade is a spade; you can paint it different colours and made it vibrate but you're still just going to dig a hole.
Making the purchase would involve verbal contact with the woman at the til. This was the bit I had been dreading but I had decided I was going to own this so I started by trying to make confident eye contact as I slapped the large and not particularly discrete box on the counter.
'Hi,' I began, assertively, 'I was told to get The Bendy One, is this more or less the same thing?'
Flustered and clearly impressed by my confident and direct demeanour, and definitely not terried by how loudly I was talking and the intense way I was staring into her eyes as if trying to read the hidden secrets of her soul, she replied with a kind of affirmative mumble and looked like she might be ready to re-evaluate a lot of the life choices that had led her to this moment.
'Awesome,' I said, and continued to make eye contact. To look away now would be weakness. I would not be cowed by this small blonde avatar of sex shops everywhere. And also I had locked into a kind of mortal terror that meant I had frozen rigid, which body language wise probably looked quite aggressive. I am sorry Anne Summers basement cashier if you ever read this, I only wanted us to be friends.
'We've giving away a free gift bag with every purchase of a toy today, would you like to take one?' she asked with no small measure of trepidation as she began to bag the Rabbit.
No, I thought. 'Yes,' I said.
'We're also offering a promotion if you sign up for our mailing list, ten pounds off your next purchase, would you like to sign up?'
No, I thought. 'Yeah, sure,' I said, writing down my personal contact information out of fear.
'There you go, thank you,' she said, handing me the bag. For a moment I like to think there was a brief moment of connection between the two of us as we both realised how much we really did not want any of this exchange to have occured. I, a large hairy man who had stomped into her sex store, scared several other customers and slammed a big purple dildo onto her counter and started asking her advice about it, and she a small, middle aged woman who was used to selling lubricants and handcuffs to other sexually repressed middle aged women. We were both out of our comfort zones. We did not want this.
I strode out of the store in a manner that might be described as 'fleeing' by those who do not know that I was absolutely rushing to catch a bus home, veiny prizy safely in a giant pink and black bag that read 'Anne Summers' on the side that I spent the entire bus ride home trying unsuccessfully to conceal.
If I can manage that, I think I can manage going to see 'How To Be Single' alone.
'Saw the poster for 'How to be Single' and dismissed it as another uninteresting chick flick. Then I noticed it stars Alison Brie.
On a scale on 1 - 10 how sad would it be for a 27 year old man to go and see a chick flick alone purely because Alison Brie is in it? Because it's on the cards...'
The resulting replies were a consensus that I should in fact go and see 'How To Be Single' alone, so I will.
The main obstacle facing me is the crippling social awkwardness of being a large, long-haired bearded man looking a member of the cinema staff in a eye and asking for a single ticket to see a film called 'How To Be Single.' This is further compounded by my underlying social anxiety problem which makes even exchanging pleasantries with strangers cripplingly difficult without the benefit of having previously ingested the entire contents of a small bar. All is not lost, however, as I have faced similar difficulties and prevailed.
An ex-girlfriend of mine once told me she'd always wanted to try a Rampant Rabbit so we agreed we would acquire one for her. Or rather, she agreed I would go into Anne Summers alone after work one day and acquire one for her on the way home. Judgemental retail employees be damned.
There were several ways I could have approached this. My natural instinct was to slink in, eyes on the floor and sort of wander through the top floor of lingerie trying not to make eye contact with anyone, pray that the basement floor where all the sex toys was would be empty and ask the lady at the til for help and hope she would feel sorry for me in that 'clueless boyfriend' kind of way.
Unfortunately I am just shy of six feet tall, broad shouldered and bearded, and there is no way I could possibly look inconspicuous walking into a sex shop in the centre of Manchester wearing a suit and a large black coat at five o'clock on a Tuesday afternoon. I imagine the figure I would have cut embracing the awkwardness whilst staring intently at a wall full of dildoes would have been less 'clueless boyfriend' and more 'registered sex offender.'
That left me with option 2; fucking own this. Muster up all the pretend confidence I have and just get shit done like a boss. So I did.
At approximately 17:15 I strode purposefully into the ground floor of the Anne Summers located just outside the Manchester Arndale centre into what I can only describe as a forest of lingerie in pretty much every combination or black, pink, red and purple you can imagine. The two ladies working the til immediately turned to stare at me, so I have them 'the nod', that slight acknowledgement you give someone when you've got shit to do, and ladies, I do not have time to get bogged down in your sales bullshit and half-hearted offers of assistance. I am on a mission. I am here to purchase a Rampant Rabbit and pretend I'm not going to have a minor breakdown, and I am too hyped up on terror-fueled adrenaline to have a breakdown right now.
I stomped across the floor of the shop to assert my dominance which I believe frightened a small middle aged women inspecting of the racks of assorted lace and handcuffs. I wasn't entirely sure where the stairs to the basement were so I just kind of stomped in the vague direction of the back of the shop and prayed they weren't right next to the entrance and that I wouldn't have to turn around and stomp back and try and play the whole thing off as intentional by pretending to look at some fluffy handcuffs or something for a minute before giving the staff 'the nod' again on the way back.
Fortunately my unerring sense of direction led me true and the stairs were in the exact corner I was praying they would be in. I'm honestly not sure how to employ mere words to describe the basement of Anne Summers. Not just how it looked but how it made me feel; isolated, alone, adrift in a sea of latex and anal beads. For one brief moment I yearned for the gaudy lace forest of the floor above, the outside world just a fading memory as the sensorary tidalwave of unbridled femininity crashed over my unprepared mind. But I was not to be stopped.
Anne Summers keep their sex toys in a kind of self contained circular shelving unit at the far end of the basement. When you stand inside it you're not just looking at a single wall of rubber replicas of male genetalia, whichever way you turn they are right there, looking back at you. Mocking you. Judging you. Shaking their engorged heads at your confusion.
I made a bee-line directly for the circle of rubber cocks, again making brief eye contact with the lady on the downstairs til in the hope that I would know like a man who knew exactly what he was doing, which on reflection probably wasn't really what I wanted to go for in this particular situation. What I wasn't prepared for was that there would be a woman already stood browsing in the circle. I can tell you from her swift retreat that she was probably not prepared for a large bearded man to stride into the circle, stand right next to her and start looking the Rampant Rabbit section up and down whilst stroking his beard in a way that I hope came across as 'thoughtful' and not 'eager'.
There was no 'The Bendy One.' Shit. I began picking up and inspecting the various boxes for one that sounded like it could be something like a 'The Bendy One.' This is rookie shopping error 101 but by God I had a mission and dammit people were counting on me so I found one that I figured was more or less the same. Not having a vagina I am not 100% sure on how the various features differ but I figure a spade is a spade; you can paint it different colours and made it vibrate but you're still just going to dig a hole.
Making the purchase would involve verbal contact with the woman at the til. This was the bit I had been dreading but I had decided I was going to own this so I started by trying to make confident eye contact as I slapped the large and not particularly discrete box on the counter.
'Hi,' I began, assertively, 'I was told to get The Bendy One, is this more or less the same thing?'
Flustered and clearly impressed by my confident and direct demeanour, and definitely not terried by how loudly I was talking and the intense way I was staring into her eyes as if trying to read the hidden secrets of her soul, she replied with a kind of affirmative mumble and looked like she might be ready to re-evaluate a lot of the life choices that had led her to this moment.
'Awesome,' I said, and continued to make eye contact. To look away now would be weakness. I would not be cowed by this small blonde avatar of sex shops everywhere. And also I had locked into a kind of mortal terror that meant I had frozen rigid, which body language wise probably looked quite aggressive. I am sorry Anne Summers basement cashier if you ever read this, I only wanted us to be friends.
'We've giving away a free gift bag with every purchase of a toy today, would you like to take one?' she asked with no small measure of trepidation as she began to bag the Rabbit.
No, I thought. 'Yes,' I said.
'We're also offering a promotion if you sign up for our mailing list, ten pounds off your next purchase, would you like to sign up?'
No, I thought. 'Yeah, sure,' I said, writing down my personal contact information out of fear.
'There you go, thank you,' she said, handing me the bag. For a moment I like to think there was a brief moment of connection between the two of us as we both realised how much we really did not want any of this exchange to have occured. I, a large hairy man who had stomped into her sex store, scared several other customers and slammed a big purple dildo onto her counter and started asking her advice about it, and she a small, middle aged woman who was used to selling lubricants and handcuffs to other sexually repressed middle aged women. We were both out of our comfort zones. We did not want this.
I strode out of the store in a manner that might be described as 'fleeing' by those who do not know that I was absolutely rushing to catch a bus home, veiny prizy safely in a giant pink and black bag that read 'Anne Summers' on the side that I spent the entire bus ride home trying unsuccessfully to conceal.
If I can manage that, I think I can manage going to see 'How To Be Single' alone.
Tuesday 12 August 2014
Gaz - The World's Sexiest Man
Scattered particles of dust swept around one another as they performed an intimate dance in the rays of morning sunlight that streamed in through the window, bathing the room in a golden glow. Yawning as he rose from his bed, Gaz craned his neck to look out of the window and smiled as he saw the beautiful dawn that seemed to personally greet him. Bald head gleaming, he glanced absent mindedly at the ceiling as he decided what to do with his day.
I know, he thought, I'll become the world's sexiest man.
Climbing from his bed, he made his way to the magic mirror on the wall in the hall.
'Hi dude,' he said to the mirror.
'Hi Gaz,' it replied.
Gaz gazed deep into his reflection and asked, 'Mirror, who is the sexiest man in the world?'
'You are, Gaz,' it replied.
'Aw, cheers mirror,' said Gaz with a smile.
'All the best, Gaz,' said the mirror, as Gaz walked down the hall into the kitchen.
There was a newspaper open on the table, a tabloid piece showing pictures of the latest celebrity styles. Gaz sat down to read. The centerpiece of the article was a picture of Leonado Dicaprio with a newly shaved head and a magnificent beard. The journalist had queried Dicaprio's new look in the article, and the reply read, 'I just, I want to be more like Gaz. Doesn't everyone?'
'Aw, cheers Leo,' said Gaz to the image in the paper. Gaz was pleased with the day so far, he felt he had already accomplished much of what he set out to do. Although the mirror was definitely a lad, he felt he needed a second opinion. He lifted himself out of the chair and knelt on the floor, hands pressed together at the palms as he prayed.
'God, how do I become the sexiest man in the world?' he asked the ceiling. A pure white light that utterly outshone the golden hue of the sun's rays blazed down from the ceiling.
'Gaz,' began a deep, thunderous yet gentle voice that he felt more than heard, 'you cannot become the sexiest man in the world...'
'Oh,' said Gaz, slightly disheartened.
'Because you already are!' finished the ethereal auditory projection of the almighty. Gaz smiled.
'You're also Batman,' added God, and Gaz looked down to see he was dressed in the batsuit.
'And a Jedi,' added the voice, and Gaz saw there was a lightsaber hung on his bat utility belt.
'And the King of Westeros,' God finished, and Gaz noticed a ring with a Stag engraving on his finger.
'Aw, cheers God,' said Gaz.
'All the best, Gaz' said God, and the brilliant white light faded as God returned to his palace on high.
What a lad, thought Gaz of God, as he went to sit on the hard, ridged surface of the sofa in the front room. As he struggled to get comfortable, Gaz wondered if it had been a mistake to commission a mansion and its contents made entirely of lego.
I know, he thought, I'll become the world's sexiest man.
Climbing from his bed, he made his way to the magic mirror on the wall in the hall.
'Hi dude,' he said to the mirror.
'Hi Gaz,' it replied.
Gaz gazed deep into his reflection and asked, 'Mirror, who is the sexiest man in the world?'
'You are, Gaz,' it replied.
'Aw, cheers mirror,' said Gaz with a smile.
'All the best, Gaz,' said the mirror, as Gaz walked down the hall into the kitchen.
There was a newspaper open on the table, a tabloid piece showing pictures of the latest celebrity styles. Gaz sat down to read. The centerpiece of the article was a picture of Leonado Dicaprio with a newly shaved head and a magnificent beard. The journalist had queried Dicaprio's new look in the article, and the reply read, 'I just, I want to be more like Gaz. Doesn't everyone?'
'Aw, cheers Leo,' said Gaz to the image in the paper. Gaz was pleased with the day so far, he felt he had already accomplished much of what he set out to do. Although the mirror was definitely a lad, he felt he needed a second opinion. He lifted himself out of the chair and knelt on the floor, hands pressed together at the palms as he prayed.
'God, how do I become the sexiest man in the world?' he asked the ceiling. A pure white light that utterly outshone the golden hue of the sun's rays blazed down from the ceiling.
'Gaz,' began a deep, thunderous yet gentle voice that he felt more than heard, 'you cannot become the sexiest man in the world...'
'Oh,' said Gaz, slightly disheartened.
'Because you already are!' finished the ethereal auditory projection of the almighty. Gaz smiled.
'You're also Batman,' added God, and Gaz looked down to see he was dressed in the batsuit.
'And a Jedi,' added the voice, and Gaz saw there was a lightsaber hung on his bat utility belt.
'And the King of Westeros,' God finished, and Gaz noticed a ring with a Stag engraving on his finger.
'Aw, cheers God,' said Gaz.
'All the best, Gaz' said God, and the brilliant white light faded as God returned to his palace on high.
What a lad, thought Gaz of God, as he went to sit on the hard, ridged surface of the sofa in the front room. As he struggled to get comfortable, Gaz wondered if it had been a mistake to commission a mansion and its contents made entirely of lego.
Saturday 26 April 2014
6 Relatively Obscure Bands You Should Listen To
It saddens me when talented, hard working people don't get the recognition they deserve for the insane amount of time and energy they put into crafting their music. Here are six bands you should check out for their outstanding musicianship and pure artistic merit.
The Vincent Black Shadow: Female-fronted pop-rock with a lot of jazz influence. Have released two fantastic albums and a couple of decent EPs, and the singer is hot.
Schoolyard Heroes: Female-fronted horror punk with some strong old-school AFI and Misfits vibes. Wonderfully macabre lyrics, and the singer is hot.
VersaEmerge: From Paramore-esque Fuelled By Ramen shenanigans to the later electro-pop, this band is never short of catchy little melodies and big choruses. Also, the singer is hot.
The Birthday Massacre: You can't really go wrong with a bit of 80's pop mashed up with some light industrial metal and a hot singer.
Eyes Set To Kill: Harsh and clean vocals interplay nicely over some solid metalcore courtesy of a really hot singer/guitarist and her hot sister on the bass guitar.
The Academy Is...: Expertly crafted pop-punk meets a touch of post-hardcore fronted by a stunningly attractive female singer.
The Vincent Black Shadow: Female-fronted pop-rock with a lot of jazz influence. Have released two fantastic albums and a couple of decent EPs, and the singer is hot.
Schoolyard Heroes: Female-fronted horror punk with some strong old-school AFI and Misfits vibes. Wonderfully macabre lyrics, and the singer is hot.
VersaEmerge: From Paramore-esque Fuelled By Ramen shenanigans to the later electro-pop, this band is never short of catchy little melodies and big choruses. Also, the singer is hot.
The Birthday Massacre: You can't really go wrong with a bit of 80's pop mashed up with some light industrial metal and a hot singer.
Eyes Set To Kill: Harsh and clean vocals interplay nicely over some solid metalcore courtesy of a really hot singer/guitarist and her hot sister on the bass guitar.
The Academy Is...: Expertly crafted pop-punk meets a touch of post-hardcore fronted by a stunningly attractive female singer.
Blood: The Last Vampire
Synopsis: A teenage-looking girl who is actually a vampire from 1892 infiltrates the educational facilities of a US Army base in 1966 located in Japan in order to assassinate demons who look like young girls but are actually giant evil horse demon things who live off human blood and also there is a transvestite prostitute that is a demon too that grows wings and tries to escape on a plane or something which the heroine sort of kills then possibly revives it, it's kind of hard to tell because it ends abruptly and doesn't really get explained.
The good: The action sequences are stylish and visceral, the 3D effects are implemented subtly and the sound is top notch in creating a pervasive feeling of dread.
The bad: At 42 minutes long there is little in the way of chaff, but there is also no character development and no clear motivation or back-story is given for the protagonist or the villians.
Overall: 6/10
Synopsis: A teenage-looking girl who is actually a vampire from 1892 infiltrates the educational facilities of a US Army base in 1966 located in Japan in order to assassinate demons who look like young girls but are actually giant evil horse demon things who live off human blood and also there is a transvestite prostitute that is a demon too that grows wings and tries to escape on a plane or something which the heroine sort of kills then possibly revives it, it's kind of hard to tell because it ends abruptly and doesn't really get explained.
The good: The action sequences are stylish and visceral, the 3D effects are implemented subtly and the sound is top notch in creating a pervasive feeling of dread.
The bad: At 42 minutes long there is little in the way of chaff, but there is also no character development and no clear motivation or back-story is given for the protagonist or the villians.
Overall: 6/10
Sunday 20 April 2014
Afro Samurai: Resurrection
Afro Samurai: Resurrection
Trailer:
Synopsis: A lone samurai (voiced by Samuel L Jackson) living in sort-of feudal-but-also-highly-futuristic Japan is attacked by a lady with insurmountable breasts (voiced by Lucy Liu, who I had actually forgotten existed) who steals his father's corpse so she can grow a clone of said father and make the titular Afro battle his already-dead father to the death to take revenge on him for mutilating her now semi-undead cyborg brother which somehow also caused the rest of her family to become mutilated and part-cyborg. The stoic, determined Afro must go on a journey in which he murders the shit out of absolutely everyone for any/no reason whilst constantly conversing with his imaginary friend and piecing together the mystery of who is out to get him and why. This is accomplished largely by murdering the shit out of everyone some more.
The good: The animation is stunning and the fight scenes are wonderfully gory, Samuel L Jackson.
The bad: The plot is so convoluted that despite constant exposition I have no idea why anyone does anything in this film. Said convoluted exposition makes the run-time feel at least twice as long as it actually is.
Overall: 3/10
Trailer:
Synopsis: A lone samurai (voiced by Samuel L Jackson) living in sort-of feudal-but-also-highly-futuristic Japan is attacked by a lady with insurmountable breasts (voiced by Lucy Liu, who I had actually forgotten existed) who steals his father's corpse so she can grow a clone of said father and make the titular Afro battle his already-dead father to the death to take revenge on him for mutilating her now semi-undead cyborg brother which somehow also caused the rest of her family to become mutilated and part-cyborg. The stoic, determined Afro must go on a journey in which he murders the shit out of absolutely everyone for any/no reason whilst constantly conversing with his imaginary friend and piecing together the mystery of who is out to get him and why. This is accomplished largely by murdering the shit out of everyone some more.
The good: The animation is stunning and the fight scenes are wonderfully gory, Samuel L Jackson.
The bad: The plot is so convoluted that despite constant exposition I have no idea why anyone does anything in this film. Said convoluted exposition makes the run-time feel at least twice as long as it actually is.
Overall: 3/10
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