Sliding doors…

I was organizing accommodation for various people so they could leave the office thus leaving me in peace…no wait…that’s not it…they had to do business stuff far away out of the office, again leaving me in peace. Anyway I had to organize stuff in one town that I lived in for a short period as a kid. My father was in the army. Like most Army brats we travelled a lot. We saw a lot. We learnt a lot – fast. As I scrolled through the various internet sites for this town, lots of memories came back and I wondered what my life would have been like if we had settled in one place and never moved. No, it’s not realistic but it was interesting to ponder how I would have changed, who I would have missed out on meeting and would I, in essence, be any damn different to what I am now. As a friend and I often say ‘it’s just another sliding door moment….’

Condoms...

So I was at Woollies – Woolworths Supermarket for non Aussies – and I was in the personal care aisle buying a specific L’Oreal night cream – because I’m worth it – and it was on sale so I was extra worth it - and there were 7 boy teenage boys a bit further down the aisle discussing condoms. Seriously. They were taking packets down – they’re always on the top shelf – and reading the merits of each. They were deadly serious in their research. I had to go past them, and they stepped aside respectfully, possibly scared I would run them down because I had the edgy after work look, and I said ‘school project boys?’ because there was major discussion going. Several went red and I just said ‘Good for you. We don’t have enough real men around.’

Condoms? Up to you whether you use them. I’m not about to preach but it was good to see these guys, undoubtedly horny as hell, were taking sex seriously. Maybe the future isn't screwed...er...or will be...carefully.

Shudder...

I had a dream that made me wake up in a horrible fright. It was ghastly. Wrong. Frightening. I was having sex with someone I knew that I really don’t gel with at all in every day life. In fact they drive me nuts with their anality and frankly I try real hard to avoid them because I generally want to head butt them. Don’t you hate dreams like that? The 'what the fuck' feeling stays with you all day. Shudder…ick and puke...

Censorship is bollocks...

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2012/02/legal-censorship-paypal-makes-habit-deciding-what-users-can-read

http://www.scribd.com/doc/83549049/NCAC-ABFFE-Letter-To-PayPal-eBay-re-Ebook-Refusal-2012

"Freedom of speech means that you shall not do something to people either for the views they have, or the views they express, or the words they speak or write." Hugo L. Black, U.S. Supreme Court Justice 1963

Damn straight Hugo...

Nicked off Facebook...

“Well...today's shocking revelation is that Amazon allows sellers, who you have given negative feedback to email you and offer you a cash enticement to take your negative review down!!!!”

Do I believe this? It seems silly enough to be true. Would I give money to someone to retract their negative feedback? I’d have to give a damn first. Writer Rule number one – or it should be – some people will hate what you write. Writer Rule number two - develop a thick skin. Don't ask for retractions. Toughen up. General Rule Number three – don’t email a writer and ask for money back. It's tacky. If you didn't like the writer's style then move on. You're not going to like everyone. General Rule number four - one exclamation mark is enough. We get it. If you're that alarmed by what you read then do something more than put it on facebook for people to 'like.'

Okay, that's about the only rules I adhere to...

Got it...

Years ago when the movie The Bridges of Madison County first came out I watched it and thought, like many other women at that time, “Get out of the car and go to him. Don’t miss out on the love of your life.” When she didn’t get out of the car and she stayed with her husband and let probably the only man who would ever really know her go, I decided it was a dumb movie and I’d never watch it again. But I did, just recently, and being older and a tad wiser, I understood more what was going on. Just because you need somebody doesn’t mean they can ever be a part of your life. I get it. Life does not work out neat and pretty and you deny need because, at the time, despite the pain, it’s the right thing to do. Sometimes you can’t have the person you need. Life is not a happily ever after romance story. Maybe that's why we rely on the fantasy of them so much because the reality is hard. Yes, a profound thought considering there is no coffee in the house….

Sausage-fest...

I’ve been thinking about something someone mentioned over lunch on Friday. They were talking about a phone application where single men and women can hook up for sex. It was quoted as being a ‘sausage-fest’. Couple of thoughts struck me about this, in light of the current erotica-is-apparently-bad-for-you debate in ebookland where books on sausage-fests abound, it makes you wonder about the sale and use of such an application. Reading erotica is bad but hitting a button on your phone and ordering stranger sex isn’t. I also wonder about AIDS. Remember years ago when AIDS was at the forefront of deciding if you’d have sex, with who, how and what layer of latex was best? I don’t see the discussion or debate around anymore. Have we become complacent? And as for romance? Personally, I think you can do what you like with your life, your body and your thoughts but dialling a booty call with an unknown ‘sausage’ is really not romantic is? Maybe I’m getting old…or maybe I want more – a lot more – and random sausage ain’t it.

Exactly...

....Some days you just can't get rid of a bomb...words to live by.

I woke up this morning ...

....to various emails about ‘what is happening to erotica?’ – and - the need to ‘defend erotica.’

What is happening to erotica? Stuffed if I know. It seems it’s a case of looking for ‘reds under the beds’. Those who write it are pissed at the sudden puritan morality that seems to have struck ebook land. Fucking hell people, its sex in a story. It cannot hurt you unless you go out and actively do something stupid and sexually impossible and let’s face it erotica is just that. Fanatsy. A kink. A thrill and nine times out of ten bloody impossible scenarios. See Jane have ménage/bondage sex with five shapeshifter wolves. See Jane have fun. See Jane get tired…very, very tired from aching legs and a sore back. See Jane ask the wolves to stop moulting or shave more. See Jane decide it’s all too hard having sex with hairy wolves and she has sex with cowboys…see Jane get spur marks...seriously, if Jane is that stupid then no one can help Jane. No one can blame erotica for the actions they choose to take. Woman up. You have sex with wolves? That’s your choice. The author didn't make you do it.

Erotica cannot hurt paypal, credit card companies, book depositories or those with starched knickers and closed minds. The call from some authors is 'defend erotica.' No, I see no reason to defend it. If I did I would have to defend dildos, cock rings, lingerie, alcohol, strippers, Thunder from Down Under, burlesque, marriage, waxing, drugs, movies, back seats of cars, sexy men, deep and meaningful looks and sexy words from a person's lips. All of that can lead to sex. As for being told not to link the current slamming of erotica with censorship? Excuse me, but I come fully formed out of the box with my own opinions and beliefs and being ‘told’ to do something makes the whole censorship issue valid. I issue a polite ‘Bugger off’ to that.

Erotica – love it, hate it, legs closed or open, come or don’t come, imagine or refuse to, sex/no sex, read it, chuck it, moralize over it or don’t give a crap. This is just a storm in a tea cup that will blow over when ebook profits go down and the thinking turns back to selling more erotica because monetary greed beats sexual need.

Not too shabby…

So I was a boot camp this morning and we were all lying on the grass at the Cairns Esplanade with our legs in the air, stretching calf muscles, hamstrings and doing leg things that were torturing our abs. Anyway, in between sweating and grunting, I looked up at my lycra covered legs and I thought to myself, ‘you know, you’ve got good, straight pins for a chunky gal.’ I was quiet impressed with myself as I had never considered my legs before. They look pretty good at that angle. I must consider viewing the world like that more often. See? In the midst of pain and sweat there’s always a bright side.

Dear Indie Author....

Dear Indie Author,

We have made a decision to no longer maintain most indie author accounts at BookStrand.com. Therefore, we are deactivating all titles associated with your account and no new uploads will be accepted. Your final distribution payment will be disbursed to you within 30 days and your account will be closed. During this time you will still be able to access your sales report from your account.

BookStrand will focus on its core business by servicing accounts of publishers with clear submission and publishing guidelines that best serve our targeted audience. Our customer base was successfully built on this premise, and it's time to go back to our roots.

While we understand you may be disappointed in losing a distribution outlet for your work, there are still several outlets that currently accept self-published titles. We wish you the best in your endeavors.

Sincerely,

XXXXX
BookStrand.com

Well here’s the thing Bookstrand, I already deactivated my account so deactivating something that no longer is valid seems like an overkill to me. Added to that you have killed off a lot of good Indie authors who have written many great stories that have nothing to do with sex. Did I mention OVERKILL?

Freedom of speech and equality – you don’t got it. Equality in publishing is not about censorship. But hey, they’re your rules and you don’t have to believe in freedom and equality if you don’t want to.

And going 'back to their roots'? It fascinates me that Bookstrand is the home of one woman getting taken/shagged/fucked by five men – usually shapeshifters/cowboy - stories. This is okay apparently and it’s not obscene regardless of what sexual practice is used against the one woman. Double standards much?

Funny old world ebook publishing.

Wankers R Us....

So I rang the ATO – Australian Taxation Office – aka Anal People Unite – as last year I paid too much tax and receiving a tax instalment letter telling me I should again pay too much seemed a tad odd to me. After the usual press 57 buttons, drink a cup of coffee, swear at government departments and their on hold music while going through the receipts in my purse, I got this woman who basically indicated that yes, I did pay too much last year and yes they expected me to pay in advance again. Why? Well, you’ll get a tax refund next year. But I want to use MY money now. Well, you can’t. Why not? Well, we’ve set it up so you have to pay. Okay then – change it. Oh we can’t do that. That means we have to vary it and varying it means you’re trying to not pay your taxes and you’ll get penalized and have to pay a fine. Fined for not overpaying when I don’t have to? Correct – you don’t want to cheat the government do you? I said have you listened to anything you’ve just said to me? Her response was that she didn’t have to. She was employed to tell me the regulations and that if I didn’t overpay I’d be a tax cheat. Riiiight. I have to overpay so dole bludgers and 17 year old baby making machines don’t have to get a job. No, naturally I’m not accepting that. I escalated the complaint. The staff member said I shouldn’t do that. Why not? Because you’re not supposed to. My response? Honey, I do lots of stuff I’m not supposed to. Wankers.

Conspiracy theory or a load of bollocks?

I say bollocks to the explanation that indie authors and publishers get their books banned or pulled because paypal or credit card companies do not want consumers buying contentious stories yet you can buy dildos, cock rings, vibrators, anal toys and god knows what else with your paypal and credit card. I think it’s always easier to blame someone else. It makes the one who is placing blame look like they have no choice. The vast majority of people in the Western word always have a choice. If you object to something on moral grounds then say it. Don’t hide behind piss weak excuses.

I do believe that the rise of indie authors and publishers is pissing off some people. Too bad, so sad I say. Modern technology gives people – writers – choices. Be confined within the limits of what someone else dictates? Or do what you know and believe is right and in doing so avoid all the bollocks? And banning books or stories? Censorship only enhances the allure of those stories. Thank you so much for that.

Wherever there’s a will, there’s a way.

Not liking Stevie...

When I was a kid, The Mary Tyler Moore show used to be on TV. She was the preppy woman who was always perky and pretty and tried to do everything right. Even as a kid I knew that was wrong. I liked her neighbour Rhoda - different, mouthy and streetwise.

Anyway, a situation came up yesterday that reminded me of that TV show. I can’t remember the story in full but Mary had to deal with this kid called Stevie whom everyone liked and thought adorable. She didn’t and that was hard for a good girl who wanted to do everything right and upset no one. In the end, she had to break down and admit out loud that despite everyone else liking this ratshit kid, she didn’t. It was a bold move for Mary.

Here’s what I think – to hell with being politically correct and worrying about what others think. If you don’t agree with something, say it. Nothing ever gets changed until you do. If you don’t like someone forced upon you as someone you must like? Say “I don’t like Stevie” and don’t compromise your comfort for another’s.

Me? I spoke those immortal words and shocked quite a few. As for that 'Stevie'? He shut up and sat down.

Exactly...

Love is a grave mental disease ~ Plato

Blah magic...

So, I had been feeling pretty damn down lately due to various reasons I don’t want to go into. I was dragging my arse around and wondering the point of a lot of things and when I looked in the mirror all I could see was this dreadfully plain looking woman and that didn’t help. The plain thing
isn’t new. I’ve been plain for years and accepted that as a fact. It’s just when you’re feeling emotionally blah and crap, looking like Olive Oyl’s fat sister doesn’t help. Then I went to my regular hairdressing appointment today. And magic happened. No, it’s not the colouring, chemicals and cutting etc. It’s just dealing with professional people who understand that you want more out of who you are. You don’t have to explain stuff to them. They know why you’re there.

I feel better. Not great. But better. Feeling down? Don’t look to friends that you have to explain everything to especially when you can't. They’re probably never going to get it as they’re too close to you. Go to the hairdresser. They get it.

Read one, read ‘em all…

So I had been reading this series from a well known best selling author. It’s a load of bollocks. Why? Because in all 6 books the heroine is exactly the same – in huge trouble, delicate like fine porcelain yet can fuck like a hooker and can tame terrible beasts just by touching them with a hand – you know, before the hooker thing. The hero is tortured, angst ridden, no one will ever understand him and he has a sexual appetite that would scare an elephant. The books are so bloody predictable that I cannot get more than half way through book 3. This begs the question…actually several. Do we buy these books because of the hype and are sucked in by advertising? Do women, predominantly, want to read the same story over and over because it is predictable and they don’t have to think about complex scenarios? Are we so desperate to read hot sex scenes that we’re not particularly worried about an actual plot? How they hell do these writers get away with it? Good luck that they do as they’re making money and I cannot disrespect that. But seriously? Are we that brain dead as readers that we don’t care anymore? Just slap a best seller banner on the front and have 6 stories in a row where either a misunderstood, loner heroine or a gay man, in desperate trouble, is going to be protected from the local bullies and shagged senseless by 5 interchangeable cowboys/shapeshifters/vampires who ‘know what’s best for her/him.’

We seem to have lost the plot.

Head job...

So there’s this manager type person at work who wants to get inside my head. Why? Probably some psychological bullshit to justify his existence in the office and point me out as odd and unusual – I am – and to make himself seem normal when in reality he wants to sit in a corner and suck his thumb because life scares him as he feels like he’ll never be good enough. See? I studied Psychology in University. I have a BA in it. What that means is I can dazzle people with technically Freudian penis envy type statements to leave them wondering about who they are, do they need a penis and what time does the bar open and “can I bring Noel, my duck?” That’s psychology for you. Make people believe they have a problem them slug them heaps of money to solve it. Noel is a good name for a duck…

Anyway…where was I? Oh yes – the head job person. I have explained to him that he is intruding in stuff that has nothing to do with him and that worlds could collide if he insisted on his course of action to understand me – better to back off and buy a duck called Noel.

Want to head job someone? Think down and leave the upstairs alone because no one has to explain themselves to you.

Nudie Run...

Mother-of-seven regrets going nude on Greyhound bus, which results in a good behaviour bond.

http://www.couriermail.com.au/news/queensland/mother-of-seven-regrets-going-nude-on-greyhound-bus-which-results-in-a-good-behaviour-bond/story-e6freoof-1226265846292?from=public_rss

I don’t understand nudie runs. Why? What for? Freedom? Self expression? Pissed as a newt? Nothing good ever comes of it.

And I absolutely do not understand cooking in the nude…talk about hair in food…yeeesh…

Goodliness…

....I’m in the pursuit of it at the moment. No, it doesn’t mean I’m going to shut up and not say what I think or not do what I want nor do actual work during work hours. Come on. Get real. Let’s not get crazy. All that would kill me. I’m trying to transform my Greco-Roman ruins body into a temple that doesn’t have doom in the title. To this end I’m running and eating fish. Lots of it...no, not fried...the fish that is...as for the running? I'm mainly frazzled and sweaty.

No, not preaching at anyone. I’m just an ordinary yet fantastically, amazing woman who is making some changes. Benefits of eating fish? Cows grin at you. Go on. Make a cow happy.