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Wednesday, 30 September 2009

Curses…foiled again…

I may be slightly feral at the moment - you know, in that I'll-rip-your-face-off-and-then-burst-into-tears-if-you-piss-me-off-kind-of-way. Lordy, it's exhausting and I feel after a zillion years of dealing with this pms and period crap, it should and must finish now. No, really, it should. Whom do I see about that? Who is the cosmic prick who decided women should deal with this pukeable thing every month for god knows how many damn years? Find him. Bring him to me. I want to speak to him - and it can only be a ‘him’ because no woman, no matter how catty, would inflict this on another woman. It would be wrong. Women have more sense therefore it was a male cosmic being. No, no point arguing with me at the moment as you would lose and I would probably do a victory dance and maybe do one of those throaty war cries. No, I don’t have to be rational. I don’t want to be…so there.

What would I say to the miserable cosmic bastard in charge of making women cursed every month? A lot and it wouldn’t be pleasant but I feel enough is enough. Yes, yes, I know biologically why it happens but I feel when you reach say 24 and if you don’t have a maternal bone in your body then a magic spell should be cast over you and all this suffering ends. See how infinitely logical that is? That will be my first command when I rule the world.

I want menopause. No really, I do. Yes, I realize it's a different degree of crapaciousness but I’m ready for the change. I want the change. I DEMAND THE CHANGE. Bring it on.

Did I mention I’m somewhat ratty at the moment? Did I also mention I can repeat myself as many times as I like due to said rattiness…evil hiss…smell of sulphur…narrowing of eyes…where’s my goddamn Mars bar? So, to make myself feel better and to help the world economy, I bought a pair of shoes. Doc Marten's in fact. I love Docs and bugger it, I deserved them…okay maybe not, but shut up. Besides it was those or more chocolate and I feel I was being very good as shoes you can put on and remove but chocolate sits on you hips and arse forever - and thank you very much to the cosmic, frigging – no doubt again male - being who made chocolate fattening. No really, what a swell guy you are….eye roll…sneer…poking my tongue out at you. Anyway I bought the shoes in the picture. They're called Diva shoes. They're perfect. They’re the sort of shoes Minnie Mouse would wear when she’s pms’ing…what is it with her and Mickey? What a little, high pitched twit he is. You think she would have worked out by now he is never going to marry her. I find him very suspect and that voice of his would just wear on my nerves. Minnie could do so much better than him. Do you think she stays with him from habit or is she at least using him for his money? And why does he always wear his pants right up under his armpits?

Anyway…maybe I digress…with these Docs I will be taller - and everyone knows when you’re taller you look thinner hence less reason to diet. Miracle shoes. Hallelujah and pass the chocolate cake.

www.amarindajones.com
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Be daring...read an Amarinda book

Tuesday, 29 September 2009

So I was having this marathon sex session…


…it was all going along very nicely. Everyone was happy and excited and it was steamy hot and completely out of control. My concentration level was intense as I only wanted one thing and I wanted it then and there, fast and thorough...oh yeah baby…but then it happened…damn…I got a leg cramp and forgot about sex and orgasms as I yelped and jumped up, knocking over a glass of soda water, glass smashing to the ground. The moment was completely ruined. ‘Ever notice how liquid seems to go everywhere and you can only ever find the last piece of glass when you stand on it?

Anyway, after cleaning up and finding a band aid, sex was the last thing I had on my mind. Shame that. The hero was all hot and hard and the heroine was thinking “well, hell, maybe I misjudged him and naked he looks mighty fine…” Yeah, I was writing. Nah, I’m too pure for marathon sex…sort of…kinda…

Sex huh? It's never straight forward and you have to be in the mood for it. And writing it? Frig it's hard. There is so much to remember when you’re actually writing it as opposed to doing it. Next time you have sex, stop and think for a moment how to write it. And it's not just about the female point of view – writing that’s easy. It's the male that’s hard…so to speak. Does any woman really understand how a man’s mind works? I think not. I asked a male friend about the whole ejaculation thing and what he felt in the moment. Did I feel weird asking? Hmm, no, because I wanted a man who would actually tell me the truth and not give me some fairy story about ‘staying power’ and ‘iron-like control’ and ‘going all night’ and having the ‘strength of superman’…I mean come on ...and men think women fake it. Anyway this is a cleaned up/abbreviated version of his response…most interesting in a strangely scientific way…

"I find that it starts with a tingling feeling in the scrotum/testicles and then the physical swelling takes over. As said before they are funny things and tend to grow in a straight line which generally requires some degree of adjustment in that area to keep things comfortable….As for the actual 'coming'. The general rhythmic motion of the lips/mouth/hand/anus/breasts across the top half of the shaft generates the required sensation to build up the flow of semen to the scrotum area and once the point is reached where sufficient intensity is reached the prostrate takes over and pulses the semen out through the shaft and in doing so creates the orgasm for the man. The feeling is generally for 15 - 20 seconds and leaves the knees a bit weak and the ability to hold the erection somewhat more difficult. At this point it is difficult to keep the rhythm up as the cock becomes limper and the desire to continue pumping somewhat weakened."


Hard to describe really - ask me something specific and I will elaborate on that."

My response to that – “15 – 20 seconds…jeez romance heroes last longer…”

Men…funny creatures yet fascinating…and yes, I did ask more specific stuff…but that’s another blog.

www.amarindajones.com
www.amarindajones.blogspot.com
Be daring...read an Amarinda book

Monday, 28 September 2009

Gay? Female? Too bad, so sad…

The Victorian government is expected to announce on Sunday that religious groups will be allowed to discriminate against gays and single mothers in a controversial compromise reached on workers' rights.
Attorney-General Rob Hulls has approved of a plan to let church-run organisations refuse employment to anyone they believe undermines their beliefs, The Sunday Age says.


The newspaper says the plan will allow church groups to discriminate on grounds of sex, sexual orientation, marital status and parental status, but in return these groups will cease being able to discriminate on the basis of race, age, disability, political beliefs, breastfeeding and physical features.
http://au.news.yahoo.com/a/-/newshome/6104482

I had to read this twice because I couldn’t believe anything so stupid could be true. Discriminating “on grounds of sex, sexual orientation, marital status and parental status.” So in essence what this means is women, anyone not straight as a ruler or single parents or those ‘living in sin’ are not acceptable as they undermine the beliefs of a religious body who in theory is preaching God’s word about love, equality and humanity. I’m sorry…what century is this again?

How is this a ‘compromise’ to ‘workers rights’? Does this mean a 60 year old, black, heterosexual male will get precedence over a white, gay man just because he’s straight and they’ll over look the black thing due to him being deemed more ‘normal’? Will a radical feminist raising three kids on her own be shown the door because a woman, with a limp and a big nose, but is married, is more acceptable to these bigoted twits?

No one should be ‘allowed to discriminate’ against anyone let alone a government body condoning it. If this is politics then it’s true any nong with a healthy bank balance can enter the game. If this is religion then I pleased I’m a heathen. I’m often accused of being a rampant socialist. I have this crazy belief that no one is better than anyone else and everyone should be treated equally. Bargaining and compromising with people’s lives? It’s just plain wrong. ‘Victorian government’? Yeah you belong back in that century.

"ALL ANIMALS ARE EQUAL, BUT SOME ARE MORE EQUAL THAN OTHERS"- George Orwell, Animal Farm, Ch. 10

www.amarindajones.com
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Be daring...read an Amarinda book

Sunday, 27 September 2009

Black rose tattoo….


…so I got my black rose tattoo today. I sat in my purple bra, cleavage busting forth and got my shoulder inked. I love the tattoo. Jason did a fabulous job with what half arsed info I gave him. I said I want this and that…maybe some swirly things and a kick arse rose and he made an excellent drawing of exactly what I wanted. I love it when people get you straight away – that you don’t have to pull out the sock puppets or do an interpretative dance for them to understand what you want. That’s so refreshing. Few people are so in tune with our own individual needs that it astounds me every time I meet someone simpatico. I was happy for him to take a picture of the tatt. He did an excellent job. Thank you Jason.

The gentlemen at tattoo parlour brought up something that had never occurred to me. As writers we always get pissed when an arsehole e-book pirate – no apologies – they are – takes one of our books – overriding legal copyright and illegally sells our product to make a profit for themselves. Utter wankers. What about tattoo designs? Think about the effort that goes into drawing these tattoos. I’m not talking about the old ‘mother’ and ‘anchor’ tattoos. There are people walking around with some amazing and beautiful tattoos on them. What if they take a photo of them and it ends up on the internet? What if a tattoo site offering cheap downloads pinches the design of a tattoo artist and on sells it for their own profit? It’s bloody wrong. Can a tattoo be copyrighted and policed? How hard would that be? What the hell is it with uninteresting, lazy, non-inventive, untalented people who believe they have the right to steal? Why exactly are these predators on the planet?

Tattoos – I love ‘em but think before you ink. You will have it forever.


www.amarindajones.com
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Be daring...read an Amarinda book

Saturday, 26 September 2009

Bloody fate…


I swear fate or kismet or one of those little buggers has been slapping me in the head all week, making me look at my life and think. And worse than the whole thinking thing, something so alien to me has happened. I've been consumed with regret about something. I don’t believe in regrets normally because I believe you do what you are meant to do and there was never ever any other outcome you could have taken so worry? It’s all about synchronicity isn’t? Things happen for a reason so why moan if stuff doesn’t turn out the way you wanted it to? But this...oh man...I keep thinking I should have done something...why didn’t I read between the lines? What is the point of pride? Does it beat need and hunger? Basically I have come to the enlightened conclusion that destiny sucks and can’t be trusted.

Nah, there's no real, solid answer to any of this. If there was I would have drawn a line under what I am feeling and moved on without all this thinking crap going on. I don’t know. Maybe we're never meant to know the answer to some questions. Maybe we're meant to feel regret every so often to make us realize that there are some things that are more important to us then we ever realized could be. Jeez…life can be exhausting can’t it?

But…a less exhausting thing…I get my second tattoo today. I’m looking forward to it. Why? Having a tattoo is like a declaration of life and who you are and what you want. It ain’t got nothing to do with destiny.


www.amarindajones.com
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Be daring...read an Amarinda book

Friday, 25 September 2009

It’s Friday…

…blessed be this day. I got nothing of any note that I can spruik on in a public forum. I just plan to get through the work day as fast as possible. Do we wish our lives away? No, because work isn’t life is it?

For homework, a class in NSW* were asked to draw their parents at work.
This is Jessica's drawing:


Here's the letter the teacher received the next day:
Dear Mrs. Jackson, I wish to clarify that I am not now, nor have I ever been, an exotic dancer.

I work at Bunnings** and I told my daughter how hectic it was last week after the floods hit. I told her we sold out every single shovel we had and then I found one more in stock and several people were fighting over who would get it.

Her picture doesn't show me dancing around a pole. It's supposed to depict me selling the last shovel we had in the store.

*NSW – New South Wales (Oz)
** Bunnings – hardware store

The judgements we make on others huh?

As you slide down the banister of life, may the splinters never be pointing the wrong direction

www.amarindajones.com
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Be daring...read an Amarinda book

Thursday, 24 September 2009

Inner peace....

Inner peace

I am passing this on to you because it definitely worked for me and we all could use more calm in our lives. By following the simple advice I heard on a Medical TV show, I have finally found inner peace.


A Doctor proclaimed the way to achieve inner peace is to finish all the things you have started.
So I looked around my house to see things I'd started and hadn't finished, and, before leaving the house this morning, I finished off a bottle of Merlot, a bottle of shhardonay, a bodle of Baileys, a butle of vocka, a pockage of Prunglies, tha mainder of bot Prozic and Valum scriptins, the res of the Chesescke an a box a choclits.

Yu haf no idr who gud I fel. Peas sen dis orn to dem yu fee AR in ned ov inr pis...
*************************************
**I always enjoy this email when I get it…it’s an oldie but a goodie…have a peaceful day

www.amarindajones.com
www.amarindajones.blogspot.com
Be daring...read an Amarinda book