I came up with the idea for a story that then turned itself into a movie. It’s not totally original but there’s enough drama and potential for nude scenes to turn it into one of those “made for TV” type films. I don’t have a title for it (suggestions welcome) but we can leave that up to a focus group so as to maximise our appeal across the greatest audience demographic.

If you were wondering. I’m asking for fifty million because I have no idea how much it would cost to produce. Don’t worry, I promise to give back anything I don’t use. Pinky swear!

Huff’s movie: A synopsis.

• A young man with a terminal illness (I don’t know his age or circumstances) meets a young woman in a hospice. She’s just visiting and enters his room by mistake.
• They hit it off and start a whirlwind romance.
• He’s reluctant at first because he’s dying and depressed but she says its all fine and you have to live for the moment.
• Lots of good times ensue eg. Rollercoaster rides, walks along the beach and…

… He’s had a relapse and back in hospital. She comes in and pulls the curtain to hide him from everyone. She never says a word. Puts earphones on him and then to his own personal soundtrack she removes the large coat she is wearing to reveal a Princess Leia, slave-girl costume and proceeds to give him a sexy belly dance before slowly getting on to the bed and crawling up him, never losing eye contact and never saying a word. The scene ends with a shot from outside the curtained-off bed with doctors and nurses walking past totally unaware of what’s going on behind it.

• We then find out (through a fellow patient or nurse who is going through a bad breakup and wants to lash out) that this isn’t her first relationship with someone who is dying. (I think because it’s hot and trendy and totally cliché that she should be bisexual.)
• He in turn becomes standoffish. She does the “What’s wrong?” thing.
• He confronts her.
• We find out that when she was a child her mother died from cancer. The fear of losing her mother turned to anger and so she rejected her and lost those last precious months of life. So now through misplaced guilt she forms relationships with the dying to make up for her perceived sin. She has also cut herself off from the rest of her family and lies about their existence.
• Angry words are spoken culminating in him demanding to know whether she’ll find another dying charity case to “pity fuck” when he’s gone?
• With tears in her eyes she says “Yes.” Not to hurt him but just as an honest answer and to show she is aware of the self-destructive cycle she’s in.
• His fear of dying and now this revelation that he’s just one in a line of dying lovers drives him to have “angry sex” with her. She’s looking up at him crying for herself and because she’s hurt him. He’s angry and demands “Tell me you love me!” with each hard thrust. At the end it comes out more like he’s begging.
• The scene ends with the camera pulling away slowly, to the sound of quiet sobbing and her running her hands up and down his back to comfort him.
• I think at this point in the movie it’s time for a musical montage. We cut back and forth between them apart going about their separate lives.
• We then have a scene where someone gives the young man some wise words. We could use the cliché of the all knowing elderly African-American (Can we afford Morgan Freeman?) or maybe “out of the mouths of babes” wisdom from a terminal child.

Also at this point we have a resolution of an ongoing plot device. Throughout our story, while under the influence of pain medication, our lead thinks he’s being seeing the dark spectre of death who he thinks is coming for him. However any supernatural element is discounted as we reveal that in fact it is merely a elderly nun in her habit who comes in occasionally to visit a fellow hospice patient.

• After the “wise words” he has the realisation that, yes, he is dying and there’s nothing that can be done about that but on the other hand, she isn’t. She helped him and showed him a wonderful world when all he could see was the oncoming darkness of death. She helped him so it’s his turn to help her. He’ll help her break the cycle, move on, find someone to love. Her happiness and life-living will be his ultimate “Fuck You” to death.
• Not sure how that happens yet (there might be another musical montage. How many are you allowed in a movie?) but this part of the story ends with them smiling and hugging as friends.
• The final scene is one of those “Six months later” kind and we open on a commentary. We close-in on the service (which is nicely attended by family and minor cast members we’ve met throughout the story). We see her in black and crying. Next to her is an old man in a wheelchair (let’s give him an oxygen mask to make him look sick). Oh dear! Has she returned to her old ways of finding sick puppies and will this be all her life is? But wait… The dramatic twist is it’s in fact her father who she has reconciled with. I think as a nice ending we should subtly allude to her enrolling to university to obtain some type of degree for the purpose of becoming a grief councillor, so as to help others.
• And roll the credits.

Note: If this becomes a huge box-office success and they decide to do a porn parody, I have an idea for the final scene. In reference to a joke earlier on in the film, about his final wishes, the female lead and her new hot and sexy girlfriend (remember, she is bi-sexual) come back to the cemetery at night and have hot lesbian sex on top of the grave. I have the idea it should be raining so there’s a lot of wet skin (and lightening flashes) but I’m not sure how we can do that and not have a great mess of mud. Fuck it! I’ll let the director sort that one out.

Sorry about all of that but it was a particularly long shower.

Image via quickmeme

Dear Penthouse Forum…

I got off work early. ”Hey Boss, thanks a bunch.”
Plan to head home, take the wife out to lunch

Parked the car, went inside calling, “Darling, I’m here.”
But brought up short by sounds men dread and fear

That’s MY wife in mid orgasm and she’s not alone
Part of me wishes now, I should have first phoned

But I suck-it right up and march straight down the hall
Plan to kick in the door and some wife-fucker’s balls

But I’m stopped in my tracks by, “Bitch, eat my pussy!”
Hey, that’s not my wife… Who’s the twat loving hussy?

So I have a quick peek and just can’t help but stare
At my wife going down on the neighbour’s au pair

I never would have guessed, meaning both, wife and nanny
Having lez loving inklings when I tongued-loved their fannies

Course the wife doesn’t know that the nanny’s quite randy
And living next door makes her easy and handy

First tasted her charms around Christmas last year
And the most recent fuck was last week on the stairs

But enough of admiring their Sapphic connection
I’ve got two horny bitches and a full-on erection

So fling open the door, announce “Honey, I’m home!”
And I slip up behind her and slide in my bone

Well that set her off and she started to cum
The afternoon’s first, for this kinky threesome

So you want all the details… Sorry, a Gent never tells
But I came in all holes… Yes, arse-fucked them as well

The life lesson here is if you catch your wife cheating
Is to forgive and join in… as long as just pussy she’s eating

Image via Flickr

So Happy New Year to all… and roll on December 21.

The entertainer

I wanted to play Shakespeare.
A life treading the stage.
Moliere, Beckett, Pinter, “To be, or not to be…”
…the thespian of my age.

But alas, I’m no Gielgud
and lack the acting flair.
So set my sights on Hollywood
and a movie-star career.

But even here in tinsel-town
some acting skills required.
No call-backs, got me down,
and my funds soon did expire.

So now it’s time for honesty,
of my life to take some stock.
♬ “If I can’t make anywhere…” ♬
how bout I do it with my cock?

For Porno-wood is not too far
and just north, outside LA.
Surely there a handsome man
can earn some “fucking” pay.

Could I be the next James Deen?
That dream is swiftly dashed.
As I’m told I’m more James Dean,
…post his ‘55 car crash.

The stage, the screen… and PornTube
are now all out of reach.
It’s getting so damned desperate
I’d even guest on Jersey beach.

I’ll even do a… the Kardashian’s,
some karaoke with club Glee.
Or last refuge of the talentless,
a music show on FOX TV.

So I can’t act and I can’t sing
and I certainly can’t dance.
But it didn’t stop the hoards
when X-Idol gave a chance.

Please, put me on the TV
and I’ll be your slave, your whore.
I’ll do any kind of menial work
…except comedy by Chuck Lorre.

So whose cock do I have to suck?
You bet I’ll go that far!
To have top bill, my name in lights
‘cause I wanna be a STAR!

As a casual observer I find Theology quite a fascinating subject. Of course sometimes those most learned scholars come across like a bunch of Star Trek fans who argue over who is the better captain, but I do like it. I think it may be because the subject of sex rears its sticky head so very often. My favourite quote from a theologian, which I can’t get out of my head, no matter how much I try, is:

…a chemically contracepted act does not impede the husband from depositing semen in his wife’s vagina…”

Amen to that, brother.

But it wasn’t “sperm and vaginas” I was thinking of today (at least no more than usual) but the circumstances surrounding the conception of the little baby J.C. by the Virgin Mary. Or to be more precise:

Is Mary, Jesus’ biological mother (ie. She contributed half his genetic code) or was she merely a surrogate carrying the implanted but fully formed “God bod”?

So off to the internet I go to have my question answered…

Oh!

It looks like I’m not the only person who’s pondered this question and everyone seems to have a different opinion. At this point I could make a detailed argument for each side based on the relevant Bible passages but honestly… that seems like a lot of work for something I’m not that bothered about. So I’ll happily just pick one that suits my belief system…

Therefore, even though He was nurtured in Mary’s womb for nine months and born without her ever knowing a man, it was also necessary for all this to have been preceded by supernatural intervention, to prevent His receiving any actual genetic inheritance through her. The body growing in Mary’s womb must have been specially created in full perfection, and placed there by the Holy Spirit, in order for it to be free of inherent sin damage. Christ would still be “made of the seed of David according to the flesh” (Romans 1:3), because His body was nurtured and born of Mary, who was herself of the seed of David. He would still be the Son of Man, sharing all universal human experience from conception to death, except sin. He is truly “the seed of the woman” (Genesis 3:15), His body formed neither of the seed of the man nor the egg of the woman, but grown from a unique Seed planted in the woman’s body by God Himself.

That is, God directly formed a body for the second Adam just as He had for the first Adam (Genesis 2:7). This was nothing less than a miracle of creation, capable of accomplishment only by the Creator Himself. “That holy thing which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God” (Luke 1:35).

…and I’ll wage a bloody crusade on anyone who disagrees with me.

Merry Christmas.

(This seems to be inappropriately appropriate)

Image via Tumblr

The internet is full of images of women who self-shoot and then post for all to see. I’m not saying I ignore the woman but once I’ve got past the initial thoughts of “You could probably cut glass with those nipples” or “There must some special name for the colour of a woman’s labia because pink just doesn’t do it justice”, my eyes start to wander. They voyeuristically look past the woman and into the rest of the image. I’m always fascinated by the snapshot we get from a snapshot. I’ve an inquisitive desire to look beyond the obvious and learn about the real person by observing their surroundings.

Who are you? What are you like? What do you want? I don’t expect to answer the questions and sometimes I let my imagination run wild and simply make stuff up but I can’t help but ask them.

I’m a bit of a tidy freak so I’m partly horrified and partly impressed that people can put photos online that show messy bedrooms with clothes strewn all over the floor.

I get especially excited when there’s a bookcase in the background. I zoom past the naked woman and try to make out what she reads or the titles in her DVD collection.

Is it wrong to take an interest in how bedrooms and bathrooms are decorated? Is it weird to look at a naked woman lying on her bed and wondering where she got the duvet cover from?

I suppose it’s simply that while naked flesh is sexy and exciting it’s the “person” that’s truly erotic. Tits and arse are all very nice but in the end personality makes the person and that’s what I find most interesting.

• I’m not a religious person so that aspect doesn’t excite me. Virgin birth? Yeah, right!
• Christmas is for kids but since I’ve never had any [insert "As far as I know" joke] that doesn’t apply.
• Christmas is about family. Oh god, please don’t remind me they’re all showing up this year. I love and like my family…but at a distance. I’m a solitary person who’d rather spend Christmas alone watching TV with an endless supply of chocolate.
• Also since I’m currently…shall we say, between jobs…I can’t even enjoy having the time off.

I know I’m a Grinch but I can’t change the way I’m feeling. I tried writing a Christmas poem…

So this is Christmas and what’s that to you?
Turkey dinner with family or a boozy office do?
Are you here for the pressies or to celebrate Christ’s birth?
What do you wish for? A 64gb iPad with 3G…or peace on earth?
Are you off to church or a cathedral called mall?
Just another eight-hour shift. Will you have time…to give mum a call?
So another year over. Was it better than before?
How’s that famine going and did we conclude any wars?
…

…but all I could come up with is these depressing few lines and so gave it up.

Oh how I wish I drank. I could spend the first half of Christmas off-my-face and the other half hung-over. At least I wouldn’t care. The only thing I’m even remotely excited about is going on-line Boxing Day to view the Doctor Who Christmas Special. Do you want to know how bad things really are? I downloaded some Christmas themed porn but haven’t watched it because I’m not in the mood. Porn…Not in the mood…How the fuck did we come to this point?

All I need now is someone to tell me Santa Claus doesn’t exist and I’ll lose it completely.

Roll on January, I say…

…and my birthday. OH FUCK! Now I’m REALLY depressed.

Cheer me up, Kev! PLEASE!