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!

Hello, Sheeple.

People think  “Black Sheep”, the film about the killer sheep, is pure fiction…

but actually it’s based upon me… before I’ve had my morning coffee.

I’m having some fun with this cow on-line. She thinks I’m a bull. Silly moo. lol

This better not be one of the “tupping” prequels or there’ll be hell to pay.

What did you think I ate?

“Tup Off!” I’m having my lunch.

Everybody get your arse up against a wall. There’s an Australian round here somewhere.

Time for church.

I’m looking for some good lines to ewes on the ladies.

Helloooo Baa-baay. I’d definitely tup that woolly arse.

I don’t care if your Mother’s name is Billie-Jean. You are not my kid!

You can tell she likes a good roll in the hay. Llamas are such sluts.

I know they say eating different types of food can change the flavour of your semen but I can’t have eaten that many blueberries!

Hide me! My Mrs just found out about my three hundred girlfriends.

Reblogged from Black Door Press:

I spend time on the blogs of every single one of my readers. I am very happy to say that you are an eclectic and interesting bunch. Many of you are even writers. If you’ve poked around my little corner of cyberspace then you’ve probably noticed the Writing Out Child Abuse badge down the right side of the site. If you haven’t, I’ve repeated it here. WOCA is the brain child of J.S. Wayne, a wonderful author of erotica. JS tells his story best at the WOCA blog, so I won’t retell it here, but suffice it to say …

“Practising yoga is Satanic, it leads to evil just like reading Harry Potter,”

~ The Telegraph

Stories like that makes me think of this:

via Blag Hag