Tuesday, 5 February 2008

This is the BBC Light Programme.

Like Blacksilk, I haven't been around to blog much. Like Lady Pandora, I've got a load of views on sex that I feel I need to write about - just not feeling like I'm doing it in the most eloquent way (Unlike Pandora, however, I lack a jar full of all the evils in the world - and I also lack hope, natch). Like LucyBoots, I'm horny.

Unlike all of them, I'm a loser.

Oh... and a boy, too.

But one thing I can do... I can talk.
I could talk for Britain. I'm such a geek, I know about so many things that aren't of any real relevance. I could tell you how fast the heart of a mouse beats, all the trick arrows used by Green Arrow in the DC universe between the Crises, the first Pokémon owned by Ash/Red in the first version of each separate franchise, or the names of all the ghosts in Luigi's Mansion. I could reel off the history of my favourite band, probably backwards. I could play all kinds of drum beats on a desk. I could recite nearly every lyric recorded by William Shatner. I could discuss, in detail, all eight series of Knightmare.

Store of vital information that I am, however, I've never considered myself that physically attractive (barring a few shots in which my hair appears red). Everyone else says I'm handsome, though.

One thing on which everyone is agreed (my eyes, which even I think are pretty, notwithstanding), and I promise I'm going somewhere with this, is that my voice is extremely sexy.
I talk rather quickly (I type quickly, too, so I can keep up with my thoughts), but I've got a hesitant, deep (although not bass) voice, and perhaps most importantly, I speak with a cut-glass English accent. Born and brought up in North London, on the cusp of the Home Counties - and the son of an actor, to boot - I speak in received pronunciation. No London accent; no Midlands twang. Even though I'm no patriot (republican, actually), I speak The Queen's English.
That's why I talk a lot. Because I like my voice a lot. And the American girls I know like it too. For all I know, every time I open my mouth, I'm getting them all hot and bothered... or is that just the desired effect of my mouth being open? Who knows?

The thing I like about the sex blog community that I've found myself immersed in is that I can be myself. Everywhere else, I have to put up a front - I'm most like myself when I'm with my friends; it's the same with everyone.... but my job involves a massive amount of pretending to be someone I'm not. Here, I can talk about what I want to. And usually, it's sex. You can't talk about sex with north London boys in their early 20s, nor can you with girls. Boys will suddenly pull up all their bravado (or go all shy), and girls will either think you're a pervert or become rather too keen if they're drunk. When it's your sister, that's not something you want to see.

But I can't use my voice.

Maybe that's a good thing. If I did, whether I wanted to or not, I'd have a fan club. That probably wouldn't add to the mystique.


Anonymous said...

Aw, bless you for the mention !

I remember Knightmare too...used to scare the hell out of me when the peeling skeleton arrived on screen to tell them their lifeforce was running out.

I seem to share your problem about the voice thing. Even though I'm a devon lass through and through, I also have RP speech, but I am not the most vocal of gals in the real big wide world - although in my line of work I have to but then I'm taking on the 'role'.

When I do tend to talk vocally about sex it happens when I'm drunk and things don't *quite* come out as eloquently as I'd like and so my manifesto on the taboo that is female masturbation in general society comes out a little skewiff.

Which I guess is better for me when I come to talk about it in blog form all the more avidly and well-versed.

Anonymous said...

Thanks for the plug, my dear ILB :)

I wouldn't call you a loser. At least, though I now little about you, you don't seem one. Just a sex-brained geek, which I can sympathise with :)

RP accents I can go either way on. It depends on the exact voice and the person who has it. I can hate them or rather like them. But I'd never want one. Ever. I'm already slowly losing my strong Cornish accent (now you know why I mocked Devon, LadyP :P) and I don't want to. I like sounding like a yokel. (For a start it makes people more surprised when they find out you actually have a huge vocabulary)

Also, I miss Knightmare :(

And few people think themselves attractive.

I think the only front I put on when it comes to sex-blogging is the anonymity thing (which I'm pretty sure I'm going to fail at very soon). That is a pain. I have to put on my non-kinky front in front of my friends though. Today I proclaimed that condoms are rubbish and smell funny and got some very odd looks...

Anonymous said...

Avast ye bloody Cornish Pirate! Pistols placed in garter belts at dawn. No emmets or grockles allowed. Stand and draw at 20 paces. Arrrrh.

Innocent Loverboy said...


Awww, I love you girls.

Anonymous said...

"Avast ye bloody Cornish Pirate! Pistols placed in garter belts at dawn. No emmets or grockles allowed. Stand and draw at 20 paces. Arrrrh."

Oh go avast yerself :P Teehee. We'll keelhaul any landlubber that dare sail the Internet Ocean! Yargh!


Awww, I love you girls."

Aww, bless :) Yarr, indeed ye filthy seadog!

(Blogging is fun :) )