sometimes...i read lovely stuff. sometimes...not.

All the King's Men - Robert Penn Warren

See Everything I've Read This Year (or 06, 07)

See What Movies I've Seen This Year ( or 06, 07)

How much time did I waste this year watching tv on dvd (07)?

 

 

i would die without my iPod

Perfect Day - Hoku

 

i am never satisfied

another late night happy phone call

or anything from my wishlist

 

i fear fat

2008 Log
January - 32.5 (thank you crappy flu)
February - 33 (so that also sucked)
March - 59
April - 25.5
May - 44
June - 34
July - 16

YTD - 244

 


DexFX
Ken's Blabber Blog
Honeydunce
The Nature of Sand
Slappy
A Tribute to Narcisism
The New IdeaList
COLOgal
World Famous in SF
Applesauce Blog
Ocotillos and Politics
Big Sky Mind
Shimmy!
Playa Hata Degree
Kari
Todd Hundley Sucks
Hobert
Larry
Moon
Ken's Film Diary
Avery




 



Europe: A Very Long Time Ago
Peru '04
China '06
Hawaii '06
Uganda '07
Madrid '08
Mongolia '08

 

Sweeter Than Pie
Oranges
A New Day Has Come
Footsie
Sex Clubs and Coke
Missing the Words
There Can Be Too Much Freedom
Goodbye, Baby. I loved you a lot.
12 Lust-Worthy Men
Dollhouse Ruminations
We're All Sinners
Bach & Bob
Jar of Pills
How to Release

 

Beginnings & Beginnings
Dec '05
2006
2007
January 2008
February 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
June 2008
July 2008


43 Things
Twitter
Flickr
MySpace
Facebook
Ma.gnolia

 

poetry

 

 


 

 


What You Mark in Ma.gnolia Stays Found.


Thursday, February 28, 2008

The Final Frontier: Text Message Sex

Who should read this entry: K-Rock, Shim Shim, A-Train, a certain girl in LA I know who is the master of the dirty text (yeah, you know who you are Princess K). And also a certain girl in Chicago who is supposed to be learning to talk dirty from me.

Who should NOT read this entry:

Mom - you should skip this and head right down below it to where the first entry about Spain is.

Person With Whom I Had Text Message Sex Last Night: Don't read this if you ever want to enjoy that activity again. Seriously. Just don't read it. Trust me.

Anyway...

So, as a little background info, I've had this long distance ... thing ... going on for a while now. It's not a SMOS violation (even though SMOS technically ended yesterday!). It's not exclusive. It's not even really defined, but it is a ... thing.

Okay, so media has advanced to the point where the big frontier is no longer cyber sex. Remember when cyber sex was soooo weird and we longed for the days of good old fashioned 900 numbers? Oh no, people, oh no. We have advanced to the point of being mobile while we fuck each other in a virtual imaginary world. We have moved on to text message sex.

And with it comes something totally unique to text message sex as a form of virtual sex: mobility. With phone sex, you may have to juggle that receiver between your shoulder and your ear, but the verbal nature of the act at least requires you to honor the privacy of being alone, usually in your bed. Unless you are a frat boy sharing the experience during rush. With cyber sex, you are by default tied to the location of your computer. But with text message sex -- ah, with text message sex, you can be doing ANYTHING while simultaneously having virtual sex. Think of the possibilities!

Or, don't think of them and I'm going to lay them out for you by telling you the story of my night last night.

So, last night as I was heading home, I get a dirty text from ... let's call him Boom. And I read it, and I smile, and I send back an equally dirty one and think I'm done for the night. And then there is another text with a prompt, and I'm like "Seriously? He wants us to get off via TEXT MESSAGE?" But, whatever, I was there with him anyway. So, you know, games are fun. But, mobility. That's not necessarily conducive to virtual sex, particularly if you have ADD like me. Here's how the night laid out.

Being Typed Into My Phone
I just got out of the bath and I'm imagining rubbing my wet body up against you...
Coming Out of My Mouth
Hey! HEY! HEY! Can I get a sirloin burger, a super size diet coke and some jalapeno poppers? HEY?! Is anybody in there?

Being Typed Into My Phone
Before we even make it to the bedroom, I slide down and put my mouth around your cock...
Coming Out of My Mouth
FUCKIT. That jalapeno popper is HOT. SHIT. FUCK. DAMMIT.

Being Typed Into My Phone
I'm gently teasing you for a long time before I slide you all the way in...

Coming Out of My Mouth
FUCKKKKK. THE GODDAMN CAT PEED ON THE CARPET AGAIN. FUCKING CHRIST. DAMMIT.

Hot, right? Makes me long for the good old normal days of fake fucking on the computer.

But the real issue is if you think of the future. Cell phones - Devil's curse. But they make anything possible at any time. Think about our society's obsession with porn. Then think about the future of iPhones in everybody's hands. Then imagine a future in which people just walk around all day with a dazed look on their face getting off via text message.

I always said my iPhone replaced my need for a man.

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Sunday, October 21, 2007

Really, It's Like I Was Never in Africa at All

Though, you know, I do have the next four Africa entries ready to go over the next four days.

It was a stressful week. I mean, one could certainly say that it was a stressful week because I'm impacting positive change in my life. That didn't remove the stress. And then the weekend, wow. I hurt today. Physically hurt. Yes, it was that bad. It can really be told in three chapters.

Chapter One: Fortunately, I am not pregnant.
Friday, I was approaching two weeks late. (Yes, I know, you will read this when you get back and say, "You totally told me before I left that we didn't need to worry." It's true. I said that. I just wanted you to have a clear mind while you were on your trip.). Anyway, normally in that situation, I would have just said, "Travel. Super high levels of stress. Late is normal." But there was a small margin of error going on, and so I was worried. And so, on Friday, I wanted to know if I could drink over the weekend with a clear conscious or not. Later, we will realize that I should have just stayed worried and not been drinking, but who knew. So I picked up an EPT test on the way home from work. The very act of buying that test seemed to spur my body into action a couple of hours later, but before that, I did take the test.

I am thirty-three years old.

When I took the test, my two nieces were at my place. One of them is twenty-one years old. One of them is twenty-four years old.

Me (reading directions that make the act of peeing on a stick seem like brain science level challenge)
This is a lot more confusing than I though. I've never taken one of these tests before.

BOTH Nieces
Oh! I have! Let me explain it to you.

There's so much wrong with what I just described.

I still love them even if they're apparently, ahem, more active than I would like.



Chapter Two: Hott Scott Joins an Exclusive Club
This was the conversation on Friday.

Hott Scott
I kind of want to keep it mellow tonight. How about we call K-rock and have A-train and Latchkey hang out around nine and we just open a couple of bottles of wine and then call it a night around midnight?

Me
That sounds perfect. I had a week from hell, and I have to go out on a rager on Saturday night, so I'd super like to keep it mellow tonight.

And see, that's how the plans laid out. A mellow night of just drinking some wine with some friends and being home around midnight for a full night of sleep and a productive day the next day.

And four hours later, Hott Scott joined a very special club. It's a club with a small membership, but unfortunately not as exclusive as it should be. It's the official "I Have Put Jocelyn to Sleep on my Bathroom Floor" club.



Here's how this played out: After holding my hair for an hour while I threw up, Hott Scott let me lay down against the cool tile of the bathroom floor and pass out for a while. Then he came back.

Hott Scott
Jocelyn, will you get up off the floor and go to bed on the couch or one of the extra beds?

Me
(Insert about a full minute of moaning.)
Nooooooooo.
(Insert more moaning)

Hot Scott
Do you want to just sleep here on the bathroom floor?

Me
(Insert about a full minute of moaning.)
Yeeeesssss.
(Insert more moaning)

And in the morning, I woke up with a blanket and a pillow and a neck ache from sleeping on the bathroom floor. You know what Hott Scott is? He's awesome for taking care of my drunk ass.

To be honest, I'm not even sure how it happened. I had four, maybe five, glasses of wine over a three or four hour period. I mean, that's a lie. Not a lie about the fact that I didn't drink all that much, but a lie about how I don't know how I ended up that drunk. I had neglected to eat most of the day. I'd had, like, two rice cakes at 2pm and that was it. That's how I ended up spending the night on the bathroom floor.

Chapter Three: And then there was Saturday night...
Yes. Sigh.

Honestly, you may just want to look at the pictures from Saturday night. That's a better way to tell the story. Click here to see the full set.

Not only was Saturday night Jess's bachelorette party, but also as I may have mentioned all three nieces plus a bunch of their friends were in town for a birthday party. So the plan was that we'd do Jess's bachelorette and then all meet up at Ghostbar late night.

Here are some highlights.

We started at Voodoo with a Witch Doctor and some steak.



We went to Chippendales for Jess's birthday. Yes, we did. And we all rolled our eyes about how much we're not going to dig this. And then...we were wrong. We were not only entertained, we were all oddly turned on. And I have a total crush on Bryan Cheatham. We all agreed that the best scene in the entire show is the "art scene" in which there is an unexplained bed, chaise lounge and motorcycle on stage and three separate solos about the sadness of being alone going on. I may not have laughed so hard in years. In between stripping, the men just look hearbroken. I recommend. I strongly recommend. That is all. So.good.



After the show, the entertaining, fantastic show that I want to see again, we headed to Moon. Where I will leave it at "We got our drink on. We got our dance on."




And then, the explosion of ghetto hit us at Ghostbar and the party turned up even more, and I can't even think about it, really.





And then I got home at 5 and the nieces were at least an hour later than I was. Rough. I have big black spots of memory. Literally.

Okay, and so I had dreams of going to LA next weekend, but today I was brutally brought to the realization that I went to Africa, and came back and pretty much had houseguests every weekend and went through a traumatic job transition and had a bad pregnancy scare and I'm just exhausted and I need a weekend of Zelda and tea and quiet. So that is what I will do next weekend.

And that is all. We resume Africa tomorrow.

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Wednesday, March 14, 2007

For the Good of Humanity

A-Train asks the pressing questions about this ... and I feel that the answers will benefit humanity so much that I'm pulling it out of the comment thread and just answering it.

A-Train's Question
absolutely shocking content here. to help me understand life a bit better, if you don't mind, a couple clarifications?
1) is the store ACTUALLY called hottie world?

Jos's Answer
Yes. There's one on Maryland next to the Target across from the Boulevard. True story.

A-Train's Question
2) celine and fall out boy were separate songs, right? there's no live bootleg footage, i'm thinking.

Jocelyn's Answer
They were separate songs, but God how I could hope for a mash-up.

A-Train's Question
3) do the twins, um, share the room? not that i'm expecting you to know firsthand, but i'd imagine it came up in conversation.

Jocelyn's Answer
In another time, another place, like 8 months ago, I would have found out and told you. Oh, old times.

A-Train's Question
4) what percentage of women would you say do, in fact, have a "signal system"?

Jocelyn's Answer
Don't kid yourself. 100%.

A-Train says:
thanks in advance for your time!

Jocelyn says:
Whatever I can do to advance humanity.

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Copyright 2004, 2005 Jocelyn Saurini
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