Most of my exes on Facebook now have children. This says less about the fertility of my ex-boyfriends than the people I stay friends with on facebook, to be honest. Still: of the ex-partners that I am still friends with on facebook, the majority of them have kids.

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This blog post – part 2 in a series of… hmm… I’m not sure how many yet – talks about some mental health stuff, including Dark Thoughts and general misery. If that’s likely to disturb you please don’t read on. 

When you’re mad, you’re allowed to say the word ‘mad’ – at least in your own head. You’re allowed to tell yourself: ‘don’t think like that, it’s mad. That’s what got you here in the first place.’ When you’re mad, you’re taught to examine your thoughts carefully – writing them down if necessary – so you can pick over the alien carcass of insanity that your brain has spat out. Pulling the meat (‘I’m worried I can’t have sex’) from the bones that you’re meant to identify and discard (‘If I can’t have sex I may as well die’).

I am being medicated into compliance. 

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On Monday night a PR person got in touch with me to offer me an interview with her client, Garren James. He’s a former model who runs a male escort agency – Cowboys 4 Angels – to provide services for straight women. In her original email, she said something so bizarre I couldn’t help but wonder if this was genuinely the opinion of her client, or if she’d gone a bit off-piste. Was this just an individual being ignorant of her own prejudice, or was it a company that genuinely built its services on biphobic principles?

Let’s find out.

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I like the way a guy’s dick twitches when I push something into him – like a butt plug. I like to watch that twitch as the plug slips inside – that quick pulse of his cock that tells me it’s settled neatly into the right place.

His face twitches too. A flicker of pain/lust/need/satisfaction – one or all, delete as appropriate.

And that’s why I want him to get fucked in the ass while he fucks me.

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I think about it all the time: fucking strangers. My journeys into town, out of town, down to the shops to pick up milk: they’re all peppered with deeply personalised erotic fiction – flash-frame fucks starring people I pass on the way.

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