In the rush of personal events this month, I took a couple of weeks off from some of my usual reads and consequently that meant I missed Naomi Darvell’s look at sexblogs over at Clean Sheets. She did a wonderful job of capturing blogs at that moment in time and stretched the appreciation beyond the usual sexblog boundaries. Nicely done!
In reading Naomi’s piece, I was struck by the excerpted presence of my anniversary blogging message. If I remember correctly, both Bacchus and SpankBoss noticed those words too and I owe all of them my thanks for finding resonance in what I said. That my perception meant something to others is one of the many things that makes blogging a fulfilling pasttime.
And so does finding unlikely links. Like the latest patent on a self-flagellation machine. OK, so it’s based on a common cliche and not on spankophile fun, but necessity is the mother of invention. (To continue in a cliched mode.)
The BBC and other news sources are twittering over the latest sex craze, dogging. Funny, but as I read about it, it made me think about Catherine Millet’s autobiography where she wrote about outdoor, nighttime gang bangs. Because her book was fair more popular in Europe than it was in American, did it inspire the dogging craze? That it’s been in print at least a year or two longer there would account for the craze reaching the critical mass of drawing the press’s attention. Then again, I didn’t have to look too hard to find evidence of dogging out here on the web.
If you haven’t noticed, I’m not egotistically comfortable promoting myself. The shy little girl’s always lurking, hiding behind my legs. So with that in mind, would someone please nominate me for one of these categories? In exchange, I’ll consider setting up a nude easter egg hunt in trade. How’s that sound?
