On Asses and Literature
Stamped: October 18th, 2005 | Toggle Similar
Tagged: body parts, literature and smut, spank, things i ♥.
I took great pleasure in watching yesterday's rant degenerate into a discussion on asses and the merits of Henry Miller. Two excellent subjects.
On Asses.
I have to admit that when I moved to New York I became mired in a serious ass depression. New York women have some of the best asses I have ever seen. All round and plentiful. Then there was my sorry, untanned, muscle-free ass. I could no longer bear to do the over-the-shoulder check in the dressing room. The competition was too stiff, so why even bother? I was fine going to work. With the semi-casual business attire I wear five days a week my blazer would come mid-ass, and my attaché slung strategically over my shoulder covered the other half. I was in the clear. So I focused on the front. I was determined to make my front look as though the back probably matched. No luck there. 34 B. And if I'm morally opposed to wearing those padded butt panties then why the hell would I wear a padded bra. Au naturalle….that's me.
So after many a bottle of wine and my camera on self-timer I have forced myself to really examine my ass, and 500 digital pictures later I have come to the conclusion that while it will never rank with the Puerto-rican conterparts, it's not too bad. But it could use a gentle spanking on occassion.
*By the way, if you squint your eyes long enough you can see a donkey in that picture.
On Literature.
You can really find out about a woman by the books she reads. This is the only instance when you can judge a book by its cover. If she's reading something that has drawings of shoes or purses on the cover or the word sisterhood in the title you'd best steer clear. The summer before I moved to Italy I read Opus Pistorum (aka Under The Roofs of Paris). I remember laying out on the lawn nearly wetting my pants. Henry Miller was one sick motherfucker. But, fuck, why the hell was it so damn HOT. Then it dawned on me like a shot of….lightening. There was no shame in pleasure. Pleasure for the sake of pleasure. And pleasure shall always remain undefined. I was FREE…free from the sexual constructs that had bound me for so many years. And might I add, there were some extremely grateful Italian men who still preach the theraputic benefits of Henry Miller. So if you see me on the subway reading Sexus just know that's HOT and I probably am too at that moment.
Ok, I should've never brought up Henry Miller. Now, I may just have to excuse myself to the bathroom. Um, yeah…later.
*Oh, and I was kidding about the donkey thing, you dumb-ass.
Last 5 posts by Meme
- Mama don't Preach - May 18th, 2007
- You don't have to Fuck Me twice to get the point across - May 11th, 2007
- Update: Newsworthy? - May 4th, 2007
- Nipples, Pasties and Lesbians - April 27th, 2007
- Vagina! - April 20th, 2007


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— 4 February 2008 @ 10:49 pm
Comments
I saw a rabbit!
i’d never be able to read that kind of thing on the subway. or any mode of public transportation. i’d be too obsessed with seeing who is noticing me reading it, and…you know…if there were any takers.
I didn’t see a donkey. I saw my future, and it was glorious I tell you!
Glorious!
I felt sad. I saw a world where everyone had turned their backs on me and I had been reincarnated as a toilet.
I stared at the ass picture for a few minutes and I saw a Schooner!
And it should be the task of every man who dates to learn what’s on Oprah’s Reading List. No, not so we can have enlightened discussions with the chicks who read those books (gag). So when get invited up to her place we know to *not* call her *ever* again. (Sleeping with her that night is optional)
Interesting that the business of bums should come up now, around a full moon. (Wish I had one. Seriously - the downside of skinny is no ass!)
As for books, I’m always fascinated by what someone’s reading - so I ignored the foot. I noticed Miller. (Not that it wasn’t a fetching foot!)
As for those books and public transit … Nothing like sitting on a bus with a tent rising from your crotch. Though every so often you get a look of alarm from the blue-hairs.
i have ass envy. i wish i could switch some of my ample tit-age to my ass. that’d be so cool. sigh.
Yep, there’s a bunny in there…
I lost you at literature.
AJ, it’s a sailboat!
um Kristine, that’s the point.
a bunny rabbit…what the fuck? do i have to tilt my head or something?
yeah AJ, did i mention that i just finished reading Foucault’s Pendulum? i’d like to see Oprah’s audience tackle that one.
Ms. Sizz, your tits for my ass, ok?
i have plenty of tits and ass that i would be more than happy to donate to you, Meme.
PLENTY.
I’d like some too, please.
And yet, the band Live managed to combine both wondrous things in their song “Freaks,” which contains the lyric line “with a cigarette hangin’ out of your mouth and Henry Miller in your back pocket — you little fucker!”
Oh, and I’ll have some tits with a side order of ass too, please.
Talking of getting horny on a subway… and before you ask, this is the gospel truth.
I was once returning home a bit worse for wear from a party and got on the tube. I don’t remember much about getting there but I do distinctly remember arriving on the platform alone. The next thing I remember was being in a rather steamy embrace with a total stranger, on the train. I must have met her on the platform or train and somehow within about five minutes we were all over each other.
We went straight past my stop, making out in front of our fellow passengers until we found ourselves on the carriage alone, which is when things got even more interesting. It was incredible, the risk of getting caught every time we pulled into a station made it more brazen and urgent… we did everything but have full blown sex on the carriage. And I mean EVERYTHING.
When we reached the end of the line, we got dressed, got off the train and got a taxi to her place, where she said I couldn’t come in because she lived with her parents. Gulp. I don’t know how old she was but at that point it was time for me to make a swift exit!
why are you girls so dang mean? Is this a New York attitude that you have to be nasty and foul mouthed to get noticed there. do you really think you are on the edge and all so HOT? and clever? I bet you guys don’t really like girls like that really. I don’t know why I even come to this SKANKY site. What happened to your mothers? Did they not ever teach you to respect anything or anybody. And how the heck did you all get into 9rules with this mess. call me a blonde with a great future that doesn’t have to whine about it on the net.
Dear Somebody. Let’s break down your comment as it fascinates me.
Firstly, your random use of capitalization is disconcerting. And not in a cool, e.e. cummings sort of way. Second, you attacked these people anonymously which speaks to your cowardice. Cowgirl up and let’s get a look atcha. Let’s read YOUR words.
These girls are not “mean”. These girls are “strong”. There’s a difference. The language might be raw, but so are the emotions. It’s called honesty. It may not always be pretty, but it’s real and that’s why I come here. What? You don’t swear? Women who don’t swear are lousy in bed. Period.
I got news for ya: They are hot. They are clever. Yes, we guys like girls like this. A lot. (And often. And sometimes before breakfast.)
Thank you for using the word “skanky”. It’s been awhile since I’ve heard it. Now I’m all nostalgic n’ shit. Really. That was fresh and fly and whatnot.
“call me a blonde with a great future”… seriously, dude. Did you just ask to be referred to by your HAIR? You came to the WRONG place, sister. Go find a site that talks about hair and nails and pretty ribbons and teddy bears. This site talks about cock, pussy, piss and blood. Me? I’m staying right here.
So like where is your mom AJ? You haven’t read the latest skank bit posted as you would note that she used the word skank and blonde in her tirade on postys or was it bitchy roomates? I see you take your coffee with fingernail clippings. You wouldn’t know a great woman if you saw her because you are hanging around a horror flick full of horrible girls posing to be “strong women”. The days when a woman was strong because she was mysterious are not over. Remember Garbo? A man killer. But if you’d rather attack my punctuation hey you are a man deserving of these horrors. Good luck on getting your dip wicked and hopefully you’ll get a gal on her period. LOL
uh “Somebody”…are you just pissed cause you really thought you saw a donkey?
Did I just get served? I can’t really tell. Somebody’s sentence structure and use of odd metaphors confuzzles me. Let me try reading her comment aloud to make sense of it.
(beat)
No. Still nothing.
But “so like” and “LOL” were awesome. It’s like having an argument with Moon Unit Zappa. Like, totally, y’know?
Alright I confess. I looked way too long for the donkey and then finally read where I was “dumb ass” for even looking for the donkey. Can a girl be faulted for that? And I get way too many comments on being blonde for my own good. So I like you know use it to the best total way to manipulate when I feel the sarcasm coming on. There has to be a happy medium between outright bitchy honesty and passive agressiveness.Actually I am a science major into really geeky stuff and don’t get out that much. My bestest hot outfit consists of a pair of great sandals, a great fitting bra with wire, a white shirt and a below the knee black skirt. the other hot outfits are for nightime and are never worn out of the house. So there you go and sorry I had to flame AJ, he just got caught up in an attack of PMS. He’s probably an ok guy. So there you go….
Hmm… I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.
But you know me, I’m suspicious of all women.
AJ
There will be no other shoe, heel, boot or anything to fall on you. I won’t hurt you unless you ask me to very nicely then I will hunt down my bad girl emergency kit and the beatings or shoe droppings will commence. You like bad girls and that’s ok cause every girl has a bad girl inside. I need to let her out more often, just not on unsuspecting bloggers. Maybe more on Walmart greeters! And the latest blogger on rotton vegetables is a nice person, she cooks the way I do. So really you’re safe at least from me. And the girls here are really OK, btw my real name is Jennifer! kisses and all that your way