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Monday, August 22, 2005

WHITE: A strange vacuum 

Well, the darndest thing happened. The people paying our wages over at work decided they would withdraw funds so we're not being paid anymore. That doesn't mean a lot in terms of work - it just means Dolly can now legitimately do nothing without feeling guilty. It does, however, mean quite a lot in terms of the sudden pay cut she's suffering.

Fortunately, as luck will have it, lots of other jobs have popped up along the way that pay well and give her the excuse to eat, watch movies and shop for a living (literally!). It may not say much for the credibility of her career, but then, quite the same could be said of dubious, though very rich businessmen everywhere!

[Coincidentally, Dolly's been reading Belle de Jour's book which is leading her to believe that life as a high class call girl may just be the next best alternative to writing trashy fashion columns. Then again, she couldn't bear the thought of having sex with something old, grey, smelly and/or fat. She's also a terrible liar - it would be difficult to feign interest and the likes. Hats off to those who can - they must be given more credit than they get. Evidently, this may be one instance where being a choosy perfectionist is not a desirable trait for employment.]

In the meantime, Dolly's biding her time by writing about make-up, Angelina Jolie's boobs and the dilemmas of dating, having long lunches, lying in 'til noon and reacquainting herself with the pleasures of a pink vibrator (all things, you must admit, that can't really be done on the time and money of a proper job).

This pay-cut: perhaps it's a blessing in disguise!

ps don't worry, will put a stop to writing about the dilemmas of work. Sorry it's been a bit of a dry patch of late. Blogger's block and the general staleness of life.

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

BROWN: Nipples II 

There's thing about sleeping naked that I just can't appreciate. I've tried it many a time, trying desperately to enjoy it (makes for less laundry, after all) but it just doesn't work. (And it makes no difference if I sleep alone or not).

First, that's that thing about feeling colder than usual which can be solved only by wearing something. Perhaps it's psychological - nighties and slips after all, are made up of scant material which don't actually do much to stave off the cold but it does provide the mental illusion of warmth.

Then there's that second unpleasant thing about waking up in the middle of a nice dream with cold, hard nipples which doesn't ever, in a half sleepy state, feel sexy. It's irritating, cold, almost hurts and brushes against cold bits of the duvet are quite the "touch sense" equivalent of hearing nails down a blackboard.

So. Nothing desirable about that at all, I'm afraid. I could just turn the airconditioning down, but then it gets too hot and I can't sleep. How do those Hollywood people (or women in French movies) make it look so comfortable, so very fun? Those of you who do sleep starkers, please explain how you make it work.

Friday, August 12, 2005

BROWN: Chocolate! 

Dolly has been terribly spoilt of late... and all because of work! Last night, she was treated to an excellent free meal, where the chef cooked up 10 different dishes just for her to sample for a food review. After she stuffed her face with fried calamari, butter garlic prawns, pasta, creme caramel, bread and butter pudding and a chocolate banana smoothie, she went home to slumber.

When she awoke this morning, it was time to trip off to a press screening of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (for a film review). Waking up for Johnny Depp and a chocolate river is no hard task, not even for Dolly who loves her sleep.

That said, it was absolutely splendid. Chocolate, candy, Johnny in a red velvet suit and horrible rightful punishment for rude impertinent children is the most wonderful way to spend any morning. What can she say? Much of Dolly's love, life and being of now has been largely influenced by the fiction of Roald Dahl (which in her opinion, kicks JK Rowling's behind far beyond any parallel magical universe). Anyone who grew up without reading Dahl should feel ashamed; Dahl fans know that there is something missing, something not quite right about The People Who Never Read Dahl.

Anyway, for those of you who did miss out, you can do your catching up with the movie at least. It never hurts anyone to have a bit of magic in their lives. If nothing else, indulge your chocolate longings.

Thursday, August 11, 2005

PINK: Nighties and nipples 

Having your high beams on can be attractive some of the time, but to her great distress Dolly has realised that it doesn't quite look right through pastel-coloured satin nighties. Instead, through baby pinks and corals, the shadow of two rudely protruding nipples isn't actually at all sexy anymore. It just looks plain ridiculous and gross, like you kind of forgot something.

This is about the only time when Dolly does not fully enjoy flouncing about in pink. In fact, it's the only time that she'll nod in the direction of blacks and reds - after all, they do the best tricks in the bedroom and (perhaps ironically) work most efficiently in getting you undressed, no?

Monday, August 08, 2005

GREEN: Vegetables 

I know I'll sound like my mother when I say this, but isn't there something slightly gross about people who never eat vegetables? (Kids excluded - no kid likes vegetables).

WHITE (and other colours): Cock 

Have decided to alternate between first and third person. Am far too self-absorbed to completely denounce the "I" completely.

Alright alright, I'll make up for the neglect by writing about (almost) everyone's favourite topic. There seems to be rather an excitable discussion about cocks. Hence:

Let's be a bit controversial and say, well, they're a bit ugly really, as most bits are. You know, the whole dangly, veiny, shrunken look can be quite frightful, some even repellant. And yet we remain endlessly fascinated by it! Dolly remembers that a night out during her younger uni once ended up in a longconversation with some sailors about a girl's fascination with cock. They were quite amused but probably regretted having spent their only night out talking to someone so very sociable but in completely the wrong way (The folly of being 21...!).

It is true that at the height of passionate encounters, there mere sighting of a hard, swollen cock is excitable. Indeed, visual stimuli can be entirely responsible for the stirrings of bodily fluids. As I've said many a time before, I feel sadly for girls averse to blowjobs. I find there is nothing quite as sensual as feeling every crevice of a cock against lips and the insides of your mouth, or the swelling pressure building against your own softened fingers. Here, the veins turn into something enticing, its pressing up against taut skin an indication that whatever your lipshandslube are doing is quite what it likes.

And having it inside you: that initial breaking past of a tight wall, almost resistant and so very willing at the same time. That cossetted, electric feeling of such close friction and pressure of skin as it fights tough against each other. A cock movingthrustingslowfast inside you forms a funny sort of dual feeling that is both comforting yet desperately urgent: Comforting for the spaces that are filled, expanded and hugged, and urgent because there is that subconscious awareness that it might-will-haveto stop, eventually...

...Until next time.

Wouldn't you all agree?

Saturday, August 06, 2005

BLUE: Possibly maybe 

There are two meanings to possibly maybes:

1) An unsuspecting male friend who you force into promising marriage if/when you're both 40 and find yourself depressed and alone. In Dolly's case, it was a very smiley obliging boy, Al, she knew vaguely through a friend of a friend of a friend... A bottle of wine and a raucous university party made her think thought it would be funny to ask him to marry her when they're 30. Strange thing was, even after she sobered up, it still seemed an alright sort of idea. Al wasn't so bad, was splendid company and great conversation and he had an interesting last name.

2) The boy(s) you hold forever dear in your heart. Let's not kid ourselves. All of us, whether we're single or not, have someone like this - a possibly maybe that is vamped up in your fantasies as the ideal other you want to spend your evenings with. S/he's never near perfect of course, but you believe they are or might be. They certainly never seem to do anything wrong. It's a way, thinks Dolly, to keep you on your toes so you don't get too complacent wherever you are. If nothing else, it makes for more interesting friendships. It especially helps if they're far away - allows for much greater idealisation. Distance makes the heart grow fonder etc.

Anyway, interestingly enough, Dolly's possibly maybe #2, SF, is one of possibly maybe #1, Al's close friends (ah, we all move in circles). Dolly's has worryingly frequent sex dreams about SF, all of which are of course, as with all possibly maybes, decadent and utterly blissful at the time they're happenning. Let's hope they never ever actually have sex proper, it may be so disappointing.

It's never just about sex though: Possibly maybes are ideal and perfect in every way. Dolly has managed to convince herself that SF understands her in a way no-one else ever would. This may be because they spent many a long rambling Sunday doing nothing in particular together (much can be learned about someone that way) or just because he seems to remember and be excited about everything she's ever doing at any given time. He thinks she's wonderful and vice versa so they have spent much time just delighting over each other's mere company.

It helps of course, that he is exquisitely beautiful and standing next to him, Dolly looks delicate, thin (and anyone who can do that must be worth something) and more fabulous than normal.

Dolly's most recent dream involved SF writing a long letter from afar confessing an undying love for her. As luck would have it, she only managed to glimpse a few lines before she was called away to something else and she never did get round to reading the letter in the dream.

Then again, it was just a dream and quite possibly maybe a "never" for real life.

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

YELLOW: Birthday cake 

Dolly has turned a ripe old age of 24 - there were cake, candles and a blissful day at the shops. Having spent the last three birthdays quietly, she has decided that birthdays are best spent just pottering around on your own. Note that Dolly never uses this day for any sort of serious retrospective thinking, 5 year goals and all that gloomy rubbish. She thinks it should be a day to drink coffee where you want, be idle, go shopping, stuff your face with cake without anyone seeing. There's something kind of nice just having that one day of the year entirely to yourself and not feel guilty about neglecting anything or anyone.

And so, Dolly spent the whole day buying mini skirts and then the boy cooked a big pot of pasta full of cream.

PS, Been shit and lacksadaisical about writing in here. You see, suddenly people at work realised she wasn't actually doing any work so she had to start doing some before they took away her cheques. She hasn't forgotten you, and as a way of making up the absense will next write about cocks, since you're all so terribly keen on willies.

PSS Dolly has a new column - if you missed it in StarWeekend, it's here

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