I haven’t been online all day, and it was only during the recording of the podcast when my housemate Ben came into my room that I found out that David Bowie died today. So, while the story has been proliferated throughout social media and sunderstandably seems to be the major topic of conversation today, this blog post was written entirely ignorant of the news. And now here’s today’s Dollop.
Hello to Chloe who commented on yesterday’s blog post saying: “David, might there be a gap in the market for erotic fiction recited in a northern accent?”
I think it’s clear what Chloe is driving at here. She was obviously turned on by me reading the erotic fiction extract at the start of yesterday’s podcast version of the blog, which incidentally you can subscribe to with Itunes here, or go here for the Rss feed where you can subscribe with other subscribing platforms. Before Chloe gets too excited, when I say you can subscribe, I am merely referring to the podcast version of this blog, not a podcast of me reading out erotic fiction. I think that Chloe is, in a roundabout way, essentially putting in her request for me to release some kind of audio erotica series, but she’s a bit timid about asking in such a brazen way so disguised her desire in a sentence that sounded nonchalant and a little tongue in cheek (which reminds me of one of the scenes from that erotic novel; I believe A Little Tongue In Cheek was actually one of the chapter titles).
I’m glad you enjoyed yesterday’s blog post Chloe, and I’m sorry I hadf to ruin it for you by curtailing the fantasy before it properly got going. She started losing interest when I got to the made-up conversation bit, but when I started talking about gelatinous rice, she began to get turned on again. We all have our needs Chloe; don’t be shy about admitting yours, even if it is that you get turned on by North East males talking about gelatinous rice. If I can find another nine like-minded people, then I’ll be happy to do half an hour erotic fiction podcasts once a month, for a monthly fee of £5, although, I’m not sure whether we’ll be able to find anyone else who finds similar potency in me reading erotic fiction that includes mentions of gelatinous rice; I think you might be on your own there. However, I am willing to produce a special bespoke podcast just for you, but that will cost you £50 a month. Let me know if either of these things interest you Chloe. I promise though Chloe that you won’t be disappointed. I already have the perfect character to satiate your unique brand of fantasy: Gelatinous Geordie, who shares your trait of being turned on by gloop, and obviously also speaks in a strong North East accent. I know you’re a bit shy about all this Chloe, so feel free to message me privately.
I am able to view various statistics for this website, including what pages people have viewed on my blog, but also what external links people click on. Only one person so far has clicked on the link I put in yesterday’s blog post linking to the erotic fiction novel I pilfered from. I think we all know who that was Chloe. It won’t be the same though without me reading it.
Also, I’ve noticed that everyday there is always at least one person who visits a particular blog that I wrote years ago. I can’t help feeling that nearly every single one of these people have been bitterly disappointed upon discovering what it is. The name of the blog post is Mongol Sex. It talks about the fact that a few years ago I noticed that one particular blog post was getting more visits than all the other pages on my site. The blog post was detailing why I have always been interested in radio, and tells the story of when I was seven-years-old, listening to an old shortwave radio late at night under the bed clothes.
The shortwave frequency boasted every type of radio station from every place on the earth. I remember tuning into a French radio station one night to hear the sound of two women groaning. At first (being about seven at the time) I assumed perhaps they were in pain, but as I listened longer I realised that they were very much enjoying themselves. I got my first sex education lesson about lesbianism at the ag of seven, thanks to French shortwave radio. I was also the only person in my class to be so fluent in French. Sadly, the teacher wasn’t impressed by me knowing the French for dildo. Still, you never know when such information might come in handy. In case you’re interested, it’s godemiché. So now you don’t need to google it Chloe, pretending that it’s merely innocent linguistic curiosity, because I’ve just told you what it is. So, if you want to google “French dildo” then that’s fine, but don’t try and pass it off as anything else other than your rampant sexual desire to see some French lesbian action Chloe. It’s perfectly acceptable Chloe; just be honest, and we’d respect you a lot more for it.
The slightest touch of the knob (by which I mean the radio knob, you dirty animals – Chloe, calm down) can tune you into a completely different station and into a completely different world. One moment you’re listening to an enraged American evangelist damning you to hell in a threatening deep gruff voice unless you send him money, then you touch the dial ever so slightly and you’re listening to a French radio drama with Lesbian sex scenes; then the sound of a Mongolian throat singer, belting out the popular Mongolian hits of the day.
So basically I wrote a blog about my formative radio experiences, and I ended up getting loads of hits for it, although when I did some digging into the stats, it soon became clear that people had come across my website because they had googled search terms such as: “mongol sex,” “Mongolian sex,” “Mongolian lesbians,” “Mongolian lesbian dildo deep throat,” all words that appeared in my blog post, only in a very different order and in a very different context to the one hoped for by the googlers.
I would imagine that you’d have to go quite a way into the search results before my blog post came up, but some people do find it by googling those words, which makes me wonder just how insatiable their appetite must be for this kind of thing. They must have already looked at tuns of porn sites, but still felt that they’d not seen quite enough Mongolian lesbian sex scenes yet, so just kept ploughing deeper and deeper through the internet. Feverishly, their hands shaking, they clicked onto my website, and instantly their hearts sank, as presumably did the bulge in their pants, when a photo of me popped up on the screen, and their eyes scanned the disappointing litany of words about some seven-year-old’s boring experience of shortwave radio.
“Oh well, at least I learnt the French for dildo, so it’s been a bit educational I suppose. And in fairness, I have wasted the entire day watching Mongolian lesbian sex scenes. And I’ve still got tomorrow’s sermon to write.”
Haha! See what I did. He’s a priest. My fictional character is a priest. Adding another unexpected layer of comedy. I’m unstoppable!
I wonder if anyone will find this blog post through googling, “mongol lesbian sex deep throat dildo priest.” Time will tell. I wonder if I have any regular readers of this blog who first stumbled across me when searching for porn, and got hooked. Apart from Chloe obviously, who’s never commented on any of my blog posts before, but suddenly comes out of the woodwork when I start writing erotic fiction. Coincidence? I think not.
So, what have we learnt today? That if you’re searching for porn on the internet, maybe stop by result 1000, or you might start stumbling across folk singer’s blogs. And I hope that Chloe has learnt that we all love you, and none of us are judging you, so don’t feel ashamed and embarrassed about being turned on by me talking about gelatinous rice.