Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Hot for him

Went out for a lovely dinner last night....a cozy neighborhood place, with all the right atmosphere, even a scantily clad woman at a neighboring table who had the patrons clacking; and a fully undressed waitress in the ladies room who said to me, "Excuse me. I have to fix my bra. Somebody put something in my shirt." Was it the wine, or was that slightly odd? The meal was incredible. There was gnocci and bruschetta and lamb and sea scallops. There was creme brulee and chocolate cake and amazing after-dinner coffee, which probably led one thing to another.... I fell asleep easily enough, so satisfied, then awoke in the middle of the night, startled by a naughty dream. A good dirty dream -- who doesn't love a good dirty dream? But I slept fitfully and wantingly after that, which left a rough-edged feeling that lingered all day and strangely made it difficult to write. So I shuffled papers and matched socks and walked in the woods and wandered about the blogs.....making some new discoveries along the winding path....about food and sex and figs and Susie Bright.

From Viviane's Sex Carnival, a post about "food porn" and porn porn.

Like sex porn, gastroporn addresses the most basic human needs and functions, idealizing and degrading them at the same time.

“You watch porn saying, Yes, I could do that,” explained Nitke. “You dream that you’re there, but you know you couldn’t. The guy you’re watching on the screen, his sex life is effortless. He didn’t have to negotiate, entertain her, take her out to dinner. He walked in with the pizza. She was waiting and eager and hot for him.”

Which reminded me of my conversation with Food Network programming VP Bob Tuschman. “We create this sensual, lush world, begging you to be drawn into it,” Tuschman had said. “It’s a beautifully idealized world. Who wouldn’t want to be a part of that world?”

....which led to D.H. Lawrence and his amazing poem: How to Eat a Fig in Society

Every fruit has its secret.
The fig is a very secretive fruit.
As you see it standing growing, you feel at once it is symbolic :
And it seems male.

But when you come to know it better, you agree with the Romans, it is female.
The Italians vulgarly say, it stands for the female part ; the fig-fruit :
The fissure, the yoni,
The wonderful moist conductivity towards the centre.

The flowering all inward and womb-fibrilled ;
And but one orifice.

The fig, the horse-shoe, the squash-blossom.

There was a flower that flowered inward, womb-ward ;
Now there is a fruit like a ripe womb.

It was always a secret.
That’s how it should be, the female should always be secret.

And finally, I discovered that Susie Bright has sexy crafty food/sewing blog. It's very cool.

Little Susie Homebreaker: Damn, these apples sound tasty! Mom's Baked Apples with the Marshmallow Butt Plug

I stuffed the apples with a flourish. "It's like a marshmallow buttplug!"

Steve said: "If my mother heard that, she would die."

Baked apples are easy-peasy to prepare, and will blow your Thanksgiving guests' minds. People have forgotten the tasty genius of a basic baked apple, and they'll worship you for reminding them of what's right and good in the world.

Just remember, Don't Tell Steve's Mom.


Jeremy Edwards said...

[Checks LavAzza can in pantry.]

Hmm ... no erotic photo on the label. I must be buying the wrong kind.

[Checks neighborhood restaurant.]

Hmm ... no naked waitress. Someone must have forgotten to put something in her shirt.

Neve Black said...

Cozy, neighborhood place complete with scantily clad patrons and naked waitresses in the toilett? A fabulous dinner and one thing leading to another?

Damn, girl. That sounds like heaven to me.

Kirsten Monroe said...

Now I'm giggling -- I didn't want the naked waitress to feel bad about her exposure (shirt off exposed, her apron was pulled down around her waist and I'm pretty sure everything was in place below there) so I said something completely silly like, "Oh, no problem! Gotta do what you gotta do!" :)

Kirsten Monroe said...

"Checks LavAzza can" need a LavAzza calendar Jeremy!