Just Something

So, I have a new years aim: I must try and write something on here at least once a fortnight. This probably won't happen, but I am going to try.

My brain has slightly run out of things to talk about, but on the other hand I have gotten some creative work done (woot, 5 paragraphs). So I have also decided that to make me keep my brain working I shall start to put up regularly (sort of) some of my story stuff. Now, I don't think of myself as a writer, it is just something I occasionally do, so if it doesn't make sense or seems odd or just isn't good well, its your choice as to whether you read it or not. I will have to spend some time figuring out what sections to put up, because since I have never written more than 10,000 words for a single piece there isn't anything you could call 'chapters' in any of them (and no being mean about the titles, none of them are official, looking at you Kat).

But since this is all to start after the new year has begun I should prob write something coherent and legible right now.

As a kid I thought so many things about what I would be like when I was an adult. So, as a 14 year old and younger this is what I thought my life would be like at 21:
I thought I would be a vet (eh, zoo arch is kinda like being a vet right?)
I thought I would be a poet (don't ask, I don't know where any of it is)
I thought I would be getting married (yeah, I know, tis laughable)
If I wasn't with someone then I would be living by myself in the most super awesome house ever (that I designed myself because I did architecture on the side)
I thought I would be well travelled (passport, must also get that done next year)
I thought I would hang out every weekend at some super awesome bar (grocery shopping counts as going out right?)
I thought I would wear high heels any where I wanted to (ouch, why did I think that was ever a good idea?)
I thought I would drink wine like a fancy person (it is so not as good as I thought it would be)
I thought I would have one of those cute little cars, preferably red (need license)
I thought I would have built up awesome self esteem but still have the ability to be all dark and brooding when need be (I succeeded at neither)
I thought I would be published, whether it be creative or academic (wow, I had really high expectations of myself)

Now, I'm not saying I have failed at life at 21, because I totally haven't, I just sucked at being realistic about what I can and can't do, and also about what I actually do and don't want to do, when I was a kid and wishing every thing about myself was better and most of all different. All up I thought I would have figured out life by 21.

I don't want you to think I am sad about all this. I'm not, I am mainly amused thinking back to what I thought being an adult was like. When you are 10 you just assume you will learn how to start relationships and start your dream career and learn how to like yourself (all of it). When you are 21 you sit there thinking, "did they forget to teach me something at school, I swear I missed something". It's not a bad thing. There are some things that I genuinely did miss getting taught at school, but there are somethings that I did get taught that have helped me.

I thought I would know everything I didn't know as a child when I grew up, if anything I am more naive than I was before (also less pretentious, I was a pretentious little child). Whether this is a good thing or not, I don't know, all I do know is that it is fine for me to not be what I thought I would be as a child.

Love you all
Milly

Moo?!

Na na na na na na na na BatCow!!!!

BatCow disapproves. I don't though, so you need not worry about any stern looks or undeserving stares here. This is an Eyes of Judgement free zone (unless your belief that BatCow is watching is keeping you from being naughty right now, then yes, yes this is a place that judges you with the great and weary eyes of your disappointed BatCow).

Now that we have this sorted we can move on to me finding something to talk to you about. At first I thought about telling you about how I want to make Chicken Noodle soup from scratch. However even I can't think of enough things to say about that.

"I have a passion for skin."

Oh Dear Lord television....Do you not see how these phrases can be misinterpreted? Well, I guess I have a topic? I'm really not entirely sure, but hey, here I go.

What does this passion mean? What does it involve? "Lip smacking feast." I really am not choosing the best timings to take quotes from the tv. Well, let us just see where this will go. I do have to say though, skin is delicious. chicken skin and pig skin in particular. I will freely admit to being one of those annoying people that steals the skin off the BBQ or roast chicken whilst cutting it up. Why? Because it is bloody well delicious that is why. As to pig skin? Crackling is the pigs' gift to man (apart from bacon).

The other alternative is that someone out there likes flaying people and eating their skin. Kind of like the creepy guy in Game of Thrones (well, Song of Ice and Fire since the tv show hasn't caught up with this part of the books). I don't think you really want to hear about the flaying and the crisping and the cannibalism that I am only momentarily going to refer too. Mainly 'cos it is icky.

Ham. My household loves ham. It is indeed a brilliant food stuff. I had baked ham for the first time last Easter. It was scrumptious. Ham is a gift from pigs as well (well, apparently when pigs evolved they didn't quite realise how much they were evolving to be delicious).

Well, I guess I sort of talked about some things.

^_^
Milly

Quotes I just remembered were on my FB profile

"Zoology, eh? That's a big word, isn't it."
"No, actually it isn't," said Tiffany. "Patronizing is a big word. Zoology is really quite short."
The Wee Free Men

"The trouble with witches is that they'll never run away from things they really hate.
And the trouble with small furry animals in the corner is that, just occasionally, one of them's a mongoose"
Witches Abroad

" 'Things that try to look like things often do look more like things than things. Well-known fact,' said Granny"
Wyrd Sisters

"You can't trample infidels when you're a tortoise, I mean all you can give them is a meaningful look" Small Gods

"The labyrinth of Ephebe is ancient and full of one hundred and one amazing things you can do with hidden springs, razor-sharp knives and falling rocks"
Small Gods

"Racism is not a problem on the Discworld, because - what with the trolls and dwarves and so on - specieism is more interesting. Black and white live in harmony and gang up on green"
Witches Abroad

"The Duke had a mind that ticked like a clock, and, like a clock, it regularly went cuckoo"
Wyrd Sisters

"Poets have tried to describe Ankh-Morpork. They have failed. Perhaps its the sheer zestful vitality of the place, or maybe its just that a city with a million inhabitants and no sewers is rather robust for poets, who prefer daffodils and no wonder"
Mort

"Destiny is something you cannot escape, such as death, or a cheesecake that has curdled, both of which always turn up sooner or later"
Lemony Snicket

"If you are allergic to a thing, it is best not to put that thing in your mouth, especially if that thing is cats"
Lemony Snicket

"It is very unnerving to be proven wrong, particularly when you are really right and the person who is wrong is the one proving you wrong and proving himself, wrongly, right. Right?"
Lemony Snicket

"Mummy snores like a monster, it goes RAWR"
little kid on tv show The Doctors

Things We Learn

From the moment we are born we learn things. Sensory input from our ears, eyes, skin, nose, mouth, internal nervous system, everything starts to collect information for us, providing us with experiences which inform us about the world around us. Other human beings then start using these inbuilt sensors to teach us about how to use this experiences in order to survive, both physically, like how not to burn or stab oneself, and psychologically, like how to fit in with the social expectations of the culture you were born into. Despite these peoples best efforts we will start to form our own private opinions on the world around us, developing our own instincts in order to protect us from the world and begin to develop instinctive reactions to the thing around us that were created by social interaction, as opposed to natural instincts that inform us when we should eat and when we should sleep. We learn to balance our natural instincts with our developed instincts and then we become people like everyone else.

And people are terrible in deciding what is a natural instinct and what is a created instinct. We behave and react in ways developed and decided upon by our experiences in trying to survive in the human world that is not governed by natural principles but by principles governed by cultural ideologies. We assume on the most part that the principles of life as laid out by the cultural ideologies of the social group we were born into are the natural principles of life. Sometimes we break out, we try to go back to a simpler way of living, a way of life more in sinc with nature. But we fail at this every time because it is still based on a culturally based ideology, because no matter what, we cannot escape our experiences. We cannot escape our ability to turn basic sensory information into little pieces of data that fit into a wider framework of what we know as our existence. The basic fact that we ponder our existence in the first place.

But this is not a rant about philosophy. Or a psychological delve into anthropological ideas or even a delve into our own psychology itself. This is me, and I wish to talk about the things we learn in life. Nothing deep, nothing particularly informative. The first section was simply me trying to regain what is left of my intelligence and ability to make complex arguments in a semi academical way. Self serving, yes. Self important? Hell yes. I like to occasionally think of myself as an academic creature. The fact that I am writing this in a couch chair, in the lounge of a rental house, whilst I am jobless, relying on the government to survive and am incapable at this time of leaving the house due to a rising feeling of inadequacy is besides the point. I prefer to think of it as me being a genius that is hiding my brilliance away from the world in order to stop people from people being blinded by said brilliance. What I have learned from simply writing this is that I am sincerely bored with my life, but have a lack of motivation in order for me to do anything to fix it. Not for the first time I have learned that I am lazy.

But this article is not primarily about me. After all I did use the word "We" in the title, not "Me". So, what do we learn? Movies tell us that we learn many things in life, most of them revolving around learning to love. Love what exactly? Ourselves, those close to us, love our job, our position in life, strangers. Learn from our suffering as well. Or if our lives are seemingly perfect, learn through the suffering of others until we have some sort of life affirming moment that leads back around to learning about love. But we all know from our own experiences that movies are rather more formulaic than real life. I guess what I am saying is that one of the things we learn is that life does not work like a movie plot.

But this is not about silly life observations of the fact that life is never like a story. This is about deeper truths. Just to clarify I said "deeper", I did not say "deep". That would imply that these truths will reveal anything about the depths of our hearts and minds, reveal the soul etc...because it won't. Maybe one day I will write something deep, something about my own personal theological views of the world. This is not that article. I really don't have the brain power. Deeper implies that it won't be some everyday observation, but not so deep that it will instill in you, the reader, with some kind of soul searching thought. If it does then you are having a much more intelligent day than I am. Either that or your some sort of psychologist trying to ream information about myself so that you can analyse me. If so your creepy. Go away and delve deeply into someones else psyche, mine is off limits thank you very much. (I just scrunched up my face and poked my tongue out at you, just so you know).

This ridiculously long piece of rambling is about the Things We Learn. Simple things. Let me list a few hings that I have learned in the past week.
1) If I keep getting the same haircut then of course people won't notice. They are not the ones that obsessively look at my hair in the mirror, it is me that does that. If you are the type of person that obsessively uses a mirror to look at someone else hair then that's just creepy and you really shouldn't do that. Especially if it involves you hiding in a bathroom or waiting til the person is asleep. 
2) That catching one piece of public transport to a place nearby is an acceptable effort, but having to change over to a second piece of transport (or worse, more than 2) is horrible, way too much effort and as such one shall stay home thank you very much. This is not out of laziness, but a piece of logic happens to see that it something is illogical, one must not do it. Because we all know public transport is meant to be logical and all.
3) That yet again a sarcasm font would be a brilliant thing to have, but at the same time it would be annoying and also an eyesore to change font every time you wish to convey a different tone of
speech. I like my sense of aesthetics, changing fonts ruins that.

Now, this finally leads to my point. Ha, you thought I would never reach it did you? Millytalksalot would simply talk a lot. Well, I never, judging a blog by it's name, how dare you? I mean seriously, how dare you? I would like to know. Mainly because I like the idea that someones sense of bias is due to them being daring, as opposed to them being human and programmed to judge things according to how their society raised them ideologically. Also it's really fun to say. The best results are when you say it with an imperious aristocratic English accent. Like a 60 something society dame floating around the inner circles of upper class London. Also fun to say is "Well I never" in the same way. Did you notice my wonderfulness of putting both sayings in the same sentence? Re-read that sentence, out loud, in that voice. Try not to smile....I dare you.

Anyway, back to the point. My point here is that we are always learning something. And that something is usually trivial, but at the same time informs us in such a way that it affects our nature. Affects our reactions to things. It is the way that they inform us in a way that is apart from the Things We Need To Learn, those things don't incite curiosity. They don't incite imagination. They don't excite the mind. The Thing We Need To Learn is how to eat with a spoon, but the Things We Learn, is how our reflection goes all funny due to the curved surface of the spoon. The first means we now know how to efficiently transfer food into our mouth form whatever object it was previously on, the second makes us wonder why curved surfaces do that to our reflection. This doesn't mean it will make us delve into how light refraction or eyesight works, but it certainly does provide in the least some bemused confusion and amusement.

It is the simple fact that trivial things create moments, thoughts and ideas that are far from trivial. It is the Things We Learn. And they are wonderful.

"Alien sex, is dangerous sex"

As I sit here, indulging in my love for both noodles and English comedic television, I am struck by the line as said by an educational recording (and mouthed along to by Teal) that really says everything. "Alien sex, is dangerous sex." What a wonderful piece of advice. If Doctor Who is anything to go by that advice is not the kind of advice the human race will ever adhere to. But as the rest of the episode of Hyperdrive tells us, fraternising with sentient beings of other planets leads to unwanted marriages and ludicrous escape plans. Now, this is going to go somewhere, where that is I don't actually know right at this point.

This line resonated with me. The educational recording ended on that wonderful line after talking briefly of there being more than two arms and or the presence of tentacles to stop and think about the actions one is ab out to make. How else would one know to not have sexual relations with another not of ones own species I do not know. The advice one can get from humorous tv shows is marvelous. It informs us of both our promising highs and our degrading lows. All for our amusement. Our wonderful, laugh out loud amusement. Set in another reality, another time, and with fantastical peoples, beasts and robots, we can laugh our asses off at idiotic people in idiotic situations. Also there is pretty colours and silly noises as well.

But back onto the original point of this, "Alien sex. is dangerous sex." How one can find this useful in everyday life can be seen in a myriad of ways. First, in this galactic age, you have to be aware of the damage you can do to your self esteem if you choose to inhabit the same sleeping place as a martian. I mean really, naming the new Mars rover Curiosity is like a announcing that we as humans are a bunch of oversexed and over easy college girls. Sure, we are intelligent, but we are also curious, this can only lead to a human leaving the habitation quarters of an alien life form feeling sad and full of self loathing.

Second, physical injury. You would think that this would be the first issue arising from Alien sex but since humans are a sadistic bunch I feel it is best relegated in second place to feelings of loathing and shame. Who knows what kind of bodily fluids Aliens could have and what affects they would have on the human system. Well I certainly don't know and because I choose to adhere to the brilliant advice of the HMS Camdon Locke's education video I won't find out.

Well, rambling is a wonderful thing. If you can understand any of what I just wrote please feel free to tell me and translate.

Love you all,
Milly

Whiter than White

There are many things that can be said to be ‘whiter than white’. It’s a hard thing to explain, and a hard thing to define, but every now and then you see, hear or experience something that can be called ‘whiter than white’. It has been a term used since the early 90s, often to denote when someone who is of Caucasian appearance attempts to do something that is part of African-American pop or street culture. The experience is usually one of unrealised awkwardness, and can lead to onlookers being bemused, confused, disturbed or downright worried about the actions of those performing the so-called ‘whiter than white’ actions.

A popular representation of such people is that of a male youth (or more than one if you are unfortunate enough) attempting to pull off the kind of clothing worn by a street kid from Harlem, but in a decisively not quite right way, and attempting to sing along to a rap song and affect the lingo that they consider to be ghetto, street or rap.

In Australia this is usually found when near boys between the ages of 14 and 20 who seem to have a complete disregard for the ears of others in public spaces, and a complete disregard for any fashion sense and as such assault the eyes as well. A typical ‘whiter than white’ male youth here have a propensity for wearing unfortunately coloured basketball jerseys (most likely of a team they have never watched) and baseball caps. This ensemble is often set off with baggy jeans, though thankfully this has slowly waned in the last decade since the horrific trends of the 90s.

I shall now recount to you the incident that set off this line of thought. Whilst on my way to a friend’s place I had to take a short bus ride as the first part of my journey. When I got onto the bus and sat down I started noticing something. This something was rap music issuing from a phones speaker that belonged to someone at the back of the bus. I figured out quickly, through them talking, that this was the phone of a teenage boy and his friend. One of them started to rap along to the song playing. This made me smile and chuckle to myself. For so many reasons.

The first reason being that the boy attempting to rap along could not keep up with the artist he was trying to follow. The second being that his accent, being so very firmly Australian, and the singers being so firmly American, they were not compatible. The inflections issuing from his mouth were entirely wrong, and occasionally he resorted to making random noises in the “that sort of sounds right” range of singing along noises. Third, and finally, the boys seemed to think that the music was hardcore in some way, talking about it as if it was so crude that they were so bad for listening to it upon a bus. This I found to be the most amusing. Sure, it wasn’t an Australian radio friendly rap song, but there was minimal swearing (I couldn’t actually hear any but I feel for them to feel that it as being so cool it must have had swearing at some point yes?) and there were no particularly stand out offensive phrasing.

Whilst listening to this going on behind me all I could think was this, “this is whiter than my legs after they get waxed in the middle of winter”, my own personal way of saying that something is ‘whiter than white’, because dear lord, am I white. The two boys got off the bus the stop before me, and that was when I first saw them, and could truly appreciate the most amusing horror of it all. They were wearing matching bright yellow, oversized basketball jerseys, caps turned backward and slightly to the side, and, lastly, one wearing fairly average looking jeans whilst the other was wearing parachute pants (something I had honestly thought had been locked in a 90s time vault never to be released again onto the unsuspecting world). I also couldn’t help wondering if they had been transferred forward in time from 2003, because that was what boys I went to high school with wore. I genuinely thought that people stopped dressing like that after 2005, at least anyone over the age of 12 anyway. After all that look can be endearing on a 10 year old, but not so much after their voice has broken and, one would assume, they were trying in some way to attract female attention.

After the boys got off the bus another thing occurred. A thing that caused me to shake with laughter for a minute or so, I almost laughed out loud. The bus driver, with the boys’ music now gone from the bus, now took his turn to put on the radio to a station he liked and turn the music up. This is the defining moment of my happiness at this experience. The song that was playing, and yes the song is very white, was an ABBA song, and this, this is the point in which I thought, “those boys are whiter than ABBA”.

So, here it is to those that unknowingly, unwittingly, and most of all, unintelligently, attempt to copy a culture that does not translate to their own. To those that misunderstand the thoughts, ideas and reality that created that culture. And finally to those that, without ever knowing it, make someone’s day through the hilarity caused by their own ineptness at being part of a cultural group that would laugh their asses off if they ever encountered them.

So ladies and gentlemen, raise whatever drinking vessel you have nearby you to these boys. The boys that made me happy, by making me cringe.

FB convos and why paraphrasing is fun

"You had me at all the birthdays...I agree to do what ever you want of me...So Milly what do you want of me?"

This could either be cake or a friend that loves cake. Either way, it sounds suspicious. This is some of the things that happen when you paraphrase FB conversations. Sometimes hilarity, sometimes dirtiness, other times a complete lack of sense.

This isn't even going to be a full post. You know the kind, with the lots of words and occasional creativity. No, this is simply because reposting that particular paraphrasing, whilst amusing, would get looks of consternation from certain friends and relatives on FB. I like looks of consternation better when it is either me or coming from someone I don't know and as such can't see the disappointment in their eyes due to my picturing the look in my head.  Also, I like the word consternation. 'Tis a good word.

Anyway, I just wanted to share that little piece of random amusingness so bye bye, perhaps later on i shall think of something more interesting to say.

Reader...a baby prologue

The hall echoed with the turning of crackling parchment. Everything is old. Everything is dry. The monotone world of the library sat still. Still except for the slow, rhythmic crackle of turning pages. With so many shadows and hidden places the reader cannot be seen. They blend into the darkness, are one with it. How they can read in the dark stillness of the moonlit library is inhuman, yet still the pages turn, slowly, thoughtfully, reverently. A single flame would turn this dark dry place of shadows into a raging inferno. A marble tomb for the knowledge it would burn. The pages stop turning. Yet the crackles of their movement echoes through the library for long moments, reaching into the dark recesses of the hall. The rustle of soft robes can now be heard, moving towards the patch of moonlight illuminating the heart of the library. Even in the moonlight they are all blackness, darker than the night outside. Underneath the reader’s voluminous hood jewel bright eyes of green stare out. Fine white hands reach up and push back the hood. Her face is white, echoing the glowing softness of the gentle pool of moonlight around her. Black silk tresses fall from her brow and obscure most of her finely boned face. The reader pushes her hair back, and a tear slowly winds its way down her porcelain cheek only to settle in the corner of the reader’s crimson lips. A boom rings through the grand library. Before the echoes die down she is gone. The monotone shadows turn into myriad colour as sunrise flows into the library. As laughter and debate ring though it the marble mausoleum relinquishes its knowledge again to the irreverent scholars of day. Time is different in the library, and as the sun goes down it reclaims its deathly monotone again. Filled only with the slow, rhythmic crackle of turning pages the Library is content, its reader has returned, and, with her, hope.

boredom....

so, a while ago me and a friend came up with a not so intelligent idea of competing with each other to make the best/worse Harry Potter related lightbulb jokes. These are my contributions:

How many Ravenclaws does it take to screw in a lightbulb? 3
2 to debate it, 1 to write a muggles studies essay on it, and an exasperated Hufflepuff to give up and do it

How many Gryffindors does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
Who knows, adventure is always more exciting in the dark

How many Deatheaters does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
Don't know, they got distracted after a muggle told them it was a toaster

How many Weasleys does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
8, because they will use any excuse to get away from an angry Molly

How many Hufflepuffs does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
10, cos teamwork is awesome!

How many House Elves does it take to change a lightbulb?
None, purebloods use candles
(courtesy of Kat my housemate)

knock knock
who's there?
you know...
you know who?
aaaaarrrrrgggghhhhhhh

And my final joke...

Who would change a lightbulb the quickest, Flitwick or McGonnagle?

Anyway, I figured sharing is caring, but can also be a form of torture, have fun

Belated Introductions

Hi Peoples,

This is a letter to you, yes you, siting there, in front of a computer screen. Perhaps with a cup of tea at your side, it certainly would be more homey and poetic if you did. This is to introduce my self properly. My name, if you don't know me and/or can't tell by by the title of this blog, is Milly. If you are wondering, which i sincerely hope you aren't, yes, yes i do talk a lot. It is not always about appropriate topics or age appropriate ones either. they can be random, usually instigated by the fact that I can't think of what to write or something that has amused, filled me with consternation, frustrated or angered me that day. Sometimes I will post snippets of creative writing that I have done. I call these prologues though they really aren't prologues unless I get on my bottom for an even more extended amount of time to actually write a story for them to actually become a real grown up prologue. I write long sentences. It is not always advisable to read them out loud, you may die from oxygen deprivation. I will attempt to put in commas when I can't be bothered splitting the big sentence into smaller sentences. I would love feedback on my prologues, whether they be in the form of criticism, or ideas on where the story could go from there. Interacting back with me at the end of ramblings would also be fun. Hopefully we will not devolve into 'Your Mum' jokes. If we do, well, it isn't as if any of our mums will be reading this to care or comment on our childish behavior.

Thanks for reading,

Love Milly

stuck in your head

Sooooo, that typing thing again. By the way I have pruny fingers, damn dishes, but they be clean now. It makes it feel weird to type with pruny fingers, I don’t know how I didn’t realise this at an earlier date but hey, does it really matter? Listening to the music of a band that I haven’t really listened to before makes me think of many things. Usually this occurs because a friend has made you listen to a song that it “awesome” or it could be that you heard a song on the radio, have finally figured out the name of the band who are singing it and feel that you should give it a try. I am doing the latter right now. This is also besides the point, as I am merely stalling time to make a topic that I can discuss is some mediocre way. 

When you think of music you think of sounds, then you generally get a song stuck in your head, then you get stuck because some of the lyrics aren’t appearing in your mind, then you get frustrated. This happens a lot, all over the world. It is like God, or the gods, or whichever religion, deity or inanimate object you believe runs everything, has played a cruel joke on humanity, that not only do you get songs stuck in your head, and then, when you go to run through the song in a vain attempt to maybe sing it out, the lyrics disappear, or you end up in a loop of a section of a song, always ending back at the start of the chorus. The frustration begins. This song must be gone oh evil song demon inhabiting my mind. 

Right now, due to there being music playing, I do not have a song playing in my head. This is very good cos it means that at this moment I am less insane than you. One of my friends has this thing where, if a song is trying to turn you into a creature of the netherworld, they will do the chicken dance. Unfortunately for me whilst I can do the chicken dance this then leads to me singing out loud and doing the actions to Elmo’s version of the chicken dance. This leads to much consternation in those around me. Also, all this seems to achieve is getting the music from the chicken dance stuck in their heads, which I think could be worse depending on the song you have stuck in your head. It’s a coin toss really. Do you keep the demon in your head, playing a song on a broken record player, or replace it with an imp whose only aim in life is to torture you until you dance dammit, dance like you have never danced before. 

This is another dilemma with music. That is the background piece of lyrics, usually in a bridge or the climatic chorus at the end of the song, that you only vaguely hear, and then get annoyed at because you want to know what it says. I did that with a song a few weeks ago. It took me about 10 times of listening to the song with the intent to get the poem playing behind the bridge involving someone else singing, but I got it. I was so inordinately proud of myself for this achievement. I mean seriously, no one around me cared. But I did it anyway. Personal satisfaction I guess. Now I can be all pretentious and when those around me are singing the main bride lyrics, I can sing the background bit. Which, I believe anyway, is quite a nice piece of poetry even if the most of a response I got from it was ‘I wondered what the words were, ok’. 

Other times the achievement of discovering what the background lyrics are is overshadowed by either the rudeness or stupidity of them. Personally I think this accounts for about 90% of background lyrics. On the other hand, those are the kinds of lyrics that I usually catch by accident whilst half asleep listening to the radio, usually on a tram, though the last bit of information is not really needed in this context. These are usually followed by a quick internal WTF, mind you if this happens at home or in the presence of others also listening to this song and you feel friendly enough with them to point it out to them in a not in your head voice, you could vocalise said WTF. 

Anyway, it appears that I have ranted on long enough. If you have a song stuck in your head, please feel free to comment about it, and maybe we can help you figure out those pesky lyrics.

Vampires, cos yeah

I should begin typing something. Oh look, I am. I blame the Young Dracula conversation. Possibly the sugar as well. It all began on a sunny afternoon. Shopping had been done, a delicious meal had been eaten, and food had been brought for a meal the next day. Fanfiction, that thing where people, of their own volition, write extra stories about characters from a piece of fiction just because they feel that something else should happen to that character(s) or that this would be an amusing thing if those two were paired up. That sentence doesn’t make sense, I don’t care. Either way, it is something that I do not normally do except for in my head, I do not write these things, and, on the whole, I do not discuss these things with other people. The difference on this day was the friend it was being spent with. This person is known for both her deep thinking and her complete randomness of thought and comments in ways that led to terrible jokes and idiotic laughter. 

Anywho, the topic that we ended up discussing was the outcome of several characters after the show had finished. This discussion, though we did get sidetracked talking about the mental breakdown that the older sister Ingrid would have, centered mainly around the fact that Vlad (the young Dracula from the name of the show) would totally get together with his best mate Robin’s little sister Chloe. This brings up the issue that I am going to discuss here on in, “How do Vampires have sex with Humans and not kill them in the process?”

Enter Friends’ thoughts.

A: “corks on their teeth”

This, I think, is ridiculous, as in most movies and tv shows vampires fangs are not fully extended until the moment of, well, climax. I do think that we can all agree here that no matter what, the whole act of a vampire sucking on someone else is a matter of climax, whether it be like sexual climax or like the climax of euphoria from taking drugs. This word shall hopefully not need to be debated any further as to my usage of it. Sigh. Back on track. Corks in teeth doesn’t work. I mean, how do they stay on? What about foreplay? Wouldn’t they get in the way of kissing? I can see a girl possibly being able to keep track and cork fanging herself before she bites her boyfriend, but I really don’t see her wanting to ruin the moment for herself. Whereas a male vampire, well, I don’t really see them as thinking the straightest at that moment either in which to stop themselves from going all out orgasm on the girls neck (I like this sentence, in a so very immature way). The only other option I can then foresee is there being a third person. But is that person to be a human that wants to be sucked on, putting themselves in the way of the vampire’s partner’s veins and arteries because that’s how they reach their happy place (or are simply suicidal masochists). Another option is that this third person is human and likes the thrill of danger of getting the corks on the vampire’s teeth on time. Or it’s another vampire, and it works as like a safe system of ‘if we fail I’ll help you get rid of the body in exchange for a free feed’ kind of way. No matter how I think of it, corks on the teeth is a stupid idea. My friend has her own view of why it wouldn’t work: the teeth would cut through the cork. My main point is that it would totally ruin the moment and is completely unsexy.

A (again): “neck guard”

“This process involves the foreplay, the afterplay, and everything that happens in between the plays....hence why it doesn’t have to simply be the human partner’s neck.” 

My main point with this thought is that how completely unsexy it would be to have to do it with someone in a full body cast so you don’t inadvertently suck their blood. But you see, this doesn’t work if the human is a male, cos the whole reason why erections work is that blood runs into the penis to make it be, well, erect. So yeah, it just doesn’t work.

K: “Blood bag”

You see, I also had this idea. It is perfect in many ways, like me I guess. But I guess I will have to look at the cons of shoving a blood bag into your vampire partners face at the exact right moment so they suck on the blood in the blood bag instead of your own (though you could extract your own blood in small amounts and then store it, so as to make the moment more intimate, I guess, it’s weird either way, but your having sex with a freaking vampire, so yeah, I stick my tongue out a you). First of all, how to keep the blood warm? I mean, you would have to time it to see how long your vampire partner gets to the point of biting climax as opposed to the point of sexual climax, work out an average time to reach the biting, then go from there in the hope that they don’t become prematurely bitey. With this in consideration how are you to keep the blood at a nice human bloody temperature so that when the moment comes they don’t burn their tongue or have a mouthful of cold glugginess. You also need to keep it close at hand as well, and hope like hell you have the presence of mind and the reflexes to get the blood bag to your vampire lover’s face in time. Then you have to get your undead love of your (most likely short) life to actually bite through the blood bag, when veins and arteries just under the skin are so much more inviting. Though I guess you could take the stance that it’s the same as people who don’t like condoms, though they are obviously the safer and less baby making option, though this doesn’t work if it is girl human with girl vampire, so that statement doesn’t make complete sense with every situation but hey, you get the analogy. It is also really unsexy to shove something in your partners face, especially if is a warm, faintly squishy plastic bag filled with liquid that you most likely are using too much force to get it into their mouth and as such are punching them in the face with this warm squishy liquid filled plastic bag thing, and also obstructing their view and concentration and overall, you suck (this time metaphorically) because you are yet again, ruining the moment. 

A: “some serious, serious bondage, as in the vampire, not the human”

K says that “rule 1, it is not wrong so long as both people consent and enjoy it, no matter whatever It is.” 

I can see this working, it’s just wrong. Mainly because you have to find a vampire lover that is willing to go into full bondage, despite the fact that I am fairly sure part of the whole enjoyment of sex thing for the vampire is the sucking of blood, but then it goes back to the whole punching them in the face with a warm squishy liquid filled plastic bag thing in order to keep them satisfied. But hey, if you, as a sadistic human being, find a masochistic vampire lover that wants you to dominate them in oh so many ways, then cool, go for, I just really, really, oh dear god I mean this when I say it, DON”T want to hear about it.

In the end my only conclusion is this, why the hell are you having sex with a vampire? Also, Vlad and Chloe totally get it on when they are older, I’m just not sure if they manage to get it on more than once. 

*Male vampires will be able to have an erection due to having the blood of others flowing through their veins (and arteries and capillaries).