sex, lies, and .jpgs


August 25th, 2008 at 10:32 am

When Erotica Attacks

Reading this post from Roxy defragged a portion of my recent memory that I’d have been best served to let fade into the recesses of wannabe alcoholism.

Now, if you’ve spent any time reading Junkbuzzed, you probably know by now that I Loathe Erotica. Seriously. I can’t stand it. To me, erotica is just a bad poetry slam with a hard-on/throbby clit. (So please don’t send me any.)

Anyhoo. So I’d inspired a freshly steaming new pile of erotica from my new ‘fan’. I’m a morbidly curious sort, so I started reading. First of all, nearly every word was misspelled. Actually, ‘misspelling’ is too forgiving a term for the first few pages – I think ‘language-mangling’ is far more apropos. It was as if she had written it in Farsi, and then spent the better part of a month Babelfishing it into Italian, Swahili, Russian, French, French-Canadian, Spanish, Greek, Sanskrit, Klingon, Leetspeak – and then back into something that resembled English, if English had suddenly been beaten within an inch of its life in some dank back alley.

At page four however I got to the snarling heart of her narrative, as the master in the story tied her, the disobedient submissive, down onto a wooden horse out in some dingy barn. And then coerced a veritable Noah’s ark of animals to penetrate her every orifice. Mules, marmosets, macaws, mongooses, sheep, sharks, skylarks, snow leopards, sugar gliders, stag beetles, ibises, iguanas, Indian muntjacs, whales, whippets, worms, weasels, woodchucks, woodpeckers, water buffalo, water moccasins, wolverines, warthogs, whooping cranes, elephants, elk, emus, ewoks, egrets, emperor penguins, ostriches, oxen, opossums, ocelots, hens, herons, hyenas, hedgehogs, hoggets, hamsters, pigeons, pigs, parakeets, porcupines, platypuses, panthers, pelicans, and a pack of peckish Pomeranians. If it ever walked/crawled/slithered/flew/swam the earth (or alternate planet), it was in some way inserted into one of this girl’s holes.

By the time the water-bird genus had been introduced, I had had quite enough. But like any sex-addled teenager who doesn’t know enough to get the fuck outta the woods when Jason’s around, I had to scroll down to the end of the story (it took approximately 37 flicks of the scroll-bar, more than the number of licks needed to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop). At the end of the story (I think it ended with the submissive marrying an emu or something), she tacked on an extra-special surprise for me, yet another FGWP: a too-zoomed-in shot of her pussy with a enough needles stuck in it to sew a pair of jeans for every man, woman and child in Asia. And when I say ‘zoomed-in’, I’m talking “Who’s Zooming Who” kind of zoomed-in. It was so zoomed in that you could probably get a DNA sample just by staring at it. Her pussy was the Pinhead of the horror show that my gmail box had become.

Yet somehow I had the sinking feeling that I was the biggest pinhead of all. Because I didn’t act fast enough to stop it. You see, it took me nearly two months of Junkbuzzing to finally throw up my No Erotica Allowed sign. YKMBOKBYEIS: Your Kink Might Be OK, But Your Erotica Is Not. Yes, it might be somewhat benign – but only in the sort of way that a non-cancerous tumor the size of a blood orange hanging off the side of your face is – it’s not going to kill you, but you know you’ll be a whole lot healthier and happier once it’s gone.

Or, to paraphrase the great Jeanette Winterson, Blood Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit.

PS: And for the record. If you, dear reader (citation needed), send any erotica to Junkbuzzed, we will post it onsite, with commentary/criticism/analysis from the world’s leading Analrapists (see Fünke, Tobias). Just saying.

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  • 1

    So, of course, now I’m imagining tying you down, snarling and stretched like cloth on the tenter, across a convenient table and reading the aforementioned story to you, slowly, with extra bonus theatrical emphasis a la William Shatner just for fun.

    And then I’d do it again, but dressed as Barney, while stepping erotically on assorted citrus fruits.

    Come on, we all know you love it like that…;)

    Roxy on August 25th, 2008
  • 2

    This is one of the hundred-billion reasons I am glad that my DNA points me toward sadism rather than masochism.

    However, you did say ‘tenter’…

    The Snarling Misanthrope on August 25th, 2008


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