Everybody makes mistakes. It's just a fact of life.
Now the fact is, I don't know who made the mistake, but when I posted the final six chapters of "Mistrusting a Memory" it somehow got categorized as a "to be continued" story.
It is not. This is not some diabolical cliffhanger, designed to make you tear your hair out. I've talked to the staff about it, and it will get fixed, quite possibly before you even read this blog entry.
In which case you're scratching your head, saying something like "The poor sod has finally gone off his rocker. Must have been the stess of coming up with all those bloody cliffhangers."
Trust me, my reading public communicates with me VERY quickly when there's a problem, and I got a dozen messages within an hour of submitting the ending that were variations of "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"
I may have pressed the wrong button by accident when I posted the last six chapters. I'm old. My poor palsied hand may have jerked the mouse to the left, when I meant to click the button to the right, that indicates the story is finished. Or the other way around. I can't remember.
It's probably brain damage from falling over all those cliffs.
Anyway, it's finished. OK?
By the way. I have another idea for a story that involves amnesia. Are you tired of those stories yet? Should I write another one? It would take yet a third look at how amnesia could change a person's life, and it wouldn't be the same as either of the first two.
You can vote by sending me an email.
Sorry for the almost heart attacks.
Bob
Recently, with the posting of two books that explore the phenomenon of memory loss and how it might affect the lives of people, I have gotten a lot of mail about the cliffhangers I incorporate into the story. I'll give you a few examples.
"You are a mean, cruel, evil person."
"I can't BELIEVE you left it there! What a sadist!"
"Damn you and your infernal cliffhangers!"
And my personal favorite:
"YOU SUCK!"
OK, some of you have made yourselves perfectly clear about what you think about cliffhangers. So I thought maybe I should make MYself perfectly clear about why I do them.
I DO write cliffhangers into my work intentionally, by the way. It's no accident.
A little history first, mostly for those of you under forty. The oldsters probably lived what I'm going to talk about briefly.
I was raised in the fifties, during a time after a couple of wars, which were after the Great Depression. A lot of people had gone through some really tough times, and done without a lot of things they'd like to have had.
By the fifties life was pretty good, because the economy was booming, innovation was moving forward at a dizzying pace, and personal wealth was beginning to crawl toward the point where more people had it than didn't. At least in the United States.
Back then, you took charity only if you absolutely had to have it. It embarrassed you to be given something that you'd rather work to earn. I knew lots of people who didn't generate much trash, because they found ways to recycle it right there in the house.
There were TV repairmen, and watch repairmen, and Maytag repairmen and shoe repairmen. In fact, you could get almost anything repaired if it broke. You took it to the repairman and left it there.
Then you waited.
In however long he said it would take, it got fixed, and then you went in and got it back. There were still blacksmiths, though they worked mostly in farming areas, and worked on the new horses - tractors and combines.
Back then, you put things on layaway, which meant you paid something down, and the store put the item on a shelf in the back somewhere.
Then you waited.
You came in every so often and paid some more on it, until it was paid for, and then they got it off the shelf and gave it to you. Just about every Christmas and Birthday present I got until 1968 was bought on layaway.
And, speaking of presents, they appeared under the Christmas tree weeks in advance of the big day. You didn't shake them (they might break) and you didn't ask "What did you get me?"
You waited.
Anticipation was a big part of Christmas and birthdays. You dreamed of what might be in those packages. You hoped for what might be revealed when you were finally able to open them. You hoped for things.
We didn't open presents on Christmas Eve. Sometimes that was a religious decision, such as in our house. Sometimes it wasn't, based on some other reason, but by and large the tradition was to wait ... to anticipate ... to revel in the joy of hope. And then celebrate wildly on the day you had been waiting for.
What you saw at the movie house back then was different too. Flash Gordon took you on a wild ride for half an hour and then got into some kind of terrible trouble before the words "TO BE CONTINUED" flashed on the screen and there were moans from the whole audience.
You had to wait.
You had to go back the next week and spend another fifteen cents to see what happened. And then there would be a cliffhanger at the end of THAT episode too.
And by the way, another thing you had to wait for was sex. Of course not all young people did. In fact, based on some of the stories I now hear from readers, there was a LOT less waiting going on back then than our parents believed. But SOME of us (meaning me) had to wait ... to anticipate ... to dream about what a breast ... and other things ... might feel like. A lot of women waited until they got married.
You see, I was raised in a world full of cliffhangers and anticipation. I soaked in it, and the fantasies you read today are the results of a mind that spent hours and hours dreaming about what might be in that box under the tree. I was raised in a world where something cool had to be worked for, and paid for over time before you actually got to hold it, or use it, or play with it.
And I was raised in a world where sometimes, when you opened the box, it was socks, or a shirt, or a new pair of jeans.
You didn't always get what you wanted ... what you'd dreamed of ... what you had ached for.
If you wanted it badly enough, you went out and mowed enough lawns, or raked enough leaves, or shoveled enough snow to earn the money to go buy it yourself.
Now ... let's look at the world of today.
Today's world is one in which there is almost no anticipation to soak in at all. The youth of today see something, ask for it, and, quite often, it is bought for them. They carry it on their lap in the car ride home. They don't have to work for it.
Today's world is one in which "self actualization" and "self esteem" are of paramount importance in the raising of a child. What that seems to mean is that you meet their needs immediately, so they can feel "actualized." We are teaching them that if they want something, they ask for it, and it appears, because they "deserve it."
That's translated into young people applying for a job and expecting to be highly paid immediately, and the boss within a month. After all, haven't they been told constantly how talented and special they are, for the last quarter of a century?
When I was growing up, if you didn't pass your tests, you were held back a grade, to take that grade over again until you DID pass your tests.
Imagine if somebody suggested doing that now? No child left behind was invented long ago, by parents who didn't want to have to deal with the stigma of having a child who couldn't, or wouldn't learn in school. That only applied to ten or fifteen percent of kids at the most ... back then. What is it now?
Now we have high school graduates who can't read a job application, because they never learned how to read, because they were never left behind.
Young people today live in a world of instant gratification. They don't have to wait for anything.
Except my next chapter.
As you contemplate what a mean, horrible, evil, sucky man I am, to tease you like that, and force you to use your brain to think about what might happen in the story, just take a deep breath.
You can send me all the nasty notes you want. I'm aware that most of you are saying these things in perfectly good humor, and that you don't actually MEAN that I suck. But if somebody comes up to you and says "Man! Who beat the crap out of you with an ugly stick today?" and then says "Just kidding!" you still can't help but think that there was something that precipitated that comment. On some level, they really DO think you're ugly.
If it sounds like I'm complaining, you might get the wrong idea. I'm not complaining that people want to see more of the story. I'm complaining because a lot of them don't get the POINT of the cliffhanger.
It's not to tease you.
OK, it's to tease you. But more importantly it's to make you think. Each of those cliff hangers is an attempt to get your imagination to run crazy, anticipating what might be in the box under the tree, and yes, even hoping that it might be a particular thing.
Anticipation is the stress of being alive, and loving it, because all things are possible.
Of course, when you open the box, it may be socks. But there is always another box. You can create boxes of anticipation in your own life if you just stop flashing your credit card every single time you see something you want. Save for it. Put the money in a jar, until you have enough to pay for it. Some stores are even going back to the layaway program, thanks to the economic meltdown caused by people who had to have the instant gratification of having a house they couldn't afford. Now they can't get credit any more, so layaway has been dragged out of the closet, dusted off, and used as a marketing tool.
You don't have to have everything RIGHT NOW! I didn't, and I survived for over five decades. I have a credit score of over 800. I can get all the credit in the world, even in this economy. But the REASON I have that credit score is because I know how to wait until I can afford whatever it is that I think I want.
I only have two more things to say on the matter.
First, I purely love you guys and gals who write to me and tell me what you think is going to happen, or what you hope is going to happen. You're using your brain and, as a extra benefit, you give me ideas for future stories. Thank you for playing the game.
Lastly, if you think this is all a bunch of horse shit, and that I'm really just a mean, evil, low down, teasing, torturing SOB ...
Well, you have two choices.
You can wait until the story is completely posted to read it. I know of at least 25 or 30 people who do that.
Or you can just deal with it.
I just can't WAIT to get the feedback on this blog entry! Write NOW! Pen me something IMMEDIATELY!
Bob
On the you-asked-for-news front, I started posting a new story Monday, 27 Oct 08. It is the second of several stories in which I'm examining amnesia and how it might affect a person's life. The first was "For Want Of A Memory" and if you liked that one, I think you'll like this one too. The new story is called "Mistrusting A Memory".
The posting schedule for this story is roughly two chapters on each Monday, Wednesday and Friday until it's done. I say roughly because you all know how I love the cliffhanger, so I'll be finding those to torment you with. That may mean only one chapter on a given day, or maybe three. Who knows?
It's about thirty-three chapters long and is half edited right now, which means Peaches and I will finish editing it while I post the first half. For those of you who like to wait until it's completely posted so you can gorge and stay up late and be bleary-eyed at work the next day, you have to wait about five weeks for the final chapter or epilogue or whatever it ends with.
So that's all the news that's fit to print at the present, and thanks for your interest.
Thanks for reading too.
Bob
With the posting of my second treatise on masturbation, this one pertaining to the fairer sex, I received a most disturbing missive from a worried man named Floyd. He said "My wife has a pierced [clitoral] hood and has been Flopping Her Fob and Twisting Her Un-Wedding Ring ..
Should I be Worried?
Floyd"
My initial advice to him was that his concern was baseless but then it occurred to me that there could be significant danger involved with the Flopping of Her Fob.
Here is my reasoning:
Clitoral hood rings come in a variety of sizes, as any pervert ... um ... observer, I mean, can see if he surfs the web at all. Now, sizing may be an real issue here, and that is my concern.
A cock ring is designed to encircle the penis so that, when it swells, the outflow of blood will be curtailed, and the organ will remain erect. Imagine, if you will, if a clit ring were to encircle the clitty itself, which might then swell up and become stuck in the ring.
The penis, once it ejaculates, will shrink, enabling the ring to be removed. Alas! The clit doesn't ejaculate. In fact, during orgasm, it gets even bigger!
OWWW!!!
So this public service announcement is to let you ladies know that there is the potential for disaster in having a clit ring that is too small, or sized to match your clit. BEWARE! Don't let this catastrophe strike you.
And don't let the fact that there has never been a substantiated case of SCS (Stuck Clitty Syndrome), reported in any reputable medical journal, give you false comfort. It could happen to you!
Here's my advice. When it comes to the size of the ring you employ to hold your hood on, think about it like the maintenance man's maxim about oil.
If some's good ... more's better ... and too much is just right.
So opt for the big golden hoop, ladies. Get the old fashioned gold ring, like they used to have on merry go rounds. Yes, it might tend to make the front of your pants look a little odd, but that's immeasurably better than having to show up at the ER needing a clit extraction done. From what I know, the only solution would be to cut the ring off, and just think about how hot that baby will get if they have to take a dremel to it!
OWWWW!!!
Better yet, to leave nothing to chance, I'll volunteer my considerable services as an expert consultant.
Just send me a picture of your hood and clit. It matters not whether it's already pierced or not. I have a medically documented calibrated eye. If you already have a ring, I can evaluate whether it's of a dangerous size. If not, I can advise you of what size would best serve your needs.
And please, get your clit erect before you take the picture. Fractions of milimeters can be critical.
There! I feel so much better, having brought this potentially awful situation to your attention.
I remain your faithful servant,
Bob
Sometimes I get the most fascinating mail.
C.L.Evers wrote to me the other day, reflecting on a couple of my older blog entries in which I explored the multitude of names we who speak English have come up with for our girly/boy parts and the act of masturbation. I did a bunch of research on it for what was intended to be a humor piece called "A Treatise on Masturbation." If you haven't read it, (because the title sounded so stuffy, perhaps) you should. It will make what follows more compelling.
While it was couched in humor, there was a point to that treatise as well. "Masturbate," as it turns out, just wasn't colorful enough to describe the activity. So people have colored it up a bit, so to speak. In fact, if all the different terms for the word "masturbate" were buds on a plant, it would take over the whole front yard.
Anyway, Mr. Evers, a distinguished and valuable gentleman, suggested that I should also research the terms and etymology of the terms we use for "ejaculate."
He quoted some of my own, from what he fondly called "my early pud pullers."
Baby juice
Man milk
Spooge
Spunk
Thick man-cream
Uncle Bob's patented baby-makers
Then he mentioned some more that are more commonly used in the genre of erotic writing.
Cream
Cum
Goop
Seed
Semen
Spend
Jism, or Jizz is a term he says "may have its roots in Africa. Slaves brought it to America and it came into use in whorehouses in the South, once they were freed. That word also gave us Jass, or Jazz, from the kind of music played in whorehouses, music whose rhythms were meant to match the rhythms of intercourse, and to enhance the sexual excitement."
I don't know if he's right on that or not. I thought "Jazz" evolved much later than that, but who wants to quibble with such a fascinating theory?
Sperm (which of course isn't totally accurate since sperm's a component of semen but isn't more than a fraction of a man's output)
Of course C.L. is an artist too, so he came up with some of his own. They are inventive, and I like them.
Baby-tapioca
Cream of Baby Soup
People-pudding
Sex-sauce
I particularly like Cream of Baby Soup and People pudding, myself.
The point of all this is that C.L. believes (and I agree with him) that we need as many colorful, evocative terms as there can be for describing this component of the sex act, so we can avoid the repetition that deprives words of their impact. After all, erotic writing is supposed to impact the reader on a deep and personal level.
He hoped I might be willing to seek out what is likely to be a plenitude of un-heralded words and phrases to be discovered. It might even lighten the load imposed on the more common expressions, assuming any other authors ever see this blog entry. (grin)
Anyway, seeing as how the most inventive people I know are my readers, I thought I'd just throw open the door and yell "C'mon in, folks!" I'll just make a list, starting with what C.L. has so graciously supplied - the SEED of this blog entry, if you will (sorry ... couldn't resist) - and I'll add to it whatever you send me.
The only thing I ask is that you specify whether what you send is something you actually saw or heard somewhere, or your own invention. Your own inventions are fine, by the way. I don't have a problem with that at all. Every word in the language was invented at one time or another and the Chinese have us beat all to hell, both in the alphabet and in their vocabulary. If we're going to fuss and fume over something, let it be about who has the most colorful and descriptive vocabulary. I mean that battle might actually improve the world, you know?
Now I'm off to see what the net has to offer. I look forward to your contributions.
=================================
The internet search:
Nick Gaudio, a “staff writer” I found on the internet, came up with the following words for “ejaculate” in his “Male Finishing School” entry, which can be found at http://www.pointsincase.com/columns/nick/3-29-06.htm
It's pretty funny, by the way.
Skeet - which he says probably developed from the shooting sport, and has to do with the shotgun approach of covering a woman's face.
Bill Clinton's Calling Card - self explanatory. This one is customizable. I mean you could have Jesse Jackson's Calling Card, or Hugh Hefner's Calling Card, for example, tailoring it to the conversation or story in which it's being used.
Cocknog - which he says tastes good with white rum and cinnamon, a little tidbit that might be interesting to you women out there.
Baby Batter - self explanatory (and one I overused in my earlier writings. Sorry)
Jizzum - with a different explanation than what C.L. sent me. Something to do with a kazoo lying on an ejaculating penis.
The Creamy Filling
Nut Nectar
Penis Paste
Cum - which should have been mentioned much earlier. His explanation of it is different than mine. I think it comes from the educational title of "Summa Cum Loudly" as indicated by the yells sometimes associated with its release. Women invented this term, to share with each other so that they would all know which men were really good in bed, but also too loud during sex, and might draw the unwanted attention of the inebriated boyfriend/husband in the next room during parties. An example of is use might be "Harriet, be careful with that one. He's summa cum loudly."
Liquid Sin
Boner Brew
Other internet sources revealed:
Bust a nut - how did we miss that one?
Show your O face - the "O" stands for orgasm, in case you were wondering. That had to have been invented by a Yuppy.
There was one place where the precursor of ejaculate, commonly called pre-cum was discussed. The slang for that was listed as:
Dog Water (?)
Speed drop - I get that one
Widower's tears - now that's just sad. Kind of makes you want to go find a widower and cheer him up. If you're a woman, I mean. I don't swing that way myself. Maybe the National Organization of Women could sponsor a new holiday - "Cheer Up a Widower Day."
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You learn something every day. Lots of people have heard of the term "menarche" which means the first occurrence of menstruation in a woman. Did you know there's a term for the guys too? It's called Spermarche, from the Greek word "Sperma" or seed, and it means the first time a male ejaculates sperm in his semen. Menarche makes a girl a woman, and Spermarche makes a boy a man. How about that?!
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In the international category, we have the British (also credited to the Canadians) "Shoot your duff" which is not explained. Then there's Baby Gravy and Baby Bullion, as well as Baby Burp. That one was followed with "Pregger Puke" and I quit reading. Sorry.
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3 Oct 08: C.L. Evers wrote back with a lovely substitute for "pre-cum" which he characterizes as vulgar. He prefers "a pearly drop of appreciation."
Now that's classy.
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16 Oct 08
Nigel, AKA "zoltantheduck" sent me what he called "A couple more for your lexicon of ejactology."
I kind of like that word - Ejactology. I may shamelessly steal it for a story some day. Anyway, since nobody in America is named Nigel, we appear to have become global in our search for words to put into the lexicon of ejactology. I'm guessing his offerings are from the United Kindom, whose denizens are known for their colorful descriptive terms for things sexual, such as snog, shag, knickers and the ever pouplar arse. Come to think of it, people in New Jersey say arse too, so maybe that one isn't that odd. I digress.
Choad - used by a staff writer in one of our local weekly titty mags.
They have local weekly titty mags?! And we wanted independence from them?!
Spoof - common slang term, note the oo is sounded the same as the oo in book, not as sounded in boo.
This is another example of why the English language drives ESL teachers ... and their students ... crazy.
Since this is becoming a dictionary of sorts, I'll start using your terms in a sentence.
"Spoof me, Baby! Get a pic of your choad on my titties for next week's edition."
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6 Nov 08
Merle, one of my married readers, reported that he and his wife use the following terms: Pecker snot and nut butter.
He pointed out that nut nectar had already been used, and had better alliteration (one MUST try to retain alliteration when whispering sweet nothings to one's lover) but that "butter" is more descriptive.
I think he was right about that, because the first thing that popped into my mind was that commercial where there's a pair of female hands, and male hands, spreading butter on things. It's very intimate and the couple in the commercial are obviously very much in love as they talk about that. Then I heard the words in my head that every man dreams of hearing someday as he's getting the mother of all blow jobs:
"I can't BELIEVE it's not butter!"
As for pecker snot (which could also be called cock snot, which ... um ... flows better off the tongue, so to speak,) all I can say is that you've never felt anything like a woman sneezing while she has your pecker in her mouth. That 130 mph gust of breath will get you there, my friends. Trust me. You might need a couple of Kleenexes to deal with the results, though.
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Bob