Post deleted...

... as there was a keyword chance that the big fat rude cunt it was about would find it. I wouldn't care, except that I'd have to start a new blog, and can't be bothered!

All previous comments about said big fat rude cunt stand - but they stand only in my head now. Seething. Spilling out in sudden bursts and shocking polite company. Etc., etc., etc.

How DOES somebody hold those views?

These views are the ones I'm talking about.

I am by no means terribly well-travelled, but I am in agreement that you have to really, really want to be an arsehole to keep up that rubbish when you're living overseas.

Here's another gem:

Me: So how's things in [name of place where she lived] going?
Her: Well, you know, I thought people would stare at me a lot more. Because I mean, I am like multi-ethnic, I am like the only multi-ethnic people these hicks have ever seen, so yeah, I dunno, I thought I'd get stared at more.

Here's to you, [nameless stupid bitch]!!

Now I am going to admit that I played this game while thinking of her once. It was great. I almost wet myself. How can you not love Japanese people when they create games about

girls slapping each other to death??

The infatuation lengthens and widens

My obsession with the Governer was fed on the weekend and is growing to new, dangerous levels.

I have gleaned some posters of the Governer himself!! Oh god. He looks surprised and elated in the photo, and though they don't do his charm the slightest bit of justice, I took them all home. They're in my car right now, and have already set about embarrassing me.

I was at a nearby river, having gone for a swim after work. I chucked my crap in the car (front seat cos the back was crammed full of glorious Governer posters) and wound the windows down, saying things like "Phew! Hot!" and "Oh MAN iss pretty hot eh" and "wow okay this is hot enough thank you" and checked the rearview mirror before reversing.

And what did I see but a huge hunting spider splayed out across the glass, almost as big as my hand!

I got out, and went around the back and considered the spider.

There was only one thing to do. I poked it with a twig.

I know that sounds like the sensible thing to do but I just wanted to get it off my car before I drove out of there (because I imagine it hurts getting tumbled onto the road from a moving vehicle).

Anyway, when I poked it, it scuttled around the side of my car and straight in the open driver's window. I squeaked and dropped my twig and paddled my little feet up and down in dismay. Now, I like spiders, but I don't really want massive biting ones (I've been nipped by that species before, not poisonous to people but not pleasant to people either) at large in my car.

There were three or four reasonably cute guys standing around their car watching me with interest - they'd just arrived and were the only other people there. One of them approached me. "What's up?" he said. I told him a big spider had gotten in my car, and we both set about looking for it. He looked in the front driver's side and I looked in the passenger side, then he flipped the seat forwards... to display all 19 Governor posters in their orange glory. "The fuck," he said, looking up at me with puzzlement.

"Don't worry about the Governer, just worry about the spider, eh," I advised him.

We never did catch it and as far as I know it's still there.

As he walked away, I heard him telling his friends, "That girl has a huge spider AND hundreds of posters of that Governor from down south in her car. Kind of creepy."

Eventually I plan to make an artwork of some kind out of them. I think that means that I am a crazy stalker.

I am okay with that.

HOW TO DO SEX

I found this terrific how-to website. Actually, it's just called "Sex" - no beating around the bush. So to spe-- ah, you all get it.

We start with a detailed photo of the relevant parts. I rather like the description - instead of uncircumcised and circumcised, it describes the first one as "a normal penis" and the second one is euphemistically (and somewhat sympathetically) referred to as "a peeled skin penis." Poor sad callused thing.

They tried to do right by the clitoris, but for some reason edged the pointer away until it was meekly off to the side. Why oh why. WE know where it is; why don't you?? It's a nasty, bald, wrinkled, pulled-at, ribbed picture in the same dead-flesh tone, so I haven't put it up here, but if you wanna look, go ahead.

Next is how to kiss.

Yes, that is what this picture is portraying. I reckon the dark tongue is the guy and the white one is the girl. But who can tell?

My only clue is that most guys still smoke here, and most girls don't. Note that it's very sexy to lick between somebody's top lip and gum above the teeth. Or tooth.

So, anyway, we've all been begging for lessons on how to sniff, look closely at, listen to, and dab our cheek on a nipple.

Beg no more!

You can also learn how to spank a nipple, how to maul a nipple, and how to claw at a breast from below when you're drowning or are a zombie in a lake.

All RATHER educational.

Next is sex. Sex!! Fuck yeah! ------------------->

Oh man I don't quite know what's going on here. Is that a uterus on the end of that vagina? Is that even a vagina? What's that tube thing in it? What are those people doing? Why are they doing it so near each other?

Hang on, some more information's just come through.

Oh, NOW I see how to eat pussy. It has all become remarkably... wait, oh my gosh! My undercarriage looks NOTHING like that.

Wah, what the fuck?


Anyway, art has no barriers but the website is all in Japanese. It has some good STD info on it, actually, so I won't slag it too much - STD information is already hard enough to come by in Japan without me ridiculing cute attempts at education.

Though the lillies in my local florist had better watch out eh!!

I'm a big touch slut

There is a secret to getting my knickers down. Touch me! Not there, but a little bit lower, a bit higher, a little bit to the left... THERE!! Now keep roaming. And whatever you do, don't stop, ever!!

I love being touched. Years ago, I used to whore my body out, to be used for sex in exchange for touch, with one of my boyfriends - if I didn't feel like having it off with him, I'd strip down and he'd massage, pummel, and softly softly softly scrape my legs, arms, feet, head or back, and after 30 or 40 mins, if I still didn't feel like having sex I'd do it anyway out of gratitude.

(Don't go thinking I don't like sex - I just didn't much like sex with HIM.)

But more than just plain massage, it's touch that get me shivering and softening and dissolving into a pile of gibbering girl.

A brush of fingers up and down the skin of my inner forearm. A squeeze of my calf muscle, by a hand that moves downwards and drifts off with a firm press at the ankle and heel. Fingertips up from the nape of my neck into my hair. Pressing the skin at my temples and around my eyebrows. Up and down the spine.

And the ultimate: grazing the skin of my back from hip to shoulder to ear. My most recent ex used to lie propped up on one elbow doing this, with me trembling and quaking all over the futon while he watched, fascinated by my reaction. I could barely speak after 10 minutes of it, and if I was wearing knickers during this, they didn't stay on for much longer.

I drive for two hours every 6 weeks to go to a particular hairdresser because of the way he touches me. I could get the same cut at any other place, for the same price, but this guy melts me in the chair with his hands, and what's more, he enjoys doing it.

"Dude, I think he was getting off on that massage with you," said a friend, who'd been skimming through hairstyle magazines while waiting for me, once; "I'm sure he had a boner."

"So what," I said, stumbling along happily in a daze, "he was doing me so NICE."

'S true, too. Touch me like that, and who knows what could happen.

All names changed to protect the saucy

*also if you're my sibling or cousin or friend you might not want to read this. I WILL be home one day and you WILL have to look me in the eyes...

So. Many times I've been asked to report on Japanese guys I've gone out with, and any peculiarities they may have.

There's not much to report. A bit of knickers-sniffing, which I think MOST guys with a pulse and a sexy girlfriend would indulge in if they had the chance, a bit of enjoying some pretend scenarios - nothing out of the ordinary - and a bit of "holy crap, you actually MOVE during sex, what the fuck, this is awesome!"

However, they ALL had certain preferences with regards to favourites. Let me see if I can list some for science's sake.

Yasuhiro liked me on my front, him growling around on top and roughing me up like a caveman. Grrr.

Kazuhiro liked me crouching tall on top, where his long arms could reach up and touch my breasts and shoulders. He had a great body and was a sweet guy but, sigh, he had not a bad boner in his body. Can anybody spell T-A-M-E?

Takeshi was great fun; he'd always tell me in a panicky crescendo when he was about to come (or, "go" in Japanese): "Is it OK if I come? It's OK? Really? YESSS!!! I'm gonna come. I'm gonna come. I'm gonna come... I'm going to! Here I come! I'm coming! I'm coming! I'm coming!!! I'm --- ohhh god... oh GOD, so good, OH that was good. I went. I went. Hey Manda, I went! Why are you laughing." He liked it most when he was on top, and I was sort of perpendicular or at right angles to him, on my side. He liked how deep he could go in, and how the angle felt really different, and he liked seeing my breasts bouncing from a different angle. He could never last long like this so it was always a "Haven't you done well, now you get to fuck me how you like it, baby" prize.

Yutaka liked it ALL. I usually don't bother letting guys who aren't potentially long-term boyfriends go down on me cos once you've had girls, you realise guys are crap and it's best just to get on with the sexing, but he was GOOD. Slow, soft, lazy, lapping gently, using those hands of his, and smirking at me sweetly from between my thighs whenever I gasped down at him in shock. I could just lie back, put my arms above my head, and let him do his thing. And that was his thing, I think. He was bloody good at it and always had a raging erection while he worked. He was slightly shorter than me, so fucking from behind like a pair of frenzied mating dogs never happened, but hey, you can't have it all.

His being shorter was cool. He wasn't remotely self-conscious about it - he loved that I was taller and he had so much girl on his hands. Whenever I went to his place, I'd sit at one of the cut-log stools next to the kitchen, and instead of sitting on one the same size, he'd drag a shorter chair over and sit below me, grinning up like he'd won the You Get To Fuck a Giant Girl prize (I'm actually only 163cm). He also loved it when I'd lie full-length on top of him, when we were lying around talking, covering his body with mine. I LOVE it when guys do that to me, too, but in a different way, I think.

And Keisuke's number one thing was to tease me into giving it up to him; it thrilled us both to pretend I was reluctant, and he would sweet-talk me and pressure me into allowing him to "just let it sit there for a moment, I won't put it in" and then, of course, hold me down a little, and slide it in bit by bit while shushing my protestations. Yay! That was hot. Often he was so cute I could hardly bear it afterwards. "I had SEX with you!" he'd crow, and kiss me happily.

No, Keisuke. I had sex with YOU, you sexy scoundrel.

Any questions? No? That's that then.

...and the way, way too old!

I wonder if the man is as much of a mouthful as his name is:

The Governer.

He's the new governer of a rural southern prefecture here in Japan Prefecture, and what a DUDE!! I met him once, and he had me tittering and blushing like a skirted schoolgirl every time he glanced in my direction. He's got that thing where he gazes at you, then slowly he smiles like he's just realised how extraordinarily fascinating you are! Talk about charming.

Plus he auctioned off all the governer vehicles and drives around in a little hybrid now. His face is plastered on everything from delicious summer lime treats to pyjama pants but he's lost no dignity through it. He used to be a comedian and has the catchiest grin.

I'd do him. Oh yes I would. I'd also fuck my boss if I could at all get away with it.

I found myself trying to explain myself to a friend and cringed when I heard the words flapping out of my mouth:

"No, seriously, he's 64 but he has all his own teeth and hair and SUCH a TWINKLE in his eyes... you can TELL he's a rascal in the sack."

All is lost: I'd rather fuck a granddad than any of the hundreds of strapping young men in this town. My god.

I am rather consoled, though, by the fact that he has a fan club. All - yes, all - my female friends here in the city hall squeak with envy when I describe how he put his hand on my shoulder that morning, or helped me with kanji the previous afternoon.

I've never liked Sean Connery (so creepy and slurring), but I'm sliding all over my seat thinking of this lean, brown, crinkled-skinned guy with his sparkly casanova eyes.

The way too young...

Junior high school students in this town aren't exactly hot, but they're very cute (a couple of years more schooling and they're sex in starched shirts).

Today a class of my second-years had a short interview test. They chose from a menu and I took their order and charged them outrageous prices.

One boy sat down in front of me with his eyes roaming my face and shoulders. Bracketed speech in [Japanese].

"Good morning, what would you like?" I asked.

"One small fries and a hot chocolate," he said, grinning.

"OK, will that be all?"

"One Amanda sensei please."

[Dude, you can't afford me.]
[I'd be a good boyfriend!]

"That'll be fifteen thousand dollars, please."

[What the hell! That's way too high!]

[The cheek of you! I told you I was pricey. Now get outta here. 9 out of 10.]

"I love you, sensei!"

"Yeah, yeah, off you go."

"I can't live without you!"

"Who teaches you this stuff?"

"You're my one, my only, without you I'm lonely!"

"..."

"Love me tender! Love me true! Never let you go!"

"...No thank you."

The class erupted into hysterical laughter and dude sat down at his desk, slightly flushed.

I saw him in the hallway ten minutes later, between classes, and he mumbled hello and fingered the windowsill.

I caught his eye, and winked saucily.

He masturbated about it forever and ever and ever, the end.

I would love to punch you right in the fucking face!

(Not you.)

Here are some choice quotes, verbatim, from one of the most abhorrent people I've met:

"I hear you date Japanese guys. What is WITH that. I mean, okay, I'm going to be here for a year. I do NOT want to be single for, like, a year. So, like, I might have to stoop to dating Japanese guys. Advice please."

"It was SO funny! There were all these, like, Japanese guys in this Tokyo reggae bar, with, like, dreadlocks."
- What's funny about that?
"OK so, like, obviously there are some things that you will NEVER understand. They're, like, Japanese guys? With dreds? OK you don't get it. It's like, not your culture, so just shut up, OK? Jesus."

"I don't care what you say; all white people are racist and that includes you."
Mike: "...I'm Chinese."
"I don't give a fuck - you hang out with white people so what does that make you. You are a fucking racist and you don't even know it."

"Listen, you skinny little white bitch, I don't care WHAT you think about Japanese bats, or any bats: there are no countries in the WORLD without rabies, OK? And maybe you should do some research before you go talking about things that you have no idea [sic]".

Nice one. Now get the fuck away from me.

(and here's one for the ladies: somebody ACTUALLY getting punched right in the fucking face. Warning: makes your face hurt when you watch it!)

http://jp.youtube.com/watch?v=1WJoU84IhW4

Surgical assault

Circumcision. YUCKY! Let's be frank: I like a foreskin. I like the way it rolls around, and I like the sensitivity that uncircumcised guys have. I'm so glad the dudes here have natural penises. Men whose foreskins have been sliced off are so often reduced to jackhammer thrusting and grasping their cock like they're hanging from a building by the thing. I'm sorry, circumcised dudes, but foreskins just FEEL nicer, and I get so angry that people chop off important infant skin so carelessly. Why bother? So you can give your son a callused cock? So you can bestow on him erectile problems when he's older? So he will need twice as much lube during sex than your average intact guy, because the friction gets unbearable for both participants?

Just STOP it, seriously.

Root vegetables one could potentially root

Yes, it's traumatising because it resembles a boy's thingy, but you must all realise that this is what happens to kumara (aka sweet potato) when you leave it to fester in a drawer or cupboard.

Nicer than some of the real ones I've seen, if I'm honest.

Amimono!

Crocheting is hotter, but knitting's a start.

I can only do scarves so far, because they're straight and easy - unlike me (bent, and not so easy). Har de har har. Anyway, though it's raging summer here (or will be in a week or two after this blimmin rain stops) it's winter back home and certain people have chilly, sad little necks that need warming. Only ONE lucky frigid-necked reader will receive this delightful scarf in a special shade of shop-bought-wool-blue, complete with two holes and wonky edges. Don't all cry yourselves to sleep at the same time...

Boy meets girl, boy molests girl, girl muses

It's always the quiet ones! Well, not always, but often, and I am angry, so I FEEL like being dramatic. IT'S ALWAYS THE QUIET ONES!! Those bastards.

Mop (we'll call him that cos his real name is just as yawn and he has overly thick hair) came over on Friday night as the typhoon was starting. I said he could, of course, though I've only met him twice - he seemed alright both times, and we'd been chatting innocuously on gmail a little bit. I had no other plans due to the weather.

His company was boring but inoffensive, and we stayed in, since angry winds and rain outside forbade otherwise. I didn't really want him to stick around but he had no way of getting home, so stayed on. The next afternoon, we were watching a DVD (some crap anime thing chosen solely for the English subtitles) and he put his hairy skinny arm around my shoulders. I looked at the horrid arm, then looked at him, and said coldly, "Are you hitting on me?"
"No, I mean, well, not really but, I mean, do you want me to?"
"Um, thanks, but no."
"OK. Sorry."
I shrugged my shoulder at his arm and put it in his lap. He looked vaguely embarrassed but just sipped his beer. I fell asleep a little bit later. Stormy weather makes me deliciously sleepy.

I'm a stomach sleeper. My mum used to put me to sleep on my tummy because it was the only way I'd settle when it was upset or there was something in her breastmilk that didn't agree with me. I've kept the habit - I find it soothing and pleasant to sleep belly-down. Except this time. I woke up to wet lips flapping on the back of my neck. A kind of kiss!

I lurched away from the creeping flapping lips and shook my head sleepily. "Sorry," I heard in the distance, and drifted to sleep again.
Moments later, I awoke to slightly frenzied rubbing of my vulva through my cotton underwear. The dude had pulled my skirt up and was fiddling with me. What the fuck?!

I was very suddenly awake, and said, "Dude, no thanks, eh." I rolled over and got up and he sipped his beer and looked embarrassed again. I didn't want to embarrass him further so I just set about making some late lunch while I considered my options. A typhoon was raging outside and there were no buses, taxis or trains (he lives a couple of hours away). Shortly afterwards, though, he made up my mind for me.
He was talking in an excited monotone about how he hates the word "gorge" and replaces it with "canyon" in all the tourist information he translates. I pointed out that they were two completely different things, and he really took it personally. We argued, not much, and not rudely, but he suddenly got angry and said loudly, "Actually, I think some people should just shut the fuck up! And yes I do mean you!"

I did as I was told and shut the fuck up. For about 40 seconds, until he said, "So do you want to go for a walk or something?"
"No," I said, "I want you to leave. I'll walk you to a hotel down the road."
"You're kicking me out in a typhoon?" he asked incredulously.
"Yep," I said, and then bloody well did.

The cheek of the man. I mean, what kind of creepy teen-humper touches up a girl in her sleep after she's already rejected his advances? This is not the first time this has happened, either. I know I attract freaks, but they usually don't get close enough to finger my knickers.

Is it me? Do I have a particularly come-hither snore? Is my slack jaw and trail of dribble on the pillow so inviting that guys with social problems must have me on the spot??

Gah

Manda Overboard begins

Hullo there! Smee.