Monday, 12 March 2018


When I was a toddler aged two or thereabouts, my father, who is an actor, was peforming in a play outside of London. He invited my mother to come for the final night, and (loath to leave me with unscrupulous grandparents who would doubtless over-feed me) she took me along with her. She saw the play, and then accompanied my father to the cast party to celebrate a successful run. Again, I accompanied her.

One of Dad's co-stars was a little-known actor who had a small daughter almost exactly the same age as me. They set us up in the same room with various toys scattered around the place. My memory's usually quite good - my first memory comes from the age of one and a half - but those I have of this occasion are hazy. I expect I was quite tired at the time, but I do recall playing at something under a table.

I also sort of remember the daughter. I wasn't really playing with her - more alongside her - and I imagine we were too young to have held a conversation. But when I stretch my memory back, I can identify vague features. I remember her being blonde, and having a relatively long nose. That's about it, but then, I was two - the fact that I can remember it at all is an achievement in itself.

Dad never acted with this man again, although they did occasionally contact each other (but haven't done so for decades, so I hear). I never saw his daughter again, although our lives ran parallel for a while. We were both heavily invested in school productions, and we both decided to pursue acting in later life, with our respective fathers' blessing. The main difference being, of course, that she is doing a little better than I am.

I am very pleased for my childhood playmate.

Her father's name - Dad's co-star - was Will Knightley. Her name is Keira.

Wednesday, 7 March 2018


In Russ Meyer's penultimate skin flick, 1979's Beneath the Valley of the Ultravixens (his last, if you don't count Pandora Peaks), main character and huge pair of breasts Lavonia Shed frequently shouts "more cock!" during sex.

Presumably I knew this before the age of eighteen, but I don't recall doing so. Beneath the Valley... had a profound effect on me in my mid-teens, managing to catch it twice on Bravo. It's responsible for my first orgasm, plenty of successive orgasms, and some incredibly unrealistic expectations of what sex involves. It wasn't until I was legally old enough to buy it - I was in my first year at university at the time - that I managed to get all the references, and notice that, despite all the skin, there's a very important message hiding behind the softcore sheen.

I also didn't remember Lavonia's vocalisations during all the sex she has (and, seeing as how she's played by Kitten Natividad, that's quite a lot). I remembered all the screams, but I didn't remember the banter with Mr. Peterbuilt, the conversational make-up sex with her husband Lamar, or she and salesman Semper Fidelis making love in rhyming couplets. Nor did I remember "more cock!", but it is true - she shouts it in practically every sex scene, with some variation:

More! More cock! Give it to me! I want it - give me more cock!

And at one point:

¡Ay ay ay ay! ¡Gringo no call me Lola! ¡Lola no call me Gringo! ¡Coque mi!

In any case, I exposed myself to Kitten Natividad as Lavonia multiple times during my first year. I preferred Emmanuelle, to be honest, but I prized my copy of Beneath the Valley... highly, and the occasional references amused me greatly, from hanging onto my bass drum for support because I was laughing so much at my band playing Old-Time Religion to grinning myself inside out at the Anvil Chorus or Prince Igor playing as part of the music mix at my first job. And, of course, pretty much every time I heard the word "more!" ejaculated, I mentally added "cock!" I want it - give me more cock!

At one point during the film (several times, actually), Lavonia appends, "I love it!" to her already-rhapsodic adoration of cock. It's brutal, insofar as her delivery is concerned. And, for a while, "I love it!" became a catchphrase of mine - mostly because only I found it funny. And I used it to encourage myself, too. Just before an exam, I wrote myself a note of encouragement:

This test.
This English test.
I am going to ace it.
I am going to ace this test, this English test.
I am going to ace it.
I love it.

And after a few seconds, I added:

(More cock, etc.)

But why did it come back to me today? Truly, I've no real idea. I didn't at any point ask anyone for more or tell them I loved it. I didn't even speak fake Spanish. I spent most of the day on my feet, pausing only to guzzle some chocolate someone left in the break room or perch on the side of a desk because I was hurting so badly. I also said goodbye to some of my very favourite clients. Beneath the Valley... shouldn't have been on my mind at all.

But it was.

Maybe I just really love cock.

Saturday, 3 March 2018

The Girl in the Green Coat

For about a year, around the year 10 or 11 mark (I forget which, but I think it was year 10), I had a huge crush on one of the girls in my year. This shouldn't have come as a surprise - of course I had a crush; people do in their teens - what did come as surprise was the fact that the girl I liked was relatively famous (outside of our school), and apparently had a sixteen-year-old boyfriend (I was fifteen) outside of the confines of school. She had a career path planned, and couldn't wait to leave.

I told Einstein and Music Man, and later on another friend, which was a mistake, in hindsight. My bully, who by then had turned ally, read my lips in a reflection and worked out who it was. He then shouted it into a corridor. I denied it, but it was too late. For the next few months, her life was hell. I tried to avoid her, but since we rarely talked anyway, that wasn't difficult. Betrayed by someone I almost trusted, I spent my days trying to get a glance at her, then going home to cry and write emotional poetry. Quite a lot of poetry, in fact.

What I surprised myself with, however, was how - now that it was public knowledge and she was hating it - I was more willing to share. Even if the news hadn't travelled that far (and even my German teacher knew, so...), it hadn't escaped the whole year's attention that I had a crush. Even the girl two years below who had a crush on Lightsinthesky knew. Lightsinthesky knew too, of course, but then he knew everything.

Someone I didn't know very much and didn't like very much once cornered me on the bridge above the main road which I used to cross to get to school and demanded to know who I fancied.

"I'm surprised you don't know," I shrugged. And I told him her name.
"The girl in the green coat?" he suggested.
"Uhm... sure, why not?" I replied.

It took me a few minutes to work out what he had said. The silver girl I liked didn't wear a green coat, but one of my friends did. This was a female friend who had taken it upon herself to teach me how to flirt. I wasn't very good at it, but she was. I wasn't sure how she felt about me, but I doubt nowadays that she was at all interested past friendship. I had now told someone, inadvertently, that I had a crush on someone I didn't... but who I used to hang out with a lot, and flirt. It wouldn't have seemed inconceivable to an outsider that she was the object of my affections.

Things got stranger and weirder by the day. According to me, and my collection of poetry The Pleasure of Anthology, I was passionately and hopelessly in love with the silver girl. By the time I got around to compiling my second collection It's a Farmyard Out There!, I was passionately and hopelessly in love with the girl in the green coat. I was later interested, of course, in Moaner Lisa, plus the girl-I-used-to-have-a-crush-on, and then Soldiergirl, all in succession. None of them had a particularly good time being fancied by me, and the worst thing is, I couldn't actually do anything about it. I felt like I needed to apologise.

In the end, I did what any sane person would have done, and drew a diagram.

By the time I'd sorted everything out, the silver girl (with whom I had become friends) had left school, the girl in the green coat (who had since abandoned the green coat) had advanced to the sixth form with me and was now dating (and possibly shagging) the older guy who was a bit of a computer genius, the whole debacle with Soldiergirl had passed by, and everyone had moved on with their lives. I was still, of course, a little confused... but I wouldn't let on.

The last person I had a crush on while still at school also had a crush on me. She didn't go to my school and, later, became my first girlfriend. So this time I didn't feel guilty telling anyone who it was.

She was a little afraid of the colour green, though, so wouldn't be wearing any such coat.