My dirty little secret

Gentle readers, it is time that we had a quiet word, for I notice some of you coming… and there is nothing wrong with that, nothing at all- in fact, it is to be encouraged! However, then you are going, only to come back again, before going again… without ever leaving a calling card.

I blush for you, gentle reader… truly, I do. But one really must consider how this lack of courtesy appears to the general public. Perhaps you had not given this any thought?

Allow me to illustrate.

Have you ever had the misfortune to invite a gentleman caller to spend a night in your company, only to find that you have been deceived? With the lights off and no one to watch his performance, you discover that the impostor is a gentleman in appearance only, for he intends to lie back- on your bed- allowing you do all of the work! Once that so-called gentleman has been pleasured, imagine your outrage if he were to leave immediately, without so much as going through the motions of offering his calling card, or bothering to help you wiping up the…

Does this subtle little hint help to clear things up for you? Does it?

Very well, then… I have no choice but to spell it out.

My humble bloguette does not exist exclusively for your personal enjoyment: it is a means to an end, intended to attract your attention in my direction. As it stands, while I sense a strong interest and attraction on your side, we have not yet arrived at a satisfactory arrangement whereby I am provided with sufficient attention.

Legitimately you enquire why I do not expect those fortunate enough to be within my intimate social circle to provide for my attentions? Let me assure you that they do, yet to be admired by those who know me is no longer enough to satisfy my insatiable needs: it is anonymous attention from those who I am unlikely to ever meet (and, if truth be told, probably have no interest in ever meeting) that I crave and claim.

To tell those who know me of my humble bloguette’s existence, and expect them to pay a regular tribute, would be the equivalent of arranging a surprise birthday party for myself. How sad is that?

For me, the bloguette is the equivalent of a married gentleman in a monogamous relationship who gets cheap thrills sneaking into a gay dark room behind his partner’s back; considered in such terms, you are sure to understand where I am coming from.

At present, you are my dirty little secret. Yes, gentle reader, no one who knows me actually knows about the secret exchanges that we are enjoying so much.

The idea of establishing a bloguette was mentioned in passing to X, who expressed an enthusiastic interest in reading and contributing on a regular basis, let me assure you. I blush horribly at the thought of how he might assassinate my character if he found his way to these pages, relieved only in the knowledge that I can moderate his comments (and that he’d write in Spanish, which I trust most of you do not understand) For that reason, I have not mentioned the subject of my bloguette even to him since. However, he knows me well too well; apparently, he recently purchased a new laptop with a high speed connection, which says enough. I imagine he spends hour upon hour scouring the internet, looking for the pages that you have been fortunate enough to stumble upon. (He will, one expects, google using such predictable terms as ‘perfect partner’, ‘fabulously funny’ and ‘insatiable in bed’: the guise of a 231 year old virgin appears to have fooled him… for now)

But I digress, gentle reader.

In short, If I wanted to be left alone, I would be re-writing Joyce’s ‘Ulysses’ without adding any sparkle: instead I have chosen a well-loved classic, a light and pleasing comedy that explores the pleasures of society, full of witty intercourse... and camped it up. You have snickered occasionally, have you not? When I first started, the very least I expected was justifiable outrage from the Jane Austen fan base, or the abusive remark from the great homophobic heterosexual unwashed, to which I was prepared to respond with a brilliant put-down. But no… hardly anything at all, hardly a trickle of interest!

So in future, please bear in mind that my demands for attention must be attended to on a regular basis. If not, one will find little spy-ders (and not the itsy bitsy sort; I’m talking about the big hairy lesbian variety) creeping inside your computer to track you down, taking whatever steps are necessary to name and shame you. (Perhaps there are files on your computer that you’d rather not share with the rest of the world? It would be a dreadful thing if they fell into the wrong hands, wouldn’t it? Oh yes indeed, I thought that might have you shifting uncomfortably in your seat)

Perhaps of greater immediate concern to you is this: if my demands for more attention are not serviced, let me assure you that I will make alternative arrangements. That might mean leaving you in the lurch, or perhaps informing my own social circle of the bloguette’s existence which would inevitably result in unfortunate consequences for my readership, because if I actually believed those who knew me might read a word of this nonsense, one might not be so… revealing.

You wouldn’t want that to happen, would you?

I thought not.

It may seem that I am being demanding upon you, but I assure you that is not my intention… not so early in our acquaintance, not yet.

Try to look at my unreasonable demands in a positive light: consider that there are considerable advantages to your active involvement in this bloguette by way of a calling card. Why, in return, you will receive attention from me. If that is not enough reward, your comment will also contribute to the direction which this bloguette takes. At present, we are in a gestation; one does not quite know in which direction one wants all of this to go. Why not declare which postings have you spluttering coffee across the office? One will endeavour to have you spluttering more often.

There are other advantages still.

You might recall that I recently mentioned in passing that I spent an enjoyable night with a gentleman caller? Yes, I thought that might ring a little bell or three. Here’s a little something to consider: while real gentlemen never discuss what goes on behind closed doors, I’m sure you are perceptive enough to appreciate that I am not a real gentleman. However, I do require a gentle prompting or coaxing before dishing all of the dirt. And I mean ALL of it. (Three gushing comments ought to do the trick... from different people!)

Finally, let us remember that a gossip talks about others and a bore talks about himself, but a brilliant conversationalist talks about you. You will be relieved to learn that I have no intention of being a bore, which is one of the reasons why I prefer to engage in dialogue with my audience (the other reason being that it is much easier to be amusing when you have the misfortune and foolishness of others to mock) but, like violent love-making, brilliant conversation cannot be done alone. One needs at least one other participant... preferably more.

You’d like to be considered a brilliant at something, wouldn’t you? Then why not try to be a brilliant conversationalist?

Shall we try this together? Well, then… let’s talk about something… preferably me.