Um... uh... SEX!!!

School is winding down for the year, and that means the classes are starting to get… odd.

In my novel class this week we were discussing sex scenes. Romantic sex scenes. Explicit sex scenes. Sexy, sexy sex scenes.

The whiteboard was divided into three categories very maturely named ‘Boy’s Bits’, ‘Girl’s Bits’ and ‘The Act.’ Our job was to fill the entire board with as many words as we could possibly think of to describe these things. It took almost a quarter of a century, but finally a moment occurred in my life where it was socially acceptable in a room full of people to yell ‘WANG!’
Now for homework I have to write a sex scene. I do not wish to do this.

They were making out and touching each other and stuff. Then he put his thingy in her whatsit and they, like, totally did it and that.

The day after this class, I went to see the Queen. She was in Melbourne. It was a beautiful day. I got quite badly sunburnt because I’ve inherited my mother’s fragile British skin. I didn’t get to see the Queen. I didn’t even get to see the Queen’s hat. But still, I was there. My point is this: standing in a crowd in the sun waiting to see an old lady doesn’t inspire you to write about the sexy times.

Thursday night was slightly more successful. I saw QI live on stage. If you don’t know what QI is, then you should Youtube it and fall in love. I had Stephen Fry, Alan Davies, Arj Barker* and Shaun Micallef all on the same stage, and even though Fry prefers the company of gentlemen, I’d have a crack at all of those blokes. Sadly, I got home too late to write anything.

After work today I spent the remainder of my afternoon doing ‘paperwork’ (if you haven’t read past blogs, ‘paperwork’ doesn’t mean paperwork, ‘paperwork’ means sexual harassment. But I can get away with it because I’m a young woman and not an old man. Double standards effing rock sometimes).

Still nothing. Then I remembered that earlier this year I purchased Kristen Schaal and Rich Blomquist’s The Sexy Book of Sexy Sex. Why? For the same reason I do anything: shits and giggles. I had forgotten about this book, and pulled it off the shelf to see I had left a bookmark on the page titled ‘Things you can do with hairy palms’. I’m choosing to believe this is just the page I was up to, and not one I thought I might need at a later date.

So how’s the sex scene going? I haven’t started it yet. I ate noodles and wrote this instead.

*I was in the same pub as Arj Barker once and he busted me staring at him and he winked at me and I lost my miiiind.