It was my physio who first introduced me to foam rollers and the concept of myofascial release. The fascia is that stretchy layer of fatty tissue that lies just under the surface of the skin and holds us all together.
If you look at a steak, you can see the white connective tissue adhering to the red meat. That’s fascia. It connects and weaves in and around the entire skeleton and sometimes it just gets really tight due to trauma, inflammatory responses, surgical procedures, overuse, or inactivity creating Myofascial restrictions which can put huge pressure on the organs/muscles underneath, creating further tension. It’s easier to understand if you imagine surgery and then the formation of the scar. When the fascia has been cut, it needs to heal and, being such an elastic tissue, it doesn’t always just knit together cleanly. Sometimes it can start adhering to the underneath of the scar tissue of the skin above, causing a puckering which can be felt in other connected parts of the body. So, for me, the fascia that was caught behind my caesarean scar had a sort of tethering effect and was actually pulling my shoulders forwards and down and I needed to start massaging it regularly to try to release the tension.
Myofascial release is the application of gentle pressure on the area until it relaxes. It’s a bit like sports massage where the practitioner sticks his elbow or thumb directly into the tight part of the muscle until the brain is persuaded to relax the tension.
Rather than get massaged every day, the physio recommended using a foam roller, both to stretch out my out out-of-shape torso and apply gentle pressure to the tight areas.
Lying with the roller horizontally under my shoulder blades I had to put my palms behind my head and then push back to try to touch my elbows to the ground – but without arching my back. It took a long time to be able to get anywhere near the ground. Then I could roll it up and down my back to release the tension around my shoulder blades.
It’s also great for stretching out and releasing the fascia behind tight calf and thigh muscles which are impeding the work of the hamstrings. Just put your legs across it and start rolling it backwards and forwards up and down your legs. It works anywhere that there is tension. You can lie on it on your side to work the top of your thigh and the glutes that lie beside gluteus maximus (I think it’s gluteus medius) and are responsible for the rotation of the hip joint. Hurts like hell but does wonders for loosening off any tightness.
And, if you have back problems, you can just lie with it up your spine – as illustrated – and listen to the clunks as your back realigns. Bliss!
I’ve had a pretty difficult few weeks with illness. I did drag myself to one gentle yoga class but it was really hard work and I decided to allow myself more time to recuperate. Sadly, three gentle couplings with Ruf spread over two days and I found myself with cystitis symptoms again, even though I had only just finished a course of antibiotics. So, I have an appointment booked with the doctor and I’m going to ask to get my wee tested for candida to see if it is that little organism which is causing these recurring infections.
I’ve been on the special diet for nine months now and I did have things under control. Well, until I spent three entire weeks with Ruf and we were at it almost every day. Clearly, my girlie bits just can’t cope with repeated regular poundings and maybe we will have to rethink our lovemaking to take account of this.
It seems so unfair that I discover the effectiveness of my G Spot, only to see the possibility of using it diminish.
I hate being punished for taking my pleasure.
If only I could use my foam roller to get some myofascial release on my bladder!
OK, so MRM chose ‘Best SNL spin-off’ as the theme this week. I guess I stand exposed in my Britishness in that I had to google SNL. Sure, I’ve heard of the show but I don’t believe that I have ever watched an episode. Wikipedia give a list of film spin-offs, including the Blues Brothers and Wayne’s World. Both are good films, but not ones that I would want to watch over and over again. The rest of the list I wouldn’t voluntarily choose to see at all.
The Sinead O’Connor Saturday Night Live protest against child abuse within the Catholic Church. In the rehearsal she held up a picture of an African child but, live, decided to be a little more contentious. There is a three minute version of the full song but, despite being a fabulous singer, her a capella version of ‘War’ is still a bit harsh on the ear, so I have reproduced just the ending to allow you to see what actually happened.
Wikipedia also mentions the famous Ashlee Simpson Saturday Night Live gaffe where she appeared to sing ‘Pieces of Me’ live but when she started to perform her second song, a pre-recorded track of ‘Pieces of Me’ began to play. She looked uncomfortable and unsure of what to do as they band played on. She jigged about nervously for a bit and then sort of meandered off the stage. And, at the end of the show, attempted to explain herself – with Jude Law’s help.
There is also talk about an incident between Rage Against The Machine and Steve Forbes but the only video evidence seems to have some legal issues attached so, discretion being the better part of valour, I shall not reproduce that here.
In the UK, we did have our own versions of both Saturday Live Friday Night Live – the former following the SNL format of guest hosts, the latter compered solely by Ben Elton – and featuring the best of British comedy.
From those shows emerged a wealth of budding talent – Harry Enfield’s ‘Stavros’ and ‘LoadsAMoney’ spring immediately to mind. He went on to get his own show and the movie spin-offs from those were the hideous but hysterical teenagers, Kevin and Perry. As the parent of such a male specimen, I appreciate these films far more these days.
With most UK children going back to school over the next few days, this really tickled me.
So many parents just don’t want to take responsibility for raising their kids. Some people seem to expect the schools to keep their progeny in line and ensure that they get good grades without the grown ups closest to them actually having to put in any effort at home. To make a child sit down and complete homework or actually get out of bed to attend class in the first place requires a certain amount of confrontation and enforcement.
Too many adults just don’t want to have to deal with any of the more unpleasant activities associated with parenting and it’s far easier to kick up a stink at the school’s ineptitude than actually remonstrate with their own offspring.
Some schools are fighting back… and more power to them.
You can play it without sound as there are subtitles.
“You think Cooper’s tough? You try living with a 13 year old girl who hates you. You’re so relaxed about it that I don’t think you’ve thought through the stress that children put on a relationship. What if it’s just too hard? Now I can deal with you breaking my heart, but I can’t deal with you breaking theirs.”
I’m not going to be breaking anyone’s heart. I’m not going to try to replace their father”
“But do you know what you do want to be?”
“Your partner. A very positive role model for the kids and for that I really need to have my own relationship with them”
Sarah Walker and Luc, Brothers and Sisters
She had met him briefly once before – a few years ago. A friend having a coffee after a seminar prior to being dropped at the station.
This time, of course, it was different. She knew he was my boyfriend. A man who clearly made me very happy.
I hated that I had to spin our relationship to being friends for some years before getting serious when I separated from her father. However, the alternative would just require too much information, too many awkward questions and realisations or confirmations on her part.
Sometimes discretion is the better part of valour.
I know that, above anything else, she wants me to be happy. That has been patently obvious from her comments regarding my apparent single status and her encouragement towards finding myself a young man.
But that is rather different from the momentous meeting of said male partner. Sitting on my sofa, they chatted easily about tattoos as I made coffee in the kitchen or visited the little girls’ room. There was a common ground on which they could meet half way and it was apparent that they were not uncomfortable together.
Perhaps, over the coming months, she will be able to get closer to him. He has a wealth of experience from a misspent youth that is totally alien to that accumulated during her father’s upbringing. He can understand her motives and behaviour in a way that her real parent will never be able to because he’s been there and done that.
He can treat her as an adult and, hopefully, tell her that she’s talking bollocks with impunity – because he is an outsider who does know about her lifestyle.
Ruf is not unfamiliar with this scenario. He was once involved with a woman who had a young family. It was not easy being the secondary adult male, no matter how much he loved their mother. And, when it became apparent that her desires for her children no longer coincided with his plans for the future, they grew apart. He stayed for a long time to protect the children, until tjhe atmosphere was more harmful for them if he stayed. It was a very difficult time for everyone.
I have my fingers firmly crossed that this is a very different situation and things will play out rather better.
So, Ruf and I have been together almost continuously for six weeks. He’s seen me puking, applied cream to my hemorrhoid and, consequently, he has also seen me in big, comfortable pants. A thong is just not possible when it feels as if the inside of your arse is hanging out – like one of those monkeys at the zoo.
I was reminded of this sketch from ‘Coupling’ where ‘Steve’ holds forth about the progression of a relationship in terms of womens knickers and hosiery.
The thing is that I really do love wearing thongs and hold ups. The feel of the fabric of my outfit against my bare butt cheeks makes me feel sexy. And the look of my thighs encased in lace turns me on. But, in a relationship, it is more than that.
When your man also knows that you are garbed in a scrap of frilly satin and stockings, he gets excited too. If he verbally expresses his approval of the outfit like a big woolly dog, then it adds to the whole scenario. A sneak preview of the physical delights to follow later.
There is the evening out to enjoy, but, as your eyes meet across the crowded room, there is also the anticipation of returning home for the ceremonial removal of the outer layers to reveal the lingerie beneath. And the ensuing coupling really caps a great night together.
So, it’s about feeling sexy… but it’s also about being acknowledged as such by the man in your life.
As women, we have a duty to maintain both our bodies and the contents of our underwear drawer, but it is down to our menfolk to retain and vocalise their admiration and appreciation of those efforts. Otherwise, what’s the point?
If such garments become common place and a man expects us to be wearing them, then they will become blase and stop taking note of the fact.
Sometimes big pants are a wake-up call that all is not well with a relationship. She’s stopped making an effort because he’s stopped taking the time to notice.
Women’s knickers – it’s a question of mutual respect.
For those of you who are working towards the ultimate goal of the prostate orgasm, here’s a great resource on How To Massage The Prostate that is suitable for both beginners and those who have been attempting to achieve this feat, either with fingers or a prostate massage device like the Aneros MGX.
As well as a whole bunch of extras – “Oral Sex Secrets for Orgasms”, “How to Do Dirty Talking” and “Sensational First Time Anal Sex Reports” – the Secrets of Prostate Massage comes with a 60 day money back guarantee so, if you’re not completely happy that you’ve learned something worthwhile, you can get a refund.
However, having read it myself, I’m sure that you will find lots of useful information about how to locate and manipulate the prostate – either solo or with a partner – to get the best results.
There is advice and tips on how to maintain a rock hard erection through a number of orgasms without using chemical drugs and how to prepare, relax and lubricate those anal muscles for worry-free insertion – a concern which is at the forefront of many gentleman’s minds in this scenario. After all, it’s meant to be an exit, not an entrance. I can assure you, from my own personal experience with Ruf, that, to be successful, you do need to be relaxed and comfortable… and lubed up!
There is even a free download to help you to deal with any emotional difficulties regarding insertion, although this should not encourage you to stick ‘just anything’ into that orifice. Stick to your fingers or a specifically-designed, purpose-built device like the Aneros or you might well find yourself in A&E in an embarrassing situation. Unlike the vagina, the anus is not closed at one end. Anything you stick in there must have a fatter base to ensure that it does not get sucked in permanently. Those anal sphincter muscles are incredibly effective.
But it’s also important to be clean and there is a very helpful section on preparation that will help you to change your diet and lifestyle to ensure that you have a healthy colon in the future.
What Ruf and I found most interesting was learning the science behind deeper and more powerful orgasms and, why prostate massage provides a *“Total Protection Package” as a man ages.
For a start, Australian researchers questioned over 2,000 men – some of whom already had prostate cancer, but others who did not – and their data clearly showed that men who ejaculated six or more times per week were 30% less likely to develop prostate cancer in later life.
So, when your guy says it makes him ill if he doesn’t wank or have sex regularly, he is actually telling the truth.
Through my research for a male health site, there also seems to be evidence that regular prostate massage can help to promote better circulation and prevent some of the enlargement problems that afflict so many men as they reach middle age. If you combine this with a good diet and regular exercise, you will be doing everything possible to protect your prostate. Problems with urination and erectile dysfunction are not inevitable - if you know how to look after yourself.
However, one word of caution. If you are already suffering such symptoms, you should visit your doctor to rule out prostate disease before you start to experiment with prostate massage as it can exacerbate certain conditions.
If you want to experience better sex and share earth shattering orgasms with or without a partner, this book will show you what you need to know. The sections on massage and how to stop his orgasm contained a large number of very successful techniques which Ruf and I will certainly be utilising as part of our regular lovemaking in the future.
However, it was the chapter on separating orgasm from ejaculation and actually milking the prostate which really make this book a gem. There are a fair few typos but, if you can get past those, the instructions are clear and concise and the author really does seem to know what he’s talking about.
He sets particular emphasis on Kegel exercises – or, more specifically, the male version which he calls the PC (Pubococcygeus) Pump. Just as regular Kegel or pelvic floor exercises can promote better and stronger orgasms for women, so the PC Pump has the same effect for men.
I also enjoyed the paragraphs that focussed on maintaining the connection during the ‘Afterglow’. This is a vastly neglected area of lovemaking, especially for couples who are parents. For so many partnerships, sex is all about satisfying a mutual physical need as quickly as possible and then getting some much-needed sleep. Such an attitude can serve to break a relationship through emphasising the separation of the two entities.
I love lying in Ruf’s arms as we stroke and tickle each other, looking into each others’ eyes and kissing. It’s like a celebration of what we have just achieved. Mutual applause and appreciation. This connection is the basis of tantric sex. It’s what sustains the best and most satisfying sexual performances and refusing to acknowledge it either before, during or after can be catastrophic. However, if you take the time to ‘cool down’ together afterwards, it can carry you through to the next time that you have sexual relations – no matter how far ahead that coupling may be.
The final chapter of the book is a detailed instruction manual on how to massage the prostate with an Aneros. If, like us, you want to achieve the best results with such a device, you should go check out the Secrets of Prostate Massage today.
My review of the Aneros will follow in a few weeks.
With thanks to DiscoBlog for pointing me in the direction of these two videos showing MRI Sex and explaining how it was achieved within the confines of the scanner. The question of ‘what does sex look like?’ actually answered before your eyes.
And so wonderful to see the couple involved actually recreating the scenario, complete with their obvious affection for each other some years on.
Here is the report that they refer to in the British Medical Journal, complete with Da Vinci’s original sketch.
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Trust me guys, once you go Jack Jelly, you will never want to go back. Its a non-oily, self warming lubricant, which feels like your very own precum. There are so many pros I don’t know where to start.
Well, it’s been a very strange few weeks since I took this photo of my pretty black lace bra.
No sex for starters!
Having had such a torrid time for two weeks, I feel almost afraid to risk penetrative sex in case it causes the kidney infection to flare up again. I’m concerned that it may be having a psychological effect on my libido.
Ruf is his normal understanding self but he does keep waggling his genitals at me pseudo-threateningly and joking about my frigidity in mockery of my ex’s stance on being similarly denied. He certainly won’t be letting the situation lie and it will need to be addressed over the next day or so.
It’s not that I don’t find him attractive, he is the cutest, sexiest guy I have ever met and I find it impossible to resist the temptation to reach out my hand to touch him at every opportunity. But, at the back of my mind is the fear of the discomfort I endured as a result of the last pounding. I begged for that one. Assured him in no uncertain terms that he might have finished but I certainly wasn’t. The third Albert clone was introduced into the fray and I suffered as a result of his rabid attentions.
So now I have to face the fear and get back in the saddle. Retake Ruf’s virginity is how he puts it, semi-petulantly reminding me that he’s not been so long without sex for ages. I have created a monster and now I have to satisfy his needs.
I shall be girding my loins over night and hope to have rectifed the issue with gusto by the time you read this.
MRM has chosen ‘Favourite Actor from the 1990s’ as this week’s theme.
Harrison Ford was a strong contender in this category but he’s a little too obvious so, after some hunting around, I remembered two other extremely under-rated and yet totally charismatic actors, who can always be relied upon to put in a mesmerising performance.
Sam Neill is not the most obvious of choices but he was the quintessential Brian de Bois-Guilbert in a version of Ivanhoe that had my heart thumping in my breast with lust to be taken by the bad guy. More television appearances followed with Reilly, Ace of Spies and Kane and Abel, I just thought he was soooo cute. ‘A Cry in the Dark’, the fabulous sailing thriller, ‘Dead Calm’ and ‘The Hunt for Red October’ saw him move into celluloid big time and 1993 was the year of both ‘The Piano’ and, of course, ‘Jurassic Park’.
More recently, he was a wonderfully Machievellian Cardinal Wolsey in Hollywood’s ‘The Tudors’… and even portly and grey, I’d still do him :)
Ralph Feinnes burst into my life as the evil Nazi with the most extraordinary eyes in ‘Schindler’s List’. There followed a complete change of character in ‘Quiz Show’ and again in ‘Strange Days’. Charismatic and beautifully spoken but it was always the eyes that had it.
Richard: I’m not sure… I think so, but it could be… maybe it’s just the waddle.
Ally: Excuse me? Richard: On her neck. That’s what I go for with older women. The loose skin on their neck… the hint of a waddle. There’s nothing more arousing for me, the way it just gently hangs there. And Whipper, I mean… I mean her neck is pretty tight now but you can see the potential, it will be perfect! So perfect! I wonder do I really love her or just the impending waddle? It just makes me crazy!
Richard Fish and Ally McBeal
It starts off as the tiniest little tag of skin deep under your chin but, as you get older, the Waddle increases in size. I suppose that, in some cases, it could be seen as the appealling appendage so beloved by Richard Fish in Ally McBeal but, for many women, it can be the start of sagging jowls.
As I get older, I am ever more conscious of the impending signs of old age and, in particular, the skin of my neck. Like some demented witch, I was alert to the first crepey fissures that denoted the reduction in elasticity from the lack of collagen in the flesh there.
Watching ‘Brothers and Sisters’ recently, there were four women in the scene. Norah (played by Sally Field) in her late fifties/early sixties, Holly (played by Patricia Wettig) in her early fifties, Sarah (played by Rachel Field) in her early to mid forties and Rebecca (played by Emily Van Camp) in her early twenties.
The differences in the condition of their necks was fascinating. The young, plump flesh of the twenty year old through to the saggy, dimpled flesh of the sixty year old. Of course, it’s hard to find any illustrations of this because all photographic evidence has been heavily airbrushed but you’ll notice that in the second picture, Patricia Wettig is wearing a very fancy scarf to disguise her own problematic neck area.
I love Patricia. She used to star in 30something and has aged incredibly gracefully, seemingly without surgery, a feat which I view with a huge amount of admiration. Admittedly, Brothers and Sisters is produced by her husband, Ken Olin, so she is bound to get some help when it comes to lighting and camera angles but that lady is still looking really good.
Not content with the crepey texture, women of a certain age can also be distinguished by the prominence of the tendons that stretch up from the base of the neck to underneath the jaw. It doesn’t matter how much work they have done on their faces, it is their necks that give them away but the idea of having some of this work done fills me with horror.
Type 1
Younger patients with mild blunting of the mandibular border with or without microgenia and submental lipodystrophy.
Treatment
Ultrasonic-assisted liposuction with or without adding an anatomical chin implant.
Type 2
Older patients with mild laxity of the submental area, with or without microgenia and submental lipodystrophy.
Treatment
Ultrasonic-assisted liposuction, unidirectional Quill® barbed sutures, with or without adding an anatomical chin implant.
Type 3
Older patients who exhibit the findings in Type 2, and who have short, thin platysmal bands that end at the hyoid.
Treatment
Closed liposuction, open neck contouring from submental incisions incorporating the Quill suture system for midline platysma placation and contouring.
Type 4
Older patients who demonstrate the findings in Category 2 and have long platysma bands that are visible from the clavicles to the jawline.
Treatment
Closed liposuction of the neck; preauricular, postauricular, and submental incisions with midline platysma plication and contouring with the Quill SRS bidirectional sutures; a backcut of the plastysma muscle at or below the level of the cricoid cartilage, as well as an extended SMAS/platysma rotation flap and a double layer sling support of the neck utilizing the Quill SRS system.
Despite my skinny frame, I may have some blurring of the mandible, along with mild laxity of the submental area and long platysma bands that are visible from the clavicles to the jawline. However, the idea of having lyposuction and surgery to correct these imperfections just seems perverse. I guess I could put on some weight to fill out the looser flesh but I suspect that will serve only to accentuate the mandible blurring and waddle, leading to actual jowls.
Of course, Ruf laughs at me when I complain about my ancient neck and point out all its imperfections. He loves kissing me there, delights in finding my pulse and placing his lips upon it. His view is that no one is going to be looking for baggy skin there if I’m showing off my fabulous cleavage and decolletage. So, I guess it’s a case of remembering Gok Wan’s tips in ‘How To Look Good Naked’ and dressing well. V neck shirts rather than round, which serve only to accentuate your baggy neck. Necklaces and scarves which draw the attention downwards.
Oh, and an awful lot of upbrushing with my fingers when I’m applying moisturiser. That’s definitely supposed to help.
So many of us swear that we will not turn into our mothers, particularly when it comes to parenting. And then, twenty years later, we hear and see ourselves – the querulous or strident voice, the absent-minded physical gestures. Without even realising it, we have become what we always dreaded. Genetics have had their way, despite our best intentions.
But what is it about that whole Moms-Daughters relationship thing that makes so many daughters rebel against the nurturing figure that is their mother? That, as teenagers, has them shouting vitriol and refusing to accept that their mother has any knowledge about… well, anything at all.
I was a turbulent teenager and, sure, I kicked off when I didn’t get my own way and said some unforgivable things. But I was also a very caring child who, when she got in before her working mother, would start peeling spuds and try to help out around the house.
Soon after, my Mum moved away from her marital difficulties and the traumas of trying to bring up ungrateful and unpleasant teenage girls and I found myself firmly carrying the can. It’s why I always swore that, no matter how hard things got, I would not be passing the same poisoned chalice to my own daughter.
What I always dreamed of was to be able to go and spend the day with my daughter doing some form of activity – even just clothes shopping – stopping for lunch and just enjoying each other’s company. An event that had been impossible with my own mom. There were times during my daughter’s teenage years when I despaired of this ever coming to pass, she quite clearly hated me when I loved her so very much.
As time has gone on, I have come to understand the circumstances that can force a peri-Menopausal woman to just up sticks and walk away from her kids.
My Mum worked full-time. My Dad was, at heart, a good man but he liked a drink and a bit of fun and was a lot more relaxed, accepting that teenagers will do what they will do and shouting and screaming at them in the aftermath isn’t going to help matters.
However, it was his less than respectful attitude towards Mum in front of us kids which left us in no doubt that her opinions counted for very little and with three sets of unbalanced female hormones battling it out for supremacy, two of them with the tacit support of the other authority figure in their lives, my mother became increasingly isolated.
When a man showed her some love and affection that she definitely wasn’t getting at home, it’s not surprising that she decided that she might have more fun if she moved 300 miles away to live with him.
Skip forward three decades and, despite my best efforts, I found myself in a similar situation with my own family. A man who was not bad, just disrespectful, and who encouraged his children to treat their mother in a similar way.
For so many years, I just kept repeating the mantra that I wouldn’t do a runner like my Mum, no matter how miserable I was. That I would suck it up and still be a good parent. Loving and being there for my kids meant more to me than my own self-worth, no matter how angry I was when it came to actually trying to deal with them. I couldn’t see it then, but I was not being a good parent, just a miserable, shouty and ‘challenged’ one. SuperNanny would have had a field day.
Until there came a point where my position as their Mother became untenable. My children thought it was within their rights to verbally abuse me if they could not get their own way… and their father did nothing to stop them. I had no control, no standing and no self-respect.
History was repeating itself, but I couldn’t leave. I had sworn to myself that I would not desert my children – and, more specifically, that I would never dump the household chores onto my daughter, especially as she was now the same age that I had been. That wound was still so raw for me and I couldn’t inflict it on my little girl.
With counselling, I started to understand that perpetuating an ever destructive circle was only causing harm to everyone. My children needed a strong mother who could help them through the tricky teenage years ahead of them, when their father would be burying his head in the sand like an ostrich. I had to find a way to satisfy all the needs around me and I did it by parenting from round the corner.
Away from the dark pall of a dead relationship, I blossomed and, as a result, my relationship with my daughter improved dramatically. Suddenly, the consistent parenting style of a confident, independent woman who has stepped off the hamster wheel of repetitive behaviour, earned her respect.
These days, we are able to spend a day together shopping and having coffee or just watching an old movie on television here in my flat – just the way that I always dreamed. It’s not all plain sailing, she still has a lot of growing up to do, but I feel that we are on the right path and her encouragement that it was time to start dating was a real thrill.
So, last week, she popped over and spent the afternoon with me and Ruf. Just sitting and chatting in a really relaxed atmosphere and it was fun. They were interacting together and, suddenly, all my fears melted away. My daughter wants me to be happy and we have carefully rebuilt a relationship that was in tatters because of the continual interference of her father. His refusal to understand that bad behaviour must be dealt with immediately and with conviction, no matter how difficult or painful, meant that we never got to the healing hug of understanding from a lesson that had been learned. As a result, she hated any form of physical contact and would fight my attempts to cuddle her.
But we have worked through it together and, these days, when she comes to say goodbye, she is comfortable about instigating and returning an affectionate hug with her Mum – and that is priceless. I just love her to pieces for the personal strides forward that she has made.
Her acceptance and understanding has meant that my own wound is starting to heal and, whilst I cannot yet forgive, I can now understand why my own mother did what she did and try to build a new relationship with her.
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This comment first appeared a couple of months ago and, whilst not the best English, it looked innocent enough, until I noticed the title of the post upon which he was purportedly commenting – when it made no sense at all.
It was another of those painful automated comment generators, spamming my blog. These are ‘black hat’ techniques used by internet marketers to get back links on other people’s blogs via a back door method.
As an internet marketer myself, I’m quite happy for people to use my comments box to get back links to their own site that will boost their rating with Google. I appreciate that, as a Page Rank 3 website, I’m a good target. Hell, I’ve even set up a ‘Comment Luv’ plug in to facilitate the process! But these comments have to make a valid point,. validating or repudiating what I’ve said in the piece or addressing some issue/research that I have not considered. It needs to add to the discussion.
I refuse to allow lazy people to just submit gibberish or generic platitudes which show categorically that they have not read my work and then have the cheek to add in a hyperlink to some unrelated product. My comments box is not a free advertising hoarding.
Some of these comments will have been randomly planted by an ‘outsourcer’. Guys sitting on their computers in India or the Philippines or India, who are paid $2 per hour by rich Westerners to spend all day ‘scraping’. They scour the world wide web looking for websites that are involved in the same niche or are focusing on the same keywords and leave their little deposits referring back to the real owner’s domain.
And the scrapers now have a new tool. Article spinners. This means that they can write one very generic comment and then put it into the equivalent of a thesaurus which changes it into thousands of slightly different versions. The more it’s spun, the more garbled it gets.
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Do What?
Well, I’m assuming that ‘pillar’ used to be ‘post’ in the original format…
Working my way through my spam filter (which is so clever I could kiss it), there are a fair few that seem innocuous enough until you realise that there are actually four or five versions of the same comment from different ‘commenters’. And now I am getting comments along the lines of ‘Why have you removed my comment, it was full of useful information?’. These people will try anything to get a link on this site. Anything except actually read the post and write a useful and informative comment.
In all the webinars I’ve been on that advocate leaving comments, they invariably tell you to be respectful and interact with the blog owner if you want your comment to be successfully posted. It just seems like common sense. To write something that has no value and is clearly spam just isn’t going to make the cut so is a waste of effort.
So, what on earth is the point of leaving a series of letters that make no sense at all around a link, which sometimes is also nonsensical. This is the latest offering that I have started to find, both as comments and in reply to my ‘contact me’ box.
I have had to set my blog so that it does not allow comments from new users to be published without my authorisation, which is a real pain and a shame.
Ruf and I first came across vibrating balls when we reviewed the Doc Johnson Waterproof Pleasure Massage Ball some years ago. Operated by a push button control, it was good fun placing it on each other’s genitalia and testing out the three speed settings. I remember that it did a good job as a clit stimulator whilst he took me from behind, with the added dimension of multi-functionality in that he could rest his balls on it and enjoy equal amounts of stimulation as he got on with the thrusting. It certainly generates some energy into its vibrations.
At the time, I marked it down a bit because, with circumference measuring 10.25 inches around and a diameter: of 3.3 inches, it’s quite a big beasty. This means that it’s hard to pinpoint the buzz on a specific area and just vibrating my entire nether regions, whilst pleasant, is unlikely to give me a full-on orgasm. It also got in the way when Ruf tried to enter in Missionary position.
Add to this the fact that the strength of the vibration and the weight of the ball made my outstretched arm ache. Well, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to work out why it languished at the back of a drawer for many months.
However, when my back was aching in the aftermath of my illness, I remembered the ball and how pleasant it had been to have it rolled over my body (and Ruf’s balls and perineum) when we had played with it before.
The different levels of vibration meant that, when I was feeling particularly delicate, it wasn’t too intrusive, just restful. And, as I got better, the strength of the vibration combined with added pressure served to really hit the spot in my lower back, especially when Ruf was the one dealing with its manoeuvres and I didn’t have to worry about the weight giving me an ‘achy arm’.
Made from Skin Safe Rubber (TPR), it feels like a rigid plastic against the skin and does not contain latex or phthalates. It is submersible so it can be used in the bath and requires 3 AA batteries.
The Doc Johnson Waterproof Pleasure Massage Ball is good for both solo and couple play and rings the changes from the usual wands and dildos in the toy box, as well as having an extra sideline as a massage device.
Ask almost any women who has had a baby and she’ll tell you.
For me, I managed to avoid the damn things during pregnancy but a tough labour, followed by a caesarean meant that I lost a lot of blood and some medically qualified idiot prescribed me FOUR iron pills daily to redress the balance. My poo turned into rabbit droppings and I discovered my first ‘pile’.
The lining of the anus is a rich supply of blood vessels that form a carpet of blood-filled cushions to help the passage of the waste material out of the sphincter.
Unfortunately, hormonal imbalances like those experienced during pregnancy and menopause, sitting on the toilet for too long in the hope of expelling a reluctant poop or a diet that is too low in fibre can all result in this effective process going tits up. The cushion gets stuck under the fecal matter and starts moving further outside the anal canal than it should. Some people even excrete their own hemorrhoids because the little lump makes them feel as if they ‘still need to go’.
In most cases, the pile will spring back inside once the poop has passed but, for others, it remains resolutely external and requires one of the many type of hemorrhoids cream to shrink it sufficiently that it can return to its normal position. I can remember being desperately jealous of a young woman in one of my toddler groups who happily regaled the rest of us with stories of how her husband was quite happy to apply her pile cream. I envied her the intimacy that allowed her not to care about such exposure.
For many, the shrinking hemorrhoid will leave a little parting gift in the form of a skin tag – the swollen distended sac that it once filled and this can make keeping yourself clean something of a challenge forever afterwards. It is possible to get these little flaps of skin removed but most doctors will advise you to grin and bear it as the operation itself can be extremely uncomfortable.
Now, as I may have mentioned before, Ruf is very fond of my bottom. He was first in there, he is territorial and proprietorial. He feels like he planted his flag. To him, its entrance is a thing of beauty for all my complaints about its deformity. He just cannot wait to get in and manages to navigate his way through the difficulties at the entrance quite expertly these days.
One of the more unpleasant side effects of my illness was the discovery that, after behaving itself for several years, my pile had escaped again. So, when he saw me struggling with the tube of cream in one hand and a finger waggling between my butt cheeks, he became quite dictatorial… and that’s how I found myself flat on my back with my legs in the air for, as far as I was concerned, all the wrong reasons.
To Ruf, the application of my hemorrhoids cream was just taking care of business to ensure his toys were in good working order; nothing more significant than greasing up any other important nut or bolt. He could see what needed to be done, I couldn’t. It made sense for him to be at the business end.
To me, it was the knowledge that this man loves both me and my body so much that he really doesn’t care about propriety or ‘personal’ care. Our bodies belong to each other and, if one can assist the other, no social niceties are going to be standing in the way.
Through being ill, our relationship has only seemed to become even more intimate.
I feel cossetted, pampered and creamed up.
This man really loves me and everything is alright with the world.
It was my physio who first introduced me to foam rollers and the concept of myofascial release. The fascia is that stretchy layer of fatty tissue that lies just under the surface of the skin and holds us all together. 
Well, it’s been a very strange few weeks since I took this photo of my pretty black lace bra.
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