You Used to Get It in your Fishnets, Now You Only Get It in your Night Dress (Also, Announcements, Patreon and Ko-Fi, etc etc, Mostly It's About the Fishnets) · 1:11am Dec 17th, 2018
My sister entered the room without knocking, and caught me reading the Kama-Sutra out loud to my hand-carved, fuck-ugly wooden Beethoven bust.
The fuck-ugly bust in question
I was at the part where the book explains how to get rid of a lover you don’t want anymore.
“You see, Beethoven.” I don’t feel comfortable calling the bust ‘ludwig’ yet. I respect it too much. “Whenever he wants sex, you have to say that you’re too tired, and complain about the smell of his feet. But whenever he is visibly tired, you have to demand sex yourself, and then show no pleasure whatsoever and barely move so he does all the work.” I was paraphrasing; the actual list of all the stuff you have to do is much longer. “Man they really got this covered.”
“Aragón.”
I close the book and turn around. My sister is there. “Uh.” I raise the book. “I found the Kama-Sutra!”
“I could hear you from the living room.”
“Ah. I was reading it to Beethoven.” I point at the bust. “This is hilarious.”
There’s a pause.
“Aragón, either get laid or kill yourself, but you really can’t go on like this.”
The strangest thing about having this fucking weird-ass punk-bitch blog schedule where I literally only come here to write stupid shit, lecture you on something, or do both at the same time, is that whenever I’m actually blogging about something like God intended? It feels like I’m sticking my dick in a popsicle! I cum anyway, but boy, do I get the shivers.
So as you can guess by the fact that I routinely read romantic advice to a hand-carved, fuck-ugly wooden Beethoven bust, I am currently experimenting with being a decadent asshole, but like, in a sexy way. Right.
Like, I wear a robe and slippers around the house because this is Barcelona and we don’t have heating, and it’s all red and fuzzy? So I look like a mixture of a playboy landlord and a boxer who can only get off when someone breaks his teeth with a left hook.
It’s a delicate look, but I make it work.
All this to say, the Universe is kind of forcing me to take it easy lately. I’m currently looking for a job and doing interviews and shit, but the ones that are interested in me are kind of terrible [1] and the ones I’m interested in are hard to get. I’m aiming to become an auditor, or maybe something a bit more entry-level, so I can save up for my Master’s.
[1] My absolute favourite: Dude who, after explaining that I would have to pretty much create and develop the whole ‘Accounting ’n Shit’ part of the company, slipped 40 minutes into the interview that he “hadn’t planned on paying me” and that “it was a surprise that I had asked for a salary, actually”. He tentatively added: “Well, if I absolutely have to, how about… 400 euros a month? Does that sound good?” and then reassured me that, yes, this work is 8 hours a day 5 days a week why are you asking.
No, that pay is not legal. Why are you asking. What? No, you wouldn’t get a contract. Didn’t I just tell you this wasn’t legal?
WAIT WHY ARE YOU WALKING OUT.
But man, taking it easy is not something I’m familiar with. I pretty much take care of the house while my sister works (no matter how many interviews a week I do, it’s really not a full-time job) but at one point I just run out of shit to do.
So I just write a lot and try to relax and sit back? And I’m terrible at it.
Hence.
Erotic literature to Beethoven.
“I was bored! And you really need to hide this better.” I look at the Kama-Sutra again. “Did you know you can’t marry a woman whose feet and palms sweat too much? But you can seduce a married woman if her husband is rich and you want to kill him and get all his shit. Somehow that’s less immoral.” I look at my sister. “Also there’s a thing called the Hare’s Foot which serves no purpose other than to brag that you can do weird shit in bed.”
“Jesus fucking Christ give me that.”
My whole family agrees: I really need to get a job.
A lot of stuff has happened in the meantime; this blog is a bit of a hodgepodge sorta thing. I’m gonna just scattershot some shit here? Sadly, not everything is Kama-Sutra related, but I can try to pepper in some stuff here and there to keep the blog spicy.
I’ve been working on a story for more than a year by now. It’s the literary equivalent of tongue-kissing a rattlesnake: impressive if I pull it off, but I’m gonna fucking die anyway?
That said, it’s eight chapters long. They’re all drafted, and chapters 1-to-6 are all edited and ready for posting; the last two will be finished in like a couple days, once my editors stop punching me in the stomach for throwing all this shit at them in one go.
And then I’m posting it all at once.
Like, no, for real, fuck it. This entire thing is too long and I never know how to do like weekly fucking updates? And a lot of people dislike reading incomplete stories, and I’m actually one of them.
So fuck it. Eight chapters (plus one epilogue) in one go and like 75k words that I’ll post at once. THERE. THAT’S HOW BIG MY DICK IS. Octavia and Vinyl need to hug for eight hours—or the building explodes will be the short description; it’s unironically one of my most ambitious stories and wow I am a parody of myself aren’t I.
Anyway yeah fuck it. Shot my shot with this one already-the people who like my stuff will love it, the people who don’t like my stuff will probably not read it and then roll around in bed, sleepless, consumed by desire, dreaming of my handsome face and luscious penis. Such is life, sometimes. So it goes.
Okay, so, check this. There are eight sounds you do during sex when getting spanked, apparently:
- Hinn
- A THUNDEROUS Sound
- A Cooing Sound
- A Whiny Sound
- Phutt
- Phatt
- Sutt
- Platt
Phutt. This is fucking hysterical. I absolutely love it. Imagine riding someone and they start going PHUTT PHUTT PHUTT at full volume. It’s like you’re fucking a pigeon with a lisp.
I have to try this. I grab the hand-carved, fuck-ugly wooden Beethoven bust. I start lightly hitting my ass with it. “PHATT” I yell. “PHATT. PLATT.” I’m so sexy holy shit. “SUTT. PLATT.” I’m such a dreamboat. “WHINY SOUND. WHINY SOUND. PLATT.”
It’s in moments like these when I like to remind my family that I have two university degrees and so technically I’m the most educated one in the house.
“PHUTT PHUTT.”
They all fucking hate me so much.
I made a Ko-Fi page! And a Patreon! At this point, might as well.
Don’t get me wrong, there’s a certain hedonistic pleasure in wallowing in own’s self-pity at a professional level? But there’s a point when one has to face the facts: I’m not currently starving or anything, I can probably go by, but I hate being a leech to my family at a financial level, and not just purely at an emotional one.
But as a handsome tiny Spaniard with a sexy chocolate accent and a predisposition for dick jokes, there ain’t much I can do. Some interesting gentlemen from Pennsylvania tell me they’re willing to pay rather juicy sums in exchange for pictures of my feet? But, y’know. I want to marry in white.
So yeah, Ko-Fi and Patreon pages are up. If you feel like supporting me or you have 3 bucks out there that you can spare, it’d be really appreciated. It means a lot at a purely emotional level—‘holy shit do people actually like me, that’s a new one’—but also lets me go out and buy myself some more tea for when I write at like 4am.
It’s a bit awkward to joke about this, because let’s be honest—I’m very awkward about these things. So visit the pages (Ko-Fi, for the people who don’t know it, is more like a ‘tip’ sorta thing; you just throw some coins at my face and hope you hit the eye) and consider it.
Whether you feel like donating or not, thanks for your time, anyway. It genuinely means a lot. To know people wilfully read stories about me smacking my own ass with a hand-carved, fuck-ugly wooden Beethoven bust really helps me face every day with a smile rather than a sexy frown.
I’m not fucking shitting you, these are the actual names of the things a man can do during sexual intercourse, apparently:
- Pushing forward
- Shake
- Open
- Rub
- Press
- THE HOG’S STRIKE
- THE BULL’S STRIKE
- THE SPARROW’S HUNT
However, women do THIS:
- The claws
- The peg-top
- The swing
I’m not going to lie—if Actual Professional Sex looks like a dude doing what I can only assume are Power Ranger Kung Fu poses while a woman does crab claws and gives the dude an Indian burn in his dick with her twirling vagina, I am really regretting not being into clop.
No but seriously what the fuck is a hog’s strike. I hope it has something to do with the Phatt sound.
Illya Léonov made a full-cast reading of Evil is Easy, Governing is Harder.
When I say full-cast, I mean full-cast. Scribbler plays Luna, IMShadow007 plays Celestia, Cloud 9 plays Daring Do, and so on so forth. It’s like two hours of actual actors reading out the fucking thing and giving it, like, feeling and shit.
Which is pretty wild! I’ve had readings before, but never to this scope and with this level of quality. I have one fucking OC character with any kind of importance in my entire story catalog and it almost immediately got a canon voice and an actress doing her lines—this is like giving birth to a kid and discovering it’s made of gold.
All this to say, there is no joke here, I’m just showing off. This is what I do nowadays whenever one of my friends gets too full of themselves, to ground them up a bit.
“Oh, yeah?” I say. “Well, I got a full-cast reading of Evil is Easy! It’s over two hours long!”
To which they reply wait, so you’re telling me that the most high-quality thing ever done with an idea of yours wasn’t actually done by you? To which I reply wait hold on fuck that’s technically true what the f—
Are you Russian? Chances are you are not. I don’t care!
So at the start of the year I got notice that one of my stories, A Hell of a Time, was gonna be included in a book anthology thing, done in Russian. They asked for my permission—really cool on their part!—and asked for an exclusive foreword by me to add to the anthology. Sort of as an extra for whoever wanted to buy the book?
So I said yes! Absolutely! That sounds cool and also not really like something that requires effort on my part, and baby, I’m all for doing easy shit. Just ask your mom.
And recently I got a word back. Wouldn’t you fucking know.
It actually looks pretty damn fucking tight!
So yeah, I’ll get a copy soon enough, but it’ll be in Russian, so fuck me if I’ll be able to understand shit, and my family won’t get it either because it’s covered in pony stuff. But I don’t care! I’ll show it off anyway. Expect pictures when it arrives, y’all.
It’s exactly 1:39 AM as I finish this blog. My sister is off to sleep. My mother has come to visit, and she’s still awake, watching the TV in the living room.
She entered just as I was paging the Kama Sutra and writing that thing about getting an Indian burn from a twirly vagina.
“Son?”
“Oh, hey, Mom. You going to sleep now?”
“Yeah, just wanted to say goodnight. Uh.” I can see her frowning. “What are you reading?”
I show her.
“…Why are you reading that?”
“It’s funny!”
There’s a pause as my mother seems to try to parse this. Then, she looks to the side, past my hand-carved, fuck-ugly wooden Beethoven bust. Her frown deepens.
“Is that a dick on your wall?” she asks.
“Wait hold on is that a French dick on your wall.”
“It is!” I say. “It absolutely is.”
“Why do you have a French dick on your wall.” Squint. “Is that a pony right next to it?”
“Yeah! I got that keychain in Baltimore. And the dick was painted by Joan Miró!” I point at it. “The famous Catalan surrealist? I went to his museum. It was literally all dicks.”
“And you got one on your wall.”
“I like surrealism!”
“Right.” My mother nods. “And… Why is it in French, if he’s Catalan?”
Pause.
I look at my mother. “I have no fucking idea.”
And she sighs. “And you put a pony right next to it,” she mutters. “Son, seriously. Either get a job, or get a girlfriend, but you can’t go on like this.”
“Sis proposed I go kill myself.”
“I don’t blame her.”
You make me jealous with how much weirder your life is than mine.
I am now deeply concerned that one day you'll be cornered in an alley and you'll try to use the Sparrrow's Hunt on the mugger.
In any case, best of luck with the job hunt, and congrats on all the cool things.
Go to bed, Aragon.
I have a perfectly good dick you could put on your wall next to Miró’s.
And everyone who has seen it agrees that it’s a work of art.
The fuck do you need slippers when it doesn't go below 40s by you. :|
Shit like this is why I keep coming back. :D
Edits after reading this aloud to a friend:
By whose hands was the bust carved?
Not gonna lie, I would totally dig an entire hardbound anthology of ponyfic in Russian. I don't read more than a few words of it, but that would be baller. :D
Would not be able to keep to my promise of reviewing it, however. :B
Words fail me.
I have sympathy, by the by, I was long-term unemployed (I finished my engineering degree in 2001, just before all the companies topped hiring). The only reason I'm not now is because I turned my 3D printing hobby into my day job, which earns me a bit paff-all, really, but allows me to get working tax credit (so I'm not quite poorer than most youtubers - though I do have the advantage of living with my parents and a good chunk of my rent is doing the housework (Mum's diabled) and doing some household jobs for for my grandmother (who's 92. And, just in time for Christmas, we discovered that the leg infection she has had for the last couple of weeks is, in fact, somehow a broken ankle, today... Woo.)
I'm rambling, aren't I? I do that, especially when it's late (I REALLY wanted to ge my game of Stellaris finished, and having to go back 15 years didn't help matters...) I better go before my insane drivellings get even more nonsensical...
4982061
Implying Aragon won't immediately go for the peg-top. That's how you show a potential mugger you mean business.
It's like... you just take the written word and make it your bitch.
WHINNY SOUND.
Is this a Spanish expression, or a normal one and I just completely missed something obvious again.
4982072
4982061
Mr Numbers canonically took out a mugger using an actual karate kick and we're all wondering what sex move Aragorn will use on his.
Not judging, just needed to point this out.
2 things.
1) prostitution is legal here in Nevada, we will save you a spot.
2) camel-sutra, would be a good horse word.
I was momentarily terrified by Beethoven there popping up in my feed.
Then I found out what you used it for.
Best blog I've read so far. This might be the closer this year needs.
I hope things turn up in your job hunt. Also, congrats on your fic being in Russian!
4982091
Aragon using a sex move is like that canonical karate kick:
Confusing, ending in someone lying in crippling pain, it could never have happened on purpose, and everyone involved will be mildly traumatized.
4982090
I assume it comes from white wedding dresses being a symbol of virginity. Guess Aragón somehow managed to keep his intact during Bronycon.
I think the implication here was you were going to have to embezzle the rest of your salary, or something.
Also: get a job and/or girlfriend, Aragon.
4982083
Exactly. I get that the source work meant 'whiny', as in making a whine upon being spanked.
But those of us into frisky ponies would clearly prefer 'whinny'.
Technically, you could spank Rarity and enjoy both at once.
PHUTT. That is all
Well, at least you'll have the theory down when you get a girlfriend. So, uh, good luck with that?
4982259
I wonder if we should be worried about the poor soul getting drafted into Aragon's shenanigans.
reading this is a trip and idk if it's good or not
I think this blog post has the highest density of "wait, what?" of anything I've read for several months.
So... congratulations, I guess.
Also I guess I'll be listening to that Evil is Easy reading on my cycle rides to work next month. Many congrats on that - that's awesome.
it's always a mystery exactly how much you edit the interactions between yourself and your immediately family! truly frightening!
(on that note, i don't know what your sister's talking about. everyone knows you became a my little pony fanfiction writer for the HEAPS of pussy it gets you.)
also god, i wish that book was in english. i may not have much money left but a physical copy of an aragon story is something i'd shell out for, no questions asked
You live such an interesting life, Aragon. Have you ever considered the possibility that our world may be fictional, and that you're actually the protagonist of some sort of madcap comedy movie or TV series? Because given the evidence, I think that could be the case.
> Complaining about living on the Mediterranean Spanish coast
Decadent asshole status:
i.ytimg.com/vi/FULyN9Ai-A0/maxresdefault.jpg