The Pig’s Arms welcomes Miss Nom de Plume
Am I in your arms – at least in your imagination?
Are your fingers undoing my buttons as your lips caress my neck?
Can you feel my hands under your shirt – caressing your body as they travel downward?
Can you feel me stiffen under your touch as you remove the final barriers?
Can you hear me groan as our bodies become one?
Will the surrounding hills echo S T E P H A N I E?
Well, will they?
Window Dresser's Arms, Pig & Whistle 
To think I travelled from Queensland on the Red Eye to the Red Dust of the Red Centre to red… I mean read … this tremulously redition of … give me the iron (how long does it take a bloke to finish doing the IRONING! It’s the sort of thing a single girl can’t know.)
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That groaning as “our bodies become one” thing; is that like Jeff Goldblum in that Cronenberg remake of “The Fly”?
Are STEPHANIE and Ms. dePlume about to be reconfigured into one existence? Does “Am I in your arms-at least in your imagination” suggest some kind of combination human being with a kind of gestalt consciousness?
As for this bizare notion of hands spontaneously erupting under one’s shirt only to scurry to the cover of one’s pants; that seems most odd to me and not a little frightening. I think I’d stiffen too.
No, I’m convinced that if the surrounding hills echoed anything it would be “Aaaaarrgghhh!”
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Dear Ms. dePlume,
The short answer is, “no they will not echo STEPHANIE!” Who is Stephanie anyway?
But it does occur to me that you might have a big future working for one of those 1900 numbers. You’d have to “porn” it up a bit, but I’m sure that’s not beyond you.
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Thanks for the career advice. Whatever happened to romance!
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This is modern romance; fast, convenient, anonymous and scarifying.
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No, you’re not in my arms.
No, you can keep your bloody shirt on.
You can keep your nimble fingers away from my lingerie.
Yes, I am stiffening, but only because the news is on and there’s been an earthquake in Outer West Black-Stump.
Yes, I’m groaning because my sciatica is playing up.
No, but the kitchen walls will echo, “G E T O N W I T H T H E W A S H I N G U P!
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Stephanie, I had a quick read at SMH at the coffee shop today; some Iranian cleric is blaming the scantily clad females for the many earthquakes of late…
Glad to hear you are not one of those naughty ladies causing our earth to tremble, never mind the trembling of mere males…
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You know what they’re like, H?
Undoing buttons, caressing one’s neck with ‘a thousand butterfly kisses”.
The clerical man is probably right. Too much sex, and not enough washing up.
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Hey Steffie, just put your ‘little’ hands in the sink and start washing the dishes. Take the advice of the good Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh; when washing dishes, wash dishes…
A good meditation and takes your mind of ‘butterfly kisses’, love and other silly things…(the last bit I’m quoting Oliver, my son’s friend when only nine years old)!
On the other hand, when the earth quakes happen, it doesn’t really matter if the dishes are clean or dirty…
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Aint that the truth, Helvi! Love makes ‘silly things’ of us all.
And although Stephanie of the comments section is an imposter I’m sure clean dishes are not really her idea of nirvana.
Come on Stephanie, admit it. You’d forgo doing the dishes for some butterfly kisses, wouldn’t you?
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Oh, I suppose we’re all prone (or, is it supine?) to a little love!
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Mrs M reckons a man doing the ironing is far sexier than any number of butterfly kisses, or any amount of fiddling with lingerie.
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This was taken last week at a party and shows one of the rare occasions that I smile. I am trying to keep my icon updated but I don’t know the answer to your question as the gravtar at times has a mind of its own.
H didn’t like the last one and my first one was over 5 years old. By the way is that you under the hat?
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Pardon?
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Hung, how come sometimes we get a new (and IMHO) more attractive Gravatar, and sometimes this one ?
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Emmjay, I take it you don’t like this one?
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I would prefer that you take it that the other one shows you in a very positive, warm and life-affirming mood. But hey, Hung, who am I to look askance at an obvious Adonis ?
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Oh, it’s a gravatar.
I thought he’d changed heads.
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Is this one better boss?
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No, it’s the same one as before. Same.
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