December 12, 2016 §
The building on the corner of Berwick Street and Peter Street I used to see Siberian Olga (and Romanian Lela) in and sit with her on Saturday nights drinking vodka with as she decided which customers to open the door to, is now gone; a new building gone up in its place and occupied by a bike shop, with perhaps some aptness, I don’t know. The building opposite the Red Lion (where Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels were tasked to write the Communist Manifesto at the second Congress of the Communist League in 1847) where I used to see Spanish Ana Maria is now gone, and still remains just a hole in the ground, which may also have some aptness. The Astral Adult Cinema in Brewer Street (the first pornographic cinema I ever went to) is gone. The Carnival Striptease in Old Compton Street (the second strip club I ever went to) is gone. The Boulevard Striptease (third strip club I ever went to) in Brewer’s Court is going next month apparently. Already at my young age I have lost so many of the places where I had my erotic education. As the Soho places closed down, I spread my wings (to use a euphemism) to Europe, and even there my treasured places are mostly gone. Stutti Frutti where I lost my Berlin virginity to Yulia in that black Rennie Mackintosh bedroom with the four poster bed, Mon Cheri where I fell in love/longing with Riccarda in the same claustrophobic room, Golden Gate where I fell in love/longing with Iga, Hanky Panky, Starlight, have all gone. In Vienna, Pour Platin where I lost my Vienna virginity to Maria (still my only Vienna consummation), is gone. In London these places are really over for me. In Berlin and Vienna at least there are still plenty of other places to try.
November 11, 2016 §
For me stripping and sex is just part of art; it fits in with paintings, classical music, theatre, opera, it is just part of the continuum. A great opera singer on a stage in florid and lurid make up, a great stripper on a stage in florid and lurid make up, a great whore opening the door in florid and lurid make up, great oil paintings, lush strings of an orchestra amidst ferns and fronds. It is all the same. And each one reminds me of the other. A perfect day would combine all of them together.
November 11, 2016 §
“The horror of my virginity Delights me,” cried Jerram, as the blonde girl with the most voluptuous huge arse barely constrained by a tiny red pair of knickers shook her booty in his face, “and I would envelope me In the terror of my tresses, that, by night, Inviolate reptile, I might feel the white And glimmering radiance of thy frozen fire, Thou art chaste and diest of desire, White night of ice and of the cruel snow!”