The Star of the Porno Downstairs

I was nervous about who might be moving in after the neighbors under me moved. They were quiet.

I listen to hardcore. But I have rules. I listen for only an hour at the level where somebody might hear it, and not before 10am or after 10pm. I also walk barefoot, and lightly.

We have to be reasonable about apartment life. You expect to hear vague rumblings of movement. Maybe you’ll hear people screwing.

People would tell me how they heard neighbors screwing. I never did, until now.

Finally, a month after the great neighbors below me moved, someone moved in. After a week I thought, Gee, he masturbates loudly.

While exercising lying on the floor, I heard his usual loud crying out. I pressed my ear to the floor. Gasp! I heard the woman!

This couple below me fuck almost every day!

And he’s loud for a dude! Usually you just hear the chick. I had a guy once who screamed like he was being murdered. The inflection of his screaming wasn’t sexual where it trails off ecstatically. It was more like a blood curdling scream.

I had to know what this new couple looked like.

But the nerve of this guy coming up to my apartment at 9:30pm on the weekend to complain about my music. It wasn’t that loud, for chrissake.

He knocks on my door. I’m naked and can’t open it.

Yes, I say through the peephole.

I’m your neighbor downstairs.

It’s the “fucking” guy! You need me to turn my music down?

Yeah.

Okay. I’m sorry. Goodnight, I says.

I tried getting a look at him through the peephole. I saw he was wiry. I had missed the opportunity to meet the star of the porno downstairs. Hey – I’ll throw on clothes and go down there – apologize about not opening the door – I’ll say I want to properly introduce myself.

So I knock on his door — and the “fucking” guy – he did what I had done and didn’t open his door.

Hi, just wanted to say I didn’t mean to be rude by not opening the door. I was getting ready to shower before, which is why I couldn’t open the door, I lie.

He tells me through the peep hole, Oh yeah, me too, now.

Uh, okay — have a good night, I says.

The “fucking” guy was probably naked and getting ready to fuck again.

I did meet him in the elevator last week and properly introduced myself. It was great! He wasn’t bad looking.

I think I might’ve finally met his girl too. Yesterday I got on the elevator with a red head. We said hello then she got off on the floor below mine and walked in the direction of the line I’m in – that had to be her!

Now, it’s white noise to me – sort of – I guess – unless I’m having a spell, you know.

I suppose I should “get a life.”

 

 

Art Movie

(Warning:  Adult content.  Also, as Gfb always says, pointless.)

There’s a sensationalistic sound-effect in The Night of the Living Dead that’s louder than the sound of the rest of the movie — the part when the zombie eats the bug off the tree and when the zombies eat the dead people, pulling flesh off of the bone with their teeth.

George Romero amps up the slurpy, chewing sound —  a great grade b horror movie gross-out effect.  He blots out all other sound in the movie and puts emphasis on this.  You hear zombies grind up every bit of bug and chew every sinew in all its juicy goodness.

I thought of something they might have used to make this particular sound.

When I was a teenager – a friend said she heard a man masturbating in the staircase.  I said, “How do you hear someone masturbate?”  She began making rhythmic slurpy chewing sounds with her mouth.  It was hilarious!

Wouldn’t it be rad, a big fat joke on the audience, if I made a zombie movie and had sound effects from an unorthodox source, let’s say like the one my friend talked about and maybe also the female version, or any variation or combination (wink, wink) on that?

We’d have people in the studio masturbating with the mike right there.  In my movie, The Zombies of Sandor, the zombie-eating sound-effects would all be from masturbation and stuff.

It’d be…like an art movie!  The sound effect of somebody getting slapped in the face would actually come from somebody in the studio getting slapped in the face with a penis.

Oh why Sandee couldn’t you just use someone actually chewing into a microphone for the eating sound effect?  Be-cause, I say, just be-cause.

Baaad Bunny

My hateful bunny post the other day was so evil – I had to get on the other side of it.  Carrie also reminded me of needing a balance.  To be whole, one needs balance.  So I thought, Now I’ll write about love.  But what I really want is to write porno.  I haven’t watched porno in ages but I know I could make up something really good.  I’ve never written anything like this before, so it would be an adventure.

I’m just sharing my process, what’s in my head.  Unfortunately I wouldn’t put any porno on my blog.  I don’t have the balls for that.  I know you’re disappointed.  But when I finish writing it, just look for books published under one of these names:  Aysia Marie, Misty Kelly, Harlem Cherry, Angel Black, Shameeka Blue, Tailor Lee Tyler, and Velveeta von Sapen Heusen.  I’m going to be using these pseudonyms.

Have a great weekend and drink responsibly!

The Chronicles of Cake

I’d flip through mom’s Betty Crocker cook book to the page with the devil’s food cake frosted white.  I’d stare, fantasize and drool, like porno. Eventually I helped mom bake, measuring flour, stirring batter.  At ten, I started making cakes by myself.  I loved serving dad cake.  “Mmm mmm!  Sandee, this is good cake,” daddy would say with cake in his mouth.  Cake would get in his beard.  He had full cheeks and his eyes told jokes.  He’d chew, look at me, nod, and clink his fork to the plate until the end.  “Hey, cut me another piece of that cake Sandee.”  Win!

My cakes then were box cakes with Duncan Hines Frosting.  I was meticulous about stirring the batter 300 times – God forbid I should fuck up and stir too many times – I only imagined what manner of wrong this would cause.

I matured and made scratch cakes.  I made this spice cake after work and would eat the whole thing in a night.  It didn’t affect my weight because I smoked a lot, exercised and took stress pills.  I made cakes for boyfriends in heart shaped pans.  I favored lemon cakes with lemon frosting that I made all from scratch.  I made up this cake with coriander in it.  Finding a desk drawer at work stuffed with ketchup, mustard and teriyaki sauce packets I threatened to make a condiment cake.  Jeff, my boss, he liked that, “Condiment cake!  Hee hee hee!”  He said.  I took a ginger molasses cake sprinkled with confectioner’s sugar to my Auntie’s on X-mas.  When it got there the confectioner’s sugar melted but it was still scrumptious.  I bought a fancy cake carrier to take cakes to people’s houses.

It’s been a while since I’ve baked a cake.  But I still eat the shit out of a piece of cake.  I love the thick white frosted cake at work from somebody’s birthday or from a leaving the job party. I bought a piece of black forest cake from the Carrot Top that I ate slowly, with my eyes closed – it was unbelievable!  When Summer Solstice Girl suggested red velvet cake I bought a piece.  I almost died eating it.  I cannot buy a whole cake, or make a cake without having company because I would eat the entire cake no problemo.

As a child, frustrated at having to eat asparagus and lamb with mint jelly for dinner, I dreamed of growing up and eating whatever I wanted.  I think of this now when I eat cake for dinner and it makes me happy.

Outer-Limits Porn

I’m thinking of writing porn.  Everyone’s doing it.  But mine would be “outer-limits” porn.  My movie would have canned goods (But absolutely NO can openers!), Brillo pads, coffee filters, extension cords (naughty, eh?), and the entire cast, except for me, would be ninety years old – excluding my grandmother – how dare you imagine that I would allow my grandma to be in such filth!  You might have guessed that I cooked up (cooked up – ha!) this idea while in my kitchen.

I watched a snippet of Don Juan DeMarco with Johnny Depp, Marlon Brando and Faye Dunaway.  Marlon Brando and Faye Dunaway are old in it and they’re married.  There’s a scene with them in bed.  They kissed.  It got me horny.  That’s right — I think old people are hot — forget y’all!  I was mad they didn’t get butt naked.

I’ve written about my WWII veteran friend who’s one sexy bastid.  He’s eighty-six.  He raps, old school, and he killed bad people.  You can’t touch that.

I respect him too much so he can’t be in my movie even though he’s muy hotto and I know he would blow it up.  I just can’t see pimping him like that.  Plus he’s too young.  But I’ll interview some of his friends and some people from the Hebrew Home for the Aged at Riverdale – that’s where grandma is.  And I know oldsters who visit the gallery where I work.

It’ll be a problem if they don’t want to get naked.  But there won’t be animals in this movie for those of you into that kind of thing – blech!  I’ll keep you posted if I decide to do it or not.  Oh yeah, and no oxygen tanks because I’m using blow torches.

Have Some More Ass Cake

 

I’m not naïve. But why is my ‘Have some of my ass cake’ post popular?  It doesn’t have actual ass in it just pictures of nice cakes.  There isn’t any porno.  One of the popular tags that people follow leading them to my blog is ‘ass’.  I had no idea ass was popular – I thought it was tits people preferred – well maybe I should try a tits post and see how many folks hit that up. And it won’t be about actual titties, it’ll be about the suckling teats of a rhinoceros.  I’m trying to imagine what people think a post called ‘Have some of my ass cake’ is about.  Do they think the ‘cake’ part means I’m saying that my ass is sweet?  Maybe they think it’s sex talk:  ‘Comere baby, gimme some of that ass cake lovin’.  Yeah, you know what I’m here for?  Some of that big ‘ol ass cake, bitch — yer!”