Here we are again, at that special time of the day when I blab what is on my mind to you nice people, and imagine that you are listening to it all.

It has been a sleepy, sunny day for me. Spent most of it asleep with Zopiclone’s kind and gentle assistance, and that was pleasant enough. No big deal waking up feeling all sweaty and dehydrated and discombobulated and incoherent and in pain. Just nice normal waking, which is nice as a novelty but might take me some time to et used to it as a regular thing.

After all feeling like utter crap really puts a special kind of oomph into the start of your day. The kind of oomph, in fact, that represents the sound you make when you are hit directly in the solar plexus with a garment bag full of old coins.

Compared to that dramatic beginning, just waking up and feeling OK seems downright dull. I am so used to aking up being some sort of fight for survival as I drag myself through the mires of sleep to the shores of consciousness that I am not sure I can candle anything less traumatic any more.

Seriously though, Zopiclone has been giving me better quality sleep, and I am quite happy about that. Even now, I feel a nice soft healthy sleepiness making my eyes and my head heavy, and I nod as I type to nice people. After this night’s missive, I will go back to sleep, and hopefully shore up my mental resources a little more,

Or at least, get some good rest for a change.

The cheesy bacon bread that I told you about on Thursday turned out to be uniformly blah. I am guessing that my guesstimations regarding the quantities of bacon and cheese were WAY off. Or, and this is a real possibility, the recipe itself was very bland and blah. I have encountered countess cases, as a sometimes baker, of recipes that are apparently made for people with House of Usher type tastebuds, where tiny amounts of spices and so on produce cuisine just bursting with flavour.

Oh, and of course, the recipe called for a can of green chilies, so it might be that most of the flavour was supposed to come from them, and the cheese and bacon were meant to be a background accompaniment ot the chili flavour, and so by skipping the chilies, I threw the whole thing off.

Or whatever. It’s only bread. I will put on another loaf of something different and some time tonight, and we will see how well that one turns out. Even with its mildness, the bacon and cheese loaf was still pretty decent bread. I am not producing failed loaves any more.

It is just that some of them turn out how I hoped, and some do not. I am still having lots of fun with my bread machine and look forward to adding some more ingredients to my baker’s shelf so I can branch out to making things like ginger bread and carrot cake and so on.

Hmmm. Ginger carrot cake. I bet that would be good. Makes me hungry just thinking about it.

And speaking of thing which make you hungry, check out these extreme naughty iced confections that my friend Phil sent to me yesterday (warning, this pic is VERY MUCH NSFW) :

Can we switch. I wanted the Asian/Banana.

Now there is a visual. Is it wrong that looking at those makes me incredibly hungry> I want one of those right now. I have a feeling that one of those would really hit the spot when you get those deep, hot cravings for something cool and sweet in the summer.

I will stop before I get any more excited.

But still, that pushes my buttons so very well. And I have to wonder where the heck in the world you can buy a dipped (and dicked) cone like that. I am assuming it is either a very well established Pride event, or something even more completely awesome, at the Kanamana Matsure, a festival of the penis held evey year in Japan.

On the first Sunday in April of every year, the Kanayama shrine in Kawasaki in Japan because host to a festival where the phallus, or penis, is revered, and everywhere you go, you see penises carved out candy, wood, vegetables, stone, and who knows, maybe even ice cream,

Just imagine it. Cocks everywhere. I might well lose my mind. And everyone participates, even little children sucking on dick shaped lollipops. Now there is a sight to blow your Western mind.

I sometimes mock Japan for being so messed up, but I have to admit, sometimes they are fucked up in a most wonderful way. I think we give the phallus far too much power by making it this mysterious horrible thing that a grown woman is supposed to shriek at the sight of and avert her eyes, and that we protect our children from the very sight of, even though half of them have one right between their legs.

This convinces boys and men that they have some sort of dark and might god between their legs, when really it is just another part of their bodies and is no more remarkable than they eyebrow or their elbow, although it is, admittedly, a lot more fun to play with.

So I think every town should have a Penis Festival. And, six months to the day later, a Vagina Festival. All this body shame serves no purpose and we would be way ahead of the game if we simply jettisoned all of it and embraced the physical truths of selves, and learned to celebrate our genitals, and then maybe let them take their properly proportionate place in our lives.

So three cheers for penises and vaginas, huh people? They propagate the species, they help us eliminate waste, and you can have a hell of a lot of fun with them besides.

Give your genitals a hug today!