Saturday, December 6, 2008

Mountin' Wimin

Flicked on SBS last night and watched a documentary called "Landmark Sex: Married to the Eiffel Tower" about women who fall in love with objects. Not as in "I love these shoes I got in Melbourne!" but as in "I love my archery bow, I have been in a relationship with him for six years, I have sex with him".
Like you, I had a lot of trouble getting my head around this. Firstly, there was understanding the fact that this wasn't a mockumentary. These were real women. Their most common object of love and desire were buildings. Structures. Bridges, walls, skyscrapers, that kind of thing. They love them. Romantic, sexual, committed love. The desire and passion with which these ladies talked about the Empire State Building, the Berlin Wall and various bridges around the world was identical to that fervor with which young lovers discuss their new paramours.
One lady in particular had fallen in love with a fairground ride called '1001 Nacht'. She went to visit him in the off-season where he was parked in a holding yard and wrapped in a tarp. After embracing various girders around the place, whispering odes of devotion and getting extremely red and bothered gripping the guard rail, she lay underneath 1001 Nacht and slowly, blissfully smeared her face with the thick grease from his joints. When it was time to leave she sobbed like a child being torn away
from its favourite plaything. She was covered in grease. This was the same lady who was asked to move along by a security guard after an extremely long and sensuous embrace with the Empire State Building.
Another woman couldn't help mounting just about every picket fence she saw. She even had a few favourite picket fences in her room. Just short ones, a few pailings long which she would take to bed. And stroke.
I wish I had the imaginative capacity to make this shit up, but sadly, I fall short of the mark there. This was a real documentary. About real people.


This picture is of one of the Objectum Sexuals (as they prefer to be called) during the aptly-named climax to the documentary showing her consumating her relationship with the Eiffel Tower one year after their marriage.
Yes.
Marriage.
She legally married the Eiffel Tower.
And yes.
Consumation.
Yes she hitched her skirts up and mounted a frickin girder on the frickin Eiffel Tower, vag to steel.
I am still not making anything up. I merely took very very close notice of exactly which girder so that whenever I return to The Eiffel Tower, I can say to loved ones "No! Not that girder. Let's get a photo over here instead. In fact, why not Italy instead?"
Or, if I'm there with Captain T, "Hey man, sit right there, I want to take a photo. No, in fact, how about giving the old Tower a kiss eh? It'll be hilarious!"

We were telling 327 and Jimmythins about this documentary tonight and conversation fell, as it does, to fetishes. What were the weirdest kind of fetishes we could think up? (Reader points for weirdest fetish, real or not).
Stobie pole fetish.
Wheelie bin fetish.
Council traffic light fetish.
Can you tell we were walking home at the time?
Brussel sprout fetish: "OOhh! So stinky!"
A fetish for being wrapped in toilet paper.
A fetish for being praised for neat handwriting:
"What do you think of this note that I wrote?"
"Very nice."
"Ooh. Do you like my enlongated loops on the lower-case gs?"
"Pretty good."
"Thank you."
I am proud to announce that I think I've come up with what might be either the weirdest fetish or cleverest prank to bring to a new workplace: a fetish for being ignored. But you tell people about it, be really upfront.
"Hi, how you going? Hey listen man, this might sound a bit weird, but I've kind of got this ... "thing" ... for being ignored. So if you don't always hear what I'm saying first time because I mumble or whatever, don't worry about it too much."
"Huh?"
"Mmm. That's it. Just. Like. That."
And then just walk away and spend the rest of your time quietly
sidling into the back of rooms, looking extremely satisfied until someone notices you, then lose interest and leave. Or just mutter a lot in the next room so that it sounds like you're always asking a question.
"..Mntleyh wondrf thtitle thngexist?"
"What?"
"Uuuuuuuuuhhh yyyyyyyessssss."
"Did you say something?"
"Hm? No, nothing. Don't mind me. Yeah. Seeya later. That's right, just like that, hhhhhhhhoolllyy sshhhhhhittyeah .... "

Tell me that's not hilarious. Picture the looks on your co-workers' faces when you enter a room:
Fuck,
they'll be thinking. It's that fucking guy who gets his jollies from being ignored! "HEEEEYYY!!! Franzy!! Hey man! What's been happening? Tell me about your day! Hey everybody! It's Franzy!"
"Oh! Franzy! Hi! Let me get you a coffee! No no! Stay right there! I'll get it!"
Even better would be when you were actually able to stand behind someone and ask a question in a really, really low voice for a while, and then they finally turn around and notice you.
"AH! How long have you been standing there?"
"Aaaaaaaaaaages ... you didn't ... even .... hear me .... ooooooooooooo ..."

***
GTH - ZING! Point to Ashleigh. The band was there to symbolise the best "I got a job" song of all time: One Bourban, One Scotch, One Beer as played by George Thoroughgood. Which is actually all about George avoiding his bitch of a landlady and blowing all of his cash on booze instead of on the rent he owes her, which he is able to do by telling her that he has a job.
I actually have a job, but I did sing the verse as transcribed for about 48 hours straight after The Phonecall.

21 comments:

  1. OK, it's art. I get the art ones easy. Sculpture by Anish Kapoor in the Gallery of Modern Art, Brisbane. If anyone needs to know why it relates to your post, I'm not gonna be the one to tell 'em.

    ReplyDelete
  2. One of my other fave bloggers, Dave from Stumblor (who has selfishly stopped for the time being) wrote about the same topic here - http://stumblor.blogspot.com/2008/06/hes-tall-silent-type.html

    Maybe these gals are just after blokes who they don't have to worry about playing the game of 'Is he going to call me tomorrow, or not?' or stress about what kind of contraception/safe sex device to use (although rust flakes up the clacker wouldn't be too optimal) and, perhaps most tellingly, not have to put up with sarky remarks?

    GTH - that looks like a tiny inflatable pool with some water in it. As with your stained shirt photo a few blogs ago, surely this isn't an American Pie reference?

    ReplyDelete
  3. Will - Sorry mate, although you're exactly spot on with the "What?" part of Guess The Header, you're leaving yourself wide open to be trumped on "Why?"

    Kath - I don't think you're getting it (and neither is Stumblor). They're not 'choosing' objects over people because of the perceived difficulties inherent in human relationships. They can't help getting horny, falling in love with and talking to these objects! The part I may not have mentioned was that the objects talk back via telepathy! They didn't really miss human contact or relationships because they didn't value them as much as the intense feelings they had for a building - much the same way you or I don't really miss the wonderful, loving feelings we get when we see a particularly well-built picket fence.

    GTH - No American Pie reference - Points go to weirdest fetish!

    ReplyDelete
  4. ...mouse scroll wheel fetish...

    Please comment some more!

    ReplyDelete
  5. TooS - Great. Now no one wants to scroll down past your comment.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Hey Franz, I actually switched on to the same show, and was extremely weirded out, but couldn't turn off as I wanted to see what the next weird fetish was.

    There was Raggity (however it's spelt) Anne, the alter in the church, and of course the buildings (Berlin Wall, bridges, etc).

    THe funny thing was that one woman married the Berlin Wall in the 70's when free love was present. Then the Eiffel Tower woman married it later, and then also married the same bridge. Even the modeling construction to replicate their 'loves/husbands'. She was intimate with her models and replicas.

    The other weird thing was that they gave them a sex. I believe the Eiffel was a woman, which means some form of homosexuality.

    On the topic of weird fetishes - how about bar mixed nut fetishes people trouncing the world for their taste of mixed nut lov'n. Even a urinal block fetish - ok that's gross, probably not weird. Velcro fetish? Compost fetish?

    And GTH for no points: Looks kind of like the donut seat; this is what the woman that made love to the Eiffel Tower would require after consummating the marriage.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Weird fetish? Don't believe I have any. I'm kinda glad I don't know anyone who's in love with buildings and/or stuff.
    GTH:-That's a light bulb reflected in something holding water, looks a bit like a "drop in the bucket" or maybe "the light at the end of the tunnel"?

    ReplyDelete
  8. Shippy - I reckon velco fetish has been alive and well and mainstream for a while know, but urinal block fetish? How would you consummate that one?
    "More ice for your drink?"
    "N ... no thanks ..." *sllllurp*

    River - What's the problem? They seem like perfectly harmless people to me ...
    GTH - If you read Will's shot and my reply, you'll be closer ...

    ReplyDelete
  9. Damn I wish I'd seen that

    About 20% of the traffic to my site is due to something I posted about Kafka's supposed insect crushing fetish

    ReplyDelete
  10. I've discovered that a great way to boost your search hits is to name your posts after loose transcriptions of quotes from movies and songs.
    "Under The Bridge" by the Chili Peppers. Most popular song ever right? Yet STILL people hit this site time and again searching for
    "I can't believe there's no one out there"
    "It's hard to believe there's no people out there"
    and "It's hard to believe that there is no body out there"

    Miles, my Zeitgeistural friend? Is this making you twitch as I do?

    ReplyDelete
  11. ...oh yeah... keep commenting...

    ...all... ...the way... ...down... ...to the bottom...

    Oh! using the cursor keys are you?...

    ...you tease!

    ReplyDelete
  12. No I do get it Franzy, I was just being a bit silly back there. I can't even begin to imagine what it must have felt like for some poor saps to realise that they were Objectisexuals...being classified as a normal hetero is confusing enough!

    But weird fetishes...Hmm, let me see:
    * Toffee apples (nice and portable)
    * Post it notes (ditto)
    * Tennis courts
    * Knitwear (especially Cardigans)
    * Tupperware lids
    * Accountants (the most perplexing of all)

    ....I'm sure I'll think of some more at some inappropriate time like sitting through Sapphire's class play tomorrow!

    ReplyDelete
  13. Perfectly harmless people, yes. But imagine walking down the street chatting away about handbags, chocolate cake and the state of the economy, as you do, when all of a sudden she squeals, throws her hands in the air, "oh my god, there's that fire hydrant, I haven't seen him in yonks, oh I LOVE that fire hydrant, I have to go and say hello", then she rushes madly across the street, completely ignoring oncoming traffic and the squealing of many brakes, throws herself to her knees, kissing and hugging said hydrant, while I just can't help thinking, eewwww, every dog and his cousin probably peed on that thing last night. That's a health hazard AND a traffic hazard.

    ReplyDelete
  14. I don't care if it IS a giant scarlet orifice in the wall of building!

    I think it looks like a giant scroll-wheel.

    ...so it's kind-of the Anna-Nicole Smith of scroll-wheels...

    ...or maybe the result of an overactive scroller-feeder fetish?
    (why has no-one mentioned "Feeders" here already?)

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  15. This comment has been removed by the author.

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  16. TOoS - Sorry mate, I'm using the slider on my mouse touchpad. Intensely erotic as it may be, our porn shall never meet.

    Kath - I don't know, matey. I think I'm handing out points for more detailed explorations ...

    River - ... like this one! Hilariotastic!

    TooS - You could explore the even more bizarre iterations of Feeding, like people who only get off on women whose breath smells like catfood. Or those freaks I've heard of who insist on feeding women, but only in small amounts and then making them go out and do regular exercise ... oh wait ... that's probably everybody.

    MCL - I reckon you might have been on a GTH winner there ... repost?
    (Even when you delete your comments, they still get sent to my inbox)

    ReplyDelete
  17. Repost: Is that a picture of a hemaroid ring? Are you saying you're blessed?

    *ahem* I just didn't want you to get a big .. um .. head.

    (I've only posted smutty comments on your blog lately - what kind of impression am I giving? I am going to be 37 in two days time! I need to act more mature)

    ReplyDelete
  18. MCL - Why would I get a big head over big haemorrhoids?
    Ahh ... because that would be my sick little fantasy ... got it.

    Gross.

    I think maturity is simply another word for "boring" or "didn't get the joke".

    ReplyDelete
  19. *blink* no my thinking was more basic - along the lines of attachments to girders so as to have sex with them and having to use the hemaroid cushion cause the hole was big and ... it's very silly - we should have stayed with the delete I think.

    Fetish: I heard one mentioned on the radio once that has stuck with me. People who like to lick other peoples eyeballs. It would take a lot of self control to let somebody lick your eyeball.

    ReplyDelete
  20. Or your way makes more sense and is related.

    I hear the sadist eyeball lickers eat chillis before attempting to satisfy their lovers.

    ReplyDelete
  21. chillis? out of sight!
    (oh man. and now it is lame attempts at puns. i have no shame)

    ReplyDelete

An explanation of The Joy Division Litmus Test

Although it may now be lost in the mysts of thyme, the poll below is still relevant to this blog. In the winter of 2008, Mele and I went to live in Queensland. In order to survive, I bluffed my way into a job at a Coffee Club.
It was quite a reasonable place to work: the hours were regular, the staff were quite nice, it wasn't particularly taxing on my brain.
There were a few downsides: In the six weeks or so that I worked there, there was about a 90% staff turnover (contributed to by my leaving). This wasn't seen as a result of the low pay, the laughability of staff prices or the practice of not distributing tips to staff, rather it was blamed on the lack of work ethic among Bribie Island's youth.
However, one of the stranger aspects of the cultural isolation that touched our lives during our time "up there" was the fact that nobody at my work had heard of the band Joy Division.
The full explanation is available here.
But please, interact a little further and vote in my ongoing poll. The results are slowly mounting up, proving one thing: people read this blog are more well-informed about Joy Division than anyone who works at the Coffee Club on Bribie Island.

Have you heard of the band Joy Division?

Chinese food, not Chinese Internet!

Champions of Guess The Header

  • What is Guess The Header about? Let’s ask regular “Writing” reader, Shippy: "Anyway, after Franzy's stunning September, and having a crack at 'Guess The Header' for the first time - without truly knowing what I was doing mind you - I think I finally understand what 'GTH' is all about. At first I thought you needed to actually know what it was. Don't get me wrong — if you know what it is, it may help you. I now realise that it's more Franzy's way of invoking thought around an image or, more often than not, part of an image. If you dissect slightly the GTH explanatory sentence at the bottom of his blog you come up with this: “The photo is always taken by me and always connects in some way to the topic of the blog entry it heads up.” When the header is put up, the blog below it will in some obscure way have something to do with it. “Interesting comments are judged and scored arbitrarily and the process is open to corruption and bribery with all correspondence being entered into after the fact and on into eternity, ad infinitum amen.” Franzy judges it, but it's not always the GTH that describes the place perfectly that gets it. “The frequent commenters, the wits, the wags and the outright smartarses who, each entry, engage to both guess the origin and relevance of the strip of photo at the top (or “head”) of each new blog and also who leave what I deem the most interesting comment.” It generally helps if you're a complete smartarse and can twist things to mean whatever you feel they should mean - exactly the way Franzy would like things to be twisted." - Shippy Blogger and GTH point scorer.
  • Nai - 1
  • Lion Kinsman - 2
  • Will - 2
  • Brocky - 2
  • Andy Pants - 2
  • The 327th Male - 3
  • Mad Cat Lady - 3
  • Miles McClagen - 4
  • Myninjacockle - 4
  • Asheligh - 5
  • Neil - 5
  • Third Cat - 5
  • Adam Y - 6
  • Squib - 6
  • Mele - 6
  • Moifey - 7
  • Jono - 8
  • The Other, other Sam - 14
  • Kath Lockett - 15
  • Shippy - 19
  • River - 32