tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62807652024-08-29T01:03:15.647+01:00Diary of a sex fiendthegirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02693447808874926257noreply@blogger.comBlogger646125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280765.post-84605364377948937812018-01-01T23:59:00.001+00:002018-01-02T13:55:53.816+00:00

It's the 14th anniversary of this blog, so here's my annual navel-gazing post marking the day.I don’t believe in new year’s resolutions. People set themselves all kinds of unrealistic challenges beginning January 1st, mostly about lifestyles or diets or exercise, and so little of this is sustainable or achievable (or even, a good thing to do…). I also don’t partake in the annual ‘This is what I

thegirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02693447808874926257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280765.post-28153770133638031822017-01-01T23:30:00.000+00:002017-01-02T00:38:47.846+00:00

It's that time again. That stupid bloody day where everyone's talking about turning over a new leaf, and how they have great plans and resolutions for the upcoming year, and it's annoyingly also the same day as this blog's origin date. Happy blog birthday to me. 13 years: blimey. I posted something on Twitter just now, about how I feel wordless, that I have nothing to say about this anniversary,

thegirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02693447808874926257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280765.post-14984468594646499412016-12-22T22:41:00.003+00:002016-12-22T22:58:35.673+00:00

Ten years ago today, I joined Twitter. When I signed up, on December 22nd 2006, my life was a roller coaster. It was just a few months after the Sunday Times outed me as the author of Girl with a One Track Mind, and it's fair to say I was still traumatised. I'd become mistrusting of everyone in my life (because I didn't know how the press found out my identity - I still don't) and I had hidden

thegirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02693447808874926257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280765.post-34727067327554782382016-09-06T14:36:00.000+01:002016-09-06T14:38:17.236+01:00

I'm running a 10k race this evening and am stupidly nervous - to the point of feeling like vomiting. This is not because I've haven’t done this distance before - I've run three 10k races in the last year - but because I'm so scared of failing and being disappointed. My body is shaking with nerves.When I ran this same race a year ago, I achieved my personal best time and was very proud of my

thegirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02693447808874926257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280765.post-26071716891661668032016-08-08T23:11:00.000+01:002016-08-08T23:11:43.924+01:00

Yesterday, I ran nine miles - two and a half miles further than I’d ever run. Nine miles non-stop. And I ran around Regents Park for an hour and 45 minutes wearing just a pair of shorts and my sports bra.Me, in a sports bra. No vest. No big baggy top to hide under. With my H-cup boobs. Running with my wobbly belly jiggling about, on display to the world. Who would have thought it? Not me.I was

thegirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02693447808874926257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280765.post-57804825986624577972016-07-30T23:37:00.000+01:002016-07-30T23:38:59.553+01:00

Today marks four years since I asked someone to marry me. It was such a huge moment in my life, possibly the most exciting and terrifying thing I have ever done.We’d arrived in New York a few days prior. He’d never visited the city; for me, on the other hand, I called it my second home: somewhere I’d been visiting since I was a baby; my first true love. What better place to take him to, then,

thegirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02693447808874926257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280765.post-17730395077343866502016-06-28T22:23:00.001+01:002016-06-28T22:29:07.297+01:00

This body. This body tells a story; it has its own narrative, distinct from the chaotic thoughts in my head. It finds its own way, journeys separate to the me I am conscious of, and sets its own pace. No panic or anxiety for this body: it is steady, firm, unwavering. This body is not young, nor sprightly. It doesn’t move with ease; often it creaks and strains and is ungainly. It doesn’t bounce

thegirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02693447808874926257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280765.post-38473618707082766492016-01-01T20:46:00.000+00:002016-01-01T20:46:53.683+00:00

I wish I hadn’t created my blog with a start date of January 1st 2004. I first had the idea of writing an anonymous blog about my sex life back in October 2003, and for some reason - most likely because I am weirdly anal (I mean that in the pedantic, not sexual sense, obv.) - I felt that beginning at the start of the year would be most fitting for a first entry of a sex blog, so I waited a few

thegirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02693447808874926257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280765.post-26978070911568946792015-06-01T22:22:00.000+01:002015-06-01T22:30:57.480+01:00

SYNTAX I want to call you thou, the soundof the shape of the startof a kiss – like this, thou -and to say, after, I love,thou, I love, thou I love, notI love you.Because I so do –  as we say now – I want to saythee, I adore, I adore thee, and to know in my lipsthe syntax of love resides,and to gaze in thine eyes.Love’s language starts, stops, starts;the right words flowing or clotting in the

thegirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02693447808874926257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280765.post-52858348848466577712015-05-27T23:13:00.000+01:002015-05-27T23:15:21.029+01:00

I used to be very cynical when I read how depression could be improved through exercise. So many writers of articles seem to claim that they have magically and instantly overcome their depression simply by exercising; their underlying (and sometimes blatant) smugness is incredibly off-putting. It’s especially frustrating to read if, like many people, one leads an active life and still suffers

thegirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02693447808874926257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280765.post-51628755243077955832015-01-01T21:00:00.002+00:002015-01-01T21:04:06.844+00:00

I realise that posting this on here today now just marks an annual event, not another of what used to be my daily writings, and I do feel sad about that. I miss having this as a regular outlet for my thoughts - it was so cathartic for me - and it's a shame I can't write as openly or often on here the way I once did. However, I'm not going to wallow in self-pity about that; I might post here more

thegirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02693447808874926257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280765.post-43526159853935444162014-01-01T20:32:00.003+00:002014-01-01T20:47:34.524+00:00

Ten years ago today, I posted my inaugural entry on this blog. It makes me feel quite old and very nostalgic to be looking back to then; a lot has changed in my life since that initial moment I pressed ‘publish’. I remember being filled with excitement when I did. Finally, I had a platform all of my own, a soapbox on which I could say what I wanted without fear of judgement. Because my

thegirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02693447808874926257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280765.post-46260130143408061822013-11-27T14:05:00.004+00:002013-11-27T14:05:57.038+00:00

I wrote a post for BuzzFeed, critiquing the utterly stupid sex advice found in men's magazines. (Obviously, the sex advice in women's magazines is just as awful.) It's so annoying to see this shit spouted on such a regular basis; whatever happened to just: be nice, be honest, be yourself? The piece is here.

thegirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02693447808874926257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280765.post-24005984907751178782013-10-28T15:27:00.005+00:002013-10-28T15:27:59.726+00:00

As many readers will know, before I wrote books, or even this blog, I worked in the film industry; I spent many years working as a runner and assistant director. Before that, however, I was an aspiring writer-director, and worked on my own films (shorts) both prior to, and after, attending film school. It was during this time that I met the British director Antonia Bird, who'd been my idol for

thegirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02693447808874926257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280765.post-72387425292128051512013-09-03T18:23:00.001+01:002013-09-03T18:24:33.316+01:00

I was annoyed by the Tories paying lip service to the Telegraph's campaign for better sex ed, so I wrote a piece for the New Statesman about it. /rant

thegirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02693447808874926257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280765.post-77910776914538559562012-11-23T00:00:00.001+00:002012-11-23T00:05:15.773+00:00

Sex Appeal is back! Bigger, harder, longer, funnier. Come!

thegirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02693447808874926257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280765.post-16615703794373943182012-09-06T12:21:00.001+01:002012-09-06T12:21:49.740+01:00

I'm very proud of this talk I gave at The Lost Lectures in May 2012 about sexism of erotic book covers. I even managed to squeeze in feminist issues alongside challenging the hypocrisy of the publishing industry - which is nice. Not to mention talk of cock, obviously: we all need more of that. Enjoy. Credit to Erotica Cover Watch for their inspiration for my talk.

thegirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02693447808874926257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280765.post-72216745953589183972012-08-23T22:09:00.000+01:002012-08-23T22:29:25.923+01:00

I am very pleased to announce that Girl with a One Track Mind is now available here as an eBook; you can instantly download it to your Kindle, iPad, or other e-reading device. To those people unfamiliar with the book, or this blog, I want to warn you not to expect fluffy sex, like Fifty Shades of Grey; it's more about the Bully Wank. And, unlike that fictional trilogy, my book is a memoir

thegirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02693447808874926257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280765.post-76801141716005545362011-11-16T23:40:00.001+00:002011-11-16T23:53:55.303+00:00

I've been very busy over the last few months and I'm proud to finally announce what I've been working on: Sex Appeal - a fund raising comedy night taking place in January at London's Bloomsbury Theatre, on behalf of the young people's sexual health charity Brook.Regular readers will know that I'm an ambassador for Brook, and that I am passionate about the wonderful work that they do. So it gives

thegirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02693447808874926257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280765.post-64026260789006506692011-11-07T23:25:00.006+00:002011-11-08T09:45:59.782+00:00

Earlier today, I asked for recommendations of female comedians to follow/go and see live. The lovely people of Twitter did not disappoint; here is (in no particular order, but I have eliminated any non-UK based ones, sorry) the full list of recommendations from almost a hundred people:Jen BristerAndi OshoSarah MillicanShappi KhorsandiHelen ArneyJoanna NearyMiranda HartSusan CalmanJosie

thegirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02693447808874926257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280765.post-9761435671942904122011-06-17T16:48:00.001+01:002011-06-17T16:54:16.901+01:00

I've often wanted to write a homage to Diamond Geezer's wonderful Single Life posts, but his succinct descriptions of single vs. coupled life are far better than I could ever come up with.But I've been thinking about this quite a lot recently, and here are some I'd like to share:Single: You can have sex with whoever you want, whenever you want.Coupled: You have the best, most intimate, sex ever

thegirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02693447808874926257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280765.post-64781124196500356072011-06-08T17:18:00.002+01:002011-06-08T17:24:36.636+01:00

It's not about 'reclaiming' the word slut; it's about opposing victim-blaming and challenging the sexist double-standards with regards to sexuality.I'll be there on Saturday to make my voice heard, I hope you will too.

thegirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02693447808874926257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280765.post-85049695956118077732010-05-20T17:49:00.001+01:002010-05-20T17:58:18.977+01:00

PRESS RELEASEZOE MARGOLIS VS. THE INDEPENDENT ON SUNDAYOn 7th March 2010, The Independent on Sunday newspaper seriously defamed Ms. Margolis by referring to her as a “hooker” in the title of an article that she wrote for them, published in both the paper and online editions.The resulting effect of this libel was immeasurable, and Ms. Margolis was forced to issue legal proceedings against

thegirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02693447808874926257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280765.post-72857899478862690352010-04-16T14:14:00.000+01:002010-04-16T14:14:18.441+01:00

Dear Men,Yes you. All of you. We need to talk.Allow me to bring something to your attention, if I may. That being the problem of how you sit. Everywhere you are, you always seem to sit in the same way: with your legs spread widely apart; whether on the tube, in an office, or in that coffee shop in Soho last week, where you distracted me from my writing a post on my blog.Here’s the thing: unless

thegirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02693447808874926257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280765.post-9461280453177304582010-04-15T16:02:00.000+01:002010-04-15T16:03:41.766+01:00