On this day I complete my twenty-eight year

i. It is my birthday, and I am now twenty-eight. You may begin to shower me with presents. *poses dramatically*

ii. It is also the International Women's Day, so if you are a woman, shower yourself with presents also. And chocolate, and wine, and porn, and whatever else you might like.

Now, in other news...

iii. I've been watching Battlestar Galactica recently. My thoughts on it may be summarised as follows:

Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray! RAY!

Ahem. Also, Starbuck is very cool, and Lee Adama's manpain is midly amusing. Chief Tyrol reminds me a bit of Rodney. :)

iv. I've been thinking a lot about body parts, and something fleshdress said about my writing. I like to write about body parts, because it's easier - an elbow or a hipbone or a mouth is easier to describe than a whole body, and more easily effective as well, since a whole body is more difficult to take in for the reader/viewer. One feels desire for a whole body, sure (or a whole person, even), but an obsession over a body part? Is more easily intelligible and unsentimental ("I love you, the whole of you, no, really!), not to mention allows for much potential kinkiness. Which, of course, is what writing erotica is all about.

And so I like to write about body parts. And often, I come up with an interesting body part (don't ask how), and begin thinking about who to give it to, and who to have accidentally glimpse it and develop a sweaty-handed obsession over it. Some body parts seem obviously destined for certain characters.

A tiny mole just above the arse, barely visible in extreme conditions (a hastily draped towel in the communal showers), must surely belong to Colonel John Sheppard. Don't you think so? Wouldn't you like to think so? Can you not just see it?

There might be porn later. *g*