I Heart NY

Is New York’s heart as big as its powerfulness?
Walking down 5th Avenue, a girl calculates with rigour where to step. It’s Carrie all over again.
The sun is mightier here, as if sharing some of the power that inundates the streets.
It dictated the colour of the cabs, it ruled the choice of outfit.
It’s summer in Central Park, hormones are aplenty.
Maybe it’s time I declare my love. Opening the window, I whisper I love you.

A day is never the same in New York… after returning from there recently, I realised how much the city is really a state of mind, and not a place. In any of the streets, you can be the city, incorporating everything the city is about: cosmopolitan, sexy, driven, bold and proud.
Here’s my homage to that beautiful metropolis.
In every cocktail, there is a zest of life that penetrates my veins and lifts me up.

Come again? - 7

TransEuropa

Watching this year’s Eurovision Song Contest, I couldn’t help but wonder, how much sex is before our eyes in each and every act. Somehow, anyone judging the quality of the melody or the perfection of the choreography will not separate the sexual connotation that emanates act after act.
Historically a contest of long dresses, boring hairdos and mixed rhythms, cheeky became sexy which in turn became explicit.
I will explain with some of this year’s entries…

Take Spain, for example. The four-piece boy band D’Nash, minced around the stage, jumping up and down, slowly releasing their shirts to unravel some toned flesh. Erotic, visual and easy. Their deep look into the camera was the icing on the cake. Hand me a cigarette…

After Dana International’s victory in 1998, the contest has become somewhat a polysexual rendezvous, where grannies, daddies and trannies take to the stage and fly the flag of their country. Unfortunately, every year there are at least 3 countries taking their chances by repeating what others have done. Three costume change, wigs, fans, fireworks, you name it. I am glad no one has remembered to bring animals on stage.
This year was rich in cross-dressing acts, like Ukraine and Denmark. Sweden brought us the hybrid category: cross-dressing executive a la Eddie Izzard. It’s Transeurope before our eyes, indeed…

And finally you have the beauty of the female form. Just like in a beauty pageant, you see small skirts, tights, sun-kissed glow… and then you have Serbia’s Marija Serifovic. This year’s winning entry, with a well-paced ballad, was not what you would call a “beautiful woman”, but it conquered votes across Europe.

So, how much of the voting is political, and how much is based on sexual attraction to the performers? How much is actually based on musical quality, and how much is random?
One thing is certain, the delight on the eye has outlawed the harmony of the sound… If not, judge for yourself!

The winner, Serbia's Marija Serifovic

Come Again? - 6

What are the three words guaranteed to humiliate men everywhere?

'Hold my purse.'

Anonymous

Identity crisis

He got caught on the last club bust. On the last two there were, actually.

As he was taken out, as the morning papers denouced their fault, I wonder how much of this sick lifestyle is part of what should be my lifestyle?

Drug taking has defined generations. It has served religions. It has survived laws, economic crises, but they were never out of fashion. Or were they?

The last time I checked, drug taking wasn't part of the manual on sexualities.

Sex is just sex, attraction is just attraction.

Then the stupid American teenager on the tv was asked to pick one man out of three to go on a date with. The one with the small dog was gay. "Because gay men all have small dogs.", she exposed, from the top of her "Bloomingdales" wisdom.

When did we become victims of our own trends? When did sex become so entagled with accessory attitudes that we all engage in?

Cut the crap. "You must remember this, a kiss is just a kiss.

A sigh is just a sigh."

Intermezzo

Can we be divided at love?

If you love all things, are you automatically behaving unfaithfully.

In the choice of the one person to love, don't we try loving many others?

I am divided. In opinion and in love.

Ice Cream

Time for tasting something delicious.

And the summertime invites us to new flavours.

For a moment it anestethises my tongue,

waking them up to the sweet.

Come again? - 5

"Sex is like tennis. When you play your inferior, your game suffers."

Eddie Britt, in Desperate Housewives

Lady's not for turning

So I set up this revamped blog.
So I did it with passion and devotion, intending to include my previous work that I used to entertain y’all readers of the old version of Sex Appeals...
So I decided to do something about my annoying laptop, that keept on over heating and had lost its sound, speed and glow, as if affected by Parkinson’s.
So I reinstalled its operating system.
So I had a blonde moment.

I did not save a thing, and all my writings, my photos, my work, my music were absolutely GONE.

I can no longer post any of the Returns. I guess I paid the price of having tried plastic surgery on my pc. Well, at least I’ve got the sound and the speed back, and I shall no longer use it as a mini-heater for the cold nights.

Come again? - 4

"How we are in bed is how we are in life.
I've never met a man who was bad in bed but good at life. "

Samantha, in Sex and The City

Nota de tradução

Eu tento. As pessoas sabem que sim.
Tento várias vezes, mas o resultado continua a ser o mesmo.
Portugal desilude-me. E sem me alongar mais, aqui vai o motivo da minha revolta.

Hoje decidi que iria correr a Meia Maratona de Portugal, a realizar no próximo 16 de Setembro em Lisboa. Quando falei disso a alguns dos meus fellow runners, eles pediram-me o sítio da internet para saber mais detalhes. Pois qual não foi o meu espanto quando ao seleccionar a página em inglês, sai-me esta bela tradução à la portugaise

Welcome the RTP 8th Half Marathon of Portugal and it's EDP Mini Marathon (8Km)
Next 16 of September, will undoubtedly be, a great occasion to run over the largest bridge of Europe.

In Consideration of the personage’s image who has lent the name to the bridge, he, that in other times made so many other discoveries.
To you now to discover, not the maritime new ways, but the road who leads you straight to the Expo’98 Parc.

We really hope that this occasion will be for you a great moment of pleasure and sporting fraternity.

In an absolutely flat course, ideal for all those which wish to improve their performance you will undoubtedly take part in a great race on a large bridge in a large city and with the participation of the greatest champions.

Sport culture and discovery, here are what the RTP Meia Maratona de Portugal proposes to you. ...

Then, even if you did not carry out the performance of which you were expecting for, you always can say: I was there.

See you in Lisbon September 16, 2007.

Por onde começar… tal é o descalabro!
“Run over the largest bridge of Europe”: certo... o único problema é que run over não é o mesmo que run (on). Até têm significados diferentes, os danados... Phrasal verbs, ou a maneira mais fácil de fazer merda em inglês. Running over só significa chocar contra qualquer coisa, atropelar, repetir ou verter... Já me estou a ver a atropelar a própria da ponte, a repeti-la, a chocar contra ela ou dela verter. Lindo!
Não acaba aqui. A gramática é tão má que nem sei por onde começar. “In consideration of the personage’s image”: Hein? Queres o quê?
“He, that in other times made so many discoveries”... Ele, mesmo ele, esse, o tal. Mas de quem estamos a falar mesmo?

E começar uma frase com “to you now to discover”? Só é mesmo menos arrojado que usar “which” a seguir a uma referência a pessoa(s). Tenho uma leve desconfiança que foi o Mourinho quem traduziu isto. Soa a ele, não sei...
Acaba com um final feliz. Parece que a RTP Meia Maratona de Portugal nos vai pedir em casamento (“proposes to you”). Qual medalha, qual carapuça. Um anel de noivado e está feita a festa.
See you in Lisbon... Até lá, ou deverei dizer, Until there!

Suggestion

As I was going through some blogs today, a friend suggested a few names...

What a good surprise, when I found this.

Absolutely addictive!

Easter isn't sexy

There is nothing sexy about Easter.
And I am glad this one is over.
I mean… lamb, and prayers and crosses and eggs? Sounds like a script for a horror movie or a cookery documentary to me, rather than a religious or spiritual celebration. Now bunnies are just corny.
I hate Easter. And everything it represents and comes with it. And not only I dislike it in a conceptual way, the fact is that every year my life gets a bit pear shaped around this time.
This year was no exception. Gladly I managed to season the lamb ok.
I am glad the whole thing is over. I made sure I asked the girl in Waitrose if they still had any Easter eggs. What a joy when she said they were sold out. Don't think I could manage three weeks of half priced Easter eggs all over the place.
I am glad I have buried Easter yet another year. And no, it won’t resuscitate.
Thankfully I was on vodka for the whole 5 days, the perfect anaesthetic for such an event.
Now hand me the ibuprofen. My head hurts.

Up in smoke

Minds in smoke and tears of joy
The suggestion is open and inviting

Begining to explore a new love,
wrapped up in candid dreams and unspoilt pastures

Quando fumas do teu cigarro e eu vejo
Quando travas e sei que doi às vezes
E não te vicia, mas eu sim.

Return - II - 100% Cotton

The way clothes adapt to the curves of my body is sublime.
Cotton more than silk or polyester.
Like a giant pencil that defines me against the big canvas of my life.
No profile though. Never liked my profile.
Garments reflect me from within. In colour and texture.
Different patterns for different areas of my existence.
Skin on velvet for my sadness.
Silk will make me shiver.
No synthectic suffocation!
For the seasons of my life I wrap myself in woolor linnen
But at heart,
I am 100% cotton.
Wash separately.
Do not bleach.
Avoid tumble dry and cold iron.
My wrinkles will not fade anyway.
So, unbutton and tie me up in laces,
and stain these fibres and my memories.
Take me on a catwalk.
We will be fashion.

Come again? - 3

Sunny London

My city was hot today.

Through the window, sunkisses invite me to contemplate the river.

Lazy, as holidays should be.

Temperature rises,

the encouragement to reveal that extra bit of skin.

My hormones reassure me Summer is here, or nigh.

I love London on sunglasses.

Beijar a cruz

It’s that time of the year again.

Come-se o peixa à sexta para aliviar o pecado, e demolha-se a festa em prova de sacrilégio.
Nada que um cabrito e um sino não curem.

Beijar a cruz, - afinal dor e prazer coexistem num gesto.
Tira esse ar de pena, de cinzas e de quaresma.
Ressuscita.

Come again? - 2

"Sex could kill you.
Do you know what the human body goes through when you have sex?
Pupils dilate, arteries constrict, core temperature rises, heart races, blood pressure skyrockets, respiration becomes rapid and shallow, the brain fires bursts of electrical impulses from nowhere to nowhere, and secretions spit out of every gland, and the muscles tense and spasm like you're lifting three times your body weight.
It's violent, it's ugly and it's messy, and if God hadn't made it unbelievably fun, the human race would have died out eons ago."

Dr Allison Cameron, played by Jennifer Morrison in House

Glory Hole

Ultimamente apetece-me estar fechado no meu casulo sem que seja incomodado por ninguém.
É estranho, pois não sou um introvertido por natureza, muito pelo contrário.
Nao é depressão.
Eu nao me prescrevo diagnósticos, mesmo quando eventualmente me poderia sentir tentado, dado o carácter modal daquele.
Quero um isolamento selectivo.
Em que nada perpasse de mim para o exterior, e que pouco me chegue de forma inversa.
Um glory hole que me alimente do pouco que preciso do mundo lá fora.

Come again? - 1

"Easy? You men have no idea what we're dealing with down there.
Teeth placement, and jaw stress, and suction, and gag reflex, and all the while bobbing up and down, moaning and trying to breathe through our noses.
Easy? Honey, they don't call it a job for nothin'!"

Samantha, played by Kim Cattrall, in Sex and The City

Lie to Me

There is something sexy about lying.
No wonder we have a day which is entirely dedicated to it.
Lying is an art... and requires practice, robustness and severe eye control. One slip and you're out...

Surprisingly enough, there is a whole lotta science around lies and its complexities.

In sex, people lie all the time. A faked orgasm, a dishonest "I love you", all for the sake of balance/avoiding disruption?
White lies. Some say they're "ok"... Harmless as they can be, they are paramount to everyone's development. Pinnochio is eternally prescribed to our lives.

"Mentir é feio"
mas é sexy, e necessário por vezes...

Feliz dia das mentiras.
Happy April Fools...

Milk

"I am milk

I am red hot kitchen

I am cool

Cool as the deep blue ocean..."

Garbage

Man

"What makes a man is the ability to stand naked in his own truth."

Anonymous

Beijo-te

Quero a tua saliva na minha.
Traz a tua língua quente e húmida,vou respirar contigo.
Morde-me com força,estes lábios são teus por agora.
Mostra-me a tua arte.
Beija-me por fora
Sente-me por dentro.
A tua alma exposta resgata-me a vontade de viver.
Beija-me sem motivo. Nesta boca que te conhece mas não te procura.
Não me arrependo, porque esta dor sabe à tua.
Sabe a paraísos de hortelã e chuva. Beija mais, sem medos.
Adormece dentro de mim, porque amanhã quero o teu beijo outra vez.

Return - I - Woman

De vez em quando a vida torna-se uma incógnita.
O tempo perde a lógica e não sabemos qual é a nossa natureza.
Não me lembro quando era jovem, não consigo explicar por que a minha vida progride desta forma.
Dentro, existem várias pessoas.
Sou cego e surdo em territórios de mim.
Procuro uma identidade escondida que não se pode descobrir.
Mais uma vez choro.
A futilidade não me alimenta, mas sacia-me o espírito, e enriquece-me desta luz.
Mais um toque de maquilhagem e sou outra pessoa.
Não me ofereçam flores, mas falem-me da terra que as nutriu.
Um solo que me dá corpo e me conecta contigo.
Dentro do teu olhar, permaneço numa paleta de cores.
Sou eu.
Sempre estive aqui.
Mas só vemos o que queremos. Só lutamos pelo inatingível.
Dentro de mim há esperança.Há um dia melhor, uma fome de justiça e igualdade.
Há uma luta de valores, uma falha de energias.
Nas mãos tenho o testemunho da descoberta.
A chave de um destino secreto.
Sou feito de outras pessoas.
Quem sou eu se não te tenho aqui?
Sou conciso, abstracto e meticuloso.
Sou concreto, metódico e articulado.
Sou toda a gente mas não sou ninguém.
Sou a mulher que dá à luz a lágrima dos que sorriem.
O género, o tempo e o espaço reunidos neste corpo de céu.

Return

A pedido de muitas famílias, estou de volta. De cara lavada.
Já me fazia falta, to be honest.
Vou incluindo uns textozinhos do passado, que espero que gostem.
Começo com o Woman, que em tempos abria um blog do mesmo nome.
Tempos frutíferos, de facto. E quando revisito os meus textos sinto-me em casa outra vez, como se nunca tivesse saído.
Convido todos a comentar, partilhar e aproveitar este meu canto, sempre de forma muito sensual, claro...