Japanese women climax to death

This is one disease I think I wouldn't mind catching!

The really sad thing is that this "disease" strikes mostly women in their 40s and 50s....

Growing numbers of Japanese women are afflicted with an illness that gives them orgasms virtually 24 hours a day. And with suggestions that it could be deadly, the women hardly know whether they're coming or going, according to Shukan Post (11/24).

"If a guy simply taps me on the shoulder, I just swoon. Even when I go to the toilet, my body reacts. I'm a little bit scared of myself," one woman sufferer tells Shukan Post.

Another adds: "When I got on the train one day, I could feel blood gushing toward a certain part of my body and it felt so good I almost let out a moan. It was sheer murder when everybody got pushed into the carriage."

Yet another woman has her say.

"Even the vibration of my mobile phone is enough to set me off," she says. "My friend said there's something called Iku Iku byo (Cum Cum Disease). I guess I've got that."

What may be afflicting these women, the best-selling weekly says, is an ailment called persistent sexual arousal syndrome (PSAS).

PSAS has been described as an affliction that brings about orgasm through the slightest of jolts regardless of whether they're aroused, or even thinking about sex. What's more, orgasms experienced by PSAS sufferers are not just momentary phenomena, instead affecting women over anywhere from a few days to a week, with one reported case seeing 300 orgasms in a single day.

Awareness in Japan of PSAS -- which was first documented by Dr. Sandra Leiblum in the United States five years ago -- is growing, especially in the blogsphere, where it is being called Iku Iku byo.

Hideo Yamanaka, a doctor at the Toranomon Hibiya Clinic in Tokyo says the disease can be debilitating.

"For women to orgasm, they need to have some sort of sexual stimulation. There are nerves around the female genitals which react to sexual stimulation. The body gradually builds up to a crescendo, that ascends to a climax," the doctor tells Shukan Post. "However, with this disease, women are mysteriously reaching climax without any external sexual stimulation at all. One possible cause that I can think of is an irregularity in the sensory nerves."

PSAS discover Leiblum says that the disease has a tendency to strike post-menopausal women in their 40s and 50s or those who've undergone hormonal treatment. But she adds that there have also been cases reported among women in their 30s, stressing that too little is known about the syndrome to pinpoint anything and adds that the nature of the ailment means that many sufferers may be too ashamed to report it.

PSAS numbers in the U.S. are high enough for support groups to have popped up, suggesting it won't be too long before Japan sees the same.

50 Mistakes women make in bed

Jane Fonda shape-up frenzy was short-lived. I can't believe people actually did that shit. And I couldn't find my leg warmers and leotard in any case...

Meanwhile,

Here’s one straight-talking woman who’s not afraid to call it like it is…

Some sissy psychiatrist put together a whiny list called “50 mistakes MEN make in bed”. Irate readers posted comments like

“this was written by a virgin”

“The writer has obviously never truly had a free and satisfying sexual relationship. God forbid that any guy read this and attempt this crap.”

“Number 19 actually made me laugh. How many times has asking permission ruined the mood? If your answer was "none" then you're a virgin.”

“The title to this piece is misleading. It should've read: "Fifty Mistakes STRAIGHT Men Make When Making the Mistake of Having Sex with Women who are Extremely Neurotic & Just Waiting for the Opportunity to Be Upset/Disappointed/Unsatisfied."

So Tweeker Chick responded with HER “50 mistakes WOMEN make in bed”. It’s dirty, it’s honest, it’s funny and I love it!


Read it!

Have Jane Fonda, will shape up

Saw pictures of myself in all Essex glory from our work office party.

Fucksakes, people should be banned from taking pics after 9pm at any party. Nothing is looking, smelling or sitting as you undoubtedly think it still does. So while you think you look like a princess posing seductively for the blinding flash... YOU'RE. NOT.

I also (to my dread) realised that a spot of exercise wouldn't go amiss. Fuck. I'm sure there's a Jane Fonda tape somewhere. Or I could use cans of beans as makeshift weights to firm up like whassisface.... (I could use full bottles of wine, but the desire to open them and take swigs inbetween would certainly prove too strong...)

Ohmygod... I need a drink....

Big up: Diary of a London Call Girl

Do yourself a favor and read Diary of a London Call Girl. This blog is insightful, realistic and funny as all hell.

I didn't stop until I read all of it, and can't wait for more to come!

Belle De Jour

Bloody hell, I can't believe I missed it!!

All my going-back-to-the-office-with-no-dignity fears seemed to be for nothing - not a sniff of a funny look or bitchy comment at work.

Meeting C for a celebratory drink after.

Instead, it was poor Hetty, the almost-elderly tea lady/busybody who was the topic of after-party conversation. According to the goss, she and the boss disappeared just long enough to get some middle-aged action, and later emerged seperately, slightly rumpled and totally ignoring each other.

Classic signs of a quick, drunken, secret shag!

Bloody hell, I can't believe I missed it!!

The mating call of the Essex girl

Q: What's the mating call of the Essex girl?
A: "I'm *sooo* drunk!"

Q: What is the mating call of the ugly Essex girl?
A: (Screaming) "I said: I'm drunk!"

Don't think I've been sober since about lunchtime Friday. The Christmas office party started off boringly enough with lots of blah blah blah... successful year....thanks for all the hard work... we love you (but not enough to give you a bonus)...blaaaah....

And then it gets fuzzy. Somewhere between tequila body shots and absinthe (don't know how to spell it), I lost about 9 hours. I also lost my shoes (my favourite hooker heels!), 2 packs of fags and one earring.

How about your dignity, I hear you ask? Not sure... Was suffering from major post-shitfaced-uncertainty and depression on Saturday, which called for more booze and copious amounts of crisps, and another fuzzy, boozy Saturday night and Sunday morning.

Haven't really had time yet to ponder the whole dignity thing, but I think the fact that I couldn't sleep and absolutely dreaded getting up this morning is probably an indication of my underlying mental state...

Fuck, I'm quite profound even with a 2-day hangover..

Rolled around all night, praying for either sleep or unconciousness or even for the damned boogeyman to just jump out of the closet and take me the fuck away. At least I wouldn't have to go to work then...

I eventually fell into a fitful sleep on wrinkled sheets and a damp, sweaty pillow - what felt like mere seconds before my alarm started shouting at me to get up and face the world.

There's no escaping.

Chin up, tits out. I'm an Essex girl, fuckit. It takes a lot more than this to get us down.

Usually...

Tick-tock... It's almost party time!

Nails painted slapper red. Check.
Hair styled and sprayed within an inch of its roots. Check.
Sexy frilly nickers on. Check.
Super-short skirt in bag, ready to put on just before party. Check.
Super tight shirt already on (just a little sneak preview of things to come!) Check.
Loads of glitter and perfume in cleavage. Check.
Party make-up on. Still busy with that, so half-check.
Bling. Check.
Gum, fags, condoms. Check.

My first proper Christmas office party...

Fuck, I've got butterflies in my stomach! I almost feel like that time when we went skinny dipping in someone's backyard and got caught by the police! Lucky for us they took pity on a bunch of naked chicks and let us go... But only after getting a good eyefull!

Anyway, I am now officially locked, loaded and ready to rumble. God, I wish I could bring C along. I don't know when last I went out without her. We'd be taking the piss out of everyone, get plastered and just have loads of fun.

Maybe I can sneak her in a bit later...

Watch out stuffy, boring office people - the Essex gates have been left open and the girls are coming out!

Fuckity fuck... Time's running out!!

My mild unease about what I'm going to wear to the office Christmas party has now festered into a full-blown fucking panic. It's the one time where it'll be semi-accepted if I shake The Twins loose in the company of my boring-as-shit colleagues..

I almost dare say it's hoped for .

Well, by my lecherous, frog-legged, halitosis-drenched boss anyway... But I'm happy to oblige. I guess I can always plead drunken amnesia later...

Been on Emergency Call to best friend the whole morning. But since she's nursing the grand daddy of all hangovers, all I've been able to get out of her is a couple of dry heaves. So far, the only thing I'm 100% sure of, is that I'll definitely, positively be wearing my red hooker heels. No question.

Let the record show - I absolutely bloody love any form of staff party (especially Xmas ones) because they're guaranteed to go pear-shaped in some shape or form. Too much booze, too few snacks, bad music, bad speeches.... and inevitably someone ends up shagging on the boss' desk.

God, I hope this year it's me....