Shalampax Speaks

Hi peeps. I’m sorry about being negligent in publishing transcripts of the recordings of Openfly’s conversations with Marie. I haven’t been able to get anyone to pay to have the transcriptions done. I funded the first few out of my own pocket, but enough’s enough.

I convinced Openfly to pay for this transcription, but she didn’t commit to covering the cost of any more, so I can’t promise when I’ll be able to publish the next one.

In this conversation, Marie tells Openfly about her need to explain to Shalampaxians where babies come from. I must admit that it makes my parents’ generation of Shalampaxians look terribly stupid. And you know the old saying, the apple doesn’t fall from the tree.

The following is what Marie told Openfly:

“No offense, Openfly, but when I landed on your island, the people there were ignorant beyond belief. They didn’t have a clue about some things that pretty well every adult in the rest of the world considers to be the most basic of common knowledge.

“For example, they didn’t seem to realize that there was any relationship whatsoever between sex and having babies. In truth, because of their lack of anything I could make out as a language, I’m not sure what they thought about how babies are made, but sex apparently didn’t enter into their concept of the process.

“I’ve read on the Shalampax Web site that they thought that their god, Paahlm, placed babies in women’s bellies, but I’m pretty sure that belief was a more recent invention. I’m convinced that when I arrived they thought that a pregnancy was something that just happened like getting acne or having a bird poop on your forehead.

“I supposed I shouldn’t be surprised they didn’t make the connection between sex and babies. I don’t know if it’s still true today, but Shalampaxians back then screwed every chance they got. I thought I was sexually overactive, but they tired me out. Rabbits would be embarrassed about their frigidity compared to these people.

“Because they had sex constantly, but babies were created only occasionally, I can see how they might not notice a pattern.

“You would have thought with all of that unprotected sex going on, the Shalampax population would have exploded. But they hated the thought of taking care of children.

“They might not have seen the link between sex and babies, but they did realize that when a woman’s belly swelled she was going to have a baby. There wasn’t a lot of food around when I arrived, just raw fish and coconuts, so no one was getting fat. A woman’s swelled belly meant only one thing and they knew what that was.

“Because they despised taking care of babies, whenever a woman’s belly began to balloon out, she usually had the heaviest person she could find sit on her belly until the baby aborted. So, rather than being surprised that the population didn’t explode, I’m amazed that it didn’t die out entirely.

“The funny thing is that, if they had figured it out, Shalampaxians could have practiced the rhythm method of birth control with foolproof effectiveness and, from what I’ve read in Shalampax Speaks, they still can.

“As you know, Shalampaxian women’s vaginas turn bright red whenever they are ovulating. It’s the weirdest thing. I’d never heard of that trait before I got to Shalampax. I’ve done some research since and, among humans, it seems to be unique to Shalampaxians.

“I did eventually explain to Shalampaxians that babies result from sex, but that lesson wasn’t an easy one to teach because when I started to teach it the Shalampaxians hadn’t yet learned much English. I had to pantomime it.

“I made a circle with the thumb and forefinger of one hand, and then thrust my other hand’s forefinger in and out of the hole repeatedly. They quickly figured out what I was referring to with that gesture.

“The problem was pantomiming babies. I tried the traditional rocking of cradled arms. But they didn’t get it. Shalampaxians didn’t want to have anything to do with babies. Men never picked them up. Women picked up babies only to breast feed them. Other than that, babies were left on the ground, only to be grabbed when they might otherwise be blown away by the wind. And the adults weren’t even particularly conscientious about that.

“So the cradling in the arms charade meant nothing to them. I was only able to get my lesson across to them when a woman finally had a baby while I was there. With a baby on board, I could do my finger thrusts in the hole and then point to the baby. After I repeated that enough times they eventually got it.

“I’m sorry to say this Openfly, but when it came to babies—and a number of other things—your people were complete idiots.”

That’s it for now, peeps. Till next time.

Openfly Serial - Part 2 babies, pregnancy, pregnant, sex

There’s no mistaking it. Love is definitely in the air here in Shalampax.

With that in mind, this is just a reminder that, despite there not being any laws that specifically forbid sex in public places, it is generally frowned upon. However, if you absolutely must have sex in public and you spill any bodily fluids please clean them up and spray some air freshener in the vicinity.

Please be kind to your fellow Shalampaxians and remember that the musky smell of love in the air can be somewhat unpleasant if you haven’t had the pleasure of creating the fragrance. I’m just saying.

Miscellaneous love, public, sex

A time-use survey was recently conducted among a random sampling of 150 Shalampaxians. All 150 participants were asked to keep track of the time they spent on various activities over the course of a week. Their logs were then collected and daily averages were compiled.

As can be seen from the following table and pie chart, Shalampaxians slept an average of 8.9 hours per day, making sleep the biggest single consumer of Shalampaxians’ time.

Time-Use Statistics (Hours)

The second-highest amount of time, 7.3 hours daily, was spent watching porn. If you add in the 3 hours of non-pornographic television and video viewing, the total time spent watching all TV and videos, 10.3 hours daily, exceeds the average sleep time.

I don’t have any statistics for the world as a whole, but the above numbers seem about right to me. I assume that the time-use statistics for people elsewhere are close to these averages.

There are, however, a couple of interesting numbers. For example, the study showed an average of only 2 hours per day of work. Keep in mind that the survey averaged not just the work-hours on workdays, but also the hours spent (zero) working on weekends and holidays. This lowered the average to below what it would have been if only the number of workdays had been used in the denominator of the calculation. However, this still means that Shalampaxians work only about 14 hours per week.

As I’m sure is the case with people everywhere, most Shalampaxians spend considerable time at work watching porn while their bosses aren’t around. The survey doesn’t tell us whether the respondents included this as porn-watching time or as work time. So, the actual porn time may be higher than is indicated by the survey and productive-work time may be correspondingly lower.

Another interesting number is the 0.5 hours per day that was recorded as the time spent engaging in sex. This number is questionable because, even when a sample of only heterosexuals, equally divided between males and females, was selected from within the larger sample, this still differed considerably between men and women.

The women reported that they, on average, had sex five minutes per day. The men, on the other hand (the pun was not intended, but is likely accurate) reported that, on average, they had sex for 55 minutes per day. The women’s extra minutes were all recorded in the “working” and “watching porn” categories.

What I draw from this is, considering how little time we work, it’s amazing that we get anything done at all. Our good lives must, therefore, be tremendous gifts from Paahlm.

A sample of this size is considered to be accurate within plus or minus 0.05 hours, 19 times out of 20, as if anyone cares.

Requisite Useless Pie Chart

Miscellaneous porn, sex, sleeping, time-use

Hi, peeps. I’m still waiting for the DNA reports to see if any of the guys who submitted samples are MadMadMargo’s father. So I have no more news to report on that front yet. I know the suspense is probably eating away at you, particularly MadMadMargo, but we’ll just have to be patient.

Meanwhile, back in California, Openfly and Marie are getting along famously. They seem to have become best friends forever.

I’ve encouraged Openfly to get Marie to talk about her early days in Shalampax. I also convinced Openfly to record those conversations, with Marie’s permission, so we can have an accurate record of them.

I’ll try to find out who is responsible for maintaining the Official Shalampax Web site and get him or her to load the transcripts into archives there. However, if you’re a regular reader, you know how difficult it is to get anyone here to do anything, so I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting for that to happen if I were you.

The following is the account of Marie’s early days in Shalampax that Marie gave Openfly:

“In my younger days, I had a well-deserved reputation as a party girl or, as we’re supposed to say in these politically correct times, a party woman. When I was 24, I got a gig as a maid on a yacht owned by a fabulously rich couple.

“My job was to serve their meals, make their bed and clean their rooms. In my spare time, I also screwed the husband while his wife was sunbathing on the deck. But that was pleasure, not work. The mood of the male crew on the yacht was also always cheery because of me.

“One day, we unwittingly sailed toward the island that I later named Shalampax. As we got within sight of it, the weather immediately changed from delightful to frightful. I’m convinced that there is some sort of climatic, Pacific version of the Bermuda triangle happening there, with Shalampax right at the center of it.

“Shalampax can, and frequently does, experience some of the fiercest winds on the planet. And they rarely die down for long. Yet, if you go 50 miles in any direction, you’ll often be into the most peaceful weather you’ve ever seen.

“We got caught in a storm that I’ve since learned was bad even for Shalampax. The yacht smashed to smithereens on one of the rocks near the island. I can’t be certain, but I think everyone else onboard died instantly on impact. None of their bodies was ever found.

“How I survived is a mystery that will probably never be solved. Somehow, a wave tossed me up on the Shalampax plateau.

“I was in a coma. I thought I was under for a few hours, but it must have been five days. After coming to, I kept meticulous count of the days. When I made it back to civilization I found out it was five days later than I thought it was.

“When the Shalampaxians found my comatose body, they nurtured me back to health. I don’t know what they did while I was under, but once I returned to consciousness, the guys’ idea of taking good care of me was to keep me warm—something that was never strictly necessary on that tropical island—by taking turns laying their naked bodies on top of my naked body and humping me repeatedly.

“I didn’t complain about that in the least because I’m a certified mega-nymphomaniac. Back then, they didn’t have a scientific test to verify that. They just said if you’re always intensely, uncontrollably horny then you’re a nymphomaniac.

“I have since had that diagnosis verified clinically. A few years ago, I had an fMRI scan done on my brain. The doctors found that the areas of the brain normally associated with our sex drive were lighting up like crazy. They told me it was off the charts and they’d never seen that level of activity in those areas of the brain even in young women. So, imagine what it must have been like back in my 20s.

“I hope my daughter didn’t inherit my nymphomania. I’ve loved my life, but it can be a curse at times.

“I’m getting off track. Where was I?

[At this point, Openfly interjected to remind Marie of what she was talking about.]

“Oh yeah. It took me a few weeks before I got my strength back and I could move around and study the strange people on that island. Eventually, I learned that the guys lying on me before I fully recovered was definitely done for sex—no question or regret about that—but it was also a form of protection.

“These people had no buildings back then. To prevent themselves from being blown off the island in their sleep, before turning in for the night they’d lash themselves to the palm trees with any useful flotsam and jetsam that had washed up on their shores—kelp, pieces of rope, discarded clothing or whatever. Guys mounted me to have sex with me, but they were also on top of me to make sure I wouldn’t blow away while I was still too weak to grab onto anything on my own.

“That story brings to mind something else. I’m convinced that Shalampax is a magical place. In many cases, such as with the weather, that magic is of the evil warlock kind. But in other cases it’s seems mystical and beneficent toward the Shalampaxians.

“For example, consider the palm trees on the island. By all laws of physics, there is no way they should be able to withstand the storms that pound the island. But they do. In the time I was there, I never saw one palm tree blown down.

“I saw some not-so-small ships lifted up and blown over top the island. But the palm trees stayed firmly planted to the ground.

“The geology is unnatural too. Despite the perpetually violent seas, the sides of the island’s almost perfectly oval plateau never erode. And some of the rocks that you find on the shore below the plateau at low-tide seem to be harder than diamonds.

“We often found small rocks with one side that was knife-edge sharp. That knife edge never wore down, no matter what you did with them. Once I regained my senses, I convinced some of the natives to use them to cut down half of the palm patch, line the logs up against some of the still-standing trees and, with the help of some larger rocks hauled up from the nearby seabed when it was exposed at low-tide, create a shelter.

“The shelter wasn’t big enough for the entire population, but at least people could take turns at a little comfort.

“Nobody there had ever thought of building a shelter until I suggested it. I can tell you, before the shelter was built, sex was the wildest ride you’ve ever had. The winds almost never die down there. So the entire time you’re doing it, you’re also fighting against incredible gusts.

“And, no matter how much people in other countries may or may not enjoy them, ‘blow jobs’ took on a whole new meaning there.”

Well peeps, that should whet your appetite for Marie’s tales. She had a lot more to say—and her and Openfly are continuing their conversations—but I’ll save the rest for another time. Some of our readers are even lazier than we Shalampaxians are. They don’t like reading long posts, so I’ll end it here for now. Stay tuned.

Openfly Serial - Part 2 nymphomania, nymphomaniac, sex, shelter

The information presented below is for the benefit of Shalampaxians and anyone else who has been operating under the same misconception as we have been operating under for a great many years.

It has come to my attention that Wednesday received its nickname because it is in the exact middle of the traditional workweek. I.e., it is called “hump day” because it is the day that we “get over the hump” of the workweek.

Contrary to popular Shalampaxian belief, “hump day” is not a prescription for personal activities on Wednesdays. However, if you want to continue to have sex as frequently as possible on Wednesdays, feel free to do so as long as it is between consenting adults.

Regardless of what day you do it, remember to practice safe sex because practice makes perfect.

Miscellaneous hump day, sex, Wednesdays

The Shalampax Medical Clinic has asked me to pass along the following public health advisory. Shalampax privacy conventions, scant though they may be, do not allow me to comment or expand on an advisory of this nature, so I will simply present it verbatim.

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FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Shalampax Medical Clinic; October 30, 2009

HEALTH ADVISORY #885

All males who have had unprotected sex with Cherrytart within the last 60 days are advised to visit the Shalampax Medical Clinic. All females who have had sex with Cherrytart within that timeframe should visit the clinic as well.

Everyone covered by this advisory is urgently recommended to come to the clinic as soon as possible and, with the exception of the first people to arrive, expect to find long lines and lengthy waits when they get here.

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Sorry folks, that’s all the advisory says and I’m not allowed to add more. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to run to the clinic and get ahead of the massive lines that are sure to form when this is published.

Health Advisory Health Advisory, sex, unprotected sex