HELLO, SWEETIE

For anyone who didn't get hold of issue 242 of Skin Deep Tattoo Magazine, you can view the article here. It's quite nice. You can even purchase back copies if you go here. 

YES, I FOUND THE MARBLE. THIS IS WHY I'M LOSING IT AGAIN

 CHARITY AUCTION. THAT'S THE POINT. 

JUST SO YOU KNOW.

The signed print. In my hands. Retail value $75. Limited edition of three prints, and the only one available to buy

A while ago I published a blog called 'The Best Photo I Never Took', or something like it, I can't remember, anyway, it's here, but no need to look, there wasn't much in it, and the photo is below so don't bother. Come back to me. Thank you.
It featured a single photo of a marble I found in my bed. I don't know where it came from, or how it got there. I accept it's not an impossible thing to happen, but generally I can follow the logic of random bed-finds. This was different: I have no recollection of anyone playing marbles in my bed, and the mystery remains. I held it up to the light, and my little daughter pressed the button on my phone to take a picture. 

Photo: Tiny Sprig

I really love that picture. It makes me think of so many things, so many worlds, Universes, possibilities... captured in the morning light by a sleepy child. Shall I get to the point? Because I'm about to lose my marble...

SOMEONE CLOSE TO ME has recently received a diagnosis of Alzheimer's. I don't really know what that means. That is to say, we all have an idea, or we think we do... we all say 'what did I come upstairs for?' twenty times a day, then laugh and say 'It's my age!' - Well, I suspect the journey of finding out what Dementia really means is about to begin. I'm a little bit frightened. I wonder if my Someone is, too.

NOT LOST: the Marble

I LIKED THAT MARBLE so much that I had it caged and fastened round my neck. I shall certainly not lose it, like that. But now I am choosing to donate it, for whatever it is worth, to the annual charity auction at the Discworld Hogswatch celebrations later this month. Yes, perhaps it is a symbolic gesture. Perhaps it's somewhat flippant. But I think you know me, by now. I choose, symbolically, to lose my marble, in the name of charity.

The necklace is not all. You may also be aware of some fundraising activity I undertook a mere matter of weeks ago.

Skin Deep Tattoo Magazine

In case you haven't been keeping up, take a look at another blog entry, in which I provide details of my giant tattoo in aid of Dorothy House Hospice Care and Depression Alliance. Those were the two chosen charities of the British Beard and Moustache Championships 2014, which I co-hosted back in September (go on, go and have a look). The event raised a total of £5000 - over a quarter of which came from donations to my tattoo fundraiser. Well done, you fine people, and thank you. 

Brian Kesinger's 'Otto & Victoria'

Brian Kesinger, who did my tattoo artwork, sent me three signed prints of the design. I have kept one. The second has gone to my Mamma, who loves Shakespeare even more than I do. The third will be auctioned off at the end of the month, at the Hogswatch celebrations, in aid of RICE - the Research Institute for the Care of the Elderly. 

Yes, I'm being Victoria. And there's Otto

The purpose of this blog is not to ask for donations again, though of course you can give if you want to - go here.  Just have a look at the photos and, if you want to put in a bid for the print, or even for the necklace, just drop me a line.

Photo: SteelJam

I SHALL BE PERFORMING in my usual outrageous capacity at the Hogswatch celebrations. Come and see me.  Come and bid on something unique. Come and join the family of Bloody Loonies. It's all right, we are, and we know it. Terry says so.

Brian Kesinger's artwork for my tattoo. Bid on this - A3-sized signed print

The Blue Marble from my bed; My necklace. Own it

  

The finished piece. Not included in the auction. You cheeky monkeys.

THE BRITISH BEARD AND MOUSTACHE CHAMPIONSHIPS 2014

Darlings, I'm sorry. This still isn't the post I want to do. I will get there. But my mother's away and she hasn't seen the pictures yet, so this is for her sake.  In haste, I have harvested these from my Facebook wall. I will credit them appropriately as soon as I can. But she's in a different time zone and - well, just have a look. it was the best day. Here you are, Mamma.

 THE BRITISH BEARD AND MOUSTACHE CHAMPIONSHIPS 

SEPTEMBER 13, 2014 - BATH PAVILION

with thanks to THE WESSEX BEARDSMEN

THE BRITISH BEARD CLUB

hosts: MICHAEL 'ATTERS' ATTREE and MURIEL LAVENDER

in aid of DEPRESSION ALLIANCE

and DOROTHY HOUSE HOSPICE CARE

HE THAT HATH NO BEARD IS LESS THAN A MAN

I'm doing this in the car. Bear with me. Hyperlinks will go in later: they're proving to be a f**king fanny on a Samsung Galaxy S4 mini. Any photographs I manage to upload are by Bertrand Vessier.

FIRST THINGS FIRST – THE FUND IS STILL OPEN, so if you want to donate you still can.  Let me remind you who you’re supporting: the two chosen charities of the British Beard and Moustche Championships, which are Dorothy House and Depression Alliance. I maintain that there is not a person in the UK right now who will not, at some point, need the services of one charity or the other; or have a loved one who will. Give some money at Mu's Big-Ass Charity Tattoo - if you give £25 I’ll send you the signed photo of my –

- Never mind. I’m getting to that. This is what happened.
Somehow (I know not how) I made the decision to get a tattoo. Not my first; though I may be forgiven the youthful foolishness which planted a marsupial on my backside like a little ass-hickie. No, this would be my first proper, serious, grown-up tattoo.

But I can’t tell you all that, either. Because I told it to the editor of Skin Deep Tattoo Magazine after I had the almighty front to send him an email containing the following - just days after being introduced to him at the Great British Tattoo Show:

“Let me get to the point: In a nutshell (deep breath), do you think [the magazine] would consider it a matter of sufficient interest to feature between its covers the occasion of my inking? I should simply adore it if you would.

Good God, I shock myself sometimes. If I thought it would sway you, I’d send you a picture of the proposed canvas; but fortunately, I actually do know when to wind it in. Sort of.”

Obviously, I’d explained about the charity fundraiser as well. So that makes it perfectly ok*.  But you can read the full story in Issue 241, out in September.

THE OUTCOME

• So far, £1820 donated to the cause. 
• A total of 7.5 hours of tattoo work by a woman I admire so very, very much – I hope I may be allowed to call her a friend. 
• Genuinely the worst pain I’ve ever felt, and I’ve had two children. 
• A nude photoshoot with a photographer I trust completely, and whose work I love. 
• Countless messages of love and support from all over the world.

This year has brought yet more wonderful people into my life, and I am constantly overwhelmed at the capacity of ordinary people to act kindly for others. Thank you, all of you, who have supported me in my hare-brained scheme to raise money and promote the Beard Championships. And yet it’s so much more than that: I feel as though I have a new friend. 

William Eight-Speare. He’s got my back.

*No it doesn’t. Siôn, I am so sorry. You didn’t deserve that, based on an hour’s acquaintance. Sorry. Sorry.

YOU GOT ME TO THE FIVE, YOU GORGEOUS DIRTY BASTARDS

PLEASE NOTE THE CONTENT OF THIS BLOG BEFORE READING:
1. Shameless request for further sponsorship
2. Brief summary of why I'm baring my bottom
3. Poetic interlude
4. Further padding
5. My bottom

IF ANY OF THIS CONTENT IS LIKELY TO OFFEND YOU*, STOP. STOP NOW. GO AND GIVE MONEY TO KITTENS, OR THE CHURCH, OR SOMETHING.

*ADMITTEDLY, MY POEMS ARE PRETTY FUCKING AWFUL

You may be aware of the extent to which Beards have taken over my life. If, y'know, you live in this Universe, or any of the others, depending on whether you subscribe to the Many Universes Theory; though I'm pretty sure everyone is sick of looking at my arse in all of them.

SPONSOR ME HERE - GO ON:

DO IT NOW, BEFORE YOU SCROLL DOWN AND LOOK AT MY BOTTOM

Beards:
A year ago I became a Brand Ambassador for Captain Fawcett’s Gentlemen’s Grooming products.
Last July I cut the ribbon at the Wessex Beardsmen’s first annual Beard and Moustache Championships.
Within months I took the Silver trophy at the World Beard and Moustache Championships in Stuttgart. (Ladies’ category, of course - and if you follow that link, there's a lovely pic of me chatting with the World No.3)
At the start of the year I became Miss January for the Whiskerinas' 2014 charity calendar. Me. Miss January. I know.
THIS SEPTEMBER I will co-host the British Beard and Moustache Championships in Bath, UK.
I take my Bearding seriously, is what I'm saying. Bearding has been kind to me, and I love it.

The chosen charities supported by the 2014 Championships are Dorothy House Hospice Care and Depression Alliance. To mark the occasion in a PERMANENT way, and to help raise much-needed funds for these two great causes, I’m doing something drastic. This crazy project represents six hours of agonising pain for me… but with YOUR HELP, the funds raised could make a huge difference in the lives of those affected by much more real pain and suffering. Yes, I'm having a Sponsored Arse-Tattoo.  

Before I get to the details (and yes, I'm just forcing you to scroll down, really, but I like to provide culture as well as filth), here's a poem which sums up my life as it is at present, and it's dedicated on this occasion to the girls I performed with last night. They all understand. I was at Kitty Ribbons' Gloucester show, 'Cherries On A Cloud', which is possibly my favourite show to do. I love the venue, the audience, the girls, the crew... I am very blessed. Very blessed indeed. So pity our poor partners.

Artiste for a Wife

Or,

F*cking Glitter Everywhere

Everyone thinks it’s a glamorous life

Having a Burlesque artiste for a wife:

It’s a non-stop tornado of music and dance

And of course I do have a magnificent arse!

 - Not that he’d know because he never sees

I rarely get home before twenty-to-three;

He used to wait up but he don’t so much now

Since I said, ‘You want sexual intercourse? How

D’you think that conversation is going to go?

I’ll give you a clue, it ends with a NO!

How long do you think I’ve been on my feet

In six inch stilettoes? – six hours at least!

I just want to have a sit down and a cuppa

But no – your wife comes home and you want to fuck her!

Glitter all over my face and my hair

I’m covered in glitter from here down to there

I’m covered in makeup and sequins and sweat

I’m struggling to breathe! You imagine I’m getting

My freak on, the second I walk in the door?

Well, Baby, I am – I’m a Cabaret Whore!

I’m horny as fuck! You wouldn’t believe

Quite how desperate I am to have you relieve

Me, don’t wait for the bedroom, right here in the hall

Just do me while pressing me up to the wall –

It’s not just the roar of the crowd, I confess

That’s got certain areas under my dress

Behaving in ways that are certain to shock

If I may be blunt,  I’m well up for some cock –

(I’m aware the word ‘blunt’ has an obvious rhyme

Did you notice it’s not at the end of a line?

I’m not that sort of girl, I’m quite filthy but still,

I’ve not said it on stage, and I never will)

– I’ve been fondled and kissed by six women tonight

And it’s that that’s been making my thighs feel tight

But women are so much more physical than

I’d engage for, for certain, if it was a man;

And I love that the sisterhood celebrates wit,

And beauty, and curves, without being a bitch

– Leave that to Hollywood, Heat or Hello

Real women enjoy real friendship up close;

So glitter envelops our breasts and our hair

I’m covered in glitter from here down to there

Enough with the talking! Now let’s get it on!

Shut up or you’ll find that my lady-wood’s gone

Get me out of this gear by untying this lace

(Steady on, love, that just flicked in my face)

Unclasping my bodice will take a few minutes

My hair's coming down so I need to unpin it

Knickers on top and some more underneath

Yes, take them off – take them off with your teeth!

Divest me of feathers, denude me of hose

As for my shoes - I'll let you play with those

Unhand me of fans and deflower my gown

Strip me of jewels from navel to crown

Glitter in knickers and glitter in hair

I’m covered in glitter from here down to there

Everyone thinks it’s a glamorous life

Having a Burlesque artiste for a wife

No doubt about it! We strip and we tease

We’ve all sorts of delicate tricks up our sleeves

From a flirtatious glimpse to a slow stocking peel

No wonder you can’t wait to see our reveal

My welcome is warm, and it’s wet, but again

When it’s over, there’s still no escaping the trend

You find that there’s glitter all over the end –

Ooh. Chafing.

© Muriel Lavender  
February 2014


Here's the initial sketch I sent to the artist when I commissioned the work: I sort of knew what I wanted, but as the artist is none other than Brian Kesinger himself, I knew he'd understand what I was after.

As you see, I needed an expert. However, a tattoo is a permanent friend, and it has to sit perfectly where it's placed. It was essential that Brian knew his canvas, so to speak. As he is, of course, an Artist, a Professional, and a Gentleman, I felt sure he would not be excessively shocked. And do you know, as it turned out, he was too polite to even mention it.

So I sent this - which is the picture I promised I would publish when your donations to the two causes reached £500. Current count is almost £580 - so with my love, gratitude, extreme puzzlement, shock at my own temerity, and a fair dose of 'Ha Ha, Get a Load of Mu's Arse', here it is. Unfiltered, un-shopped, just with the bits concealed that you really don't need to see...

And finally - the Bard himself, 
with thanks to Brian Kesinger. I'll see you at the 

British Beard and Moustache Championships 
on September 13.

.