Friday, May 30, 2014

Jackie Onassis - and she didn't just polish cock!

All this stuff about Jackie Kennedy-Onassis shagging le tout Hollywood. Not just the other Kennedy brothers (Bobby and Teddy) but William Holden, Paul Newman, Marlon Brando, Gregory Peck (er?), Rock Hudson (OK I made up that up), Warren Beatty, Rudolf Nureyev and sooo many others! Thank goodness, that's what I say. I always hated to think of her sulking about the White House all neglected and sad while JFK dogged about. Now it turns out she quite boldly pursued cock; celebrity cock, mind. Not just your average cock. She didn't do nonentity cock. 

Cock's on my mind because of something I read in this week's excellent Popbitch. It reports that Nick Clegg has a 'polished' cock. Can you imagine? Does he use Brasso to go with his neck (a laboured joke but think about it). And polished things arise in a lovely anecdote that's fallen my way about Jackie. I can't wait to tell you...

In the very late 1980s, my source had a job as a shop assistant at Paragon, the huge sporting goods dept store near Union Square in Manhattan. He tells me:

"Jackie came in one day and asked me a lot of questions about exercises and various equipment and asked what I could do for her butt (as if she had one). I recommended equipment where she should lie on the floor and raise her midsection while clenching her buttocks. Anyway she was puzzled so I dropped down and demonstrated.

"Later when she went to pay, I was nearly blinded by her change purse - like the coins were seriously dazzling. I said, 'What the fuck, does someone polish your money?' And she looked down, looked back at me and said, 'Um, yes.'"

"Um, yes." So Jackie!

3 comments:

Madame Arcati said...

My dear, Madame really doesn't want to think abaht it - especially given the owner. I suppose in another time, one might have said 'slicked' or 'slicky', which presupposes prior action. But don't lower the tone.

Madame Arcati said...

Yes it is rather long isn't it, to quote Jackie

Madame Arcati said...

My darling, the love is mutual. I don't think you'd want Suzanne Moore's hair. Think of all those dyed strands swimming about in soup or one's Bloody Mary. I suspect Suzanne periodically throws up hair balls, like one's puddy tat coughs up fur balls after self-licking, purr purr. One begins to admire the female bald head which need not be prompted by some horrible, life-threatening disease.