Way back in the early ‘80s when I was a college athlete, I recall my coach using the phrase “women weaken legs”! I am sure that it was before a big game, or an early heads up to the incoming freshman athletes. While I can’t recall the specific scenario, it is now almost 30 years later, and yet I still remember the phrase.
The expression raises many interesting questions ….
For example, is there scientific evidence to back this claim??
Are there certain sexual acts that are more prone to the weakening effect? How important is the “women” in this act (if you know what we mean)?
Maybe, more importantly, who were the lucky athletes who were involved in this study?? … “ok, go have sex for an hour and then we need you to run two miles” ….
How about the poor guys that were psyched to be involved in the study, only to find out that were in the “no sex” group??
If there is any evidence that “women weaken legs”, then does the reciprocal apply? Do “Men Weaken Legs” as well?? Any female athletes have some input on this one?
So, what do you think (or know)??? Do you have any first hand stories to share? Any medical professionals want to chime in (thinking that some doctor probably got a federal grant to check into this)?
I am currently planning a trip to China, as part of my ‘get myself emotionally in shape in 2010′ regime. This is incidental but integral to the following anecdote….
I ended up pulling a dude and taking him back to mine a few weeks ago, and we were both horrifically drunk and random. We finish having some sex, and while still on top of me AND INSIDE ME he comes out with:
‘Well, this’ll get you ready for China. Everyone’s crap in bed in China.’
More sexy sets from our favorite naughty Flickr photographers!
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Four Flickr sets featuring women in love with women!
Only Flickr members with safe search OFF will see most of the photos in these sets. Join Flickr free.
Noemi, by Ant777, two women in love…
Dana, by Mike Adams, A woman and her loving friend…
Sheziss | Cristi, by Jordi A. S. , high fashion girls…
Kacy & Krissy, by Melissarobinphoto, more ladies together…
This year, I’m a proud sponsor of the Good For Her Feminist Porn Awards! To be exact, “better than chocolate” will be featured at the dessert buffet as we are the Diamond Hospitality Sponsor! Sweet Pleasures is our business, how good is that?
The Feminist Porn Awards is hosted by my friends at Good For Her Adult Boutique and will be held on April 8th and 9th in Toronto. The official website with more detailed info about the different award categories can be found here: http://www.goodforher.com/fpa_2010.
So, why did I decide to support this event? Well, for one I am supporting the Awards because they attract some of the most dedicated boutique owners, sex educators and lovely people from all over the world and I would like to give back for the support that they extend to my young brand. But through the sponsorship I also came to realize how much there is to Feminist Porn today. When I first learned about the Awards, my first question was: Isn’t there a contradiction between “feminism” and “porn”?
Well, after all much of today’s mainstream porn production is targeting men, and often presents unnatural, stereotypical characters. So I guess what many women tend to do is to ignore porn and simply not watch it. But I have to say, that watching porn can be quite stimulating and it is a nice way to get new ideas to shake up your sex life. We all know that the world is inundated with cheesy, cliche, degrading, no-budget, patronizing and stupid porn. But we also believe that erotic fantasy is powerful stuff, and that women deserve to put their dreams and desires on film too. That’s why a group of visionaries started the feminist porn business, following the logic of Annie Sprinkle who says: “The answer to bad porn is not no porn. It’s better porn!”. I vigorously agree with Annie.
Feminist porn is defined as “Porn which does not portray, promote, or utilize stereotypical gender constructs, exploitative gaze, or highly unnatural, stereotypical appearance standards. Also, the porn would be produced by a company dedicated to equality in all levels of production, promotion, and distribution.”. The goal of the Good For Her Feminist Porn Awards is to honor pornographers whose groundbreaking work offers a fresh perspective on the sexual expression of women and everyone who finds themselves under-represented in mainstream pornography.
The past five years have seen a multitude of improvements in the adult industry as a whole, especially as it pertains to women. Perhaps most important of these is the explosion of female filmmakers looking to change the way that sex is presented on screen. Queer directors are moving away from delicate lesbian sex to authentic representations of the diversity of queer communities and exploring the ways that sex and culture interact. Straight female directors are showing that porn for women doesn’t always have to look like romance novels come to life, but that soft-core and hardcore are equally sought after by discerning female porn viewers.
What follows this growth in female directors, is of course, female viewers. Women are watching porn, talking about porn, buying porn and sharing porn with their partners in record numbers – a reported 1/3 of porn viewers are women, and as many as 9 million women access adult websites per month.
If you would like to check it out for yourself, maybe try these movies: “All about Anna”, “Constance”, “Pink Prison”, Female Fantasies”.
Have a good time
I am looking forward to the Awards and am proud to be a part of it.
Wow that last post was depressing! I am cheering myself up now remembering Todd.
I met Todd when I was about 19 and he was about 21 or so. He was an arty kind of guy and studying at university, a different one to mine. We were on ski trips with friends and happened to be staying at the same chalet. He was a tall guy, well over my 5′8″. A well-built, healthy man with a ready smile and long brown hair and the most beautiful thighs I had, and have yet to see on a man.
I was quite sexually inexperienced and very shy. My eyes werent lifted often at first, his direct hazel gaze sent waves of confusion and blushes through me. He tried hard to engage me in conversation and eventually I opened up, and we spoke openly and frankly and easily. We found ourselves being more and more separated from the group of friends and finding ourselves in each others company more often. We skiied together, ate together and often found each others company after nights of drinking and revelry. No sex yet, not even shared kisses. I wanted to, very much, but I had no idea how to approach letting him know what I wanted (lol youth).
One night while our friends were drinking we went out for a walk. Todd had told me there was something I must see outside, so we rugged up and went walking in the grounds around our chalet. We were walking snuggled together as it was very cold, wrapped up in our winter jackets and scarves and things. Talking about who-knows-what things that interest 19 year olds. We reached a peak of a small hill, Todd told me to turn off my torch, when I did that and we were standing in darkness, he kissed me, long and passionate, gently but with a forcefulness that made me weak-kneed and spiked me with lust. He whispered in my ear asking whether I would let him make love to me on the stars. I made some confused noise and he pointed to the ground underneath our feet. We were standing on pure, beautiful white snow, and the moon was reflected in the flakes as a million, billion stars. I have rarely seen anything so beautiful. “yes” I breathed.
He placed his jacket on the snow and gently laid me back on it, he stripped himself of all his clothes creating a makeshift nest with his clothes. Now, standing naked and magnificent above me, his thighs pillars of muscle glowing white in the moonlight drawing my eyes to his cock, thick and huge and hard. His eyes looked black in the night, glaring down at me, he exhaling clouds of cold air, looking like a dragon breathing fire to me.
Kneeling between my legs, taking off my boots, my jeans and my panties with cold, cold fingers. The icy air hitting my hot pussy with a shock to be replaced almost immediately with his hot tongue, the first time a man had performed oral on me. His mouth hot and his tongue probing, my legs and feet so cold… he tucked my feet in under his belly and caressed them to warm them a little. He was tender and kind. His tongue made me cum while I watched the stars overhead and watched the heavens whirl over me. I did feel the earth move that night.
He moved his now icy cold body over me, plunging his hard cock into my hot wetness, he roared – he did! He ROARED when he did entered me! He thrust his hard cock into me over and over, he towered arching, head thrown back over my body, his long hair falling backward. I watched him, my wide blue eyes taking in his head his arms, his torso glowing in the moonlight, stars and moon behind him. It didn’t take him long to cum, and when he did he looked so fierce, a dragon scowling and snarling, blowing steam and fire from his nostrils as his black eyes took in his conquest.
Our world is plagued by Adult Content and Material … magazines, chat rooms, movies, gaming, throughout the public and television. It feels as though there is not a single place on earth that a person can go, to escape media attention to the subject of sex and sexuality, and the free flow of information that our PC culture demands has become unruly, leaving nothing to the imagination. We are surrounded by articles and information regarding pornography, prostitution, abuse and threatening behaviours that would not have been acceptable a mere 10 years ago. So how much information is too much?
i’ve decided to make another blog in my attempt to get over my ex. i’ve decided that it was time to move on because if i stayed in that train wreck, i’d eventually get hurt in the end coz inevitably one day, he’ll come to me and tell me he’s moved on or worse, has fucked someone else or more likely, other people. i can’t afford to sit around and wait for that day to happen, nor do i deserve it. a few nights ago i realized that it was hurting me and making me para ’staying’ with him, but it hurt not being with him too. i had to accept that it is what it is. it’s shyt, we want different things, we’re not understanding each other anymore and it’s best if we just part ways and live our lives separately. i don’t know what the future holds for us, but i do know for certain that i own the now, and i intend to live it in the best way possible. i don’t want to be emo anymore nor do i want to be angry or have a low self-esteem from fucking unfair expectation’s put on by someone who i thought loved me.
god bless this blog for here i can openly say what i want *ahhh*
on another note, slowly creeping back are the fucking idiots who i used to be with *urgh* i think they think that cause i’m single, it means i’m going to give them a free fuck. they couldn’t be further from the truth. so i wrote this little blog post on my other blog to let them know how i felt:
I think there may be a slight misunderstanding here boys…. I’m single, NOT a free fuck. Although, there are brothel’s and escort’s you can go to & they will be more than happy to cater to your needs. So please stop contacting me if it’s ASS that you’re after.
note: this is in no way, shape or form directed at my ex/bf.
in the brilliant words of einstein, “doing the same thing over and over again and expecting the same results is insanity.” i’ve been doing the same fucking thing over and over again for years and i’m thru with it. i’m thru with fuckheads so from this moment on i’m starting from a clean slate; no more ex’s, no more fuck buddies, nothing.
it’s a new beginning for me and i love the person that i’m becoming x
The Great Male Survey 2009 Edition Part I: Dating & Sex – AskMen.com.
The results in the Dating & Sex section of the 2009 GMS revealed that, when it comes to relationships, everything old is new again: tradition is very much being revived on the romantic front. In the bedroom, however, certain things are timeless: We men still aren’t getting as much sex from our women as we require!
Guess this means that us girls have to give it up more?? Truth be told, people need sex. Some need it more than others. If you and your partner are equal in terms of desire it is great news — but if one of you is high desire and the other not as high desire this is where things can get tricky. If as a women you are low desire you know the elephant in the room is pretty much always about when are we going to have sex again? There is no denying it; you can’t stick your head in the sand about it. But find out more about how you can have some good conversation and a bit more give and take on what you both need. tokii’s TradingPost could be the place where you decide to hang out and trade goodies so that you both get your needs on this topic met
Well, I finally got an answer from Twitter, and got my account un-suspended.
It seems that the problem was the avatar I had, my profile picture on Twitter. It showed me and two girlfriends in the spa pool, after a couple of vodka cocktails, and you could see a nipple. Apparently it was pornographic.
It was my nipple, and I move in circles that don’t find nudity offensive, so I didn’t think twice about posting the picture. There are avatars on Twitter that are far more explicit (think wet camel toe pictures) than mine was, but as there was clothing covering the offending body part, they are deemed to be ok.
The thing that really gets my goat, is that their immediate reaction was account suspension, with no explanation, and a convoluted appeals process. An appeals process that took five days to get a response. This suspension automatically deletes your whole twitter network. You lose all of the people you were following, and all of those following you, as well as any subscribed lists. These are not reinstated with your Twitter account.
A better way to approach it would be to send an email, or even a fucking TWEET!! After all, they invented that concept didn’t they?
Something along the lines of “Your avatar violates our TOS, please change it within 48 hours or you will be suspended.” Simple. And I would have done it, and not lost the whole network. When you consider that the avatar is a thumbnail, and you would be looking for one nipple in a thumbnail with three people in it, someone worked fucking hard to get offended I think.
Can I put a picture of a giant rubber cock as my avatar do you think? I will probably play it a bit safer than that though…. Risquè, but not raunchy.
Matroesjka’s (Matrioshki) and Matroesjka’s 2 (Matrioshki season 2) is a Belgium/Flemish TV series about the Thailand/Russian/eastern European sex trade. The Belgium/Russian underworld recruits women to work as prostitutes.
Surprisingly Matrioshki is well acted and appears to be very authentic. The only negative is that each season was only 10 episodes. Both seasons are available on DVD
The first time she said this, I have to admit,
I was a little thrown off.
The girl needed ambesol to order to have an orgasm.
She would gently squeeze just the right amount
from the tube and apply it
to certain areas of her mouth,
very slowly, very intentionally.
I would wait patiently,
and silently for her to
give the slight smile and say,
Any set of rules which is difficult to follow must not be imposed.It must be left to the individual.If an individual is not inclined to follow Celibacy,but spiritually inclined may be inducted.In this way one can avoid perversions.It must be understood that Sex is not a sin.
Story:
Pope Benedict XVI has defended celibacy among priests, saying it was a sign of “full devotion” to the Catholic Church.
He was speaking at a theological conference before meeting Germany’s top bishop for talks about a new crisis over the sexual abuse of children
German Bishop Robert Zollitsch apologised again to victims of abuse by German priests.
The Archbishop of Vienna had suggested that the Church should examine celibacy and priests’ training. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/8564074.stm
JAKARTA, KOMPAS.com – Belakangan ini bintang sinetron Asmirandah merasakan betul perihnya jadi perempuan korban pemerkosaan, yang akhirnya hamil. “Kadang kalau di kampus suka enggak sadar aku suka pegang perut terus,” cerita Asmirandah saat ditemui di kawasan Rempoa, Bintaro, Kamis (4/3/2010).
Kebiasaan Asmirandah itu, tentu bukan karena ia benar-benar sedang berbadan dua. Tapi, karena ia sedang mendalami karakter Kamila untuk sinetron terbarunya, Kemilau Cinta Kamila. “Ceritanya aku jadi korban pemerkosaan. Aku punya pacar namanya Edo, dia memperkosa aku, dan aku hamil di luar nikah,” jelasnya.
Saking berusaha total dalam berperan, Asmirandah mengaku kadang-kadang tak sadar bertingkah layaknya perempuan sedang hamil. “Aku berusaha banget buat ngerasain hamil. Rasanya gimana kalau hamil muda dan gimana rasanya, sakit enggak. Jadi aku harus benar-benar observasi,” kata dara berdarah Belanda itu.
Memerankan tokoh Kamila, diakui mahasiswi Next Academy itu, tak terlalu sulit. “Kebetulan aku sudah 21 tahun dan Kamila 17 tahun. Jadi aku harus kembali merasakan gimana cara pandang saat umur 17 tahun,” tutupnya
Today i learned what being an SL stripper is, have you ever wondered about that? Or possibly did it at one point? When i was a noob i was a dancer for about a week and got tired of looking like a loose pussy on an internet world. No wonder no one believes me when i tell them i’m a virgin ~Le Sigh~
Well tonight i learned what it was like to really be a “Sltripper”…
-Cough..-
Anyways…haha…how are you world? It’s been raining here in RL since 10 PM last night, and all i’ve done today is sit around watching zombie movies with the roomate and drinking tea. I’ve yet to get out of my pajamas and my poor roomates car is now soaked (He forgot to roll his window up this morning!)
Tonight i’m doing pixel sex for a friend’s machinma, i’ve never liked pixel porn but since she’s basically my sister and i trust her and i know that whatever she does is always art related i know i’ll be fine.
Now…i’m not saying pixel sex is bad a lot of people do it….i just don’t agree with it. In my opinion it means you can’t get any ass in real life. Is that true for you?
‘Undress yourself, my child,’ the werewolf said, ‘and come lie down next to me.’…And each time she asked where she should put all her other clothes, the bodice, the dress, the petticoat, and the long stockings, the wolf responded:
‘Throw them into the fire, my child, you won’t be needing them anymore’.
Innocent tale or the start to the loss of innocence?
It didn’t occur to me that this is how the famous fairytale could be interpreted until we discussed it in class recently. Maybe I’m looking into it too much and maybe so are the academics, but they have unearthed an underlying message that we can’t afford to forget…
Academics argue that this is a tale that shows the consequences for girls who travel their own path in life carefree, against the norm but ineviably cross grave consequences in the end.
What I get from the tale most of all is that there will be people in your life, not just men, who will pose as a sincere and genuine person, luring you in with their unquestionable trust and kindness. When in fact they’re nothing but a nasty wolf in disguise.
Inspired by what has become a swath of unseasonably warm weather, Aura and I headed over to Harvard Square today for a little exploring. As we were tooling around the area, I decided to formally introduce Aura to Harvard itself. “Maybe you’ll want to go here someday!” I chirped sunnily to Aura, ducking through one of the many arched gates that dot Harvard Yard.
A minute or so into our tour, Aura had already stopped listening to my speech on the importance of higher education, preferring instead to climb staircases and run on the lawns. I was soon reduced to talking to myself, raising my voice during the important parts to regain Aura’s attention. “Schools like Harvard are certainly a possibility IF YOU BUCKLE DOWN,” I yelled. “Never forget that MERIT SCHOLARSHIPS can be yours!”
It was somewhere around the time I was explaining college’s potential for “LIFELONG FRIENDSHIPS!” and “SELF DISCOVERY!” that I first noticed the many flyers dotting the campus. The more of them I read, the softer my diatribe became.
By the time I finished reading these, I was starting to change my tune. “But there is certainly nothing wrong with smaller, lesser known schools!” I called to Aura as she whipped back and forth in front of the famed Widener Library. “Many state schools produce a DIZZYING array of successful graduates!” I cried out, pulling Aura back toward one of the campus gates. Every time a passing student smiled at Aura, I glared in return, muttering things like “Sexual deviant!” under my breath.
Then I saw this flyer.
It wasn’t until Aura started tugging on my hand that I realized I had been standing in front of this particular flyer for an unnecessarily long time. But…vajazzled? In a legendary place of higher learning? The editor in me took offense with the j in place of a g, the proofreader in me bemoaned the underline in place of italics, the music lover in me reared back in horror by the bastardization of jazz.
And the mother in me? “FORGET WHAT I SAID,” I announced to Aura, scooping her up and racing for an exit as fast as my legs could carry us. “THIS IS NOT THE SCHOOL FOR YOU.”
Another day, another $48,868 per year saved. And Aura will never touch a stick-on jewel again.
The thought is appalling,
But should I slip away into the stormy sea, will you remember me?
Dear world,
Today didn’t go so well. I had to call them to come back because I felt so unwell. They were over an hour away from home at the time, and they missed my first phone call. Apparently I sound drugged today, that doesn’t particularly surprise me, that’s precisely how I feel. I don’t really remember what was said on the phone, apart from that they were coming back and not to leave the key in the door. I have been lying down or asleep for the most part of today, I don’t seem to be able to stay awake for long enough to complete anything worth doing or do anything at all productive.
It hit me last night that no matter what I do I will always be sick. Hospital and doctors trips have become the norm. I’m familiar with the inside of ambulances and the hospital staff now. I am afraid of getting worse, my heart failing on me and my lungs deciding enough is enough. I am afraid of my immune system admitting defeat. I cannot pretend that I am not afraid when I have to keep going back to clinics, or to see my surgeon, or for testing. This is not the way I meant my life to be. I would honestly do anything to stay healthy for a whole year, although I know it’s unobtainable, I am willing to try. I was having horrific flashbacks to hospital last year, when they asked if I tried to kill myself, when my blood results came back, when they told me there was something wrong with my heart. All of the terrifying memories you wish could stay restricted within the ward, restrained to the bed and unable to inflict harm upon themselves or another human being. Part of me wishes that I could have ended it all back then, part of me is still spending hours on end contemplating the best methods of suicide with the highest mortality rates. I guess what I should be saying is that I do not want people holding onto me any more, or asking me why I feel this way. I just want to become invisible and fade into the background. I never asked to be born, and I never wanted my life to turn out like this. I am so sorry.
I pray that tomorrow I feel a little better, or the antidepressants start to work, or everything begins to lift, because if it doesn’t I honestly do not know what I am going to do with myself. Nothing seems to be doing anything apart from getting worse, and hurting me more. I guess that tomorrow is a whole new day, but I am always making judgements about the future by looking at the past. As today hasn’t been a good day, why should tomorrow be any better? I mean, sure. If I keep doing/feeling the same thing I will keep getting the same thing, but I just don’t have the energy to make any changes.
She is really playing with my head, I do not know why. She makes me want to turn around and say, “Hey, your ex boyfriend did more with me than he will ever do with you. Grow up and fix your priorities, you’re not getting him back. How dare you point such accusations at me.” You’re turning me into the whore, as always. I will not stoop down to your level, he deserves so much better than you, he always did and he always will. I wish I could erase you from my life completely, I never want to hear another word from you. I do not care what your turn ons and turn offs are, I do not care what you did with him back in ‘09. That’s old news. Grow up and learn that sleeping around will now earn you respect. Don’t even think about pulling me down with you. I have my reasoning for what I have done. Get out of my life, and his life.
So I recently heard of this website called chatroulette.com … or chatrt.com. It is a pretty cool concept with a less than impressive execution. You go to the site, and you find three boxes. Two stacked above one another at the left of the screen, and one big one to the right. The two on the left are webcam windows, the one on the bottom shows you, the one on the top shows a random stranger amongst over 20,000 people everytime you hit “next” or F9. The box on the right is a chat page.
You set up your settings to ensure that they can see you without hearing you, see you AND hear you, or neither. Your chances of matching up with somebody greatly decrease if you don’t allow them to see your cam as well. Once you’re all ready, you hit go and it flashes on your webcam (bottom left) and pairs you with some random webcam (top left). You now have the option to chat with this person either via microphone or chat (right big box), or you can hit “Next” (or F9) and find a different persons webcam.
I found this rather strange and for lack of better words, fucked up. But I decided I wouldn’t knock it till I tried it. Turns out chatroulette.com is the perverse male’s stomping grounds. First of all, nine out of ten webcams I viewed showed me men (90% males). Out of those nine men, seven of them were shirtless (70% shirtless males). Out of those seven men, five of them were completely naked (50% naked men). Out of those five naked men, four of them were MASTURBATING ON WEBCAM (40% masturbating naked men). Needless to say, I was hitting next faster than…. fast things.
Now you would think that a website that consists 40% of masturbating naked men is incredibly awful as is. But no no… it gets worse. I scrolled through about 50 webcams before I decided enough was enough. During my hour of life wasted on this website, I saw some of the strangest shit I had ever seen. Out of the (approximately) 50 webcams I saw, three of them stood out like a zit on prom night (15% outlying weird ass stuff).
A guy making love to a head of lettuce.
An overweight Asian man with full make up and a pink, lacy bra on.
A man passionately sexing up a plush Raccoon.
Unfortunately, I was caught off guard for the first two, and was unable to print screen them. But I got wise to this website, and decided to have my finger ready to hit print screen the next time I saw something incredibly screwed up… so when I saw the man and his Raccoon… BOOM PRINT SCREEN! The picture below may give some of you nightmares, may make some of you hate Raccoons, but it will make all of you laugh a lot and say “WHAT THE FUCK” out loud… yea, even if nobody is around. Take a look:
"Why didn't you look at me during??"
Yea that’s right folks… a grown man… making love to a toy Raccoon… for all the world to see. I get it, people have different fetish’s… they like to do weird stuff… I’ve honestly heard of it all, and if somebody told me there were people out there that liked submitting their sexuality to a stuffed animal, I wouldn’t even flinch!! Having said that, when you put it on a webcam, for ANYBODY WITH AN INTERNET CONNECTION to see, don’t you think thats a bit risky?! This guy probably has a job… probably has a friend or two (maybe)… he probably leaves his house… is it completely impossible that somebody he may know would see this!?
To wrap up, I’d like to give you forewarning… do NOT waste your life on this website. you will be disappointed beyond repair. It is not as fun and cool as you may think. Try it out, because curiosity will get the best of you (chatroulette.com), but once you see it first hand you will feel the same way I do, and you will say to yourself “I wish I listened to Sepy”. And please for the love of god, if you end up LOVING this site, DON’T do anything Raccoon-ish on webcam… you may fall victim to the treacherous PRINT SCREEN button, end up on a blog, and then you will have to move to a different country.
Gerard Reve (1923-2006) was a Dutch Catholic communist homosexual author, who in 1966-1968 fought the state of The Netherlands in a two-year blasphemy trial, a trial which centred on Reve’s literary description in which he thrice fucks God during His incarnation as a donkey.
Yet there is little here that you can’t find in the medieval mystics, all updated for the twentieth century:
“Reve describes how God vists him in the form of a donkey and how, in an upsurge of love and devotion, he takes the incarnated God to bed:
En God Zelf zou bij mij langs komen in de gedaante van een éénjarige, muisgrijze Ezel en voor de deur staan en aanbellen en zeggen: ‘Gerard, dat boek van je–weet je dat Ik bij sommige stukken gehuid heb?’ ‘Mijn Heer en mijn God! Geloofd weze Uw Naam tot in alle Eeuwigheid! Ik houd zo verschrikkelijk veel van U,’ zou ik proberen te zeggen, maar halverwege zou ik al in janken uitbarsten, en Hem beginnen te kussen en naar binnen trekken, en na een gewildige klauterpartij om de trap naar het slaapkamertje op te komen, zou ik Hem drie keer achter elkaar langdurig in Zijn Geheime Opening bezitten, en daarna een presenteksemplaar geven… met de opdracht: Voor de Oneindige. Zonder Woorden. (Nader 112-113)
And God Himself would visit me in the form of a one-year-old, mouse grey Donkey and stand in front of my door and ring the bell and say: ‘Gerard, that book of yours–did you know that I wept while reading some of its passages?’ ‘My Lord and my God! Praisebe Your Name to all Eternity! I love You so immensely,’ I would try to say, but would burst out crying halfway, and start to kiss Hi and pull Him inside, and after a colossal climb up the stairs to the little bedroom, I would possess Him three times in a row and at great length in His Secret Opening, and afterwards give Him a free copy… of my book with the dedication: To the Infinite. Without Words (Trans. Jessika Batteau).
As is evident from the above, Reve combines the high rhetoric of the Bible with the banal and carnal, using capital letters in an ironic manner.”
(Jesseka Batteau, “Literary Icons and the Religious Past in the Netherlands” (2009), 239)
A police officer who was sacked after begging colleagues for sex has lost her unfair dismissal claim.
[Jessica Parfrey, sacked after five months, allegedly told her boss: "I'm 19, what is wrong with you?" / The Daily Telegraph Source: The Daily Telegraph]
Officer 19 when she propositioned colleagues
She offered to have sex in toilet and fake evidence
Commission rejects claims she was only joking
Within days of being posted Jessica Parfrey propositioned her supervisor to have an affair because “everyone knows you’re supposed to fall in love with your buddy”.
A month later, after he turned her down, she told him: “Can’t we just f***? I am a 19-year-old girl, what is wrong with you?”
The Industrial Relations Commission in Sydney heard that Ms Parfrey also offered an officer oral sex in a pub toilet and carpark and later propositioned another, saying: “I know you want me.”
Both men refused. She tried to call another colleague 12 times, left six text messages and then offered to help him study for his police exams by stripping off an item of clothing for every question he got correct. He refused.
Ms Parfrey was sacked from the police in September 2007, five months into her probation.
Assistant Commissioner Michael Corboy told her in a letter that her conduct had been “entirely inconsistent” with the standards expected of an officer.
However, she claimed her dismissal was unjust and argued that the majority of the alleged sexual harassment took place outside work during drinks with workmates.
John Grayson, deputy president of the Industrial Relations Commission, refused yesterday to reinstate her, rejecting her claims that she had been joking.
He said he believed her former colleagues at Waratah local area command, near Newcastle.
Ms Parfrey, who was not in court, has been working as a barmaid.
She graduated from the Goulburn police academy in May 2007 but she failed two subjects in her associate degree in policing at Charles Sturt University and had to fight to overturn a two-year study ban.
The commission also heard that during her probation she told another officer that she wanted to attend the scenes of fatal traffic accidents because it would “f*** up her head” and she could use it for a hurt-on-duty claim.
She also offered to lie in a suspected drink driving case, the commission was told.
While out on patrol, she and another officer saw a suspected drink driver standing 100 metres from his car.
She offered to say she had seen him behind the wheel, the commission was told.
Ms Parfrey’s solicitor, Stuart Grey, said she may appeal.
so this weekend i moved some of my stuff over to M’s place. I can’t believe this is happening. i am actually going to live with people other than family. my mind is all over the place right now trying to rewind to the point when my dumb ass agreed to this situation. it doesn’t matter now. it’s done. saturday will be the final day of my complete independence.
i feel like i’m in a blank space where what is happening with this move is neither good nor bad it just is. i feel like i don’t want to be in my apartment any more. i’m also not completely sure i want to move in with M. scratch that, I do want to live with M, but not her Mom. that woman freaks me out. I will tell you about her when i have time.
Everything Is Wrong With Me: A Memoir of an American Childhood Gone, Well, Wrong by Jason Mulgrew had me basically frothing at the mouth the second I glanced at it’s fantastic cover on Goodreads. Seriously, this cover and title are at the top of my list of best book titles and covers that I’ve ever seen. I’m torn between feeling enormously proud of him for getting this book published and wanting to repeatedly stab him out of my jealous ghetto rage at his success. (In case you don’t know it, I grew up dysfunctional and under the care of a bipolar mother, drunk stepfather, and possible serial-killer half-brother. I want to finish writing my own memoir that I started years ago. And once you read this book, you’ll understand where my stabbing fantasy comes from, as there is lots of stabbing going on in the book!)
Jason Mulgrew is 30 years old and has what I believe to be a best-selling memoir on his hands, damn it! When I discovered that he was writes a blog titled Everything is Wrong with Me 30, Bipolar, and Hungry and it has over 2000 million hits, I knew that I had to review this book. Thank goodness I received my review copy in the mail just in time for the book’s release today. I started reading the book Monday at 7 am and had to wake up at 1:00 am this morning just to finish reading it, because I’ve fallen completely head over heels in love with this book. And I’ve got a bit of a weird crush on Jason’s father, Dennis Mulgrew, who was even more wilder than my own drunken stepfather in his prime.
I don’t know what was funniest story was in this book, it may have been the fact that he was taught to refer to his penis as his “bird,” or when he wrote a paragraph about his pack of wild friends with goofy names such as Jimmy the Muppet and asked the readers to envision Ray Liotta narrating the paragraph in the style of Henry Hill from Goodfellas, or if it was Jason’s wild over-use of hysterical footnotes. I’m leaning toward the footnotes. My favorite can be found on page 154, and the footnote is nearly half the page and runs on to take up a quarter of the next page as well. Basically, it is a delightful story-within-a-story about his favorite childhood game of all time called remote controlling. Everyone in his Philly neighborhood paid off the cable guys to get all the premium channels, including porn, and he and his friends would walk the streets with their remote controls and point them into open living rooms and changed their neighbors tv’s to the porn channels. Jason and crew would then witness the mayhem and hysteria of the families who saw sudden pornography on their television screens. I still can not stop laughing about this story.
This memoir is filled with top-notch tales of hilarious dysfunction, such as his young classmate Carlos who had a giant-sized penis who attempted to teach Jason the correct way to take a piss in the first grade, as Jason held his “bird” like a lion holds its young. Perhaps it was the story about how his father spend Jason’s first Christmas getting pissed drunk, watching his buddy get knifed after nearly getting jumped, and eventually getting arrested for attempted murder. These are the gems that make this book shine. And, it is filled with wonderful pictures. The best one was of Jason dressed up for the annual Philly New Years Day Parade, but that photo wasn’t on his website. So, I thought you’d like to see these two, to give you an idea of what else you can find in the book. The first picture is of Jason getting a ham from Christmas.
Photo curtesy of Jason Mulgrew
In Jason’s life, it was normal for his grandfather to take him bar hopping while he was collecting bets for his gambling business, just as it was normal for him to kick back with a beer as shown below. As much as this picture shocks me, I honestly can’t stop laughing about it, because I know that life, having grown up the same way. I clearly remember the first time I drank an entire pina colada ate age nine, right along with my mom. Whoops! For many people, this is just how life is, and I love nothing more than laughing over the terrible yet funny stories that other people have written about their own childhood.
Photo curtesy of Jason Mulgrew
I can’t beg you enough to buy this book. It is a must-read for every person who grew up loving the fun in their dysfunctional childhoods. Everything Is Wrong With Me: A Memoir of an American Childhood Gone, Well, Wrong is a frank, brutally honest and shockingly hysterical memoir of booze, porn, masturbation, and the stupid acts of boys and men. Who doesn’t want to have a good laugh and a trip down memory lane? Even if you weren’t raised dysfunctional in the traditional sense, buy the book and take a walk down the wild side and see how hard life was for someone else, and perk yourself up knowing at least you didn’t have to survive that childhood. So what if your mom or dad was a little too controlling? His dad let him play with a loaded elephant gun (on accident, but still!) all afternoon with his little brother.
Photo curtesy of People Magazine
Jason Mulgrew currently works for “a white-shoe law firm that tolerates his blue-collar ways,” or at least until his boss eventually reads this book and fires his ass for admitting what he does at work. In addition, Jason still writes his popular blog, almost had a tv show picked up, and has even made it into People’s 2005 Most-Eligible-Bachelor List. I am still wondering who he blew to get that shout out?
To purchase your copy of Everything Is Wrong With Me: A Memoir of an American Childhood Gone, Well, Wrong by Jason Mulgrew, click here.
To visit Jason Mulgrew’s website and blog, click here.
Wow, there are a lot of experts on wordpress,
and a lot of strong opinions.
There are tons of artists,
and legions of writers.
I can barely scribble with crayons,
and I am certainly not a writer.
How did everyone else get so talented?
Sex experts dispense their knowledge
on wordpress. There is an endless sea of
“Secret Confessions of a (stripper/hooker/porn star)” blogs.
Can you blog while having sex?
Political analysts abound.
Why aren’t these people in office?
Religious zealots blog too.
I’ve read a lot of condemnation
of people and religions.
Is religion all about hate?
So what do I know?
I know that talented people
don’t have to tell you they’re talented.
I know that the people trying so hard
to convince others of their expertise,
are usually trying to convince themselves.
I know that there is a lot more
gray than there is black and white.
This entire story breaks my heart. As if the family isn’t enduring enough pain already. This scandal has proved one thing. Tiger Woods is human. He makes mistakes just like the rest of us. So many are bashing him, when they too could have made the same mistakes. Any one of us could have. At the end of the day, we are all animals. We are all capable of this. It occurs in 70% of relationships.
Anyone in his position would have been vulnerable. Why is everyone bashing him verses the home-wreckers that seduced him? How could they not know that he was married? He is in fact, Tiger Woods. Granted, he shouldn’t have done those things. He should have had more character. But what about the ladies? What about the fact that they had no class or morals? It does indeed take two!
Obviously there are deeper issues beyond cheating. Cheating is typically a symptom of a troubled marriage. There are issues in the relationship long before it happens. And typically those issues are because of both people in the relationship. It takes two to make a relationship, and two to break it.
Perhaps everyone should picture themselves getting millions to do what they love, while always away from their family. While one is home taking care of the kids, the other is bringing home the bacon. Any relationship like that, will encounter problems and there will likely be adultery. It doesn’t matter who it is. And when relationships have issues, and peoples needs aren’t being met these kind of things happen. So lets let the family have a little privacy. Please?
So many of you have asked me what Flo looks like. So, reduce the brightness setting on your computer, here she is…
This picture was taken at Flo’s house with Kirsty’s camera. It’s an especially flattering one of Flo who had her head in a seed catalogue at the time.
As long as I’ve known her, Flo has experimented with all manner of hair colourants. This one’s called O’Hara Carotene but I think it really suits her. And I’m sure Flo wouldn’t mind me telling you that those are her own teeth although there’s more mercury in that mouth than you’ll find in half a dozen thermometers. Still, it’s not difficult to see why four husbands have found my best friend irresistible. I think she still has something to offer to the opposite sex; I’d like to think we both do.
Kondom wanita antiperkosaan adalah penemuan Sonette Ehlers, seorang wanita dari Afrika Selatan. Tujuannya adalah untuk mencegah perkosaan, di mana kondom tersebut menjepit penis penyerang, melukai dan membuatnya tidak berdaya.
Kondom wanita antiperkosaan
Alat ini berbentuk kantong dari latex yang diberi duri-duri logam mikroskopis yang menuju ke dalam, dan dipakai oleh seorang wanita dalam vaginanya seperti tampon. Apabila ia diserang dan mencoba memperkosa si pengguna lewat vagina, penisnya akan memasuki kantong latex tersebut dan tertusuk duri-duri, menyebabkan rasa sakit dan (diharapkan) memberi waktu untuk si korban melarikan diri.
Kondom wanita antiperkosaan
Kondom ini akan tetap melekat pada tubuh si penyerang dan hanya dapat dicabut dengan operasi kecil, dan dengan demikian akan terpaksa memanggil rumah sakit dan polisi.
Kondom wanita antiperkosaan
Selain itu berfungsi seperti kondom wanita biasa, mencegah kehamilan dan penularan penyakit menular. Kondom ini diperkenalkan di Afrika Selatan, di mana banyak kasus perkosaan terjadi.
Jika gadis remaja lainnya yang berusia 17 tahun sedang senang-senangnya menikmati masa remaja dengan sekolah dan bermain, maka lain halnya dengan Pamela Villarruel. Gadis remaja asal Leones, Argentina ini justru memiliki tujuh anak kandung di usianya yang masih sangat muda. ‘Tragis’nya lagi, ketujuh anak tersebut ia dapat dari tiga laki-laki yang berbeda.
Pamela adalah anak bungsu di antara enam bersaudara dari pasangan Jose dengan Magdalena. Sang ibu adalah seorang perawat di sebuah rumah sakit, sedangkan sang ayah cacat dan pengangguran. Mereka tinggal di Leones, sebuah kota pertanian yang berjarak sekitar 480 kilometer dari ibu kota Argentina, Buenos Aires.
Pamela mengalami empat kali kehamilan dan tiga kali melahirkan. Kehamilan pertama ia dapatkan saat ia berusia 13 tahun, namun bersama orang tuanya janin tersebut ia gugurkan saat masih berusi tiga bulan.
Rupanya Pamela tak pandai memetik pelajaran dari pengalaman pertamanya. Ketika usianya menginjak 14 tahun, ia bertemu dengan Miguel Gonzalez yang kala itu masih berusia 17 tahun. Mereka berpacaran terlampau bebas hingga akhirnya Pamela hamil lagi pada usia 14 tahun. Anak pertama yang ia beri nama Lisandro ini ia lahirkan pada Juni 2005. “Miguel masih bersama saya hingga saya melahirkan, setelah itu ia pergi meninggalkan saya bersama keluarganya pindah ke lain kota,” ujar Pamela kepada reuter.com.
Saat usinya menginjak usia 15 tahun, ia bertemu tambatan hati lain bernama Ariel Benitez. Mereka pun berpacaran. Lagi-lagi, Pamela berpacaran hingga kelewat batas hingga ia hamil dan melahirkan tiga anak kembar melalui bedah sesar pada Juli 2006. Ketiga anak perempuan ini ia beri nama Ludmila, Macarena, dan Candela. “Kehamilan serta kelahiran kembar tiga ini sangat menyulitkan Pamela,” ujar sang ibu.
Saat usianya menginjak 16 tahun, Pamela bertemu dengan Franco. Takut sang anak hamil lagi, sang ibu pun sempat meminta ijin pada hakim setempat untuk melakukan pemasangan alat kontrasepsi. “Ijin tersebut saya minta karena Pamela masih berusia dibawah 21 tahun,” ujarnya. Belum lagi ijin ia peroleh Pamela sudah keburu hamil lagi. Dan lagi-lagi, sang kekasih meninggalkannya begitu saja. Pamela melahirkan tiga anak kembar lagi lima hari sebelum ulang tahunnya yang ke 17. Ketiga bayi perempuan ini ia beri nama Martina, Morena dan Magali.
Pamela mengaku, meski sangat melelahkan tapi ia bahagia hidup dengan tujuh anaknya. “Banyak yang membantu saya, terutama ibu saya. Ia sangat berjasa pada saya,” ujarnya.
Selama beberapa kerabat serta tetangga bergantian membantu memberikan pakaian, makanan serta susu. Tak bisa dibayangkan, kini remaja berusia 17 tahun ini sibuk mengurusi anak-anaknya selama 24 jam penuh. Hampir tak ada waktu baginya untuk bermain dan merawat dirinya sendiri. “Saya sibuk mengurus keperluan anak-anak dari pukul 7 pagi hingga pukul 4 pagi. Setiap hari saya hanya punya waktu 2 jam untuk memejamkan mata sebentar,” ujarnya. Mungkin inilah ‘harga’ yang harus Pamela bayar untuk kecerobohannya dalam bergaul.
http://www.kaskus.us/showthread.php?t=3469595
Kecelakaan-Kecelakaan Mobil Paling Aneh
Ilmuwan Jepang Menciptakan Air Elastis
Fungsi Lain Laptop!Must See..
Rumah Unik Dari Bekas Kontainer Truk
Mengetahui Gol Darah Dari Cara Berkendara
10 Makhluk Aneh Penemuan Dr. Takeshi Yamada
Jalan Tol Yang Menembus Gedung Di Jepang
Fakta-Fakta Unik Tentang Nokia
Mangkok Mie Terbesar Di Dunia!!
Trik Menyelesaikan Rubik Dalam 6 Detik!!
Rekor-Rekor Dunia Bentuk Tubuh Unik Manusia
Pantatnya DiDepan??
Binatang-Binatang Berwarna Pink
Penemuan Jasad Peri Di Inggris!!
Ternyata Ada Yang Aneh Dengan Teks Proklamasi Kemerdekaan!!
*Recommended: Roland Lazenby writes about sex and sports (and the Lakers and Magic and Wilt) on Lakernoise. A fascinating read, and there’s even a local angle: “Hot Rod Hundley, a noted partier and ladies man, was the number one overall pick in the 1957 NBA draft, when he was selected by the Minnieapolis Lakers. Team owner Bob Short soon realized he had a real rounder on his hands. Hundley would head out to the bars almost every night to carouse and enjoy the secretaries and professional ladies of Minnesota.” [mefi]
*Fashion: The Rock Guitar Shirt is a functional guitar. OF SORTS. Careful readers may already know this, but I once learned the first three chords of Led Zeppelin’s “Tangerine” upside-down (Hendrix-style) on an 12-string guitar. [redferret]
*Words: Effing Typeface is not safe for work. It is a font of sorts. Or a typeface. I don’t know the difference and, in fact, will go to great lengths not to look it up. [mefi]
*Shirtlessness: View the entire (male) cast of “Jersey Shore” as photographed by Terry Richardson.
*Blogging: Kanye West, who was quite good at music blogging for a while there about a year ago, has started a new site. I will warn you that the first post has a mostly naked lady on it. So avoid at your own risk.
*Tips: Does anyone have any tips for better abs?
*Movies: They Shoot Pictures, Don’t They? is organizing the 1,000 greatest films of all time. Well, putting them in order. And adding contextual information. I’m sure you get it. Or will. [coudal]
sekarang banyak teenager amerika melakukan AEA masturbasi, caranya ada di film terbaru world greatest dad, yg maen robbin william.. http://www.slate.com/id/2219784/
David Carradine
Kung Fu bintang David Carradine telah ditemukan tewas di sebuah hotel di Bangkok hari Kamis. Polisi menemukan dia di dalam lemari dengan tali yang diikat di leher dan alat kelamin, menunjukkan bahwa ia sesak napas, ketika terlibat dalam permainan seks. Apakah ada yang aman, cara yang tepat untuk melakukan autoerotic sesak napas?
Tidak ada dokter-cara yang disetujui untuk mencekik diri sendiri saat berhubungan seks atau saat masturbasi. Memang, memotong oksigen ke otak tidak pernah merupakan ide bagus. Tetapi ada cara untuk membuat tindakan berbahaya ini sedikit lebih berbahaya: Lakukan dengan mitra terpercaya; mendirikan “safeword,” yang biasa digunakan dalam situasi perbudakan, untuk sinyal pasangan Anda untuk membiarkan Anda pergi; tidak menggunakan obat-obatan atau alkohol, yang bisa membuat ketegangan yang jauh lebih berisiko, dan, tentu saja, jangan mengikat tali sabuk atau terlalu ketat. Beberapa kematian oleh sesak napas terjadi hanya karena korban melarikan diri dibuat terlalu sulit-dalam satu kasus, seorang pria dicurangi sehingga dia akan membutuhkan pemotong baut untuk melepaskan rantai.
Autoerotic sesak napas, atau AEA, biasanya dilakukan dengan cara sebagai berikut: Seorang pria-sebagian besar adalah laki-laki-AEAers loop sabuk atau tali di lehernya, melekatkan ujung yang lain ke sebuah kenop pintu atau pipa, dan menurunkan dirinya ke dalam suspensi dikontrol. Seks atau masturbasi terjadi kemudian. Tekanan dari memotong sabuk aliran darah melalui pembuluh darah di leher, menyebabkan darah untuk berkumpul di otak. Penurunan kadar oksigen dan karbon dioksida meningkat, memproduksi ringan dan, untuk beberapa, mengintensifkan kenikmatan erotis.
Ketika kematian terjadi, biasanya karena tekanan pada leher bagian dari tubuh yang disebut carotid, sekelompok kecil chemoreceptors terletak dekat garpu dari arteri karotis. Tekanan pada tubuh karotis menyebabkan lelehan dari saraf vagus. Hal ini memperlambat jantung dan dapat membuat seseorang pingsan seketika. (Itu sebabnya karate chops dan menjepit saraf Vulcan menargetkan saraf vagus.) Kehilangan kesadaran menyebabkan orang untuk pergi lemas, yang mengencangkan dan menurunkan tersedak sirkulasi melalui arteri leher, menyebabkan sesak napas. Jarang apakah ada cukup tekanan untuk memblokir tenggorokan-agak, itu kurangnya aliran darah yang menyebabkan kematian.
Kau tak bisa menahan napas? Tentu, tapi itu tidak akan memiliki efek yang sama. Penelitian menunjukkan bahwa orang yang mempraktekkan AEA melakukannya karena risiko bermain-main dengan kematian-bukan hanya karena orgasme tanpa oksigen merasa baik. (Mayat korban AEA kadang-kadang memiliki bukti dari masokisme juga, seperti rokok luka bakar atau dimutilasi alat kelamin.)
Tercatat pertama kasus sesak napas itu autoerotic Frantisek Kotzwara, seorang komposer terkenal dari Praha yang meninggal di tahun 1791 ketika berhubungan seks dengan pelacur. (Dia diadili untuk pembunuhan dan dibebaskan.) Berpengaruh Vaughn Bode kartunis bawah tanah sesak napas sampai mati pada tahun 1975, menurut putranya. Stephen Milligan, seorang anggota Parlemen Inggris, itu ditemukan meninggal di rumahnya pada tahun 1994, telanjang kecuali untuk garter belt dan stocking perempuan, dicekik dengan kabel listrik. * Pada tahun 1997, seorang koroner yang disebut kematian penyanyi INXS Michael Hutchence bunuh diri , tapi pacarnya dan beberapa anggota keluarganya percaya bahwa ia meninggal dari AEA.
If you’ve ever listened to Lady GaGa’s song ‘Teeth’, you’ll understand when I say that song is the perfect soundtrack for this entry.
Rough sex.
Oh, I love love love it.
I try not to let myself get disturbed by the fact I enjoy being man-handled and thrown around like some helpless little slut. But, of course, it’s hard not to. As I said in my first entry, I’m very open and unashamed of my sexuality. But I have to admit that sometimes I feel guilty for enjoying rough sex. And I use the term loosely because I know everyone’s definition of ‘rough’ probably differs. I’m by no means on the extreme end of that definition, nor am I on the soft side either. I guess I’d lay somewhere in the middle, where rough sex to me equals lots of hard, hard spanking, hair-pulling, slapping and strangling. Yes, strangling. No, I’m not one of those people who is into erotic asphyxiation. I just like the feel of hands circling around my throat, giving me that exhilarating threat of violence…it makes me hot just thinking about it.
More than not, I’m in the mood to be abused. I don’t want the man to ask permission to do things. ‘Is this okay?’ ‘Do you want me to do this or that?’
Blah Blah BLAH.
Stop talking and just fuck me already.
Don’t be a bitch. I offered myself to you, so take it. Take what’s yours and fuck me like a man should fuck a woman. Use me. Grab me by the wrists and throw me down, digging me into the mattress so hard I can barely breath or scream. Rip my clothes off. Spank my ass so hard that the red hand mark left behind feels warm and sore for hours. Or use a belt, remind me how naughty I am. Bite my nipples. Tug on my hair until I’m crying out in half-pleasure, half-pain. Don’t make any apologies. Sometimes, I want you to just skip the foreplay and shamelessly ram yourself into me while I’m still tight and unprepared. I’m shocked and unready, whimpering because it feels fucking amazing to be filled but so incredibly tight, too tight. Dig your fingers into my flesh; my arms, my thighs, my ass. Spread my legs wide and just thrust into me with wild abandon.
I don’t mean to offend anyone when I state the obvious and say it’s safe to assume from the above that I love a good rape fantasy. And according to research, I’m not alone. Some studies have found up to 50% or more of women have at least occasionally had ‘rape fantasies’. The experts state there are a variety of reasons women tend to have rape fantasies– we enjoy being ‘irresistible’, fear is an aphrodisiac, or even the good old ‘guilt avoidance’ theory, to name a few. Honestly, I don’t have any desire to delve into my brain to hypothesize and scrutinize why I enjoy these things. I just do.
So back to the guilt. That tiny little voice in my head that’s always whispering….“Why do you like this? You are so naughty. You bad, bad, dirty little whore…”
Maybe that voice has a point. I am a naughty girl.
It’s a common male fantasy to be dating or married to a porn star. It just is. In the minds of most men this will equal sex on tap with a gorgeous and constantly horny wife who brings home one of her co-workers at least once a week so they can re-enact one fantasy or another. The reality seems to be rather different.
I was sent this article by a reader that details the issues between three couples were the female (obviously) is a porn star. The first relationship profiled is between Ryder Sky and her husband, Bill (you couldn’t make this up), is most interesting for our purposes. Bill has clearly become so emasculated by Ryder that I’m surprised it’s a “handblown glass dildo artfully displayed on their coffee table” rather than his testicles in a jar that is on show in their living room.
Firstly – just look at the poor bastard.
King of the Betas?
I realise that this is a staged “publicity” photograph for the article, but you can tell a lot from how the photographer chose to arrange them. He’s forlorn, laying backwards while his wife dominates on top of him. There’s no doubt about who is the dominant partner in this relationship. And that’s before we get into the hand placement. She’s guarding them - “this is mine”.
Reading the article through, Bill is potentially the most broken man in all of America. The article opens by telling us about their three year anniversary, about how they kept it “simple” (read: dull and no sex) by ordering pizza. It only gets worse:
It’s only when Bill thinks too hard about what his wife’s been doing in the year since she quit her job as an executive assistant to become a full-time porn star that things get difficult. Occasionally, he can’t keep from mulling over the fact that he’s home alone while she’s getting it on with another man. “Sometimes I think about it when she works late and I’m going to bed,” he says. “It’s not negative, though. It’s more like, eh . . . ” He trails off with a what-can-you-do groan.
Now, most of the cheating wives that I know do it secretly, with a little bit of shame at cuckolding their loving husbands. Ryder chose a profession, after she was married, where she’d be fucking other guys every day. Yet, of course, Bill stands by her and does his best not to think about it. Of course he does. He loves her. Or loved her, at least. Still, at least he gets to have sex with a porn star on a regular basis. That’s got to be fun. They probably do all kinds of kinky shit, and I bet she’s bringing her work home with her all the time.
And then there’s the fact that you don’t even get to have sex with her all that often—intercourse is off-limits before a shoot, and afterward she’s too tired and sore. Bill describes his sex life with Sky as vanilla; “We schedule sex,” he says.
Oh. Still at least she’s respectful of their relationship. You know, proudly proclaiming that she’s married and better than all the other cum dumpsters in porn. She’s not a career girl, but a family woman who happens to have sex for money. Guess again:
[What] bothers him [is] his wife’s habitually telling colleagues she’s “in a relationship” rather than married. “She hardly ever wears her wedding ring, even off-set,” Bill says. “Why be ashamed of being married?” Sky insists that it’s not a matter of shame. “I don’t want to get typecast as a MILF,” she says.
This couldn’t get any worse, until you read that Bill goes on porn websites to give positive reviews of his wife’s work. Or until you learn that she’s majoring in women’s studies.
Bill’s final thoughts sum up the mindset of betas everywhere. That the (self proclaimed) “vanilla” sex she has with him is better than the hard fucking she gets on set because:
“I don’t look at it as sex,” he says. “I look at it as a guy with his dick in my wife, but they’re working and it’s not emotional. She never orgasms in porn. That’s for us. If it happened on the set, it would be a little weird.”
Finally – his cry is the cry of betas everywhere. Bless them.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/cuppini/ / CC BY-NC-ND 2.0
[This is post is a reflection on Robert Wright's book The Moral Animal]
I.
Evolutionary psychology reveals that within us there are subterranean forces at work. Undetectable to the untrained eye, they have their own tectonic, inexorable logic. They are at work in animals and savages, too, for we are all, ultimately, the products of natural selection. We all cope with certain biological realities, most especially the fact that the burdens of child-bearing fall disproportionately on the female of the species. And we have all been equipped, if rather haphazardly, to seek our own reproductive advantage. We simply would not be here if we weren’t.
Beginning in the 1960s, a group of scientists led by George Williams, William Hamilton, and Robert Trivers began to show how complex social behaviors, including those of humans, might arise from the relatively simple imperatives of sex and survival. Just as complex behaviors and institutions might arise from the simple, short-sighted drives of economic actors—via the proverbial invisible hand—they might also arise from the simple, short-sighted drives of biological actors. The incentive is wealth in the one case, healthy offspring in the other.
We can now, it seems, explain such facts as these:
That step-children are more likely to be abused than biological children. (Since they won’t pass on your genes, there is simply less evolutionary incentive to treat them well.)
That men value sexual more than emotional fidelity, and vice versa for women. (Men can father children with many women concurrently, so their investment of parental affection is far more valuable than their sperm. But by the same token, men need to know that their parental affection is invested in their own offspring.)
That men are, at least in a certain way, generally more ambitious than women, and less willing to apologize or show weakness in front of peers–this is the old chestnut about men refusing to ask for directions. (They are programmed to compete with other males for relatively scarce females.)
That parents find the death of an adolescent more painful to imagine than the death of either an infant or full-grown child. (The adolescent is the doorstep of sexual maturity and so has more potentially productive years ahead of himself than the adult child, and since he is closer to fruition than the infant, more time and energy have been sunk into him.)
That women looking for a mate are often coy. (Her children will benefit from a father who will stick around.)
That sons tend to be more valued in high-status families, daughters in low-status families. (A high-status son can father many more offspring than a high-status daughter can conceivably birth. But low-status sons will need to compete with their high-status peers, who will claim more than their fair share of women. So it’s the low status daughters who stand a better chance of reproducing.)
The basic Darwinian framework is thus far more powerful than previously thought. It extends beyond our baser lusts for food and sex, to more elevated sentiments.
But what, really, are we to make of all this? That we are each more mercenary and self-interested than we let on? That we are, in effect, sleepwalking toward goals we are not even consciously aware of? Or that we are not really in control of our behavior, just along for the ride, hitched to our overeager gonads? Or that we are in control after all, but it’s just the lowdown, conniving part that’s in charge?
Some 150 years after Darwin’s The Descent of Man, we still don’t have any very good ways of grappling with our evolutionary history. It’s not that the science is somehow conceptually incoherent, as that we have yet to really wrap our animal minds around it. The failing is in us, not the theory. Science has a way of running ahead of us—look, for example, at quantum mechanics and general relativity. Increasingly, the best, most polished theories are too slippery for us to hold barehanded.
It’s tempting, then, to retrofit familiar concepts: you fall back on what you know. Intelligent design is out of the question of course, but perhaps the way to think about natural selection is as a designer, just a blind, brutish, slow working, and slightly ham-fisted one. You could also adapt the Freudian idiom and speak of a second, unconscious mind toiling away under the conscious one. Even if I’m not consciously sizing up every woman I meet as a sex partner, my biological unconscious is.
Either way, though, these are imperfect metaphors. You’re going to end up using a lot of quotation marks. You’re going to speak of natural selection ‘designing’ things of it ‘wanting’ us to reproduce. You’re going to speak of this second Darwinian mind ‘thinking’ and ‘desiring.’ As an example, consider this quote from Robert Wright:
If there’s one thing natural selection ‘wants’ us to believe, it’s that our individual happiness is special. This is the basic gyroscope it has built into us; by pursuing goals that promise to make us happy, we will maximize the proliferation of our genes (or, at least, would have stood a good chance of doing that in the ancestral environment).
But these quotation marks are just reminders that it’s not really ‘design’, that there isn’t literally a second mind in each us that ‘wants’ us to do things, but rather….something else, something like design and desire, but not.
At worst their worst, these metaphors can create new confusions and perpetuate old ones. We risk importing features of our retrofitted concepts into places they don’t belong. Throughout human history we have invested the designs of various divine creators with special, often mystical significance. With our vestigial language of design and creation, we risk doing the same again, just with a new, decidedly less mystical creator. Evolutionary psychology may in some sense reveal our hidden selves, but are those hidden selves the truer selves?
II.
Much of evolutionary psychology is probably not really about evolution at all, at least not in any special sense. No doubt we are all more self-interested than we let on, but it doesn’t take Darwinian theory to see this. It doesn’t take a theory at all, just an unflinching eye and an open mind. You simply have to realize that self-interest is a cunning, subtle thing that yes, sometimes overpowers our more disinterested sentiments but also shapes and shades them in more delicate ways. This is less a scientific discovery than a piece of folk wisdom.
We need to tread carefully here—there’s a major pitfall nearby. Though self-interest works through subtler channels than just mercenary calculation and blind lust, you might nevertheless shut your eyes to this and insist that mercenary calculation and blind lust are omnipresent after all, just below the surface, in some mysterious unconscious mind, the one ‘designed’ by natural selection.
Now there may be some deeper mind, but if there is you haven’t found it yet. At most you’ve discovered that the mind as we already know it is more complex than you once thought. This is still just psychology, not yet evolutionary psychology.
Things get evolutionary only when we start to trace the biological story of how our psychology got here. It’s with this task evolutionary psychology has been so helpful. How did we come to take such a powerful interest in the well-being of our children? How did we come to place such a high premium on friendship and loyalty to family? Well, to sum up a millennia-long story with a cast of millions, all these traits turned out to pay significant reproductive dividends.
So evolutionary psychology does two things, one psychological, one evolutionary. It helps illuminate certain easily overlooked aspects of our psychology, and it also tells a story about how that psychology got selected, about why it’s still around today.
But there’s another pitfall here, namely the thought that there’s some essential connection between the psychological insights and the evolutionary story. This is the thought that the evolutionary story reveals our emotional and mental habits for what they really are—tools for propagating our genes—and that the psychological insights flow from this core revelation. We are, on the psychological level, so self-interested precisely because natural selection works by selecting those traits which tend to maximize our self-interest. In being psychologically self-interested we are simply doing what natural selection tells us to.
This is a mistake because it combines two things that are really separate: what we might call, respectively, psychological and evolutionary self-interest. True, our psychological makeup has been selected by nature because it confers reproductive advantage. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that self-interest is a privileged feature of our psychology. Indeed, there are creatures, like ants and naked mole rats, who, to the extent that they have psychologies at all, seem to show no special concern for themselves. And yet we now know that this is all to their evolutionary advantage: altruism, like reproduction itself, can help others like you (i.e. your siblings and/or children) survive and propagate even if you don’t. It’s not so hard to imagine that if our reproductive biology had been different, closer to that of naked mole rats, natural selection might have made us into thoroughgoing altruists completely stripped of our psychological self-interest. Psychological and evolutionary self-interest are simply two different things.
Of course, this is not to deny that we are in fact highly self-interested and that natural selection has helped make us this way. Rather: first, natural selection has also produced our non-self-interested tendencies, and, second, no matter how self-interested we turn out to be, natural selection gives it no special aura. In no way does it make selfishness into a virtue.
We often think it does, though, when we let our metaphors run wild. We throw out the old, intelligent designer, but we simply put natural selection its place. Where we once bowed before the designs of an intelligent creator, we bow before the designs of a blind one. We think that if were designed to be self-interested then surely in some sense we ought to be self-interested. The problem, of course, is less with the identity of the creator than with the bowing to its intentions. Relatedly, we think that our self-interested impulses bubble up from some deeper, truer mind, the mind that has been built into us by natural selection. We think that when we feel self-interested not only are we furthering our survival, we are plugging in to the mind of Nature herself: what we want for ourselves she wants for us. But of course natural selection doesn’t really have a mind of its own; none of our thoughts, noble or base, has any special connection to its thoughts.
III.
How, then, does evolutionary psychology produce such important psychological insights if it doesn’t in some fundamental sense tell us what we are? Well, not all our insights are simply dictated to us by a theory. Thinking of ourselves from an evolutionary standpoint probably works a little like a cup of strong coffee or a splash of cold water to the face: it braces us, makes us sit up straight, clears away some of the mental cobwebs. It doesn’t produce the psychological insights directly, it simply clears space for them.
And in most of us space needs to be cleared. We cling to illusions as if by instinct. The evolutionary standpoint frees us to see with new eyes, at least temporarily. We have a tendency to go extremes, and the evolutionary standpoint helps to rein this in. For example, we fall into the trap of thinking that we are either blank slates or creatures of instinct, either blissed-out natural children or born schemers, either wholly Righteous or wholly Base. Evolutionary psychology helps puncture these simple pieties. And it can do this even it leads us into new illusions and excesses. Indeed, sometimes delusions are best fought with other delusions. Two errors don’t add up to a truth, but in the right conditions they can get you closer.
IV.
The big, hysteria-inducing problem with Darwinism is that it seems to debunk truth and morality. They become fundamentally nothing more than tools for acquiring food, sex, and status. We have perhaps learned to live with this problem but we haven’t really solved it. However, it will almost certainly help to give up the mistaken thought that our evolutionary origins tell us anything very deep about the essential nature of our hearts and minds.
My bed is covered yellow – Oh Sun, I sit on you
Oh golden field I lay on you
Oh money I dream of you
More, More, cried the bed – talk to me more -
Oh bed that taked the weight of the world -
all the lost dreams laid on you
Oh bed that grows no hair, that cannot be fucked
or can be fucked
Oh bed crumbs of all ages spiled on you
Oh yellow bed march to the sun whear yr journey will be done
Oh 50 lbs. of bed that takes 400 more lbs-
how strong you are
Oh bed, only for man & not for animals
yellow bed when will the animals have equal rights?
Oh 4 legged bed off the floor forever built
Oh yellow bed all the news of the world
lay on you at one time or another
Sunt curioasa cum ai reactiona daca ai sti adevarul despre mine. Sunt curioasa daca ai ramane sa imi asculti povestea pana la sfarsit.
Stii, ma gandeam sa te invit la un ceai si sa ma confesez.
Sa iti descriu in detaliu toate noptile in care mi’am daruit cele mai lungi orgasme. Si diminetile in care ma trezeam cuprinsa de un chef nebun de a face sex.
M-ai judeca daca ai afla ca imi dau drumul cu gandul la tine? As da orice sa iti vad expresia fetei cand ti’as spune ca ultimele 20 de filme vizionate se inscriu in categoria xxx’ed. Poti sa imi numesti pasiunile fetish’uri. Si invers. Si poti sa ma cataloghezi. Cu toate astea …
Te’ai speria cand te’as pune sa imi testezi limitele si sa ma ajuti sa le depasesc? Ai fugi de o femeie care are mai multe fantezii sexuale decat toti prietenii tai la un loc? Care stie pe de rost drumul spre orgasmul tau? Care te vrea oricand, oriunde, oricum?
Ce parere iti fac cand las privirirea in pamant si recunosc cu nonsalanta ca in loc sa scriu eseuri pentru facultate am recitit pentru a nu stiu cata oara: “Povestea lui O” ? Sau cand afli ca prefer sa termin “Istoria sexualitatii” in loc sa te termin pe tine?
Sunt si mai curioasa in ceea ce priveste generozitatea ta. M-ai imparti cu cel mai bun prieten sau doleanta mea ar fi un motiv bun de cearta?
Ai reusi sa stai deoparte cand o alta femeie ar fi deasupra mea?
Mi’ai sterge cu o palma zambetul de dupa orgasm, stiind ca vor urma altele si altele? Mi’ai sopti cat de mult iti place tot ce fac daca ar fi ultima noastra noapte? Probabil ca nu, probabil ca o femeie care cere mereu mai mult, mai tare, mai adanc, mai dur nu e tocmai ceea ce iti doresti. Ai folosi’o pentru o ora, o noapte, o saptamana. Ar fi sclava pe ai carei sani ai scuipa, dominatoarea care ti’ar lasa semne pe suflet, femeia care ti’ar indeplini fanteziile. Atat.
Whenever I’ve said to a married woman that I’ve been reading a book about a woman who, for her husband’s 40th birthday, gives him sex every day for a year, almost every one has said, “Don’t tell my husband about that!” Most say it lightheartedly, others with a degree of panic in their eyes, but whatever the motivation, 365 Nights has sparked their interest. (Thanks to Wendy for the recommendation.)
The first thing to say is that this is not a book about sex, really. There are no accounts of what they did, where they did it, how good it was, etc. In fact, the author prefers the term ‘intimacy’ to sex. And that’s where the emphasis of the whole book is – on the couple’s relationship, rather than on sexual technique.
In 365 Nights, Charla Muller, husband of Brad, working mother of 2, takes each month and the lessons she learns from having more sex with her husband and how that impacts on topics such as:
sharing the housework
their closeness
her body image
her self-esteem
how they view holidays and special occasions
Despite the month-by-month lessons, the book’s not particularly well structured. Arthur took one look at it and said, “It’s too chatty. You can read it and give me the summary.” So Charla jumps off into reflections about families of origin, decorating the house for Christmas, her experiences with depression, etc. Which is why I say that the book is more about their relationship than about sex.
The thing that I found most helpful was Charla’s reflections on why she didn’t want to have sex with her husband. She realised that the only person she was saying ‘no’ to was her husband! Everyone knows when you’re not teaching Sunday school or baking or doing a thousand other things and others’ expectations can be hard to deal with. But no one knows if you’re taking the time to connect and be intimate with your spouse, so because it’s unseen by most, it goes on the back burner. Charla makes the point that many women agree that sex in a marriage is a good idea, but because they are doing so many other things, there is simply no time or energy for it. So it’s a matter of choosing to the make the non-urgent, unseen relationship the priority over the pressing, public tasks.
I’d recommend this book for married women and I think that those with children will identify most with the author. But whatever your life stage, there is one big take home message: have more sex! (I’m pretty sure I’ve heard that somewhere before!) Even if it has to be scheduled; even if it’s not luxuriously long and romantic. Do it for your husband and do it because it’s about intimacy in your relationship. And be surprised by the benefits! Of course, the big question is: more sex might be OK, but is sex EVERY DAY sustainable? I’ll let you read it and find out!
As you probably know iTunes can be a pain when you have it on shuffle depending on your mind-set and totally screw you over by the order which songs come on in. But every now and then it works out to be a god send and plays a song to help you get out of an awful mood or a bad way you are feeling. Recently this has been no songs talking about love which I have very much skipped over at times. You then get a song which gives you hope and a new lease of life (maybe only until the next song clicks on it was one of them that remind you of someone you don’t want to think about). But for the time that song is on it works. Recently I even decided that creating a playlist of those type of songs would be a good idea (I still havent got round to that yet . . . )
Anyway yesterday the song that done that for me was “Bring on the Men” by Linda Eder from the Musical Jekyll and Hyde. Which I then listened to about 10 times in a row, it helped I decided it was going to be the new theme song to my life . . . yes I was just trying to fool myself more than anything but it did work for about half an hour. It’s actually quite a funny song as well as being a little slutty. But why shouldn’t women say bring on the men! Possibly because we will fall for whatever bullshit they decide to throw at us and become weak again . . . yeah thats probably why women could never truly be like men. Even the whole let’s have sex like a man never really seems to work. Some of the lyrics from this song “They break your heart they steal your soul take you apart and yet they somehow make you whole so whats their game” pretty much sums it all up. They do break your heart most of the time when you least expect it!
It’s another old cliché of can’t live with them, can’t live without them but they do drive you mad. I am too bitter at the moment to give them any credit and say they don’t realise what they do to us, as of course they do they just think that if they walk away or go away the hurt and pain will too. Erm no it really is not that simple! Don’t we all wish were Samantha Jones (Kim Cattrall) from Sex and the City, she really seems to have it made . . . but then again she did have a couple of downfalls as well when it came to men . . . so erm bring them on? Maybe?!?!
Bring on the Men Lyrics
There was a time
I don’t know when
I didn’t have much time for men
but this is now and that was then, I’m learningheart of stone
So I try not to make it known my yearning
I try to show I have no need
I really do, I don’t succeed always knew, I always said
a silk and lace in black and red
will drive a man right off his head, its easy
A girl alone, all on her own
must try to have a
so lets bring..on the men
and let the fun begin
a little touch of sin
why wait another minute
step this way its time for us to play
they say we may not pass this way again
so lets waste no more time
Bring on the men
I
So many men, so little time
I want them all, is that a crime (NO!)
I dont know why they say that I’m too easy
They make me laugh, they make me cry
they make me sick, so god knows why
we say bring on the men
and let the fun begin
a little touch of sin
why wait another minute
step this way its time for us to play
they say we may not pass this way again
so lets waste no more time
bring on the men
They break your heart
they steal your soul
take you apart
and yet they somehow make you whole
so whats their game
I suppose a rose by any other name
the perfume and the pricks the same
I like to have a man for breakfast each day
I’m very social and I like it that way
by late mid-morning I need something to munch
so I ask over 2 men for lunch
This year, I’m a proud sponsor of the Good For Her Feminist Porn Awards! To be exact, “better than chocolate” will be featured at the dessert buffet as we are the Diamond Hospitality Sponsor! Sweet Pleasures is our business, how good is that? 
Today didn’t go so well. I had to call them to come back because I felt so unwell. They were over an hour away from home at the time, and they missed my first phone call. Apparently I sound drugged today, that doesn’t particularly surprise me, that’s precisely how I feel. I don’t really remember what was said on the phone, apart from that they were coming back and not to leave the key in the door. I have been lying down or asleep for the most part of today, I don’t seem to be able to stay awake for long enough to complete anything worth doing or do anything at all productive.
It hit me last night that no matter what I do I will always be sick. Hospital and doctors trips have become the norm. I’m familiar with the inside of ambulances and the hospital staff now. I am afraid of getting worse, my heart failing on me and my lungs deciding enough is enough. I am afraid of my immune system admitting defeat. I cannot pretend that I am not afraid when I have to keep going back to clinics, or to see my surgeon, or for testing. This is not the way I meant my life to be. I would honestly do anything to stay healthy for a whole year, although I know it’s unobtainable, I am willing to try. I was having horrific flashbacks to hospital last year, when they asked if I tried to kill myself, when my blood results came back, when they told me there was something wrong with my heart. All of the terrifying memories you wish could stay restricted within the ward, restrained to the bed and unable to inflict harm upon themselves or another human being. Part of me wishes that I could have ended it all back then, part of me is still spending hours on end contemplating the best methods of suicide with the highest mortality rates. I guess what I should be saying is that I do not want people holding onto me any more, or asking me why I feel this way. I just want to become invisible and fade into the background. I never asked to be born, and I never wanted my life to turn out like this. I am so sorry.
I pray that tomorrow I feel a little better, or the antidepressants start to work, or everything begins to lift, because if it doesn’t I honestly do not know what I am going to do with myself. Nothing seems to be doing anything apart from getting worse, and hurting me more. I guess that tomorrow is a whole new day, but I am always making judgements about the future by looking at the past. As today hasn’t been a good day, why should tomorrow be any better? I mean, sure. If I keep doing/feeling the same thing I will keep getting the same thing, but I just don’t have the energy to make any changes.
She is really playing with my head, I do not know why. She makes me want to turn around and say, “Hey, your ex boyfriend did more with me than he will ever do with you. Grow up and fix your priorities, you’re not getting him back. How dare you point such accusations at me.” You’re turning me into the whore, as always. I will not stoop down to your level, he deserves so much better than you, he always did and he always will. I wish I could erase you from my life completely, I never want to hear another word from you. I do not care what your turn ons and turn offs are, I do not care what you did with him back in ‘09. That’s old news. Grow up and learn that sleeping around will now earn you respect. Don’t even think about pulling me down with you. I have my reasoning for what I have done. Get out of my life, and his life.
As is evident from the above, Reve combines the high rhetoric of the Bible with the banal and carnal, using capital letters in an ironic manner.”
This entire story breaks my heart. As if the family isn’t enduring enough pain already. This scandal has proved one thing. Tiger Woods is human. He makes mistakes just like the rest of us. So many are bashing him, when they too could have made the same mistakes. Any one of us could have. At the end of the day, we are all animals. We are all capable of this. It occurs in 70% of relationships.
So many of you have asked me what Flo looks like. So, reduce the brightness setting on your computer, here she is…
http://www.flickr.com/photos/cuppini/ / CC BY-NC-ND 2.0