About sex

For Those of You Watching in Black in White...

2010-03-23T09:29:00.000+02:00

Dear old Harry Carpenter. When yesterday I heard of his demise, I immediately thought that he’d died years ago, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t sad to hear the news. Another part of my childhood snuffs it. Carpenter’s voice was ever-present in our house, commentating as he did on Ali fights (later becoming Frank Bruno’s straight man), presenting the BBC’s coverage of golf, the tennis (it was only Wimbledon in those days) and the Boat Race. He had one of those friendly, comforting faces who instantly made you feel all warm inside. A bit like Frank Bough without the bondage and coke. Harry also had one on those faces which, like that of Michael Fish and James Burke, never looked how you expected it to look.

So, as I like to honour my boyhood heroes on these pages, I went off to find something suitable to pay tribute to Harry. Where better to start than the bored office-worker’s favourite site, Youtube?

Perhaps someone would have compiled a few minutes of classic Harry quotes? “Oh my god he’s won back the title at the age of 32″ stands out in the memory (Ali beats Foreman). “Get in their, Frank!” (Bruno hurts Tyson before being demolished) is another. Indeed those and more were there to watch and enjoy, but I stumbled across this:

Come on, admit it, that felt good, didn’t it? Yes I know it didn’t include much of Harry, but sod that. When was the last time you heard the Sportsnight music? When I played that this afternoon I felt a warm glow all over me. Memories came flooding back: Harry Carpenter, David Coleman, staying up late on a school night, the BBC actually having some sport to show. This was when Sue Barker was half decent at what she was paid to do, Nick Faldo was still on his first wife, most of still had black and white televisions and there were just 3 channels on TV. THREE CHANNELS (we pause here for my American friends to stop giggling). Sport on tv in the 70’s and 80’s was something to be treasured cos there wasn’t much of it, and what there was had to share what little bit of airtime there was on offer with other sports, all vying to be seen.

Sportsnight lasted about an hour on a Wednesday night, it’s sister show Grandstand had a 5 hour slot on Saturday afternoons. Fabulous if you loved sport, less so if you didn’t. What we now call narrow band-width meant there was no space for continuous broadcasts. The cricket would share air-time with horse racing and snooker. How did we put up with it? Every half hour we’d have to leave the test match at Lord’s to endure the 3.20 from Haydock, or the final frames of Doug Mountjoy vrs Kirk Stevens. Still at least on the BBC didn’t have adverts, unlike it’s rival over on ITV.

And it had Des Lynham.

ITV’s answer to Grandstand was World of Sport presented by the amiable and skunk-haired Dickie Davies. As I was on my nostalgia quest, I went to look for the theme tune.

I don’t know anyone who admitted to watching it, or at least not regularly, but now wish I had. Just look at this!:

Wow!! All-in wrestling, dog frisbee and log-walking. AND Eric Morecabe !! What a show. What a way to spend your Saturday afternoons. All that plus that haunting middle-eight bars of whistling in the opening music. Maybe I’d misjudged the commercial channel. Had I been too harsh on them ? As the Soviets did to Trotsky, I’d erased all traces of ITV from my childhood memories. So I delved deeper. On to the football highlights.

Everybody quotes tales of trying to watch Match of the Day while your they were supposed to be paying fond attention to the girlfriend, but no-one ever talks about fumblings on the sofa on a Sunday afternoon being interrupted when this came on:

Nobby Stiles, Ossie Ardiles and Butch Wilkins with hair!! IT WAS THAT LONG AGO !!. And those shorts must have chafed a bit.

I was hooked. GOD, I love Youtube. Where to next?

Now hang on a minute: Get a grip, man, it’s just nostalgia. Worse! It’s nostalgia for ITV shows. Pull yourself together.

Now where were we? Ah yes, football. Now this takes me back, the Beeb’s finest hour. Everybody remembers Italia 90, when we all got behind the English Team’s ultimately futile campaign (apart from the Jocks who got behind the West Germans. They deserve each other). Of all the superb concerts Pavarotti gave, in all the great Opera houses and concert halls of the world, this is what made him a star to millions in the UK.

I’m sorry, Auntie, I’ll never doubt you again. This was the last era when the BBC and especially the Sports Dept reigned supreme. A golden age. A time when their sports presenters and commentators were household names: Harry, Coleman, Lynham, Eddie Wareing, Richie Benaud, Peter O’Sullivan, Barry Davies (“and where were the Germans? and quite frankly, who cares?”), Ted Lowe, David Vine, Raymond Brooks-Ward (“come on David“) Bill McLaren and Dan Maskell. These are the voices, the sources of all knowledge of my youth, (even Tony Gubba who never actually went to a match but commentated on the highlights from a studio hours later).

Will the bloggers of the future be waxing lyrical over the opening titles to Sky’s Soccer AM or Ford Football Special ? Will they be posting clips from Superleague XIII ? I doubt it. They’ll be seeking out tapes of Booker T and the MGs playing Soul Limbo to herald BBC Cricket, or the theme to Pot Black or Formula 1 motor racing (knowing my luck they’re still be showing it).

So sorry, not much about Mr Carpenter in this one. I just got carried away with the music and the memories. Know what I mean, Harry?

[Via http://sharpsingle.com]

Fox News Splits Screen, Shows Teabagger Protests During Stupak ...

Man accuses wife of giving dowry

2010-03-23T01:53:00.000+02:00

Man accuses wife of giving dowry

Rashi Agarwal

Tribune News Service

New Delhi, March 19

A Delhi court today ordered a station house officer of the Delhi police to file an FIR against a woman, Pooja Saxena, and her parents for allegedly giving dowry to her husband, Sameer Saxena. The court has also directed the police officials concerned to investigate the case.

The order came after Sameer, through his counsel, Gaganpreet Singh, moved the court of additional chief metropolitan magistrate, Sanjay Bansal, against his wife and her parents.

The husband has an FIR registered against him by his wife under various sections relating to cruelty against her and criminal breach of trust.

In the FIR the wife has stated that a huge amount of dowry was given to Sameer’s family at the time of their marriage. She also alleged that demands were made by her husband and in-laws.

However, Pooja’s complaint created problems for her also, as Sameer’s counsel, based on Pooja’s complaint, submitted that “if dowry was given to Sameer’s family, Pooja and her parents are also guilty under the Dowry Prohibition Act.”

He referred to a Delhi High Court judgment given in a similar case where the court ruled, “A girl and her parents also become accomplices in dowry cases and action should be taken against them also.” He also refereed to a circular issued by the commissioner of police, Delhi, wherein directions have been issued to lodge cases against the girl and her parents if allegations regarding giving dowry are made and if the girl is well-educated.

The cour said, “In my view, at this stage, it appears that the accused are also accomplices under Section 3 of the Dowry Prohibition Act.”

Link here :

http://www.tribuneindia.com/2010/20100320/delhi.htm#8

[Via http://want2change.wordpress.com]

WebMediaBrands' Latest Acquisition: Social Media News And Tips ...

Famous 70's Porn Stars.

2010-03-21T09:33:00.000+02:00

In today’s society, the adult entertainment industry is one of the most flourishing industries in the country. Before there was the Jenna Jamison’s of the world and multiple websites for every fetish known to man, there was a group of leading ladies that paved the way for the today’s generation of starlets to take our viewing pleasure to the next level. This group of ladies probably can be found in a box of VHS tapes hidden in the back of your father’s closet. We decided to pay tribute to the original leading ladies of the adult entertainment industry.

Linda Lovelace

Notable Movies: Deep Throat (1972), Deep Throat Part II (1974), and Exotic French Fantasies (1974)

Linda Lovelace is widely considered the original porn star and starred as the lead role in one of the most well known original adult films, Deep Throat. She was ahead of her time and other leading ladies in the industry when she became the first woman to appear on screen with a completely shaved southern region and engage in backdoor activities on screen. Deep Throat was her only hardcore pornographic movie as she attempted to transition into the softcore and film industry soon after that movie. In the early 80’s, she also become an activist against the same pornography that made her famous.

Marilyn Chambers

Notable Movies: Behind the Green Door (1972), Never a Tender Moment (1979) and Insatiable (1980)

Marilyn Chambers was known as the original adult starlet actually able to earn a substantial amount of money in the porn industry. She is considered to be one the key actresses to pave the wave for generations after her to make a living from the adult film industry. Chambers was also the first known starlet to have a pierced southern region. Decades later, she has kept in front of the cameras by appearing in popular adult web sites engaging in roles as a “milf” or a “cougar.”

Ginger Lynn

Notable Movies: Surrender in Paradise (1983), Ten Little Maiden’s (1985), and Ginger Lynn: America’s Sweetheart (1992).

Ginger Lynn was one of the most recognizable faces in the adult industry in the early 80’s. She was well known in her movies for taking on two men at the same time and often had at least one scene per movie in which she was with another woman. She transitioned out of the adult industry in an attempt to establish a legitimate acting career and has since landed small roles in few movies.

Vanessa del Rio

Notable Movies: China Doll (1974), Forbidden Ways (1976), and Co-Ed Fever (1980)

Vanessa del Rio was known as the first adult star of Latin descent. Her most obvious attribute that made her famous was an extremely large hood that stuck on the screen. She was also known as the queen of the back door for her commitment to extended sessions in the rear entrance. Additionally, she was known for getting paid for her performances off the camera and charging large sums of money for this “off screen work.” She has appeared in a few hundred adult films over the course of her career.

Seka

Notable Movies: Dracula Sucks (1978), Teenage Desires (1978), Blond Heat (1985)

Seka was one of first true superstars in the adult entertainment industry. After viewing adult films, she determined that she could give a better performance on screen than anyone else she had seen. She followed suit by engaging in sexual acts with the most popular men in the industry in the early 1980’s. She left the industry in the late 80’s due to a combination of the AIDS scare and the ability to generate a better income stream performing at men’s entrainment clubs across the United States.

from http://www.muffslap.com/famous-1970s-porn-stars/

[Via http://melissadesa.wordpress.com]

Stabroek News - Windies A to tour England in hectic schedule

Sexy Julia Ann (Porn actress) showing her boobs

2010-03-21T01:11:00.000+02:00

[Via http://gnkfun.wordpress.com]

Hot Air » Blog Archive » Fox News whip count: 212-219; Uh oh ...

My first black pussy

2010-03-20T09:31:00.000+02:00

Checking out attractive women was the last thing I expected to find myself doing at work that day. After months of struggling with both physical and emotional love, I was finally in the relationship I’d pined for. I was together with the perfect woman, the girl of my dreams, and things couldn’t have been better. I wasn’t looking to shop around for girls anymore. I was only 18, but already I felt like the big search of my life was over. A coworker of mine had even mentioned something to me after a couple cute girls walked by us and I didn’t even acknowledge them.

But there was something about this girl Gracie that caught my eye. I worked as a mover, helping people load or unload all their stuff. Jim, a guy I went to high school with, was my new coworker who went with me on the bigger jobs, the shit you do when your in college and trying to make ends meet. We were at this woman Gracie’s house to unpack her huge U-Haul. She’d just moved from elsewhere in the state, and as is sometimes the case, she was very talkative with us since she didn’t know anyone and wanted to know more about the town.

Gracie had a body that would’ve caught most guys’ attention. She was average height, but had a nice big ass and a huge chest. She was neither a big nor a little girl, but she was built surprisingly solid–the kind of girl who could win Prom Queen but who also might have tried out for the boys football team and made it–and she carried herself with undeniable confidence. It wasn’t a surprise that a body like that caught my attention. What did surprise me about my interest, though, was that Gracie was black.

I don’t have anything against black girls, but I’m a white guy from a white family from a white neighborhood. I’ve only dated white girls, and since my school was predominantly white, I’d never had any close black friends. As far as black girls were concerned, I’d never had an interest, sexually. But when I first saw Gracie when she opened the door to greet Jim and I, even before I saw the great curves of her body, I felt a strong, instant attraction.

As the afternoon wore on, this attraction was something I just couldn’t shake. Every chance I got to sneak a peak at Gracie, whether it was the sight of her tight jeans hugging her ass or just her dark eyes with the long, black lashes, I had to take it. I actually stumbled a few times as I tried to check out her cleavage and imagined what her nipples would look like. In just a couple hours, I felt more than single again. I felt like I was on the hunt.

“So where’s your boyfriend?” I asked kiddingly. Gracie was also a very personable woman, so she was okay with personal questions like that.

“Oh, I’ve had enough of men,” she said half-seriously. “You men need to get together and regroup. Try and figure out what you’re doing and what your priorities are.”

“That mean you’re batting for the other team now?” I joked.

Gracie laughed. “Ok, I’m not that sick of men. I just need to lay low and take it easy for a while.” She smiled big. “I hope that didn’t just crush all your hopes and dreams.”

“Ah, Gracie,” I smiled back. “You couldn’t handle me.” I couldn’t believe what I was saying. I was never this forward, especially at work and with a client.

“I don’t doubt it!” Gracie shot back. “You men are all too crazy for me to handle any of you! You lie and you’re messy and all you ever pay attention to is the damn TV and ESPN.”

“I wasn’t talking about that,” I laughed.

Gracie stopped, put her hands on her hips, and smiled at me. “Oh then what were you talking about?”

I had ideas of what to say, but none were playful enough for the conversation, and none were subtle enough to keep me from getting sued or fired. “I gotta get back out to the truck,” I smiled, then escaped outside for more boxes.

A few more box loads later, I was carrying the headboard of Gracie’s bed while she went through a box of clothes in the bedroom. She was leaned over, and I could see the top of her red panties peeking out from under her pants. Distracted, I tripped on the carpet and half fell as I set the headboard on the floor. Gracie reached out to help me just in case I needed it, which I didn’t, but I appreciated the feel of her fingers against the goose bumped flesh on my arm.

“Man says I couldn’t handle him. He can’t even handle my headboard,” she joked to herself out loud.

Me being 18 and her being at least 26 or so made me feel good about her referring to me as “man”, even though she was kind of making fun of me.

“Is that a challenge?” I asked with a smile.

This time my response did get a surprise reaction from Gracie, though her grin told me she was cool about it.

“Oh, you! Boy,” she laughed to me, “Those are adult-only games you’re talking about.”

“So you’re not going to give me a chance? You afraid I’ll win?”

“No!” she laughed. “Cause I can’t lose. If you win, I win. I’m just afraid you’ll be wasting my time. That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Oh, that hurts, Gracie,” I said, faking offense. “What have I ever done to deserve that?”

“Exactly! What have you done? You look too scrawny to have even been with a girl.”

Ok, I thought. So I was losing the “man” image. But this was still fun and not at all off-putting. The fact that the conversation was getting more and more risqué kept my spirits up. Besides that, I knew she was merely reaching for insults by calling my scrawny. I wasn’t a big guy, but years of manual labor had kept me in pretty decent shape, and everyone I met said I looked older than I was. But Gracie must have worried that I’d really taken some offense, so she was quick to switch gears.

“You have a girl?”

“Yeah,” I said. But for that brief instant, I couldn’t even remember what Alana looked like.

“How many?”

“Right now?” I laughed.

“Oh, you talk pretty big. No, not right now. How many girls have you been with?”

It didn’t seem right to just answer the question with a hard number. That wouldn’t have been fun enough.

“How many guys have taken on that head board?” I responded.

We both laughed.

“She white?”

“My girl?”

“Yeah. Your girl.”

“Yeah.”

“What about the last girl? Was she white?”

I pretended to think back. “Yeah.”

“You ever been with a sister?”

“No.”

“So you’re telling me you’ve only been with white girls and you think you can talk to me like I’m the one who can’t handle it? Let me tell you something Mike. You’re still a virgin as far as I’m concerned. No, you ain’t even a virgin. You’re still learning about how to be a virgin. And my head board? You take that on and it’ll kill you. Blow your mind.”

“I wasn’t talking about my mind being blown.”

Even I had to admit that had taken things too far. Gracie’s eyes went wide with shock, and then she looked embarrassed, she was speechless, and though she still smiled and it seemed genuine, she looked down and only softly whispered her next words.

“Ok then.”

And then she went back to sorting through her clothes.

“Hey,” I started to say, not sure what I was going to say next. But she stopped me.

“You, boy, don’t know what you’re dealing with. You just better get that cute little ass of yours back to the truck and get the rest of my bed. You’re gonna put it together, right?”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

“Well that’s a start.”

There were a lot of mixed signals in that last exchange, and I pondered over it as I did as she told me. Maybe I had gone too far with the ‘blow’ line, but she still commented on my ass. And then this business with the bed, what was that about? Whatever it all meant, she was still being fun and friendly, and I didn’t feel like I’d talked myself into a corner even if that was exactly what I’d done.

I caught up with Jim, who was still loading the bulk of the boxes and things into the living room. I told him that Gracie wanted the bed next, so we did some rearranging in the truck to get it, grabbed the rest of the pieces, then took the mattress in together.

Gracie stood back as we brought the mattress in and leaned it against the wall.

“Okay,” I said after Jim left. “Where do you want the bed?”

“No more funny guy, huh?” she asked. “Now it’s all business. ‘Where’s the bed go?’ Looks like somebody realized they were in over their head.”

“I’d sure like to be,” I replied, “But somebody in this room is all talk. Saying I can’t handle things because they’re afraid I just might.”

“Oh please, boy.”

“I’m not a boy.”

“Oh, you’re all boys.”

“Maybe from your experience. Maybe that’s why you think so highly of yourself. You say I’m nothing because I’ve only been with white girls, but I say you don’t know what you’re talking about because you’ve never been with a real man.”

Gracie’s smile was huge, but I could tell she was trying to hide her excitement. “Is that what you think you are?”

“I’ll do more than think it.”

“So you’ll say it, then?”

“I’ll show you.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so because you don’t think I’m right, or because you’re too scared I might prove it?”

Gracie blushed. “You got a real mouth on you.”

“And how would you like to get this ‘real mouth’ on you?”

A long silence followed. We stared at each other.

Finally Gracie said to me, “Shut that door.”

Suddenly I was very nervous. The fun conversation had come so naturally, possibly because it was so unexpected. But the tone of Gracie’s voice when she told me to shut the door told me something big was about to happen. Her smile was still there, but much of it had given way to a more serious expression. Was it anger, or something else?

Gracie put her hands on her hips and looked at me expectantly. I approached her. When we were close, she reached for me.

“Give me your hand,” she said while taking me roughly by the wrist. She forced my hand up and against one of her huge breasts. It felt lighter than it looked, but it also filled my hand more than I expected it to. When I squeezed my fingers, I was not gripping the entire end of her tit like I thought I would. Just part of it. She lifted my hand, in turn lifting her breast. Through both her bra and her shirt, I could feel her nipple harden.

“You feel that?” she asked. “That’s a real woman. You really think you can handle a real woman, Mike?”

I thought of my girl, Alana. I hadn’t planned on ever cheating on her. But we had agreed that we wouldn’t remain exclusive. I never worried about it, though, because I never thought I’d be tempted to go elsewhere. Yet here I was, with a woman I could not say no to, didn’t want to say no to, and she just happened to come from a fantasy I’d never known I had.

A black girl. Imagine that.

Never had I desired a black girl before. On the other hand, I’d never been against it either. The possibility had just never come up. And now that it had, I didn’t just want it. I fucking needed it.

There was a stirring in my pants. A stirring that, had Gracie been white, might have already been a full-fledged hard-on. But this situation was so new and unexpected. It wasn’t that I was less turned on. I was simply overcome by more then mere lust, and so the erection took longer to become full.

“Cat got your tongue?” she asked.

I thought for a moment of what to say, wanting playful but achieving corny. “Does your cat want my tongue?” Cheesy to be sure, but it sounded much hotter in the heat of the moment. And Gracie didn’t seem to care about how I said it, but was more interested in what, exactly, I was really saying.

“My cat? You mean ‘pussy’?” She pulled my hand from her chest and drew it down her tummy, then tucked it deep between her thighs. She had me cupping her crotch before I could even hope for it, feeling her already intense heat there. “You mean this?”

I pressed my hand hard against her cunt. Our eyes were locked.

“You really think you can handle that?”

I reached around and put my other hand on her ass, squeezing her tight and pulling her to me. “How about we find out?”

She didn’t lean in to kiss me, so I tried an alternate route. Taking my hand from her ass, I reached for her shirt and began to undo the buttons. A lot of her cleavage had already been showing, so with even just a couple buttons more, I had revealed her bra and a generous portion of her magnificent bust. She looked down, watching me undress her.

“I don’t…” she began, but trailed off as we both watched her breasts, overflowing a red bra that matched her panties, spill into view. In a whisper, she continued. “I don’t fuck…” she said, then looking up to meet my eyes, finished, “…white boys.” But her eyes told me I had nothing to worry about.

“You will,” I said. And then I bent down and began kissing wetly at her neck. With her shirt hanging fully open, I slid my hands over her tummy, around her sides, and to her back, where my fingers met at the clasp holding her bra together. Her skin tasted so delicious that I didn’t even realized I’d unhooked the bra on the very first attempt, and so I kept fumbling.

“What about your friend?” she asked breathlessly.

“I don’t think so,” I said between licks and kisses at the nape of her neck and on her collarbone. “I want you all to myself.”

Gracie laughed nervously. But then she shook her shoulders, helping her bra fall off her breasts. I kissed my way down to her cleavage, then licked her there, over and over. She arched her back, thrusting her chest out to me. With my face planted firmly between them, I grabbed each great boob with my hands and held them against the sides of my head, wrapping myself in tit. I licked and slobbered the skin between them, felt my saliva dripping down her dark, black skin.

I felt her hands on the top of my head, her fingers pushing through my hair, massaging me. Her nipples felt huge and rock hard against my palms. I pinched and flicked them, then grabbed passionate hand-fulls of her chest, squeezing, rubbing them against my face. I licked them at first, but when I pulled back far enough to actually get my first good look at Gracie’s beautiful naked brown chest with the midnight-colored nipples, I couldn’t hold back any longer. I dove in and sucked them, wrapping my lips around the nipples and areola, opening my mouth wide and taking as much in as I could, gnawing on them, chewing them, drooling all over them and rubbing them against my whole face.

I felt her hard nipples poke at and spring off of my nose, forehead, and eyelids. I caught the nipples with my teeth and flicked the tips with my tongue, then went back to sucking her tits vigorously. Gracie gripped me by my ears, half leading me and half following, as I made love to her full, dark chest.

Though our knees were quivering, we both fought to keep standing. And though we both wanted nothing more then to rip each other’s clothes off and go for it all, Gracie and I shared a mutual concern: Jim, my coworker, really could make a mess of things if he walked in. There was no reason for him not to just open the bedroom door, which wasn’t equipped with a lock, at any moment since he knew I was in her already. If he did that Gracie would surely be embarrassed. But I knew Jim, and I knew that was the last thing to worry about. Jim was a horny, crude guy. Him finding out about this would become a very uncomfortable situation.

Somehow, despite our lust, we had to maintain some measure of control. Just in case.

Gracie having her shirt open was dangerous enough, but it was a quick fix if Jim did come in. I could stand in front of her, or she could turn around. Not wearing pants wouldn’t be something we could hide, though.

That was why I kept Gracie’s pants on and even fastened as I slipped my hand under her waist, into her panties, and felt the intense heat and wetness of her bush.

“What are you going to do down there?”

Her voice cut short as I curled and slipped my middle finger right up inside of her. She put one arm around me, then lifted a leg and did the same. We were as close as two standing, full clothed, non-fucking people could be. I could feel her hot breath beating against my neck. I could see the glistening wetness of her full, pink lips. Gracie looked from my eyes, to my mouth, and back to my eyes. We kissed. It was very hard and wet and passionate, our lips locking, our tongues coiling and flexing, our faces turning restlessly.

With her free hand, Gracie reached down into my pants and grabbed my hard, hot cock. Because of the constriction of my jeans, my cock, though hard, had been guided down my leg, and there wasn’t enough give in my pants for her to pull it up where we both wanted it to be. She jerked me anyway, holding me tight but pumping me slow.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Gracie gasped, but her voice gave her true passion away. She was at least as turned on as I was.

Rather then reply with a witty comeback, I pushed my finger deeper inside her. She gasped, rose to her tip toes, then sunk against me, burying her face in my neck and licking it all over.

“Take off your pants,” she breathed desperately. Though her grip on me was still awkward, her hand jerked faster on my erection. “Oh, fuck,” she said, for the first time sounding genuinely disappointed. “No. We can’t. God, why did I have to order two of you guys?”

We kissed again. Her mouth tasted at least as good as her skin did. I hoped to find that her pussy tasted even better.

“What about the bathroom?”

She shook her head. “If he looks for us, he’ll know.”

I thought of saying “who cares”, but even if that convinced her, it wouldn’t convince me. Jim would tease us through a closed door, or he’d insist on watching, or persistently suggest he join. No, Jim would ruin this if he even suspecting something was up.

Gracie unbuttoned her own pants and unzipped them, giving me a greater range of motion as I slipped a second finger deep into her throbbing pussy, but also making our disposition that much harder to cover up if we needed to.

“Can’t you send him to lunch?” she asked.

“We ate before we got here,” I said before dipping down and licking at the tops of her brown tits. “He’s new. He’ll suspect something if I send him away alone.”

“Then can’t you just kill him?”

I should have laughed. I’m sure she expected me to. But my body responded in a way that surprised even me. I kissed her hard on the mouth, pulled my hand from her pussy, and hugged her tight as I pushed her back, toward the mattress that was leaning against the wall. As soon as she hit it, I tugged her loosely hanging bra down as I helped her off with her shirt. The garments tangled as we worked together to tear them off.

Once she was topless, the frenzied kissing continued, but the point of no return hadn’t come yet. Gracie was still timid about being caught, and I knew she was right to be.

“I can’t do this,” she said with frustration and fear between licks and kisses of lust. “I need a shirt.” She pointed to the box of clothes she’d been going through earlier. “Grab me something. Anything.”

I pulled away as directed, which took my hand from her pussy. Gracie gasped as my fingers left her. I grabbed whatever garment was on top in the box and held it up to present to her. It was a simple white t-shirt with a pocket and some restaurant logo on the back. I helped her slip it on. I knew she wanted to be naked just as much as I did, but we had to be able to get composed quickly if Jim came around. At least she was without the bra…

The t-shirt went on, but was never pulled down over her tits. Instead, Gracie put her arms through the sleeves and her head through the neck hole, but kept the rest of the shirt bunched up and resting on top of her huge rack. If Jim did come by, all she would have to do is pull it down. Although, from the look of how the very top portion fit her, I imagined the shirt was from her younger years, and that it would look beyond skin-tight if she actually tried wearing it. And if nothing else, Jim would definitely notice that.But for the moment I just hoped things didn’t come to that.

Taking advantage of her unfastened pants, I slid both of my hands down into her panties as I came back to kissing her, and I reached around and grabbed a fat but firm ass cheek in each hand. I dug my fingers deep into her flesh, squeezing her and unknowingly furthering the slack of her pant waist. Before I knew it, her jeans had slipped down from her hips, and when I stopped mauling her juicy lips and tongue and looked down, I could see the black skin of her thighs contrasting against the bright red panties with the wet spot in the center of them.

Now she was fumbling to undo my jeans.

“Get that thing out here,” she demanded. “You better be worth it,” she spat, trying to sound tough, but I knew she was only covering for how out of control she was.

She tugged my dick roughly to free it, but it didn’t hurt at all. After the constricting way I’d been caught up in my pants, it felt beyond wonderful to at last be free. I was throbbing, but my cock only enjoyed the cool air around it for a brief time before Gracie tugged aside her panties and shoved, yes shoved me into her hot, tight, soaking pussy.

She felt so good inside that I didn’t even want to fuck. I just stayed in her like that, feeling her cunt squeezing me. I was shocked that she could be so tight and yet so easy to push my entire length into on the first try. But obviously she was good at this. Her pussy walls milked my cock with more expertise than some girls had with their hands or even mouths. It felt so good that I knew I wouldn’t even need to fuck her to get off.

“Ohhhh, good,” Gracie shuddered. “Ohhh, yeah. You just keep it right there. I’ll take care of you, baby. Just stay there just like that.” She put her hands on my chest and pushed my chest away from hers as she thrust herself out, bowing backward against the mattress. Her tits rose so high that I lost sight of her head as it dipped back, but we were still deeply connected at the hips. I grabbed her breasts and held them together, waiting for whatever came next.

It was then that I found out the expert cunt massage my dick was getting was only the appetizer. Next Gracie began wildly rotating and thrusting and bucking her hips every which way, fucking me so erratically that I never knew what to brace for. Her pelvis worked like it was separate from her, doing maneuvers that seemed like magic. She bounced against me hard and incredibly fast, and I couldn’t have fucked her back even I wanted to. Trying to move would have resulted in a broken penis. So, very happily, I just stood my ground and took it, holding onto those great tits for dear life as my legs trembled beneath me.

“How you doing?” Gracie shrieked loudly toward the ceiling. “Huh, boy? Still think you can handle me? Still think you can be my man?” She was at least as out of breath as I was since she was doing all the work, but that didn’t stop her mouth.

Even though her hands were still planted against my chest, holding me away so she could hold her bent back position, I wanted to be closer to her. I pulled myself forward and found little resistance as I buried my face into her black, wobbling tits. I wrapped my arms around her back and hugged her tight, and my leg muscles burned as I fought to keep myself in this position while taking the fucking of a lifetime from her.

“Oh yeah,” she gasped. “That’s it. Now show me! Show me what you can do!”

Accepting the challenge with every ounce of my body and mind, I didn’t even wait for her to stop her gymnastic-style fury fucking before I took over. I slid one hand down her back and to the bottom of her ass, feeling the thick crack of it right in my palm, while my other hand moved up to the back of her head. I straightened her back up, pulled her to me, and then bent her over again, kissing her with even more lust than before. This time I followed her body down with my own as we sagged against the mattress, slowly dragging it down the wall until it settled halfway on the floor with us laying on top of it, me on top of her, and now me doing the fucking.

I kissed her deeply and held her as my hips worked their own magic, thrusting in and out of her with a force and speed I was surprised to be capable of. I managed to find another level of passion even after that, when I heard and felt Gracie screaming into my mouth as our tongues slipped, swapped, spun, and quarreled.

Finally, when she was out of breath, she fought hard enough to break her lips free. “Oh fuck, don’t you dare stop! Don’t you dare fucking stop!!” She must have been delirious, because her next words contradicted that order. “I want to take my pants off!” Knowing that I was going to remind her about being prepared for a Jim invasion, or possibly just replying to the voice in her own head, she pulled off the t-shirt and quickly followed that with, “I don’t care! I want to fuck you right!”

I wanted that, too, and so I didn’t think twice about stopping and pulling out of that heavenly box to make it happen. While I kicked off my own shoes and pants, I yanked off her shoes and practically tore off her jeans and panties, revealing a thick, perfectly triangular bush of curly black hair and a long pair of thick but strong black legs, smooth and glistening and wrapping around me before I could even get my cock back inside of her. Gracie hugged me with her legs and used them to encourage my fucking as I reentered her dreamy cunt. With as much strength as I was pumping her with, her legs with those thick thighs made it all stronger, and soon the two of us were bouncing atop the mattress. Gracie’s big breasts were flopping. Our bodies were in sync, but we moved too violently to kiss.

“How is that?” I asked, passionate anger in my voice. “You ever had a man do you like this?”

“Oh fuck…” She couldn’t finish her thought because she was climaxing. Her eyes closed tight, her mouth opened wide, and she shook and shuddered all over. Her thighs wrapped around my ass so tight I thought she might squeeze permanent marks into my skin. Her pussy muscles attacked my cock with such frenzy that only a miracle kept me from cumming.

I kept up my thrusting as she writhed in orgasm. She was screaming now, showing no concern for getting caught, and her body responded with vicious, passionate spasms.

“Still think I can’t handle you?” I asked through my clenched teeth as I tried to hold back my own orgasm.

“Oh shut the fuck up and fuck me!”

I complied, giving her another three or four great, deep, strong thrusts, but that had put me over the edge.

“I’m cumming!”

“Yes! Yes!” she called out. “Cum in me, baby. Cum in me!”

And so I did, grunting and crying out. I clenched my teeth and the rest of my body went rigid as I plowed into Gracie again and flooded her hungry cunt with thick, gooey sperm. I slowed my thrusts as I came, instead opting to stay deep as I unleashed my seed. I pulled back once and sped right back in, all the while shooting my load.

“Give me the rest!” Gracie ordered breathlessly. “Give me the rest up here.”

I pulled out and, still spewing, crawled up and straddled her body, heading for her face. A thick trail of cum, bright, almost iridescent white against her black skin, spilled across her from her thick bush to her tummy to between those great tits to up her neck and over her chin. Then Gracie engulfed me with her mouth the way she first had with her pussy. She took me deep and sucked vigorously, her tongue doing miracles right away, and her throat muscles noisily swallowing every drop and spurt of cum I had left. She moaned on me hungrily, suggesting I was more than satisfying.

I had stopped cumming a good couple minutes before Gracie finally released my sensitive dick from her mouth. She was still catching her breath, but she held fast to my cock, holding it against the left side of her face as I grew softer and softer. But even then she wasn’t through. Eventually her hand sneaked under me and took a hold of my hanging balls, then massaged them with a warm, sticky lubricant that I knew had to be the cum I had left on her body.

Maybe it was because I wasn’t expecting a round two even in my wildest dreams. But I was erect again in just minutes. I grew hard against her face, and she licked me while looking deeply into my eyes.

“I think Jim heard us,” she said. Of course I knew that had to be true. People watching television two houses down would have heard us. But I knew she wasn’t upset over that. Instead, she said it as a way to suggest that she didn’t care. She didn’t care who knew what was going on then, and she didn’t care who knew what we were about to do now.

Gracie had been right. I couldn’t handle her. But it was damned fun trying.

[Via http://bigakboy.wordpress.com]

More Bad News For Adobe & Flash – Wikipedia Is Going Open Video ...

Just what is "extracurricularing?"

2010-03-20T01:52:00.000+02:00

Words are important. So I can’t call it “cheating” when cheating means one exact thing – betraying. I went looking in the thesaurus to find a word that means “yeah, you went sniffing around in someone else’s yard, you were a stray dog, but not exactly a bad dog since you weren’t on a leash to begin with.” No such word seems to exist. Let’s try “extracurricularing” – even though it has a schoolish sound and the only school that dogs go to is obedience school, and this not exactly about obedience, except maybe obedience to the fact that too much obedience doesn’t necessarily make for a happy marriage, maybe just an orderly one, which is fine if you think order is sexy.

R. and I have had the leashes off for a long time. We’ve tried different approaches – telling each other about the wanderings, not telling – at various times the wanderings have happened a lot or a little or not at all. Extracurricularing is often on my mind – attempts are made sometimes to no avail and sometimes to avail. R. and I don’t have a lot of sex – haven’t for a while – so of course that makes extracurricularing more urgent. Yet I don’t want for us to break up. There’s lots of guys I could have good sex with (at least in theory), but only one I could love and live with, and I’ve got him. Still, I don’t want to parade my extracurricularing under his nose – that’s just crass and insensitive. I don’t want it to take away from our time together or our focus on each other. Naturally, this is a complicated balance, and I haven’t figured out how to achieve it. So, it requires a lot of discretion, which is not quite the same as sneaking, although it usually feels that way, and as such puts a damper on extracurricularing, because I hate to feel like a sneak. So, generally you’ll find me masturbating in the shower like a teenager.

[Via http://funinmysocks.wordpress.com]

Great Student Loan Debt News - CBS MoneyWatch.com

Female Masturbation

2010-03-18T09:56:00.000+02:00

Masturbation gives women the opportunity to explore their body while at the same time giving them a high degree of sexual freedom. It allows them the opportunity to experience sexual pleasure without relying on a partner, and to release sexual tension when they feel the need to.

Masturbation can be a very empowering learning tool for women – it teaches them about their bodies, and how it responds to sexual stimulation. Many normal and healthy women only experience an orgasm while masturbating, or find it is their most intense type of orgasm. Masturbation is the first and most important sexual skill a woman should learn, as it holds the key to enjoying other forms of sexual activity. Ideally, this skill is commenced early in life (preferably prior to the age of five), but far too often it is not learned until a woman is in her late teens or early twenties. This stems from the incorrect notion that children are entirely devoid of sexuality and that they must be protected from its ‘evils’. Children, especially infants, are incredibly curious individuals who will undoubtedly discover masturbation on their own. A parent, if they discover their child masturbating, should not chastise them for it, but rather, tell them about appropriate private and public behaviour.

However, not all women have negative views of masturbation, nor indeed do all women feel the need to masturbate. The point is that women are increasingly developing more positive attitudes towards masturbation and the pleasure it can bring them. If given the opportunity, women will often discuss their masturbation habits with pride, without the least amount of guilt.

Common Misconceptions

In spite of the sexual revolution, female masturbation is still somewhat taboo. Even though popular songs, movies and television make mention of female masturbation, it is not a common topic of discussion. People are more likely to make mention of male masturbation than female. It is a given that males masturbate, but for females, even though it might be commonly accepted that they do it, they are not expected to. If a woman does not know that her peers masturbate and that they presume that she does, she is less likely to do it … or if she does, she feels guilty for doing so. Since many women do not generally talk about it, it is often presumed that they do not masturbate.

Another common misconception of women is that if they have a partner, they should not feel the need to masturbate. Or if they are single, that masturbating would reinforce their single status; in other words, if they were not single, they would not have to masturbate. So instead of masturbating, some go in search of a partner. This is not the best solution and typically results in unfulfilled desires.

Since masturbation is seen as a “solo” activity, some women with partners do not feel it is appropriate for them to masturbate. If they have a partner, it is believed that their sexual activities with them should fulfil all their sexual needs. While a nice ideal, in real life a lot of women’s sexual needs are not met fully by their partner, no matter how good and loving a partner they have. For women with partners, it is important that they understand that it is perfectly healthy and normal for them to masturbate, and they should do so without feeling guilty. For many women the frequency with which they masturbate should not change when they go from being single to having a sexual partner. Some women may find they masturbate even more when they have a partner, as having a partner makes them feel more sexual, and increases their desire for sex and sexual pleasure.

While it is certainly untrue, the majority of people believe that women are less sexual than men. We are led to believe that women think about sex and desire sex much less. Society creates outcasts of women who are openly sexual. This results in women believing they should not have strong sexual feelings and desires. Unfortunately, many women are ashamed to admit they become ‘horny’. This results in women introverting and denying their own sexual feelings and desires. While a woman’s desire for sex may change with time as the result of hormonal influences, they are overall just as sexual as men. If a woman accepts that she is equally as sexual as a man, she is more likely to feel comfortable with her desire to masturbate.

Why Masturbate?

The main reason a woman should masturbate is because it feels good. Women with strong sex drives may masturbate frequently, but a woman should not forgo masturbating just because she does not have a strong sex drive. Even if she has no desire for partner sex, she should still enjoy giving herself pleasure. The fact that pre-adolescent girls masturbate proves that hormonally induced sex drives are not the only reason to masturbate; young girls do it for no other reason than it feels good. There is nothing wrong with a woman giving herself pleasure on a daily basis, or as often as she desires. For masturbation to be pleasurable it does not have to end in orgasm. Masturbation may involve nothing more than placing your hands against your vulva when you go to sleep at night, simply because it feels good.

There are times in all relationships when a partner is not available for sex when you desire it, even when they sleep beside you. Couples frequently have different levels of sex drive, and expectations regarding physical intimacy. This is why women frequently masturbate secretively in the shower, or masturbate silently in the early morning hours while their sleeping partner lies beside them. Masturbating when you have a partner is normal and a woman should not feel ashamed for doing so. Most women have probably done it at some point in their relationship. It is often a necessity. Forgoing masturbation and sexual pleasure when you need it simply because you have a partner does harm to you and your relationship, because you will slowly begin to blame them for your sexual frustration. As your sexual frustration grows, so does your frustration with the relationship.

If a woman does not know how to sexually satisfy herself, then how can she expect her partner to know? Learning about her own body, how it responds and then teaching this to her partner is a great way to ensure that she gets the most out of her whole sexual experience. Don’t be shy ladies … share that knowledge and you will never regret it!

Masturbation Techniques

Women and girls masturbate in an endless list of ways. Common methods are, massaging of the clitoris with hands and fingers, rubbing the vulva up against pillows, bed cloths, stuffed animals and furniture, etc. The vagina appears to play a limited role in the masturbation practices of women, but vaginal penetration during masturbation is by no means unusual or uncommon. Some women employ anal and/or nipple stimulation in addition to clitoral and vaginal stimulation.

It is important to understand that there is no “correct” or “right” way to masturbate. Some women feel they should be able to masturbate to orgasm using a different or more correct method because they hear other women do it that way. It is important to keep in mind that each woman’s anatomy is slightly different and her psychological makeup is quite different. This results in every woman masturbating differently, even if they use the same basic technique. While some women can masturbate to orgasm employing several different techniques, others find they can reach orgasm only when they use the same method each time. There is nothing wrong with this. Due to conditioning and the differences in women’s bodies, learning new techniques for some can be difficult. If you are orgasmic with your current masturbation technique, feel free to experiment, but do not feel you have to reach orgasm in other ways. Remember, masturbation is supposed to be fun and enjoyable, no matter how you do it.

Here are some tips for the beginner – or anyone looking to improve their repertoire:

The Beginner

When you have relaxed your body lie on a bed, or sit in a comfortable chair, and explore your nude or semi-nude body. Run your fingers and hands across your body. Explore your breasts and play with your nipples; caress your legs and thighs. Cup your vulva in your hand and gently rub in small circles. Stimulate your body, but do not try to reach orgasm. Make yourself feel good. If you feel yourself get tense, stop what you are doing, breath deeply and relax. Do this exercise as often as possible, but for no longer than 20 minutes per session. Do not tire or stress yourself out. The point of this exercise is to make you feel good while staying relaxed, not to have an orgasm. You want to feel a little aroused, but at peace – not compelled to go further.After you become comfortable exploring and touching your body you will want to try more direct means of stimulating your vulva. Slip your fingers between the folds of your vulva and massage and play with your inner labia, perhaps pulling on them lightly or firmly. Slip your fingers up to the top of your vulva and place them on top of your clitoris. Gently move your fingers up and down, around, and perhaps even wildly jiggle them. Make the loose tissue covering your clitoris slide across the body and glans of your clitoris. If you feel a need to be filled, insert a finger or two into your vagina. You want to make yourself feel really good, but you do not want to intentionally try to have an orgasm. If an orgasm occurs, you want it to be a total surprise. If you are thinking about having an orgasm, you need to slow down, relax, and redirect your thoughts. You do not want your brain to know you are about to have an orgasm.You may not experience orgasm the first few times, so do not try to. Just enjoy the pleasures of touching yourself. If you get to a point where you suddenly find your body is super-tense, you are trying too hard. Try to enjoy yourself, not orgasm. You want to surprise yourself with an orgasm. If you feel yourself on the verge of orgasm, but cannot get there, you are probably trying too hard; you cannot force your body to have an orgasm. The more you concentrate on trying to have an orgasm, the less likely you are to have one.Clitoral Stimulation

Using your hands and fingers, stimulate (rub, stroke, pinch, etc) the clitoris with one or more fingers or the palm of your hand. Some find direct contact with the clitoris too intense, and prefer stimulation near or around the clitoris. Others prefer to have a layer of clothing or some other fabric between the hand and clitoris. Try it both ways and see what works best for you.G-Spot Stimulation

Inserting a vibrator or dildo into the vagina can help locate and stimulate your G-spot and offers a feeling of fullness in the vagina. You can locate your G-spot with your fingers, but it’s difficult to provide adequate stimulation through manual masturbation. Women who enjoy stimulation of the G-spot usually employ sexual toys to make it easier and more enjoyable.Vibrators

Vibrators are used primarily for clitoral stimulation, though many women also use them for vaginal or anal stimulation. They also may be combined with other toys and used in any number of positions. A good, discrete alternative to a vibrator for clitoral or anal stimulation is a massage wand. However, massage wands cannot be used for vaginal or anal penetration. Please see our previous post about dildos and vibrators.Common, Everyday Objects

Rub your clitoris against any soft, non-abrasive object (e.g., a pillow, the corner of a couch, etc.) and see if you enjoy the stimulation it provides.Showers

A detachable shower-head can be quite scintillating for just about any woman. The best shower available is the ones with the versatile control that switches the water from a steady stream to a pulsating jet spray. In hot tubs, avoid sending strong streams of water into the vagina; in extreme cases this can cause fatal air embolism!Conclusion

In closing, there is no right way to masturbate and there is no specific number of times you should do it per week. As long as you feel comfortable with the frequency at which you masturbate and the pleasure it provides you, then keep on doing it. Masturbation is normal and should be pleasurable, so find out what you like the best and then show your partner, if you have one, how they can help please you properly.

Love Cara

[Via http://bigakboy.wordpress.com]

Former news editor files lawsuit against the University, Daily ...

Rules for a Playboy (written by a woman)

2010-03-18T01:47:00.000+02:00

We all have our shortcomings. That’s what I should have said to “Donnie”* when he tried to play Don Juan in the deluded fantasy of his universe. There’s nothing worse than a guy in his early 20s who tries to impress a woman by acting like a playboy.

A playboy must accrue first the physical specifications and second the accoutrements of a well-rounded reputation. If you’re going to act like a stud, you better damn well have the junk to speak for itself.

Second, a playboy should never let his guard down. Never, ever show a point of vulnerability where a woman can cut you down for years to come with her friends who will from now on rule out the possibility of ever having sex with you. Even though the rest of us are human, playboys aren’t. They have no soul. Remember this first and foremost.

Donnie could have used this memo a couple weeks ago when he instant messaged me on Google Talk. Because I am in constant need of communication in some form or fashion, I have the Google Talk application downloaded on my Blackberry, so I can chat with friends while they’re at work but don’t want to be seen texting at their desks.

So anyway, I’m exploring a new city with my good friend from college W, and I get this IM from Donnie: “Good afternoon.”

There’s nothing that irks me more when a man attempts to amp up his everyday speech for the sake of looking or sounding cooler and more intelligent than he actually is. Apparently I didn’t answer fast enough because he followed with, “Got a minute?”

I groaned and told W the message. I couldn’t possibly be in any sort of trouble. We hadn’t been dating by any means, and we certainly weren’t having sex. How could this have been a bad thing? Then I started thinking about the possibilities. This guy may actually want to make this work. Ick.

Well I didn’t get my worst nightmare, and I didn’t exactly get my dream scenario either. As a product of the 21st century and a fully liberated woman, I prefer to keep things casual. Don’t call me, I’ll call you. We’ll see who breaks down first. Most likely it will be you. (Some may also say this is a product of a broken heart; this is what I call playing it safe.)

It takes him a while to respond, all the while W and I are checking out every hot navy boy’s ass as they walk by (I wanted to hook me a sailor, fa’sho). During the space of time it took him to respond, I thought back to all the hot and heavy sessions Donnie and I had shared, which all ended … unfortunately.

I’m not sure why I kept seeing him, to be honest. It was probably mostly out of boredom and the shallow dating pool I was forced to wade in, thanks to the tiny college town that I occupied.

Donnie was, well. Donnie was special. And I don’t mean that in the I-fell-in-love-with-this-guy special. I mean the wow-can-you-really-call-that-thing-a-penis special.

This was my first experience with such a, how shall we call it, disproportionately sized disco stick. At first I thought he was having a difficult time getting hard because we had a couple of cocktails, which then prompted the thought, “Oh hell no, this won’t work, seeing as how I could use a cocktail with every meal, except breakfast, and even then I want a beer.”

It was just so … tiny. There’s nothing more disheartening for a woman when she has somewhat of a physical connection with a man, only to find out minutes later, that the bastard isn’t packing enough heat to make friction with a pair of panty hose, let alone my clitoris.

So here I am, trying not to gag. Not only was it small, but only halfway hard. There is also nothing scarier to me than flaccid penis. Not only is it flabby and wilted, but it also holds no utilitarian purpose for me. It’s useless. He asks me to go down on him. I oblige, but cautiously. We make out for a few more minutes, and Jack finally comes out of his box (seriously, the only thing that could have made this experience more scarring is if his peen were uncircumcised).

It’s not that I don’t enjoy giving head. I do … but only when the stars are aligned perfectly. We as humans only really enjoy doing it to a very small percentage of people—we just continue to give it because it gets us what we want.

So I’m down there, doing my best at acting like his junk doesn’t make me want to run for the hills, when I don’t even have time to get my bearings straight, and … he finishes. It couldn’t have been longer than 60 seconds. That’s usually my interest threshold for BJs, and I hadn’t even gotten bored yet. Plus there hadn’t been a courtesy tap or warning in any fashion.

What. The. Fuck. This had never been a problem with any of the guys I had dated, casually or serious. In fact, up until this point, I had been extremely lucky. My first real boyfriend, turns out, was more of a stud than I initially gave him credit for. I should use this time to apologize, but I’m not one for apologizing to people who are as big of assholes as myself.

And for my unabashed approach to talking about sex, I’m surprisingly traditional. Well, traditional in the sense that you only get the goodies when you pay your dues. Take me out on dates, act like you give a shit, even for a substantial two weeks. Who wouldn’t? I’m a catch with a nice ass, and if the rumors are true I’m awesome in bed. I like men, and I like partying. The two go hand in hand.

So with Donnie, the answer was simple. I didn’t deign to have sex with him, for fear of becoming a social pariah. Not only had he not expressed interest in dating me, but he also had a stump for a third leg. This was a no-brainer. Why waste both my energy and my standards? There are better stallions to break, I promise you.

So, imagine my shock and laughter when I get this message verbatim (I save chat logs for this very reason): “While it would be easier to let it taper off, I feel that the right thing to do is explain to you that the sexual side of our relationship wasn’t working out for me, and I hope you’ll respect my wish to simply be friends.”

There are two problems with this type of message. First, do it over the phone and don’t hide behind the your mother’s skirt (in his case the Internet) because you’re too much of a pussy to hear what I actually have to say in return.

Second, the “relationship” (if you could call it that) had already tapered off. There was no reason to continue seeing this poor soul. I hadn’t talked to him in weeks and was perfectly content with that realization. Once he told me that someone once compared him to dust particles one sees in the afternoon sunlight … and thought this was a compliment. This is someone I had no business around in the first place; I was just better, and that’s all there is to it.

And third, who says, “Respect my wish”? I wanted to laugh in his face and bitch slap him at the same time. The only males I maintain a friendship with are the ones I respect enough not to conquest. Let’s get real here. His personality was enough to send me home. Take out manual stimulation and oral sex, and I’ve already got my bags packed with a foot out the door.

My response: “I really don’t need an explanation. I haven’t seen or heard from you in weeks, and I’m OK with it.”

Donnie: “Oh. Well. Glad we’re on the same page then.”

See, if you’re going to act like the playboy that Donnie wished he was, just disappear. And make sure the girl actually gives a shit. If she doesn’t … well, you’re just come off looking like a jackass. Or an idiot who has issues with premature ejaculation.

Like I said, we all have our short cummings.

*Names have been changed. Obvs.

[Via http://lowedowndragout.wordpress.com]

Kelly O'Donnell Advances NBC News Company Line On Obamacare Poll ...

What Modern Science Says About Reversing the Aging Process

2010-03-16T16:41:00.000+02:00

Tuesday 16th of March 2010

Practical Life Extension

What Modern Science Says About Reversing The Aging Process

There’s an old proverb that rings with wit and reason: “Everyone wants to go to heaven but no one wants to die.” So why do we want to live forever? According to Dr. Sanjay Gupta, author of “Chasing Life” and CNN’s Senior Medical Corespondent, we do not.

The real quest isn’t eternal life on earth according to Gupta, but rather an exceptional life.

While interviewing the foremost authorities on anti-aging and life extension, Dr. Gupta discovered three “universals” — three principles that each researcher deemed critical to extending our lives naturally and empowering us to live exceptionally. They are:

1. Weight training

2. Good nutrition

3. Positive thinking and having purpose

Jon Benson, author of “Fit Over 40″, explores each of these in great detail, as well as asking 52 men and women how they have managed to slow the hands of time down to a crawl. Benson does not waste time with hype and hypothesis. He focuses on real-world examples and applications we can all use to slow down the aging process and help prevent and reverse the conditions that can lead to disease.

Discover more today at http://www.fitover40.com/go/rei1031

You too can live a longer, more exceptional life by simply adopting a smart, realistic and enjoyable lifestyle fitness plan. And if science just happens to catch up with Father Time, you’ll be many steps ahead of the curve.

paul pharms

[Via http://rei1031.wordpress.com]

UK charts: Final Fantasy XIII is top News | Eurogamer

Christians Involved In Sexual Scandals - Again and Again and Again

2010-03-16T01:56:00.000+02:00

Christians are always concerned about the sexual lives of others and condemning others. Funny, they condemn all types of sexual behaviors that are legal while they are taking part, IN LARGE NUMBERS, in ILLEGAL sexual acts. Most of those crimes committed against children.

Don’t forget, we need you to send more money than usual to the Christian churches so that they can pay their legal bills and pay off others to hide the truth. So lets help all Christians praise their God for creating child molesters (“I (God) created the wicked for the evil day”). Send them money to hide their crimes and pretend it is not their fault or their God’s fault. You know, the God that created child molesters like a potter forms clay for honor and dishonor….wait…didn’t their God say that?

Remember, in order for Christian religions to grow in our world and bring us their wonderful practices, you need to support your Republican politicians and send money.

It not only costs to pay those large legal bills but they need to pay off as many as possible to keep lots o fit hidden from public eyes and the law.

[Via http://truelogic.wordpress.com]

Microsoft patents Xbox Live upsell idea News | Xbox 360 | Eurogamer

Which Breast Was It?

2010-03-14T09:38:00.000+02:00

There comes a time, now and again, where I must cast aside my principle of not posting gossip…..there comes a time when I see a report that just begs me to comment……and I finally could not stand it anymore…..

This from the “Fair and Balanced” Network:

A Kentucky woman was charged with assault after she allegedly squirted breast milk into the face of a deputy.

Toni Tramel, 31, was arrested Thursday for public intoxication in Owensboro, WYMT-TV reported, but it is what she did next which has attracted headlines.

As Tramel changed into an inmate uniform, she squirted a stream of breast milk into the face of the female deputy watching over her.

A press release from the Daviess County, Kentucky, Detention Center, said that after the deputy decontaminated herself from the “bio-hazard”, Tramel was charged with third degree assault.

While the public drunkenness was merely a misdemeanor offense, the assault is a felony charge and a US$10,000 bond was set.

Reports of the case have sparked debates about whether using breast milk as a weapon should constitute a felony assault case, with many readers likening it to an accused person spitting on an officer.

All I can ask is….was it the right or the left? I am sorry I was so caught up in the moment that I am left speechless….

But if you liked that one…..then you will cream your pants over this one……we have all seen those guys shaving while driving to work, but there is even more to that concept…..

A two-car crash on a Florida highway was caused by a 37-year-old woman who was shaving her bikini area while in the driver’s seat, according to the Florida Highway Patrol. Her ex-husband was steering from the passenger seat.

Megan Mariah Barnes and her ex-husband Charles Judy were driving southbound Tuesday morning when they slammed into the back of a pick-up driven by David Schoff after he slowed to take a turn, CBS station WFOR-TV reports.

Barnes said she was meeting her boyfriend in Key West and wanted to be “ready for the visit,” trooper Gary Dunick explained.

It is really hard to make this sh*t up….but why? People are just stupid enough to keep us all busy…..I have been told that a person needs to be well-groomed….the this is taking it a bit to far……

Have you read enough…think again….YES! There is more!

Titty Cheese!

Daniel Angerer is used to getting attention for the food served at his restaurant, Klee Brasserie — but the New York chef is making more headlines than ever over a new dish that has its source in his fiancee’s brassiere.

In Angerer’s case, that mother is his longtime fiancee, Lori Mason, who was producing more milk than she knew what to do with while nursing their now 10-week-old daughter, Arabella.

“Mommy’s Milk Cheese” is exactly what it sounds like: cheese made from the breast milk of a nursing mother.

Okay, I just have to say something……..!

When I tried to make my own cheese all the recipes called of at least a gallon or more of milk…..Now, just how much milk does she produce and how damn big are those boobs?

PETA once suggested that Ben & Jerry should use breast milk to make their ice cream….so this story should have the PETA lunatics jerking off in the corner…..

[Via http://lobotero.wordpress.com]

Another Look At FOX News' Hatchet Job On Geert Wilders | NewsReal Blog

No Kids

2010-03-14T01:50:00.000+02:00

At 22 I had my tubes tied. I had difficulty finding a doctor that would do it. They were all convinced that I would change my mind and eventually want kids. I am 31 years old and have never looked back. I wish I could have had it done before I was 22. I remember living in fear after every sexual encounter prior to my tubal ligation that I would become pregnant and be faced with a choice. I have always been a pro-choice person, but imagining having to make the choice myself I couldn’t imagine what I would do. Quite frankly, I didn’t want to find out. I try to never say never, but I really don’t anticipate ever wanting children.

I don’t think that most people understand how a young woman could possibly go against what her body was made to do; produce offspring. I completely respect the women that make the choice to be mothers and raise productive members of society. I think it must be one of the most difficult jobs I can think of. I just wanted different for myself. I would feel trapped in a job that I wouldn’t love. I think I am meant to affect more lives than just a few. I think I am meant to do great things with my life. Kids just aren’t a part of that plan.

[Via http://rawcommencement.wordpress.com]

Durian » Blog Archive » News about Chaos & Evolutions

Phone sex with Mike

2010-03-13T09:42:00.000+02:00

My husband works on the North Slope of Alaska and is gone for two weeks at a time. Yes that means no hard cock for two weeks unless we have something worked out with friends……..another story anther time. So we have had phone sex for years, now with webcams we get even more explicit.

In my more serious moments, I wonder what Alexander Graham Bell and Sigmund Freud would have said about the erotic phenomenon that has become known as phone sex.

The subject of phone sex requires little introduction – it is simulated sex via telephone in which the goal is to sexually stimulate one or both of the participants and the use of voice is the only human contact it involves.

Firstly there are hundreds of commercial phone sex lines that one can call which cater to every taste and fetish. It’s an exceptionally lucrative industry and I can understand why. There’s always someone out there horny and stroking a rock hard erection while letting his mind wander in search of just the right fantasy to inspire a gut-wrenching, earth shattering orgasm.

Perhaps he’s alone and bored with the well-thumbed porn magazines and the same old video fuck scenes. Maybe he wants something different, something wild and kinky, or maybe he simply wants to connect with a willing open-minded partner who will participate in his fantasy while he gets his rocks off. An easy solution is to call a phone sex line and indulge in a few minutes of live facilitated masturbation.

I’ve not had much personal experience with any of these commercial phone sex lines, aside from having done research and written some erotic scripts for a few of the local recorded sex lines. However I do wonder about the authenticity of the fantasy sex line operators. Are they really attractive wanton wenches who masturbate to orgasm while talking dirty to their clients? Do they even get aroused, or are they simply bored working women of all shapes and sizes who file their nails while reading scripts and watching the clock tick over till the end of their shift?

Perhaps it doesn’t really matter since it is a fantasy, an illusion that one is buying when they dial into one of these lines, and as long as it provides the kind of gratification the client is seeking on his own terms, its money well spent.

I enjoy it with my man and here are some tips for you guys out there. Have some ideas and be open and clear in telling her exactly what you are in the mood for and what you will be requiring especially if you have some role play fantasy or specific scenario in mind. Remember it’s a phone call to your woman about sex talk and fantasy. It’s no time for her to play guessing games, to string you along, or for you to get shy or indecisive.

Again, this is the perfect way to have a carnal connection when you and your lover are apart and enables you to merge emotionally, share physical feelings and ultimately reach sexual release.

Many people simply add a little anticipation and spice to their love lives by discussing their fantasies and desires over the telephone and masturbating together.

Here I do speak from experience and can vouch for the fact that phone sex between people who care about each other or have a strong emotional connection is so much more than talking dirty or a few pants and moans on a phone. It is more like a dance of seduction with the mind and words are the music. Sometimes the music is hot and played with fire like a tango, evoking lust and wantonness and exploding in a climatic ending. The words set the tempo, are scintillating and lusty and can go something like this:

“I want you.”

“Mmm, you do? Tell me how much?”

“So much that I’m going to call you as soon as my next meeting is done.”

“Oooh, that sounds delicious. I can’t wait baby.”

“Uh-huh, me neither. Thinking about you already has me walking around here with a hard-on. Break out your toys; I’ll call you in 30 minutes.”

Click.

Ring.

“I’m alone.”

“You do know that waiting for you like this has made me so wet, don’t you?”

“And you have no idea how fucking hard I am. My cock is tight and full. I’m unzipping now. Are you naked?”

“Yeah I am, spread out on the bed with the curtains open.”

“Ohh you naughty girl! And what are you doing?”

“I’ve been touching my nipples, making them hard, running my fingers over my tummy…”

“And your pussy?”

“No, I wanted to wait for you, baby.”

“Mmmm, spread the lips open for me, slide a finger inside your cunt and play with your clit too.”

“Ooh I’m soaked. My pussy wants your cock so badly…”

“And I want to fuck you so hard. I want to push my cock all the way inside you and thrust deeply.”

“Ahhh God, Yesss! I’m fingering myself. Mmmm.”

“Fuck, I’m leaking precum. I’m smearing it over the tip now and stroking my cock up and down.”

“Oh God.”

“Do you have your toys there? All of them?

“Mmm yeah I do, with fresh batteries.”

“Good because I want a big thick one in your pussy and one in your tight little asshole as well. Slide them in for me baby but don’t turn them on yet.”

“Oooh my ass loves being opened. I’m pushing it in but I wish it was your cock. Arghhh, fuck! I’m so stretched baby with two vibrators in me. I wish you could see how my cunt is wrapped around this big black one and how hot it looks with my pussy lips gripping it.

“Oh God!” Let me hear, baby. Put the phone down there at your pussy and thrust it in and out of yourself. Let me hear how fucking juicy and wet you are…”

I think you get the general idea of hot lusty phone talk. What else can that lead to, but an explosive mind-blowing orgasm?

As with physical lovemaking, sometimes the tempo is more of a waltz; smooth and gliding, seductive and tender. It may go something like this:

“I want to kiss you deeply my baby and run my hands all over your naked flesh.”

“Mmm and I want to run my tongue over your chest, suck on your nipples and lick all the way down to your navel.”

“Ah you sound so sexy angel. I wish you could suck me now. I’d love your sweet lips pulling around my cock. Long deep, slow sucks…”

“I want you so much baby, I wish you were here inside me.”

“I am my darling. I am deep inside you and I want to hear you come hard, my love…”

Yes, agreed it’s masturbation, but there’s no doubt of the connection and the profound intimacy. It can be like making tender love or fucking with wild abandonment.

Phone sex can happen just about anywhere where people have some privacy, but the most important aspect of phone-sex is imagination. If you’ve never tried it before, you and your partner will need to allow yourselves entry into the world of intimate erotic conversation and fantasy together.

If you have absolutely no clue on how to get started, try imagining what you’ve always wanted to do with this person and describe it step by step or share your steamy desires.

Initially some people may feel awkward or tongue-tied and it’s best not to try and force yourself to say something vulgar or X-rated that feels or sounds contrived. Rather just chat as you normally would and ease into a more intimate exchange by saying something as simple as “I wish you were lying next to me.” Or you might want to remind him or her of an incredibly hot session you had together and how horny thinking about it has made you.

You could also explore sexual situations that you have yet to try together in reality. That’s bound to get the juices flowing both literally and mentally and you can go from there.

The way you use your voice and the things you utter to each other are triggers that spike and enhance the stimulation, so yes, you do have to be graphic or explicit. That’s just how it works. And you do need to be comfortable using words that usually turn someone on. When you fantasize and are getting off alone you don’t think of words like “penis” and “vagina.” You think in more vivid and salacious terms like “big hard cock,” or “tight pussy” or ” dripping wet cunt.” Don’t be afraid to say those words. You’ll be surprised at how liberating and how arousing it is for both of you. And it will add to the excitement and intensity of the experience if you can just kick back and let yourself go. Hot, dirty talk gets easier and comes more naturally once you’re relaxed and aroused. And there is nothing that beats hearing the inflections in the other person’s voice, the sound of their breathing changing, the little gasps and moans of pleasure as their excitement grows and their orgasm builds.

So, once she begins revealing that she imagines you treating her like a slut, pushing her up against a wall and slowly but forcefully licking and biting her everywhere until you finally thrust your cock inside her ass, or he reveals that he wants to blindfold you and eat your pussy until his face is wet, I think you’ll manage to find your sexual imagination lurking somewhere.

Discussing fantasies is often a huge turn on and are especially intimate and arousing for sharing during phone sex. If your own fantasies don’t come to mind in graphic detail, why not ask your partner what their fantasies are? Or if you really want to up the erotic ante and be adventurous, consider sharing your deepest, darkest secret fantasy, which by implication suggests that it’s possibly going to be a little over the top and very wild. It’s probably also not something you would ever do in reality but is great fantasy fodder for screaming, toe-curling orgasms.

Fantasies could entail pretending to break into her home, making her your sex slave and having forceful rough sex with her. During phone play a normally conservative lady can become a hot slutty bitch or a whip wielding dominatrix. A married father can be a raunchy bisexual stud enjoying a gang bang or a forty year old can be daddy’s bad little girl.

We all have hidden desires that we may be too reserved to talk directly about with a partner, and yet they really arouse us. With the phone as a go-between it can liberate you to open up mentally and feel comfortable to express verbally without fear of judgment. No matter what those fantasies are, you can explore them through the art of slow, seductive conversation, heavy breathing and grunts of pleasure while you touch and stroke yourself or get adventurous with your toys, in such a way that it lets the other person know that not only are you into it, but that it’s exciting you to the point of orgasm as well.

There are no boundaries as long as both of you enjoy the conversation and respect each other’s comfort zones. The intensity of the experience will depend on how much you are prepared to let go, how far you will allow your imagination to stray and of course how comfortable you are communicating with the person on the other side of the phone. I’ve had some really intense phone sex encounters where the combination of intimate talk together with the physical play has resulted in some of the most deeply satisfying climaxes and multiple orgasms I’ve ever had.

So, next time you’re thinking of that special someone, feeling horny and can’t be with them, remember that there’s usually a phone in every household, hotel, pocket or handbag and a fantasy in every mind. With a little privacy and imagination, you and your partner can enjoy an erotic encounter so vivid, that you can both feel it and taste it.

And you don’t have to wait for him, or her, to be away to try phone sex. Consider it as a new twist to spice up your sex life and to explore new ideas. Not only will it allow you a joyous excursion into a fantastic mind fuck, but whispering sweet nothings or purring sizzling somethings into the phone can let you get up close and personal at any time of the day or night. Plus, it will let your lover know that they are desired by you and even though you can’t be together right at that moment; there is no place that you’d rather be than in their arms and in their bed. Have fun and have an earth shattering orgasm for me, tell me about it.

Love Cara

[Via http://bigakboy.wordpress.com]

ABC News Acknowledges Mini-Mistake In Toyota Report

Relationship Police

2010-03-13T01:26:00.000+02:00

I’ve been chatting with Gator tonight about relationships. It’s a great thing to be able to do that with your partner…talk with him about his relationship with someone else and mine with someone else. I don’t think someone who has never had that opportunity or that openness with a partner can truly appreciate the beauty of it.

There are limitations to both or relationships. I do not feel comfortable sharing what Gator thinks his limitations are with Kitten. That is a personal thing for him. And, while I’m going to share some of what I feel mine are with Tech, it will be difficult in a way. Kitten could read this. But when I chose to keep blogging, I chose to keep doing it the same way because I felt totally generalizing things would defeat the purpose of my blog.

Everyone knows that I would like to spend more one-on-one time with Tech. I said that many times at our last meet and greet when we were discussing why we are in a closed quad. For me, it’s just that I don’t get enough time with Tech as it is. I do not want to give what little I have up to pursue a relationship with someone else. Even if I could spend more time with a new relationship. I love Tech. He is where I want to ensure I have as much time as possible.

The limitation is that I do have time I can spend with him. He isn’t free to spend that time with me. Kitten doesn’t like being left alone. As his primary, he isn’t likely to do something often that she isn’t comfortable with. He makes the effort when I’ve let him know I’m feeling the squeeze more than normal. I do know he likes spending time with me. It’s just easier to spend time as a quad because no one gets left alone. But I find it difficult to stay connected without quality dyad time. (I need the same with Gator but we get that most of the time.) And I don’t want to have everything a group thing. The only thing that isn’t a group adventure any longer is sex. And while Kitten commented at the last meet and greet that I could have a threesome with Gator and Tech if I wanted (we were asked about that as well), in reality when is that likely to happen? If she isn’t comfortable being alone while I spend time with Tech only, is she really going to be ok with being alone while I spend time with both Gator and Tech? Especially with it being intentional?

I’ve had a reader pose the question to me if I really think Kitten is capable of an open relationship. I’ve thought about that since then and I’ve talked with Gator about it as well. I’m not sure she is comfortable with the type of relationship we have. First, she was the first one to want to close our relationship. I feel she is most comfortable with emotional monogamy. Swinging most likely is a different story. I think she would like to know that she has at least one of the guys to herself. I fear that is the root of some of her problems with them both. That she doesn’t feel important enough to either of them for her to be the only one for them. I feel that she would be most comfortable in a closed v relationship. Where she is the hinge and the arms are only involved romantically and sexually with her. She would feel very secure in having Tech and another relationship (male or female) all to herself.

I’m not saying she doesn’t want to have this relationship. I feel she does. I just believe her personality lends itself to that one type of poly/open relationship. And I’m not faulting her for that. I truly am not. We all have things we are comfortable with and things that we are not.

I need to do some thinking and then communicating with Tech. I long for more. More in our relationship. I do my best not to think of those things and be content, if not happy, with the way things are. But, how long will I be able to do that. I’m fairly certain that there will come a time that what I get from my relationship with Tech can not outweigh the things I am missing in my relationship with him. If that weren’t the case, I would not continue to have these needs and wants and longings. Gator understands this. That I need more. I wonder if I would have kept some blocks up to how deeply I love Tech if I had known that he and I would never be granted the same freedoms we are prepared to give.

I truly want Gator to be happy. No matter. That’s how we ended up on this path. I want his relationship with Kitten to be more fruitful and fulfilling than it is. I wish she felt the same need to have something special with just him instead of her wanting Tech and I to be a part of a date she has with Gator…whether the involvement we have is literal or she is calling while they are out or just telling us everything about what they do together. I feel each relationship deserves something that is just for that relationship. Kitten is always involving Tech and I in her dates with Gator and is always involving herself in the dates Tech and I may have together. Why is that? Does she just need to have us all? Is the quad relationship more important to her than anything else? Is she just more comfortable when the group is involved? When she isn’t “left out” of something? Me, I know that Gator would love something closer between them without things going clingy.

But, back to my problem. Is it more harmful/hurtful to stay with Tech as things are now, knowing that the future is uncertain, or to cut our losses now? I love this man. It breaks my heart to think of life without him. I love this man and it also breaks my heart to not be able to have the kind of relationship with him that I long for.

Is content enough? Should I not settle for content and hold out for happy?

[Via http://ourquad.wordpress.com]

Fox News Plucks 'Back Wax' Ad From YouTube

Flurry for Brand endorsement offers for Mr. Tiwari

2010-03-11T09:44:00.000+02:00

After being caught red handed on news camera busy with 3 girls, Mr. Tiwari seems to have hit the jackpot in his final innings. In an unprecedented incident Mr. Tiwari has been contacted by head marketing Viyagra to be their global Brand Ambassador. When contacted, Mr. P.K. Lee the marketing head has confirmed that they have been trying to reach Mr. Tiwari from a long time. “He has got all the qualities which we want in our brand ambassador, his level of fitness and activism will boost the brand “. In a multimillion dollar deal Mr. Tiwari will be soon seen on TV and internet doing Brand endorsement of the much acclaimed product. There are rumors that Tiwari will also be helping the distribution and sales of the drug company in getting Viyaagra converted to over the counter drug using his novel network.

MTV has also finally announced their list of Youth icons today and Mr. Tiwari has been nominated from India for the same. In the competition Mr. Tiwari will be competing with likes of Hell Clinton, Tiger Hoods, Jamie Cameroon, John C Migraine and Prince Charlie. There is lot of anticipation regarding a tough fight between uncle Bell and Mr. Tiwari in the global media.

The increase of popularity of Tiwari Ji has also brought losses for few of the celebrities, Sachin has been impeached as the brand ambassador of Bhoost and Mr. Tiwari will be replacing him as the new brand ambassador. Bhoost has claimed that Mr. Tiwari has been using the energy drink from a long time which has made him so fit and Strong. So in a matter of days you might watch him saying “Bhoost is the secret of my Energy “.

[Via http://fullbakar.wordpress.com]

Cocktails Ward Off The Bulge - Science News

keisha is a stupid, dirty drunk whore (maybe not a clever title but it sure is true)

2010-03-11T01:35:00.000+02:00

well what do you think of the dirty whore? i guess her fans could be offended by me calling her that but shouldn’t be because she obviously PORTRAYS herself as such with all the drinking and fucking ugly drunk men and her caked on makeup and stupid blow job faces she makes constantly, and i haven’t even started on her voice, “catchy” aka not made by her “background” music while she wakes up and falls asleep in bathtubs with her crusty, torn, aborted fetus stained underwear. i was forced to watch these videos and am forced to hear this shitty music on the radio so just like everyone else who shakes their ass shamelessly to lyrics they can’t or don’t care to listen to or understand i refuse to let stupid ass sluts grab dudes dicks and give everyone who hears her shitty music ear aids… just can’t do it.

there, you are now free to BITCH!

[Via http://comental.wordpress.com]

AMERICAblog News: European Union to ban CDS, US to follow

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2010-03-09T09:55:00.000+02:00

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Disney's deal with Cablevision is good news for broadcasters ...

Rushing Back

2010-03-09T01:07:00.000+02:00

Like a ghost haunting the corridors of an old building, so my guilt haunts me. Like an lioness stalking her prey, waiting for the opportune moment to pounce, so my shame waits for me.

Nothing happens by chance. Nothing. So for whatever reason, God allowed me to run into a guy I used to know while taking care of an errand. One glace and his eyes which are literally like ice in color- a very pale blue- caused my heart to freeze. One glance and that old familiar guilt came rushing back. One glance and the pain of my past, my shame before God and my future mate, and the horror of who I was came like a flood gate bursting open.

All I could do was avert my eyes and pretend I didn’t know him and pray he didn’t recognize me. After all, I have changed a lot since I was 14. He was the first guy that I actually ever saw, though I had seen porn much earlier. He was the first and only guy I’ve almost kissed, (but I turned my head). It was on him that I mastered the technique of a hand job. I am disgusted with myself just thinking about it, but I am grateful for God’s restraining grace in my life back then. As much as I defiled myself and my future marriage bed, He never allowed me to go all the way…I was too afraid because of the things I had been taught in sex-ed and the influence a Christian teacher in school who begged us not to use drugs or have sex (even passing out abstinence cards for us to sign).

I am still repulsed by the things I actually did do, I tell myself often that that too was covered by the blood of Christ. But it is moments like the one I had today that send me spiraling into a sea of guilt…again. I’m realizing each day that until I deal with the guilt that still pains my soul, I will never be able to enjoy the true peace of fellowship with God.

Lord, help me to remember that Christ’s death is sufficient for all my sin-past, present, and future. Oh to grace how great a debtor!

[Via http://silentstruggle.wordpress.com]

UK charts: Bad Company 2 dominates News | Eurogamer

NO! I Am Not Kidding!

2010-03-07T09:53:00.000+02:00

From tiome to time the news, well political news, just fliggping boring and then there comes something that I just cannot resist…..

First…I will start with a joke……”How do nuns have sex?”……pause for thought……”they dress up like alter boys”…….

I know…I know…it was disgusting, tasteless, insensitive….but you gotts admit …damn funny!

Why would I tell a tasteless joke? Well, it seems that with all the bad press that the Catholic Church has gotten in the past couple of years….you would think that they could get a handle on the sex scandals…huh?

Reuters is reporting:

One of Pope Benedict’s ceremonial ushers and a member of an elite choir in St Peter’s Basilica have been implicated in a gay prostitution ring, in the latest sexual scandal to taint the Vatican.Ghinedu Ehiem, a Nigerian, was dismissed by the Vatican on Wednesday from the Giulia Choir after his name appeared in transcripts of police wiretaps, published by an Italian newspaper, in an unrelated Italian investigation.

Among four people arrested last month in the corruption probe was Angelo Balducci, a engineer who is a board member of Italy’s public works department and a construction consultant to the Vatican. Balducci was arrested on corruption charges and the allegatons of prostitution emerged only later.

Balducci is also a member of an elite group called “Gentlemen of His Holiness”, ushers who are called to serve in the Vatican’s Apostolic Palace on major occasions such as when the pope receives heads of state or presides at big events.

“Gentlemen of His Holiness””carried the coffin of the late Pope John Paul at his funeral in 2005.

A police document prepared for magistrates and published in part by La Repubblica said Balducci was in contact with Ehiem and an Italian who were part of what the police called “an organised network … to abet male prostitution”.

Apart from being a “Gentleman of His Holiness”, Balducci is listed in the Vatican’s directory as a consultant to a Vatican department that deals with missions and had close contacts with the Vatican during planning for events for the year 2000, when millions of pilgrims came to Rome for a special Holy Year.

Yeah…I bet it has “special”……

SIDE NOTE: It is official! The dinosaurs were killed by a meteor striking the earth…..okay..I missed something…I thought that was already settled….I guess I was mistaken….

[Via http://lobotero.wordpress.com]

Sony developing iPad competitor - report News | iPhone | Eurogamer

Sexy Big boobs – Anna Nicole Smith

2010-03-07T01:45:00.000+02:00

[Via http://gnkfun.wordpress.com]

Apple dates the iPad News | iPhone | Eurogamer

Having sex on camera... and just some updates

2010-03-06T17:47:00.000+02:00

Before I go on, let me clarify my title. I meant having “insinuated” sex on camera for prime time television. Not the nightvision sex tapes that get leaked when you become famous. haha

I just got booked for a sex scene that will air on a major broadcast network.

“it will be insinuated in the scene that you are having sex in a frat house. will be shirtless in bed with a girl. modesty clothing provided. covered from the waist down. must be comfortable with the situation and implications.” Would you? I have no problem with this, heck id do it nude, I’m a method actor! hahaha On other note, Just walked out of a Absolut Vodka Casting and walking into the next in a few minutes. Also working on “The Good Wife” this week and hopefully shooting the Absolut gig midweek. I’ve been working non stop since i got back from LA and I also gave the Alaska plans a YES, just awaiting a final call back. I think it’s time for a vacation.

[Via http://mikechan007.wordpress.com]

Sony developing iPad competitor - report News | iPhone | Eurogamer

Macam-Macam Penyimpangan Seksual

2010-03-06T01:22:00.000+02:00

Dalam bahasa medis, penyimpangan seksual disebut parafilia. Asalnya dari bahasa Yunani, para = samping, philia = cinta. Parafilia digunakan untuk menyebut sifat dan perilaku serta ketertarikan seksual yang di luar kebiasaan serta di luar kewajaran. Ada beberapa macam, antara lain:

Homoseksual, mengacu pada kelainan interaksi seksual dan/atau romantis antasa pribadi yang berjenis kelamin sama. Kata homoseks digunakan untuk hubungan intim dan/atau hubungan seksual di antara orang berjenis kelamin yang sama. Istilah gay pada mulanya digunakan untuk pengacu pada orang-orang yang mengidentifikasi dirinya sebagai homoseks. Tanpa memandang jenis kelamin. Belakangan, gay digunakan untuk mengacu laki-laki homoseksual. Sedangkan kata lesbian digunakan untuk merujuk wanita homoseksual. Homoseksual termasuk perbuatan dosa yang tua. Ribuan tahun yang lalu, kaum Luth di kota Sodom dan beberapa kota tetangga telah melakukan hal ini. Kata sodomi, perbuatan bersetubuh melalui dubur diturunkan dari nama kota Kum Luth ini. Istilah sodomi kemudian menjadi sebutan bagi aksi ngeseks via dubur baik pada pasangan sesama jenis maupun dengan pasangan perempuan, bahkan pada istri sendiri. Entah dengan siapa pun, sodomi dalam kacamata Islam merupakan penyimpangan dan dan termasuk perbuatan maksiat.

Sadomasokisme, sadisme mengacu pada penyimpangan seksual di mana pelaku merasakan kenikmatan seksual saat menyiksa pasangan seksnya. Sedangkan masokisme mengacu pada penyimpangan seksual saat pelaku merasakan kenikmatan seksual saat disiksa pasangannya. Sadomasokismen digunakan untuk menerangkan kemunculan perilaku sadisme atau masokisme pada seseorang sebagai penyimpangan yang berdiri sendiri atau untuk mencakup keduanya.

Eksibisionisme, masih ingat stiker tidak senonoh bergambar orang yang memperlihatkan pantatnya yang sempat ngetren beberapa waktu lalu? Itulah praktik eksibisionisme. Penyimpangan ini disebut juga apodisofilia ini merupakan penyimpangan seks di mana pelakunya senang memperlihatkan bagian tubuhnya yang seharusnya tertutup kepada orang lain. Penderita penyimpangan seksual ini akan suka dan terangsang jika orang lain takjub, terkejut, takut, jijik, dan lain sebagainya.

Onani atau masturbasi, Nah ini dia yang sering dilakukan para remaja, Onani atau masturbasi sebenarnya berdefinisi sama, yaitu merangsang alat kelamin sendiri baik dengan tangan maupun alat bantu sehingga mencapai kepuasan seksual atau sampai keluar sperma. Ada yang berpendapat bahwa sebutan onani khusus untuk praktek begituan yang dilakukan laki-laki, sedangkan masturbasi adalah sebutan praktek begituan untuk kedua jenis kelamin, laki-laki dan perempuan.

Fetishisme, adalah suatu penyimpangan seksual di mana pelakunya suka menyalurkan nafsu seksnya dengan cara beronani dengan benda-benda mati seperti gaun, pipa, bola lampu, dan sebagainya.

Voyeurisme, pelaku penyimpangan seks ini mendapat kepuasan seksual dengan melihat diam-diam atau mengintip orang lain (baik sejenis kelamin atau tidak) yang sedang telanjang, menaggalkan pakaian, atau melakukan hubungan seksual. Kelainan ini disebut juga skopofilia. Anehnya, pelaku voyeurisme sama sekali tidak mengiginkan berhubungan seksual dengan orang yang diintip. Ia cuma berharap memperoleh kepuasan orgasme dengan cara masturbasi selama atau sesudah mengintip. Berbeda dengan orang yang normal, penderita voyeurisme sudah terpuaskan tanpa harus melakukan senggama. Nggak seperti anggapan orang, voyeurisme tidak dapat dilekatkan kepada penggemar film dan pertunjukan porno, karena para pemain film itu dengan sengaja menghendaki dan menyadari bahwa mereka akan ditonton orang lain. Sebutan voyeurisme hanya berkaitan dengan intip-mengintip. Voyeurisme sejati tidak akan terangsang jika melihat seseorang yang tidak berpakaian dihadapannya. Mereka hanya terangsang dengan melakukan pengitipan. Dengan mengintip mereka mampu mempertahankan keunggulan seksual tanpa mengalami resiko kegagalan atau penolakan dari pasangan yang nyata.

Pedofilia, adalah kondisi orang yang mempunyai ketertarikan atau hasrat seksual terhadap anak-anak yang belum memasuki masa remaja. Istilah ini seringkali ditujukan kepada orang-orang dewasa yang memiliki kondisi ini. Kadang istilah ini juga digunakan untuk merujuk kepada pelaku pelanggaran seksual kepada anak-anak.

Gerontofilia, kalo di atas suka sama anak-anak yang ini malah suka pada yang sudah kempot bin reyot. Gerontofilia adalah suatu perilaku penyimpangan seksual dimana sang pelaku tertarik dan mencari kepuasan kepada orang yang sudah berusia lanjut alias nenek-nenek atau kakek-kakek.

Bestialitas, adalah hubungan seksual antara manusia dengan binatang, contohnya manusia dengan kuda, anjing, sapi, kambing, ayam, bebek, kucing, babi, simpanse. Jika bestialitas adalah sebutan untuk aktivitas seksualnya, maka kecenderungan atau ketertarikan seksual manusia terhadap binatang disebut zoofilia.

Nekrofilia, adalah penyimpangan seksual dimana pelakunya suka ngeseks sama orang yang udah mati alias mayat. Dalam bahasa Yunani, nekro berarti mayat. Kelainan ini disebut juga thanatofilia atau necrolagnia. Masak ada yang beginian? Disebut-sebut tentu saja ada. Beberapa kebudayaan kuno melakukan beginian sebagai media berkomunikasi dengan jin. Sebagian ilmu sihir asli negeri ini juga mensyaratkan praktik menjijikkan ini juga. Dalam lintasan sejarah, tercatat Sersan Bertrand dari resimen ke-74 militer Prancis pernah membongkar kuburan beberapa wanita dan berhubungan seks dengan mayat wanita itu. Guido Henckel von Donnersmarck (mati 1916 M) juga diduga melakukannya dengan mayat istri pertamanya yang ia simpan dalam tangki alkohol raksasa. Ada juga orang bernama Henri Blot yang membongkar kuburan seorang penari balet, Fernande Mery, pada Maret dan Juni 1886M dan berhubungan seks dengan mayat itu.

Frotteurisme, merupakan kelainan seksual dimana pelakunya mendapatkan kepuasan seks dengan jalan menggesek-gesekkan bagian tubuhnya ke orang lain di tempat umum seperti kereta, pesawat, bis, atau konser musik. Aksi gesek-menggesek ini biasanya dilakukan dengan tangan atau juga dengan alat kelamin yang dikenakan pada sembarang tubuh korban, termasuk pada area kelamin korban. Mayoritas pelakunya adalah laki-laki dan kebanyakan korbannya adalah perempuan, walau ada juga perempuan yang melakukannya kepada laki-laki atau laki-laki kepada sesamanya. Orang dewasa yang melakukannya ke anak kecil juga ada.

Zina, adalah hubungan seksual yang dilakukan dengan orang yang bukan pasangan sah-nya, alias bukan suaminya atau bukan istrinya. Dengan definisi ini, sepasang remaja yang belum menikah jika nge-seks maka mereka disebut berzina. Seorang pria yang nge-seks sama wanita yang bukan istrinya juga disebut berzina. Ini juga termasuk incest, alias hubungan sedarah, atau hubungan seks sesame anggota keluarga sendiri non suami-istri seperti antara ayah dengan anak ceweknya, ibu dengan anak cowoknya, kakak dengan adiknya.

http://www.kaskus.us/showthread.php?t=2192856

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Foto Hot!!Adegan Mesum Lagi ML Di Mobil!!
Heboh!!Foto Trio Macan Tanpa Busana Beredar..

[Via http://ntunk.wordpress.com]

Molyneux: Natal improvements are "countless" | News

moody mojo

2010-03-04T09:44:00.000+02:00

My last post started me thinking about “mojo”. Where does mojo come from, and where does mojo go?

A wikipedia search reveals that ‘mojo’ is in fact an African-American magical charm bag used in hoodoo. A magical charm. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to infer that it is from these components, that the more famous usage of mojo as sexual power has been derived. Magic denotes something surprising, startling, and then, vanishing….how apt. Like Austin Powers, and these magical connotations, I often experience moments of magic mojo. My mojo and I share a strange relationship , as I’m informed do many women and their sexual prowess. One moment my mojo is draped over me like a mink fur, obtrusive and flamboyantly oozing sexuality. The next, my mojo is in hiatus. Hidden away for the winter to rest like a lazy brown bear hidden amongst layers of insulation and metres of snow. Sometimes best friends, sometimes more like estranged family members – my mojo is verging on bipolar. My poor, poor man.

Literature commonly attributes incidence of missing mojo to psychological factors – including depression, anxiety and intimacy. Not surprisingly, there is also a correlation between a loss of libido and physical wellbeing. More recently, a particular hormone released in times of stress has been identified as a culprit. Damn work. I knew somehow it was to blame.

In short, adopt a mantra of meditation, nutrition & fitness and one should expect to experience an increase in lovely, lusty libido. Check out these nutritional suggestions to increase sex drive.

[Via http://kreeate.wordpress.com]

The First: Barack Obama Book Review

Miyabi Ternyata Punya Usaha Sampingan Di Jakarta!!

2010-03-04T01:42:00.000+02:00

Siapa bilang Miyabi ga bs dtg ke Indonesia…

Liat nih gan…

http://www.kaskus.us/showthread.php?t=3108214

Cewek Indonesia Tersexy Saat Ini!!
Seorang Kungfu Master Tewas Karena Onani!!
Guru Wanita Yang 300x Memperkosa Muridnya!!
Seorang Pemerkosa Di Penjara 430 Tahun!!
Rekor Dunia Tergila Sepanjang Sejarah Kehidupan Manusia
Foto Pesta Bugil Para Model Di Hotel
Cewek Asia Terimut Saat Ini, Mirip Boneka
Boneka Salju Termesum
Film Jepang Paling Gila!!
Video Lucu : Cewek Paling Gampang Horny Di Dunia!
600 Orang Bugil Massal Di Mall!!
Heboh!!Maria Ozawa Tobat Ganti Nama Jadi Maria Az Zahra!!
Woe Ada Yang Berdiri Tuh??
Olahraga Porno??
Foto Hot!!Adegan Mesum Lagi ML Di Mobil!!
Top 10 Negara Paling “Horny-an”!!
Cewek Yang 10X Operasi Plastik Dalam Sehari!!
Body Painting Paling Indah & Keren!!
Foto-Foto Rahasia Manohara!!
Kepergok Warga, Pasangan Selingkuh Direndam Setengah Bugil!!
Artis-Artis Yang Kecanduan Sex
Maria Ozawa Jadi Model Iklan Di Kaltim!!
Mantan Raja Bokep Tobat Jadi Pedagang Sayur!!
Nenek-Nenek Tersexy Di Dunia!!
DJ Cewek Paling Sexy Sedunia!!
Hamil Karena Menelan Sperma!!
Foto Nakal Dian Satrowardoyo!!
Tentara-Tentara Cantik & Sexy!!
Kelakuan Bejat ABG Indonesia Jaman Sekarang!!
Pekerjaan Baru Maria Ozawa
Foto Sensasi Lady Gaga Bugil Dengan Kanye West!!
Cowok Tercantik & TerSexy Di Dunia!!
Cerita Lucu Miyabi
Fakta-Fakta FIlm Porno!!Must read..
Cewek Kick Boxing Tercantik & Sexy!!
Tahun Baru Banyak Lesbian & Gay Yang Menikah!!
Boneka “Mainan” Khusus Pria Dewasa!Gila..
Cewek2 Yang Malah Suka Jadi Korban Pelecehan Seksual!!
Cewek-Cewek Sexy Lagi Berantem!!Seruu..
Adegan Telanjang Leony Di Film Barunya!!
Akibat FREE SEX!!Must read..
Cewek Dengan Bibir TerSEXY Abad Ini!!
Video Cewek Dihajar & Ditelanjangi Di Riau!!
Heboh Pasangan Mesum Tertangkap Kamera Di Area Publik!!
Ketika Rasa Kangen Sudah Tak Tertahankan
Contoh “Pren Makan Pren”
Para Maniak Sex Yang “Extreme”!!
Foto Hot!!Adegan Mesum Lagi ML Di Mobil!!
Heboh!!Foto Trio Macan Tanpa Busana Beredar..

[Via http://ntunk.wordpress.com]

t r u t h o u t | Small Foreign News Staffs Threaten US Democracy

The sky wizard is plain evil

2010-03-02T09:49:00.000+02:00

A drum&bass compilation called Legally Stoned is the perfect background music to this little bit I’m going to write. I contemplated housing this blog post on my desktop, in eternal obscurity. Instead, I’ll put it online and dedicate it to one tall, big-boobed, blue-eyed, full-lipped, smart, sweet, hilarious blonde with whom I talk about sex way too comfortably.

When I found myself single after a very intense relationship ended, I went out. A lot. If anyone was going out, I was going too. I danced and danced and drank about 50 glasses of Sauvignon blanc that winter (rebel). I smoked pot with my friends and had a blast being young and happy. There just wasn’t a whole lotta action going on. Know what I’m saaaaayin’? Until one fine night, when I went out with a friend to this chill little funky lounge. We’d been there for a couple of hours when I saw him walk in.

He was tall – a little taller than I like ‘em but with great shoulders and looking mighty sharp in dark jeans. My friend readily approved. He chatted with friends, didn’t approach any girls, and none of them approached him either. Fuck it, I’d do it. I don’t know what the hell I said to him when I touched his shoulder, but we talked, exchanged numbers, got to our respective homes and continued to talk over the phone for hours. We met two nights later to talk some more in the dark, quiet booth we ended up choosing at the bar. I really liked him. He was smart, funny, attentive, kind, seemed genuinely interested in me, and had a gorgeous smile.

We went back to his place after the bar that night and I had that voice in my head telling me I was a slut. Then he switched into sexy sweatpants (I love sexy sweatpants), offered me a diet coke and turned on South Park.

You’re single, you haven’t had sex in a while, you’re horny but you don’t want to be a whore. So God sent you a hot-bodied, intelligent, funny, well-dressed, well-mannered, deep-voiced, good-music-loving motherfucking Adonis to watch the Casa Bonita episode with. Are you serious? It doesn’t matter that God doesn’t exist. It doesn’t matter if you don’t ever see him again. Jump him now, idiot.

So we started kissing and stuff. It got hot and heavy and we went to the bedroom.

Then the equipment wouldn’t work. At first it didn’t bother me at all, because I knew it eventually would. But no. Really. It didn’t work, no matter what. No matter WHAT.

Oh man! Sometimes that happens, was he drunk? Maybe he was just nervous, it’s happened to me before. Poor guy!

No, he was completely sober, and yes, I understand that. And honestly, I would’ve been OK with faulty equipment if it weren’t for how the rest went down. He didn’t know what he was doing… he was very confused. He was so confused I didn’t even know where to begin to help him. I was shocked at what was happening. It was a cruel joke. I could’ve been home sleeping with my dog. What the fuck.

We never spoke again. I was traumatized. I figured the worst case scenario would’ve been mediocre sex with Adonis. I didn’t imagine it could be so bad and strange and difficult that after months of celibacy and while tipsy on two beers I would truly wish I were home asleep instead.

It took me months and a 21 year-old Irish soccer player with a great sense of humor and the best-ever accent and word choice to restore my faith in men. It was a splendid and quick summer fling.

While my friend and I chatted about sex tonight (all the sex she’s having and I’m not); we agreed that my next boyfriend will be a lucky man. I know there’s only great (or at least mediocre) sex to be had. For my sanity, I have to believe it.

[Via http://nitewriting.wordpress.com]

Kids Prefer Cheese: News Tip

old/new boy, afghanistan guy and rape

2010-03-02T01:51:00.000+02:00

i haven’t written in awhile, a couple of days at least. i’ve been spending all of my time with a boy from my past. a boy whom i dated 7 years ago, and i find myself dating again…unfortunately for him, i’m just not that into him.

why then, would i say “yes” to a boy i didn’t have romantic feelings for when he asked me to be his girlfriend?

my ex-future husband is coming home from afghanistan next month. less than four weeks. i was completely stoked, ready to start a life with him and his daughter. i find out through facebook that he started dating a girl that he has never even met before. after he told me we were going to get married. i’ve had the thought of marriage in my head for quite some time now and he ruined it for me.

i’m not the best at being single. i’m extremely co-dependent. so when this boy came back into my life, i accepted his offer immediately. bad decision. i realized today that i’m really, REALLY not into him. now, is it because of afghanistan guy? or is it because of what happened two weeks ago…

so two weeks-ish ago i went out to a bar with a male friend. we went through four pitchers of beer (so he says). he told me the morning after on the phone that i was so shitfaced he had to carry me into my house and put me to bed. but that’s not where the night ends. he had sex with me. i had no intentions of sleeping with that man that night, or ever for that matter. he’s been a big-brother type for the past two years. AND, i was ON MY PERIOD. eww. fucking gross. so waking up to a sore vagina isn’t exactly the best news in the world. when i called him and confronted him he told me everything that happened.

i was raped five years ago…. and then two weeks ago this guy who i thought i could trust with my life takes advantage of me, and i feel like shit.

now this puts me in quite the situation. i want to be intimate with this old/new boy from my past, but i can’t bring myself to even kiss him. we went into his hot tub today, in bathing suits, and i had a panic attack from being almost nude in front of him. when i showered later, i kept freaking out because i thought he would come in the bathroom and see me naked. i’m so ashamed.

now this old/new boy and i have a lot of history. breaking up with him could be detrimental to our future friendship, but i can’t continue living a lie. or is it a lie? am i dating him to spite afghanistan guy? or am i trying to break up with him because of my recent brush with rape?

i can’t look him in the eyes. i feel fucking ashamed. what do i do? my dad thinks i should break up with him tomorrow, but my dad doesn’t know the whole story. my ma thinks i need to do whatever it takes to stay friends with old/new boy because of our history, but knowing him breaking up with him would break his heart.

why am i so desperate to find happiness, when it is literally right beside me?

[Via http://iampamplemousse.wordpress.com]

Arrowheadlines: Chiefs News 2/28 - Arrowhead Pride

2010-02-28T09:54:00.000+02:00

Quick Update:

The Vagina Monologues at Hunter College were amazing!!! I want to thank every women who preformed tonight, many of whom blew Eve Ensler away. I fell in love with each and every one of you. You are the locus of goodness and pussy power/cunt power/ righteousness/ good.

I am so excited to be at Hunter this time next year. I think any ideas I had about going to another CUNY school were totally dismissed tonight.

Pending essay completions review to follow

Tonight was the last night at Hunter but you should all go see a V-day event near you… until the violence stops.

[Via http://ariellecohen.wordpress.com]

Solidalliance new line-up of Crazy earphones is now available ...

I didn't want to post this on the blog or anything but here goes....

2010-02-28T01:37:00.000+02:00

I don’t want to die or anything but it would be kind of cool to sleep forever.

I don’t want to die or anything but those suicide pills look mighty tasty.

I don’t want to kill myself, but my carotid artery is pissing me off a lot.

I don’t wanna rob this bank or anything but fork it over!

I don’t want to run over these orphans or anything but no one will miss them.

I’m not suicidal but Mr. Spock sure inspired me to outweigh the needs of the me.

I sure don’t want to have an affair but my penis is in this lady pretty far.

I don’t want to die or anything but it would be kind of cool to veer off this cliff.

I don’t want to yell fire in a crowed theatre or anything but I did kind of start one just now.

I don’t wanna be an existentialist but I did just make god into a corpse.

I didn’t want to give you herpes but you sure looked like you needed some.

I didn’t mean to kill the guy or anything officer but he sure looked like he’d be better that way.

I don’t want to live in near absolute zero temperatures, but guys, let’s get our asses to Neptune!

I don’t want to starve my dog or anything but it’s a real pleasure not to feed it.

Listen, I wouldn’t pay for a prostitute — but you take checks right?

I don’t want to die in a vacuum but guys let’s depressurize this vacuum chamber while we’re still in it.

I am not father material but I sure spermed on your eggs!

I didn’t really want to pay for this prostitute but it looked like she had sex to sell and I had money to give.

Earthquakes aren’t my thing, I just like to chatter cities through tectonic shifts.

I don’t like to give people cancer, I just like to remove the protein structures in their cells that stop malignant run away cell growth.

Yeah, I support endangered species but I gotta eat this Koala.

I didn’t mean to drive in nontraffic areas only but all the other areas were occupied by automobiles.

I don’t wanna play God but seriously, get back in the Bio-vat!

I don’t want my lion to eat those people but I do want them to satiate its hunger.

I’m not a misogynist but spread ‘em bitch!

It’s not that I am against women’s rights, I just think they need to stay home more and tidy up…oh yeah and no voting.

It’s not that I was committing voter fraud, I just thought I’d vote for myself and then vote the way five other people would’ve voted like if they ever bothered to come out and vote.

I don’t wanna beat this joke to death, but here’s 30 more jokes in the formula.

I don’t want to tell you that your parents just died in an insensitive way but the dumbasses just drove their car off a cliff and turned into fiery corpses.

I don’t want to be difficult to communicate with but…

[Via http://carlsagansdanceparty.wordpress.com]

News Ticker: Bob Dylan, 50 Cent, Black Sabbath, David Byrne ...

utopia

2010-02-27T09:42:00.000+02:00

The waitress brings the scalding teapot to our table. She is tall and quiet, with a face like an open peony. I had watched her make my drink through furtive glances at the clock above her head. She’d dialed up a jet of almost-steam and sprayed it hard into steel and eager tea leaves, wielding boiling water with the casual indifference of many years’ practice. The out-in flick of a delicate stud from the flesh beneath her pillow lip is the sole betrayal of her hidden concentration as she makes her way over to us. Few seem to notice that fleeting dart of metal, that hint of doubt. To most, she makes it seem like balancing a breakfastful of plates, cups, spoons, knives and napkins is really no trickier than breathing.

I watch her as she walks her efficient waitress walk back behind the screeching coffee machine. After three years of passing in run-down corridors at university and the odd half-smile of mutual acknowledgement every now and then, we still don’t know each other’s names. Another thing she doesn’t know is that I’ve watched her shining nut-brown hair from the back row of countless lectures, my mind between her legs while my right hand made all the proper notes on dilated cardiomyopathy. So many times I wondered whom she went home to — a man, a woman, herself? — after the clock ticked past the hour and the class surged out of that grimy theatre like funnelled roaches.

I remember the year when her belly grew and grew, and then she stopped coming to lectures and then the next time I saw her it was small again. I once passed her as she huffed uphill behind a pram with a wayward shopping-trolley front wheel. In it, she pushed a baby girl with nut-brown hair and a face like an open peony. This morning, her uniformed black cotton clings to her stomach like the wrinkled skin on gone-cold custard. It reveals the only piece of her that is no longer smooth and crisp as a new apple, and somehow she is now more beautiful than ever. Her essence swims inside the jasmine tea that coils itself around me with its sweet corpse waft. I sip. I gulp. I drink her in, and burn myself ripe grapefruit pink on the inside.

There is toast, brittle and squeaking to the bite, and beside it a few neat squares of pale, dewy butter. I ate brittle, squeaking toast the morning after my last night beside another girl with nut-brown hair, although, in truth, the strongest memory I have of that final stay with her is one of loneliness and aching unfulfilment. Her family home smelled of baker’s yeast and the metallic tang of tank water. She was six months younger to the day, and she was ripe and lovely as a polished copper penny. She was stolen sherry, and breasts that filled my hands with unexpected weight, and yes, yes in the dim of bedrooms. She was the spike of grown-back hair that left me with my first beard rash of sorts, which everyone mistook for reassuring evidence that I’d been kissing boys. Years later, I would walk into a bakery only to feel that I was waiting at her kitchen bench again.

Her boyfriend was a redhead, just like me, and one day after school he left a lemon under one of my car’s windscreen wipers. It was squashed ragged, pulped to all but yellow rind beneath the fat tyres of his shining Commodore. There was a note: stay the fuck away from her you lezbo, and underneath, a picture of a bleeding, punctured cat with a carving knife through its heart. And so I stayed away. But today, she is spread before me on the table, the pale and dewy butter on my brittle toast. She drips into the bread and seeps onto the pristine white below for me to tidy-tidy with a licked finger.

There is jam; it is house-made, all red and syrupy and lumpy with whole berries. It is a cold and visceral déjà vu to one winter and a third girl with nut-brown hair, the last one I loved in secret. Her boyfriend of four months is at the pub, my boyfriend of five months is far away, and we are in her dorm room. I am dabbing Betadine onto the shallow slashes that cross-hatch the canvas of her upper thighs. The rust of iodine trickles and blotches stains all over sheets and clothes and skin; it mingles with the tacky blood that shrivels and darkens at the open edges of her cuts.

Two days before, she’d seen one pink line, and then another, appear on a white plastic stick as she slumped against the wall in the communal bathroom. She calculated three and a half months. But that bleak evening, she had sobbed and bitten her fist as the toilet filled with red and syrupy and lumpy, and then something grey, and then more red. And when it stopped, she broke her plastic safety razor open with a skill honed through long habit. Later, she bled raw grief onto my fingers as I tried to make it better with iodine and tears and fumbled kisses everywhere and did not succeed. But this morning, she is the sticky sweet on my toast, layered over butter and beside my jasmine tea.

They are already becoming my body as I finish the last few precious crumbs. I pick up my basket, cross the dark floor, and leave the café with the man I am to marry as the glass door to Utopia swings shut behind me.

[Via http://auburnette.wordpress.com]

FFI and II released on iPhone News | iPhone | Eurogamer

Eating Peeps & shit....

2010-02-27T01:56:00.000+02:00

Today was a day was a day. Got up around ten, watched a little tv, talked to Kevin again, killed a little time on the internet, got nothing done career wise and am currently battling a headache so would like to go veg in bed but alas dishes await. But candy is always a cure for your ills. Wish I had more but should probably rely on actual drugs for cranial pain. I don’t think either of us is getting the answers we want for each other & each time we talk we always get caught up in the stuff that is a result of the issue we never get around to discussing. Working backwards….we’ve talked about the date (as best as I could; I don’t think that’s something we’ll ever be on the same page about if only because of everything else). He apologized for Michele(which we haven’t really discussed either). But we still have not approached the cybering issue. Which is odd because that’s where I feel like all this started. Had I not caught him cybering, I wouldn’t have been hacking into his voicemail. I wouldn’t have discovered the voicemails. I wouldn’t have been searching for his usernames on the internet and seen that post. Getting the truth about his cybering was like pulling teeth so why would anything else be true? “We were just catching up.” “She’s just a old friend who wanted to show me her tattoo.” “Oh I mean yeah they were topless pictures.” “No I didn’t send those pictures of my cock to anyone. They were going to be a surprise for you.” The only straight truth he told me was that he used my camera. Which makes me go…”oh so you thought about me enough to use my camera but not to say this might be a bad idea?” But this issue we don’t discuss….and that’s why our respective sides just don’t make sense to each other. I feel like I’m supposed to be like “oh okay we’ll since you didn’t go on the date but I did in your situation then you deserve the forgiveness you gave me.” Dare me to ask why didn’t he? He stresses that he didn’t do it but neglects to tell me why not. So I can assume that his moral compass told him not to? Or to assume that plans fell through and they just hadn’t reconnected but had they, oh hells yes he would have gone? Afterall, they have chemistry and she finds it really hot that he tells her how much he wants to fuck her. Who am I to stand in the way of that? And he’s so caught up on technicalities. I asked him how his date was. He said I have no idea what you’re talking about I haven’t been on a date…which is true….but come on….technicality dude. There were plans for a date with a woman in his circle of friends. How can he claim to know nothing of it? Umm…by lying. But I’m the bitch for doubting everything else he says.

At the same time though, don’t pretend that precedent makes you doing the same thing I did YEARS AGO okay. Did we have a basis of mistrust & lies? Did we have a recent case of infidelity? No, we had an immature little college girl who didn’t want to do a long-distance relationship because HELLO! THEY DON’T WORK! We had an immature little college girl who had only one relationship (serious or not) in her life. We had an immature little college girl who thought we had discussed all of this years ago.

I feel like he doesn’t considering hooking up (virtual or IRL) so soon after as showing him as not caring or not regretting what he did. When I say “he moved on,” it wasn’t because of the dating…it was because of the fucking. Had he not immediately started hooking up after we broke up, then fine. Date someone else. He’s right. It’s been six months. Reflect and feel remorse for like two breaths before jumping back in though. But since that’s not how things went down, everything comes into play. Look, I get off-topic talking to myself. It’s like I need to do a line-by-line answer section what what he brought up earlier. I don’t know that would work either. I don’t think we’ll ever get to the point of discussing what actually went wrong and understanding each others point of view. I don’t think we have the answers (or the ability to provide them) that each other needs. Anytime we try, we just end up stuck on the perimeter stuff and not the root anyway. Pfff I have a new concept for up and coming couple counselors. Have your patients share a blog where you interject with your questions & observations and keep them on track.

I’m tempted to make this entry private because I’m sure we both tired of talking about this. I’m sure I’m just saying the same shit over and over again & it’s just gobbley goo every time. I put everything else out there though. Why not this? So what this entry was supposed to be: my day. S’ok. Lot of nothing accomplished. No job stuff. No money stuff. I haven’t even put the stuff from my shopping trip up. I did do some housecleaning on Twitter. Haven’t made it through my lists but one step is better than none. Still debating starting a new blog. All of my blogs have been nothing but me obsessing over some random topic but not actually doing anything about it. I doubt a new one would be any different and probably shouldn’t waste my time trying to make it be. We’ll see though. Made some burgers. They were really good. Umm….watched some tv. Did some internet surfing. The usual. Basically, I should have just stayed in bed……yeah….new goal-oriented blog….totally not going to fly. I’m gonna go do the dishes now. Exciting I know.

….. Wow that’s a lot longer than I intended to speak about it.

[Via http://megalolicious.wordpress.com]

News Ticker: Bob Dylan, 50 Cent, Black Sabbath, David Byrne ...

Gender-Specific Driving Etiquette

2010-02-25T09:52:00.000+02:00

A woman is driving at night on a narrow country road. At the same time, a man is driving in the opposite direction on that same road.

Never underestimate a woman driver!

When they narrowly pass each other at high speed, the woman rolls down her window and loudly shouts – HORSE! Immediately the man shouts back – BITCH!

The man laughs. He is proud to have reacted so quickly to the shouting woman and takes the next turn in the road, maintaining his high speed.

Moral of the story:

Men never listen, and when they do, they don’t understand one word a woman says.

NOW THAT IS WACKED!

Special Thanks to Glenda Gomez for this great pic and story! Bless our e-mail box.

[Via http://thatswacked.wordpress.com]

Media Matters: Another Bad Week For Fox News Graphics | Crooks and ...

Be manly or go home

2010-02-25T01:43:00.000+02:00

I hear quite often (in fact, it might even be considered bitching!!!) from guy friends about how “all the girls just want to date bad boys”. Apparently, it’s an epidemic. Personally I think it is a misinterpretation.

Women don’t want to date “bad boys”. When I think of a bad boy I think of someone with limited education, a criminal record and an overabundance of tattoos. Not sexy.

Women just don’t want to date wimps. Period.

Someday, if I'm a nice boy I may get to touch a boob. Maybe...

Let me break this down for you. That’s right. Grab pad and pencil because The Love Doctor is about to speak.

A wimp is about as likely to get a woman turned on as Conan The Barbarian is to take part in Swan Lake.

Ignore these helpful tips and you are on your own. I even know where you’re going to be sitting…in that delightful little place ALL women have called “the friend zone.” Seriously, we’ve got a seat all reserved for you.

To begin, women DO love a kind and sensitive man they can trust who treats them with respect. However, there are times when too much chivalry becomes a handicap. If I am on a date and I am feeling lukewarm about a guy, wimpy behavior will ALWAYS kill my girly hard on.

"May I please touch your boob? Please?"

Example: “Can I kiss you?” I am a big fan of manners but if things are going the way they should be, I will be sending you signals. NEVER ASK. If you have to ask, it would probably be a very bad idea. Strike “probably”, it IS a bad idea.

Example: “Can I hold your hand?” I have to admit, from the female perspective, it is really sexy when the guy just casually and naturally reaches down and takes my hand in his. It could be while we are crossing a street or sitting in a cab. It’s a turn on. However, the catch is, it cannot look contrived or as if you put a load of time into thinking about it or getting your nerve up. Guys, don’t take her hand if yours is clammy, wait until you’ve chilled the fuck out if you’re feeling nervous.

Look what happens when you say "yes" to the guy who asks permission. Geeky babies...on the upside though, they will probably always obey you.

The point here is, it’s weird if you ask to do “xyz”…the woman wonders, “what next? May I remove your bra?” Or “pardon me, I was wondering if I could have your permission to have sexual intercourse with you this evening?” It’s an ugly, downward spiral. You don’t want this. Trust me.

EMBRACE your inner manly man.

Before you run to kill a twelve pack and crush the empty cans against your head listen for a minute.

I’m not talking a

Han Solo doesn't ask permission. Han Solo is like a chocolate lava cake served on a chocolate platter with a side of new designer shoes and...well.. you get the idea.

bout benching 300 or being able to catch a hockey puck in your teeth. What I am trying to say is women like a man who knows his own worth. A man who has the ability to walk the very fine line between egotistical and confident behavior. Confident and attentive men don’t need to ask for permission. They pay attention to the situation and if they feel that the light is green, they go for it. They don’t talk about it….and it’s smokin’ hot when they go for it.

www.blogsurfer.us

[Via http://heatherbjones.wordpress.com]

LG introduces 3 new 1.3kg Notebook in Korea with the X-Note Mini ...

Final Fantasy XIII's Serah Based Off A Hentai Character?

2010-02-23T09:24:00.000+02:00

A new Final Fantasy XIII character was recently revealed in the form of Lightning’s younger sister, Serah. But some people have noticed that she bears a striking resemblance to Kurumi Imari, a character in the strange high-school hentai game Bible Black, and some even claim that Imari’s appearance was inspiration for the character. While there are some similarities in both their hair and clothing, I’d personally chalk it up to being a coincidence.

[Via http://sbshackd.wordpress.com]

ABC News: Expert says electronic design flaw to blame in runaway ...

Biblical Erotica, with an S/M Twist

2010-02-23T01:35:00.000+02:00

A threesome with a curious turn, as Phinehas ’spears’ an Israelite man and Midianite woman (Genesis 25) while they are engaged in the act. Phinehas was able to penetrate both of them – quite a feat that has not been repeated since. But, once again we cross that invisible beyond which artists have generally not wished to go … except for:

[Via http://stalinsmoustache.wordpress.com]

News to know: Devil Mountain Software; Lower Merion laptops ...

Traieste cu pasiune !

2010-02-21T16:17:00.000+02:00

Saptamana asta am fost la concertul lui Puya, apoi la cel al lui Connect-R. Impresiile au fost pe masura artistilor(daca-l pot numi asa pe Puya). Diferenta dintre cei doi a fost ca intre vinul rosu si vodka ce se vinde in paharele la buticul din colt J E adevarat ca stilurile abordate de cei doi sunt oarecum diferite, totusi racnetele(ca altfel nu pot sa le spun) in microfon ale lui Puya sub nici o forma nu pot fi numite nici hip hop, rap sau orice alt stil. Recunosc, imi plac unele piese ale lui, atat timp cat nu sunt cantate live. Lasand la o parte capacitatea de a sustine un concert live, Puya nu are nici charisma unui artist care sa poata surprinde publicul cu ceva deosebit. De departe se vedea ca a venit sa urle o ora in microfon , sa-si ia banii si sa plece. Cel putin asa mi-a lasat mie impresia…

La celalalt pol, Connect-R, care nu prea ma impresionase pana atunci in mod deosebit, m-a uimit prin prestatia sa scenica, prin simplitate, voce(canta foarte bine live) si nu in ultimul rand prin faptul ca a pus suflet. Se vedea ca omul asta inafara de a face bani, canta din placere. A revigorat si a innebunit toata lumea din club prin prezenta sa.

Acelasi lucru se intimpla si in viata de zi cu zi. Cei care traiesc cu pasiune, fac lucrurile din placere si dau dovada de multa energie, sunt ca un magnet pentru ceilalti oameni. E ca sexul. Daca-l faci cu placere se numeste dragoste, daca faci sex de necesitate se numeste simplu: sex. Eu vreau sa cred ca tot ce facem vine din suflet. De asta intotdeauna trebuie sa faci ceea ce vrei tu nu ce iti spun altii ca ar trebui. Trebuie sa crezi ce vrei tu nu ce iti spun altii ca ar fi mai bine. Trebuie sa gandesti si sa actionezi asa cum simti tu. Oamenii care fac lucrurile din pasiune sunt acele persoane care traiesc cu adevarat, gresesc ireversibil, invata usor si mereu merg cu capul sus.

P.S.: TOT CE TREBUIE SA FACI ESTE SA FII TU…INDIFERENT DE CE INSEAMNA ASTA

[Via http://postscriptumblog.wordpress.com]

Hot Air » Blog Archive » Friday night news dump: No DOJ discipline ...

Perhaps We Think About Homosexual Too Much

2010-02-21T01:50:00.000+02:00

I can’t help but think at times about how hung up we all are about sex. I say “we” as in the proverbial ”we,” as in no one is excluded. We use sex for everything; it’s pretty much just like any other commodity. Women use sex to get guys to do what they want. Men use sex (for everything). Advertisers use sex to sell just about anything short of baby food. Why? Because we love it!

But it’s not without its hang-ups. Specifically, I’m thinking sex and how it pertains to homosexuals.

Over a matter of time in our little history in this country, we’ve watched homosexuals struggle for equal rights, slowly coming out of the closet full of fear of what the ignorant and angry might do to them. And slowly they’ve had less and less to fear by means of retaliation for their… well, for being them. But I’ve had a hard time trying to grasp onto the WHY. Why are homosexuals so disliked? Why do people get disgusted with them, to the point of hatred sometimes? It just doesn’t seem to make sense.

But then I thought about it some more. I think it’s because they’re called homoSEXUALS. These people, who’s faces cringe at the thought of a homosexual couple, can’t distinguish the 95% of their lives they spend doing the same things everyone else does, such as go to work, cook dinner, go shopping, from what they do that last 5% of the time: have sex (by the way, I wish we were all so lucky as to have sex for 5% percent of our life!).

From the heterosexual’s point of view, they don’t want to think about that! But they do. But really, they should stop it. That’s sick! I don’t go up to couples walking down the street and to their face act horrified by the idea of what they do in the bedroom.

But I won’t blame this whole thing on heterosexuals being scared of what they don’t understand. I think this whole thing can be taken care of right now with a simple twist in semantics. I propose that instead of homosexuals, we now use the term homolovables. Because, let’s face it, that 5% quote above, even that’s a stretch. But especially to our GLBT brethren out there who are in committed relationships, they spend far more of their time in love.

That’s my proposition. Homolovables: Say it with me! I say we all get our heads out of the gutters and start treating people like people; ie. how we want to be treated. I’d like to think we’re all adult enough to stop playing foolish games like denial of equal rights just because someone’s different. Haven’t we gone through all that already?

[Via http://mavinb.wordpress.com]

New PAL Releases Roundup News | Eurogamer

Tiger Woods Sincerely Insincerely Apologizes

2010-02-20T09:33:00.000+02:00

A tearful Tiger Woods apologized to his wife, his kids, his parents, his fans, everyone in the room, everyone watching on television, and to a potted fern next to the lectern for having the kind of sex life most men only dream about.

Because the soulless ratings whores in the news media saturated the universe with Woods’ private sexual escapades with real whores, Woods had no choice but to read a carefully prepared statement to a room full of carefully picked spectators, without answering any questions that aren’t anyone else’s business anyway. At one point he held his onion-drenched hands up to his eyes and cried. Then he hugged his mom and ran like hell back into “rehab”.

What kind of rehab? Probably he sits in a quiet room while someone with a calculator adds up all the money he’s lost in endorsements and winnings, while Tiger studiously chants “money not pussy, money not pussy,…”.

Many of the companies Woods worked for as a pitchman have said they will take him back now that doing so has the least shred of respectability attached to it, no matter how tenuous. They of course have not apologized for over-reacting in the first place and dropping him because they are fearful mercantile whores.

And one of the whores Woods had sex with has hired attorney-to-the-scummy Gloria Allred and held a press conference where she claims Woods lied to her. She claims he said he loved her, and that she was the only woman he was cheating on his wife with. Allred will seek undetermined damages for Woods deceitful behavior in lying to the woman who was screwing him behind his wife’s back.

Elin Woods, Tiger’s wife, was not present at the completely spontaneous scripted and planned apology. She has not decided yet if she will stay with Woods, or leave him to do her own reality show “I Can Now Make More Money Than He Did By Being A Victim”.

[Via http://gracelessland.wordpress.com]

Lucas store sells Star Wars stuff in Home News | MMO | Eurogamer

Flickrotica

2010-02-20T01:34:00.000+02:00

Some of the stranger erotica you’ll find on Flickr…

Blue & Bald. Like your girls with that cue ball look, Keith Allen Phillips will make you happy!

Send in the Clowns. Signe Kristine’s stream is more than a little weird.

She’s A Very Rare Bird. Josh Exell’s stream is another offbeat photostream.

Like an Egyptian. Austin TX has girls, nude girls and definitely strange girls…

Mrs. Cyclops. When viewing Eroganza’s photostream think pretzels.

Backtalk Baby. Amazingly, the rest of Maxim Off’s ’stream is virtually normal!

Beyond Twisted. Some artists are so weird they defy definition. d.rex is for sure one them…

Masked for Painting. The rest of Cameraforaface’s stream has some fine bondage photos!

[Via http://cliffmichaels.wordpress.com]

Google News Prototype?

Happyness, music, life and flights to Los Angeles

2010-02-18T09:33:00.000+02:00

So, I am facing 36 hours of no sleep almost: this night at 4.30 am the Lakers battle the Celtics at Staples Center after having won the first game post ASG, and Kobe the God won’t probably be there again.

Kobe still not playing also after All Star Game

*sigh*.

But I want him to heal for April so it’s all okay. I am just sad to not have him cos Celts can be tricky and I always love to beat them.

We can still beat them also without Kobe, but with him I was SURE we would have eventually prevailed, while now a little bit of Fate is upon us.

Let’s see.

I will be watching a battle and I like it.

Half of the game will be actually watched by me and Karim on our way to the airport for catchin the flight to New York and then from there takin the one to Los Angeles.

The awesome Kobe

You know… the 18 hours stop there only.

The stop that among my business meeting will see Karim and I have *some fun* along Mashudo, again.

Whoooooo!!!! Who wanna sleep actually???

I don’t

The tattoo keeps buggeringme but now less. So I should be fine by the time it’s needed. And my “bloody days” are ending as well.

TMI?

I did not ask you to read here.

You know I am extremely open about natural stuff.

But okay, I let you have some Kobe’s eye candy now.

He’s the Man of the Year (right) for GQ and he had an amazing photoshot and interview:

Check Kobe’s out in GQ

After the sporty bites, let’s now dwell into what makes me shine the most, (ah: if you wonder why I cut the sport section without discussing of the awfulness that was Milan VS Manchester United on Tuesday, be charming, please. I was at the STADIUM. It was like witnessing a friend’s death. I can’t speak of that. I am still grieving… let me forget it ever happened, okay? thank you), namely MUSIC, of course.

Still amazed at the way Adam totally sounded like Stevie Wonder on We Are The World 25 (I adore when he sings in normal vocal tone, his voice is soooooo precious and unique), let me give you some info bites and share a couple more videos.

Slash has talked a bit with Los Angeles Times about his incoming April album.

He was actually the one coming to Adam for it!!! Man, when I read that I was amazed.

Man knows what to look for.

Read it yourself:

Slash interview about his solo records, and guests on it

Talkin about the Divine Creature, he spoke again hours ago, with a short message that is so easy to decode it’s unreal .

He wrote just:

“I love today”.

Adorable he is. Guess the past 8 days have been so totally perfect for him. Well, I had no doubt being in Vegas surrounded by models would have pleased him. But I guess he’s in his usual “15 days of compulsive sex with the partner of the time” “15 days of involvment” pleasant rush now, which makes sense.

I know that when he’s happy, I am happier. I might kid on his sexual compulsions, but I actually don’t, cos being very similar to him in some of these stuff, I see where he comes from and what he is in real search of.

I know when he will find the right one he will slow down his antics. Just like I did. But until then, darn, I rejoice thinkin of the fun he shares. And I TOTALLY back him on that. Go baby

So it’s all okay. Have fun and be happy, Adam. I so love thinkin of you shining (I wrote him back exactly that on twitter).

More surprisingly music bites, beside the impressive chart performances of Sade (LOVE the Queen Sade) and of We Are The World 25 (in merely two days… take that, useless and tasteless critics…;)) comes from the most unexpected source.

The Osservatore Romano (Catholic Roman Church and Vatican daily newspaper) listed 10 albums which are in their opinion the best music offered in decades and which should save music listeners from the Sanremo (Italian music festival, currently on) garbage.

I was shocked, pleased and utterly amazed when I read that.

This is the surprising list (and amazingly good) the Osservatore Romano made up (chronological order):

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Revolver Beatles (1966)
If I could only remember my name David Crosby (1971)
The dark side of the moon Pink Floyd (1973)
Rumours Fleetwood Mac (1977)
The nightfly Donald Fagen (1982)
Thriller Michael Jackson (1982)
Graceland Paul Simon (1986)
Achtung baby U2 (1991)
(What’s the story) Morning glory? Oasis (1995)
Supernatural Santana (1999)

Seems that Oasis, now that they are disbanded, are starting to gain the deserved recognition for having been one of the most influential, imitated, musically mattering and driving forces in the past times. Practically all of the musicians I love that were FOLLOWING their creation and birth claim they love and owe to them (included my babies’, sweet Maroon5 of course).

It’s a joy to see these shows of respect. Finally.

Enjoy the video of Morning Glory, so to keep celebrating the totally deserved (sorry, beloved Coldplay, but you also know this is right) achievement for “Album of the past 30 years” Oasis had at this week Brit Awards:

(I won’t try to comment on Liam’s behaviour…. guy is made so, we can’t really change that…)

Talkin about talent, and the way talent can actually create beauty out of garbage, check this AWESOME version of the forgettable “Don’t Stop The Music” (the dance trash track Rihanna did… well, the dance trash track Autotune did for Rihanna, at least) by Jamie Callum. I was blown away by how good this is.

The lyrics seem to gain a decent sense sung and played so soulfully.

I immediately bought it from iTunes.

Ah, the good talent can actually do…:

It’s really a MAJOR step up. anybody graced with a pair of ears MUST see this.

Okay.

This long, hectic, infinite day is on and I have to take this meeting for drawng the final lines on the biz that comes up Saturday.

I hope Los Angeles’ weather will at least be fair. I know I can’t cruise this time, but I love the warmth and the sun there in Winter. It sets me up right.

Tonight, battle with Celts is on.

Watchin half of it while driving to airport and being in Malpensa will make me look like an ass but who cares. And then Karim’s there, so… who cares. I have all that I am in need of.

Catch you of course as I get back from USA.

I guess prior to it will be impossible.

You know, threesomes and all that will make us being pretty taken away

Be shining!!

I will *def* be.

[Via http://zairaamaterasu.wordpress.com]

AMERICAblog News: Second-ranking Taliban leader captured

sex (and maybe love) with robots

2010-02-18T01:52:00.000+02:00

with the publication of David Levy’s Love and Sex with Robots in 2008, more people than probably should have started thinking about the precisely those things in the future. will it be possible to have meaningful, even romantic relationships with robots in the future? is this an inevitability? what, then, is the future of human relationships?

while the answers to these questions may still be uncertain, one thing is sure: people will definitely be banging robots (which, by the way, is going to make it pretty awkward if/when they become self-aware…). after all, if a disproportionate amount of money and medical research has gone into guaranteeing that men way past their reproductive prime can still have sex, then we’d be kidding ourselves to think that a good deal of money won’t find its way into this area of “research,” wherever it may come from.

the latest development, in any case, comes from Germany, where the company First Androids has created a sex doll that breathes, has a pulse, and responds to organism (it comes equipped with a fake g-spot). oh, and it can be put into multiple positions, of course.

over at Jezebel, Kate Harding discusses some of the glaring problems of these types of dolls, particulary the extent to which “they’ll only contribute to a thriving culture of misogyny that reinforces unhinged lonely dudes’ belief that women’s ability to refuse sex is an abstract problem to be solved.” She continues,

There’s nothing inherently wrong with banging an inanimate object — who among us hasn’t? But there’s a lot wrong with blurring the line between inanimate object and female human being so aggressively that the primary distinction becomes her capacity for consent — and the lack thereof becomes the fake version’s chief selling point. There’s a big difference between wanting to simulate the bullet points of real sex, and wanting to simulate every last detail save the humanity of the person you’re screwing. [emphasis added]

of course, this is based on an understanding of sex dolls as a temporary replacement for real sex with real women — but what happens when sex robots (or robots more generally, with which we just happen to have sex) replace relations with the opposite sex entirely?

in a 1997 article discussed at Paleo-future, Joel Snell wrote about some of the potential impacts of sex with robots in the future. among the consequences, he foresaw “technovirgins” — those who have never had sex with another human being — addiction to sex with robots, experimentation with sexual orientation, and perhaps the destruction of existing marriages (not to mention their prevention). the troubling thing here, once again, is the prevalent idea — seen as an incentive — that sexbots “won’t say no” and “will never have a headache or demand alimony.” yikes.

will sex with robots replace sex with other human beings? it seems doubtful as long as people still crave love and genuine interaction with other people — consent and all — especially since there’s more to sex than a relatively warm body stored conveniently nearby. but what happens if/when we begin to have genuine interactions and emotional relationships with robots in general?

this, obviously.

and it will be our only hope.

[Via http://futuresends.wordpress.com]

Nintendo renews Eternal Darkness mark News | Wii | Eurogamer

And The Winner Isnt (Original Screenplay)

2010-02-16T09:40:00.000+02:00

Scrolling through the list of nominees for this year’s Academy Awards it dawns on me just how few movies I’ve been to see over the past 12 months. I saw Up on a plane and Hurt Locker on DVD. Although a huge movie fan, I’ve always shied away from going to the cinema, preferring to wait til the DVD release. Yes, I’m fully aware that films were made to be watched on the big screen, but it’s always been a less than underwhelming experience for me.

Whatever The Drifters may think, Saturday Night at the Movies was always a wasted night for me. I could never get comfortable, movie houses having a penchant for packing you in, in rows of seats with airliner leg-room. You couldn’t get a beer (well not in the UK anyway), which means 2 1/2 hours of your weekend wasted, and I always manage to sit in front of someone annoying bastard from one of the following categories:

1. He’s seen the movie before and would give his mates/girlfriend a commentary of the film, using helpful phrases like “oh, this is a good bit” or reciting the upcoming line 2 seconds before it was delivered.

2. He’s bought out the concessions stand in the foyer and would rustle and chomp his way through the whole movie, right in your ear hole.

3. Him and his missus are copulating throughout the film with the accompanying squeaks, giggles and groans being very off-putting. And it’s even worse if the couple happen to be sitting in front of you. A silhouetted head bobbing up and down in the row in front of me once made me miss every third frame of Schindler’s List

4. He laughs heartily at every single gag in the movie, as if he was the scriptwriter.

5. He’s pissed, so all of the above could apply.

And before you tell me that multiplexes now have huge sofas and bars with proper food and drinks served to you, it’s too late. The die has been cast, and anyway it’ll still be full of gits.

No, even for one with such tolerance for and love of my fellow man, I prefer to watch my films at home from the comfort, peace and quiet of my own sofa, where the only sound is the door of the fridge opening when the Incumbent opens another couple of beers.

It’ll be the first time in ten years that I won’t be participating in TIME magazine’s Oscar Sweep, where we’d predict/guess who will win which category. But seeing as I’ve watched very few movies this year my chances of winning would be, at best, minimal. Although some of the awards they hand out are so obscure that it’s a complete lottery anyway (who makes notes on their favourite Writing from an Adapted Screenplay ? Certainly not that girl sitting in the row in front of me blowing her boyfriend)

So when the time comes I will be hoping that Hurt Locker romps home with the award for Best (Only)Nominated Picture Seen by Me This Year and UP walks away with Best Animated Feature shown by Oman Air Last November.

Obviously we’ll all be biting our nails, hoping Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen wins in the category of Sound Mixing.

[Via http://bealing.wordpress.com]

Gravity of News Seems to Escape NBC -- Olympics -- 2010 Winter ...

Make Art, Make Love...

2010-02-16T01:55:00.000+02:00

There are a few things in this world that get me inspired…music….love….the usual. But I found something today that got me excited. Rose Orange. Rose Orange has been introduced to me by the lovely redjotter and I am feeling inspired.

“Rose Orange: Make Love, Make Art”

Isn’t that beautiful? Rose Orange wants to show the world the complexity, intensity, subtlety and beauty of love, in many ways, shapes and forms and from many different makers.

So if you are someone with a creative output (jeweller, illustrator, poet, fine artist, etc) and have ideas or discussions based around this topic then Rose Orange wants to hear from you.

The work that I produce is inspired by love. Love between friends, siblings or lovers. Love can be pure, funny, heart wrenching, twisted, confusing, it can be hard work, unreal, it can be simply perfect. Whatever form love takes I try and translate that into jewellery. A narrative if you like.

Blood, Sweat & Tears. What really goes into a relationship...

Maybe Rose Orange would like to hear from me? This could be the project that sparks off an exciting range of jewellery from Vanilla Ink.

[Via http://vanillaink.wordpress.com]

Refinery29 Raises Seed Funding For Hyperlocal Fashion News Site

Real Street Angel

2010-02-14T09:55:00.000+02:00

http://wp.me/pOl2p-J

[Via http://blues999.wordpress.com]

Friday Morning News and Views « The Confluence

FREE SIGNUP * - Dating with Polish Girl Guide - * SINGLES DATING

2010-02-14T01:54:00.000+02:00

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[Via http://popki001.wordpress.com]

Bloomberg News Files 'Extraordinary Lawsuit' To Crack Fed Secrecy ...

Man chops off penis at Hong Kong airport

2010-02-13T09:27:00.000+02:00

Today Yahoo News reports about a rather interesting incident that occurred late January. Turns out a 24-year old Thai chopped off part of his dick at our airport and happily tried to board the plane home after.

When Ekphala Ploykaew suddenly felt the need for amputation at 5 am, he managed to find his way to the back entrance of Popeyes Chicken & Biscuits and grab an 8 inch knife.

An hour later, a toilet cleaner called airport security as he found a pool of blood on the floor in one of the cubicles. As you can imagine, the search for a man with a bloody pair of pants on didn’t take that long. A wound was found on Ploykaew’s penis and flesh was missing as well. He was charged with stealing and received a 14-day jail sentence.

bron: thedarkside.hk [10-2-2010]

[Via http://wocview.wordpress.com]

Disney, Warner, Viacom pose "serious threat" to publishers | News

Three Things That I've Learned Today....

2010-02-13T01:52:00.000+02:00

1. Stop, drop, and roll doesn’t work in Hell.

2. If you mis-type “wordpress” by one letter, you get a really shocking surprise by getting a XXX rated site. Want me to tell you which letter to type wrong? Well, not gonna. Nasty little boys and girls will just have to go thru each letter one by one.

3.Food stamps and welfare really get people to respond on a local forum……Food Stamp Fatties as does this meth-head.

[Via http://trailerparkbarbie.wordpress.com]

News Fail - FAIL Blog: Epic Fail Pictures and Videos of Owned ...

What Would Jesus NOT Do?

2010-02-11T09:36:00.000+02:00

Hello world!

Well, my attempts to go to bed early have failed once more, for it is 1am, and I am still awake. But, alas, I figured I would update you before I hit the hay.

I just got finished watching one of my favorite movies (Choke (2009)) with my next door neighbor and her boyfriend…. and I can’t help but feel a little messed up after watching it with them.

You see, I’m a huge fan of Chuck Palahniuk’s work, Fight Club, Invisible Monsters, Survivor (which is quite possibly my favorite of all his novels), and of course Choke. And keeping with his average style, Choke is a story about a messed-up guy who finds himself within a very messed up world.

So, the main gist of the movie/book is this: Victor (played by the dashing Sam Rockwell) is a sex addict who works as “the backbone of colonial America” (aka he’s one of those people who reenact life back in the 1600s). At the same time, he is trying to support his mother, who is living in a mental institute for demensia. He struggles with his addiction, his mother, the hot new doctor at the institute, all while choking on food at restaurants to get money. But when he finds out that he is the half-clone of Jesus Christ, he now reassesses his whole existence.

Now, honestly, the talk in this movie is profound. Victor provides a lot of insight into his world (as he is also the narrator of some scenes). As the audience watches, we realize the trouble he is going through and seeing his issues and ideas along with him.

The main drawback of this movie is that it is riddled with graphic sex scenes.

So, as we watched the movie in our shanty basement, my neighbors tended to look at it as a nearly-pornographic sex-drive movie… they made comments and, I presume, were disturbed by his sexual tendencies. But as for me, well, I’ve seen this movie too many times to count.

Is it creepy that I enjoy this movie so much? Don’t get me wrong, the first time I saw this movie I nearly spat out my giant cup of water at the teevee screen because of its graphic nudity… but it wasn’t unexpected. I mean, the red-band preview even showed one of the violent sex scenes, so I knew what was about to unfold.

Still, though, I see this movie not as a pornographic sex-drive film, nor do I see it as some cheap comedy. I think it contains insight and beautifully crafted character development that most movies lack these days. Honestly, it is a very interesting movie.

I wonder if I’m a creeper if I watch this movie so much though. I mean, this was the second time in a week I’ve watched the whole movie, and the third time I’ve watched the last five minutes (I won’t tell you the ending, but I will say, it is probably one of the best endings to a movie I have ever seen. Thank you for using Radiohead’s “Reckoner!”)

Whatever the case may be, Choke remains one of my favorite movies, regardless of the sex and naked bodies.

by the way, I’ve come to the realization that this song may be my favorite song ever written. Thank you Radiohead for such a masterpiece.

[Via http://margasaur.wordpress.com]

NBC's Todd: Fox News Trying To 'Undermine' MSM | NewsBusters.org

HOW INTERNET PORN IS CHANGING TEEN SEX

2010-02-11T01:47:00.000+02:00

BY ERIC SPITZNAGEL FORGET AWKWARD FUMBLINGS IN THE BACK OF THE BUS. JUNIOR’S THINKING MORE ALONG THE LINES OF REVERSE-COWGIRL ANAL

Like most guys of my generation—I’m on the downslide to 40—I have fond memories of my first experience with pornography. I was 14 years old and my best friend had just discovered his father’s secret stash. We gathered in his basement and delicately turned the pages as if they might disintegrate. I asked him if I could borrow a few mags “just for the night,” which in hindsight was a pretty bold request. I was, after all, essentially announcing my intention to masturbate. Slipping past my parents with the stack of old Hustlers stuffed inside my jacket, I somehow made it to my bedroom and, not believing my good fortune, stayed up all night relishing the spoils.

To the modern 14-year-old, the scenario would be laughably quaint: There’s no stash to be hidden these days. You can “clear history,” along with any residual shame, in one click. At each adolescent fingertip is an inexhaustable stream of high-def images and Flash video—some 400 million pornographic Web pages in all. The sheer breadth is staggering: If you watched porn 24 hours a day, for example, it would take you several years just to get caught up on the 13,588 professional titles released in the United States in 2005 alone. Plenty more is out there in bulk on the digital shelf, no credit card required: bestiality, piss-drinking, throat-fucking, bukkake gang bangs, triple anal penetrations—all exhaustively cross-referenced. Any day now, some poor kid may actually go blind masturbating.

The awkward truth, according to one study, is that 90 percent of 8-to-16-year-olds have viewed pornography online. Considering the standard climax to even the most vanilla hard-core scene today, that means there is an entire generation of young people who think sex ends with a money shot to the face. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly where the age divide falls, but it’s safe to say that the first purebred guinea pig to have grown up never knowing a world without fisting on demand is probably around 22 years old.

By the time they’re in high school, America’s porn-fed youth have already amassed an encyclopedic knowledge of smut. Seth Rogen, cowriter of Superbad—which features a now-classic scene of teenage boys graphically discussing hard-core sites—recently told me that one of his favorite pastimes is trolling porn message boards. “It’s hilarious how much these kids know,” Rogen says. “There’ll be arguments like ‘This is classified as gonzo, but I would say it’s more of a feature-BDSM. Also, they say this clip is taken from Handjobs #8, but this scene was actually first featured in Killer Grips #7.’”

Rogen might as well have been talking about brothers Travis and Cody, typical 21-year-old college students in Florida who tell me there’s one criterion at the top of their list when it comes to picking a fuck buddy. “Pubic hair is disgusting,” Travis says. “Girls should keep their vaginas porn-star trim.” Cody describes his first real-life ejaculate-to-the-face finale like this: “It was the happiest moment of my young life. There is just something about blowing a load in a chick’s face that makes you feel like a man.”

Source: http://www.details.com/sex-relationships/porn-and-perversions/200907/how-internet-porn-is-changing-teen-sex

www.mrlocario.com

[Via http://ilooksexynaked.com]

8 million register for Free Realms | News

China Matchmaking Market

2010-02-09T09:12:00.000+02:00

Amid worries over gender imbalance in the world’s most populous country, a Beijing supermarket is helping unwed Chinese to find their marriage partners.

“The love supermarket was not created to satisfy a holiday need,” Gao Shan, the market’s manager, told Reuters on Tuesday, February 9.

“It was created so that singles can have the opportunity to leave behind their single life.”

Launched in November, the “I’m Looking for You” supermarket offers young Chinese the opportunity to find their soul-mates.

Members list their basic info, such as name, age, income and occupation, along with a picture, and this profile is available for others to view.

They are also asked what they would like in a partner.

The market has attracted more than 1,000 clients and successfully matched more than 50 couples.

The move comes amid growing worries over gender imbalance in the world’s most populous country.

State media estimates that more than 24 million Chinese men of marrying age could find themselves without spouses in 2020.

A government-backed study blames the imbalance on the one-child policy, which pushes many Chinese to seek baby boys rather than girls.

China is the world’s most populous country, with 1.3 billion population.

Matchmaking

Qu Hui, a 25-year-old teacher, has signed up to the market to find her soul-mate.

“I wish I could find my better half, that is my greatest hope,” he said.

“But if that doesn’t happen, I hope I can use this place to meet more friends. After all.”

Many single Chinese complain that hectic work and school schedules in the highly competitive society leave them with little time to socialise.

“I am a teacher, so the people that I can meet and socialise with are very limited,” said Qu.

Some clients went to the marriage supermarket under family pressures.

“My ideal woman would be someone who I can get along with, who is kind-hearted, and who is responsible,” said government employee Wang Jiaohong.

“My mother says that the reason why I haven’t found her yet is because I’m too picky,” said the 35-year-old.

“But in reality, I believe it’s because I just haven’t yet found my match. There are however some outstanding women here.”

bron: www.islamonline.net [9-2-2010]

[Via http://wocview.wordpress.com]

MetsBlog.com – News: Mookie and Melvin join Mets

5 Worst Valentine's Gifts

2010-02-09T01:40:00.000+02:00

If you’re feeling sour rather than sweet about your 21010 Valentine, we’ve got suggestions for the Five Worst Valentine’s Gifts ever. These are little somethings that are guaranteed to offend. If you risk giving them, be ready to handle the fall out, or make sure the (misplaced?) object of your affections has a great sense of humor.

1) Sex for Dummies Book

2) Installing two person loo for your loved one to poo at the same time as you

3) Underwear to fit two people

4) Chocolate scale to remind her/him she’s got lots to lose

5) Remove your own dead skin and fallen hair

[Via http://midlifecrisisblog.org]

AMERICAblog News: Wall Street shifts contributions to GOP

Smoke

2010-02-07T09:55:00.000+02:00

“What do you want to do next?” he asked me.

I smiled at him and pulled down the garters of my white lace panties. “Something I haven’t done before.” I slipped the flimsy thing off my legs, threw it on the floor and spread my legs wantonly for his uninhibited view. I rubbed myself gently in front of his transfixed eyes.

“Eat me.” I purred. “Feast on this.”

“Wait…no one’s done THIS before?” he asked, confused.

“Of course not, silly. Let’s just say I was starved by my latest former. Basta. Go down on me. NOW.” I commanded, feeling the rush of pleasure from giving orders to my willing and able slave.

“Of course.” He grinned wickedly, moving to the lower edge of the bed. He pulled my slender legs towards him and positioned his face directly in front of my shaved pussy. He ran his tongue on the full length of my ccunt but stopped just as he was about to reach the clit. He lifted his head and grinned at me. I moaned in protest.

“Starved eh? So. Let’s make up for that.” He shifted his weight and started kissing the insides of my thighs. He made wet circles on the tender skin with his tongue, nipping and sucking as he made his way torturously back to my pussy again. He ran his tongue all the way up, this time reaching the clit.

“Oooh..” I moaned, moving my hips impatiently towards his teasing mouth. He gave me this huge grin and lapped at my pussy again, doing slow figure eights, licking up and down and then flicking lightly on my clit.

“Nipples and clit. You’re making this easy on me, you know.” He rubbed my already swollen clit with his thumb with increased pressure, which made me gasp out loud and my body shudder involuntarily. He rubbed and rubbed until my moans became audible enough to be heard in the next room.

“Oh shit! Shit! Ang sarap!” I whispered as I tried to hold back my orgasm. No, I thought. Not yet. I lifted my body and moved towards the headboard.

“Anything wrong?” he asked.

“Nope, nothing’s wrong. Go on, kainin mo pa ko. And don’t stop until I tell you to stop.” I spread my legs wider and pushed his head towards my cunt. I let him lick me up and down for a couple of minutes, then I reached out towards the bedside table on my right. After knocking down the remote controls to the floor, I managed to get hold of my cigarette pack. Making sure that he didn’t stop what he was doing, I took out a stick and lit one quickly. I took a deep drag and exhaled slowly. He looked up.

“May I?” I drawled as I took another drag of my cigarette.

“Haha. So that’s it. Smoking while having your pussy eaten. Sure. Tangina, ang sarap mong kuhanan ng picture.”

“Haha. Can’t do that right now. Continue what you’re doing. Don’t stop.”

He chuckled and went right back to business. He continued licking up and down nonstop and circling my clit with his hard tongue. I closed my eyes and took another puff, letting the waves of pleasure take over my sprawled body. He didn’t let up until I finished my cigarette. Then, after I stubbed it off in the ashtray, he grabbed my hips and used his arms to hold down my legs. He started eating my cunt again, more voraciously, now focusing more on my clit. He ran his tongue slowly all the way up to the base of my clit, then stopped for a couple of agonizing seconds before flicking it entirely with all the force that his tongue can muster.

“Oooh SHIT!” I gasped as I felt the powerful force of his tongue sweep across the tender flesh.

“So this is what you miss, huh?” he whispered, then proceeded to flick on my clit with his tongue relentlessly, until I was almost crying with helpless pleasure. His stopping for a few moments before licking the entirety of my clit totally killed me. “You bastard…” I whispered to him as he continued torturing me with his tongue. The sheets were soaking wet with my juices, which flowed continuosly from my swollen cunt. Just as I was about to think he was finally winding down, his hands reached out towards my breasts. His fingers started playing with my nipples while he continued eating my pussy.

“Tanginaaaaa!” I screamed. My shaking hands grabbed at the bedpost and my legs wrapped more tightly around his head. After a few minutes, he lifted himself off my hips and sat in front of my wide open legs.

“Kaya pa?” he chuckled. I can now see his straining erection trapped inside his black briefs. He took it out and started to stroke himself. “You want it now?”

“Please.” I pleaded.

“Hm. Wag muna. May kulang pa eh.” He pulled my legs towards him again and slowly inserted his middle finger inside me. He pushed in and out, slowly at first, then with rapid thrusts as my cries filled up the room instantly. Then he inserted another finger inside me, slowly opening up the tight walls of my cunt.

“Tangina, ang sikip mo. Grabe.” He started fingerfucking me, his fingers going faster and faster. I was already out of my sanity at that moment. I can feel the walls of my pussy tightening around his fingers, which made him increase his speed more. Then, without stopping the movement of his fingers, he bent down and started licking on my clit again, hard and mercilessly. I couldn’t take it anymore. I cried out and came hard on his fingers. My body was wracked with mindless shudders that wouldn’t stop. My pussy gripped his fingers so tightly, soaking them with so much pussy juice.

He couldn’t contain himself anymore. He got on top of me and rammed at my soaking wet cunt while I was still shuddering with the most powerful orgasm I had in weeks. “Grabe, ang sarap sarap mo talaga!” he moaned. He pounded on me mercilessly, using sharp, rapid thrusts that drove me to the brink of further madness until at last, he let out an inhuman groan and came hard inside me, his heart pounding wildly, his hands clutching my small waist. He lay still on top of me, catching his breath. After a couple of minutes, he whispered, “Are you sure your bed at home can take all these?”

I laughed. “We’ll just have to find out.”

[Via http://pussywagon.wordpress.com]

Vanguard News Online

Meet The Feebles (1989, Peter Jackson)

2010-02-07T01:55:00.000+02:00

AKA: Frogs of War – Laufzeit: 94 Minuten – Land: Neuseeland

Die “Feebles” sind schon ein merkwürdiger Haufen. Ob drolliges Nilpferd, fremdgehendes Walross, krankes Karnickel, sensationsgeile Fliege oder schüchterner Igel – hier kommen einige Charaktere zusammen. Was gut ist, schließlich wirken alle an der großen Feebles-Variety Show mit, die schon bald live im Fernsehen übertragen werden soll. Es wird gesungen, getanzt und improvisiert… aber hinter der Bühne geht erst so richtig die Post ab. Hier ist nichts mit Kuscheltheater – es werden Intrigen gesponnen, es wird fremdgegangen, es werden Drogen konsumiert; und Geld wird nebenbei noch auf etwas “andere” Art und Weise herbeigeschafft… Eines Tages muss Heidi, der heimliche Star der Show, mit Entsetzen feststellen dass ihr Gönner und Lover Bletch fremdgeht – woraufhin sie die Show etwas anders inszeniert als geplant. Es wird schmutzig, pervers, und brutal…

Dieser Film ist wohl – ohne Frage – als Klassiker zu bezeichnen. Und zwar in mindestens doppelter Hinsicht: zum einen war dies nach “Bad Taste” das zweite Werk von Regisseur Peter Jackson. Und zum anderen war dieser Film durchaus etwas besonderes: als Persiflage auf die Muppet-Show wird hier Anarchismus im Puppentheater zelebriert. Dieser Film dürfte Grundstein für viele neuere Produktionen oder gar Musikbands (vergleiche “Puppetmastaz“) gewesen sein. Doch was taugt der Film – aus heutiger Sicht – wirklich noch, neben der Rolle als “Grundstein” in der Karriere Peter Jackson’s ? Nun, und an dieser Stelle mögen mich Fans des Streifens schelten – vielleicht habe ich es verdient. Doch was ist denn nun mit dem Text des Backcovers, der ein extrem anarchischen, zügellosen und “versauten” Film versprach ? Ich habe mich jedenfalls etwas gewundert, dass im Film nur relativ wenig davon zu sehen (und zu hören) war. Auf mich und aus heutiger Sicht wirkt er eher brav (naja) – aber auch damals kann er nicht wirklich geschockt haben. Die Brutalität, die in “Bad Taste” noch ganz andere Ausmaße annimmt, ist hier vergleichsweise auf ein Minimum reduziert. Bis auf die Endszene gibt es eigentlich kaum Splatter-Szenen (nicht, dass ich zwingend darauf abfahre), und auch die Dialoge sind größtenteils noch im Rahmen. Nun gut, etwas expliziter als bei den Original “Muppets“, gewiss… aber irgendwie noch nicht genug.

Aber nicht nur das – sie sind auch noch stinklangweilig. So empfand zumindest ich – und ein weiterer Mitseher an diesem DVD-Abend. Wir stellten uns die Frage, ob es vor 20 Jahren anders gewesen war – heute kann dergleichen aber nicht mehr als “extravagant” oder besonders anzüglich gelten. Ein bisschen Fremdgehen hier, ein wenig Drogen dort, und antürlich die nötige Prise an Liebes- und Sexszenen. Gähn. Mein Ansatz: wenn man schon einen Film macht, der ausschließlich in der “Puppenkiste” entsteht, hat man doch eigentlich alle nur erdenklichen Freiheiten. Warum aber werden diese in diesem Fall nicht wirklich ausgenutzt ? Als überaus nervig empfand ich auch die ständigen Singszenen (die auf der deutschen DVD übrigens nicht untertitelt werden), die weder durch musikalische Finesse (das wäre ja auch was) noch durch guten Wortwitz glänzen. Nein, sie unterbrechen lediglich den ohnehin schon sehr dünnen Handlungsbogen, und die sehr vereinzelten Lacher. Immerhin, es gab einige Szenen die durchaus Potential haben. Der auffälligste Charakter war meiner Meinung nach Trevor (die Ratte), der quasi der “böseste Bube” der “Feebles” ist. Er dealt mit Drogen, betreibt ein kleines Pornofilm-Business; und macht Sebastian (dem Igel) die angehimmelte Herzdame streitig. Andere Charaktere, wie der “Regisseur” der Show (mir entfiel gerade das passende Tierpendant) nerven einfach nur, und sind kaum interessant, provozierend oder witzig.

Zu den positiven Aspekten des Films zähle ich die allgemeine, sehr bunt-trashige Aufmachung und die Bewegungen der Puppen, sowie die Sprecher (sowohl im Originalton als auch in der guten deutschen Synchro). Auch der Sound sowie die “Effekte” (nun ja) sind entsprechend dem niedrigen Budget gut umgesetzt und tragen zur merkwürdigen Gesamtwirkung bei. Wobei, wenn wir schonmal dabei sind – was genau Sinn und Zweck dieses Films ist, vermag ich nicht zu sagen. Mich vermochte er weder zu unterhalten, noch nahm ich ihn explizit als “Meilenstein” für irgendein Filmgenre wahr. Dafür fehlt ihm einfach der gewisse Witz, vielleicht auch der elegante, zwischen-den-Zeilen versteckte. Alles ist eher simpel gehalten, für Lacher sollen allein die schrägen Tierdesigns und das Interagieren derselbigen sorgen. Nun, bei mir hat das augenscheinlich nicht so gut geklappt. Wenn ein Puppennilpferd durch die Gänge watschelt, dabei über einen hässlichen Wurm stoplert; oder aber eine überdimensionale Fliege ihre Fotos im Spülkasten entwickelt – dann sieht das zwar absurd aus, bringt mich aber eher zum staunen als zum lachen. Ich staune schlicht, warum dieser Film überall in so hohen Tönen gelobt wird. Einfach nur, weil es ein “Klassiker” ist… ?

Gegen Ende hin war ich jedenfalls froh, dass das Ganze überstanden war. Vorher gab es noch einen recht heftigen Amoklauf zu sehen,der für mich weniger mit versteckter Kritik als mit Geschmacklosigkeit zu tun hat. Klar, die arme Heidi hat es nicht leicht. Warum sie dann aber alles und jeden Niedermacht, erklärt sich mir nicht wirklich. Es musste wohl einfach sein, damit der Film einen entsprechenden Abschluss hat (“der Wahnsinn wird mit Wahnsinn dem Erdboden gleichgemacht”). Wie dem auch sei, ich bin etwas verwundert. Schauspielerische Leistungen in dem Sinne gibt es auch nicht zu beurteilen, weshalb ich es wohl ausnahmsweise mal kurz mache.

Also endlich und schlussendlich: “Meet The Feebles” mag ein Klassiker sein, für mich ist es jedoch einfach nur einer der schlechtesten Filme die ich je gesehen habe. Auch mich interessiert, warum ich so empfinde – ich bin gerne bereit, mich bei Kaffee und Kuchen an einem Diskussionspodium zu treffen. Ich vergebe ganze 20 Prozentpunkte für diese filmische Grotte, huldige aber trotzdem Peter Jackson für viele seiner anderen Werke.

[Via http://ikarusvpn.wordpress.com]

Stocks in the News: Aetna, Beazer Homes, Tyson Foods - DailyFinance

To trim or not to trim, now that is the question.

2010-02-06T17:55:00.000+02:00

Last night, struggling to sleep at quarter to three in the morning, I got a phonecall from my guy friend D. We talked about his relationships with girls, my relationships with guys, the works. And then, I asked him a funny question. To trim or not to trim? How much is too much? Down there, should it be all hair, no hair, or somehair in between? (I couldn’t resist, I sincerely apologise)

Is it about personal preference, personal hygiene, self-respect, or simply just being able to locate the other person’s genitalia when it comes to sex?

[Via http://loveandcoco.wordpress.com]

AMERICAblog News: Unemployment drops to 9.7% but 'economists ...

Secret Sex?

2010-02-06T01:43:00.000+02:00

Whenever a relationship is new or even if I just like somebody, I’m a little reluctant to tell my friends. I know, I know, they’re my friends, and it’s not that I don’t trust them, it’s that I don’t trust it. I worry about it going wrong, or me being hurt, and having an audience when it all goes balls up. Fear is not a good motivation for anything, I know, but I never seem to be able to help myself.

In my first few weeks at university, my girlfriend Charles was seeing one of our good friends. We all knew she was sleeping with him, but for some reason the two of them felt it was better to keep it a secret. He would come round for a while, we’d all talk in the kitchen, then he’d go home. A couple of minutes later, she’d go out ‘for a walk’. No-one asked any questions, but we all knew what was going on. The two of them stopped seeing each other sometime before Christmas because as it turned out, she had feelings for him, whereas he just saw her as a quick lay.

Fast forward a couple of months and one of my other girlfriends is trying to break up with her boyfriend of two years. They go to the same university. He’s not back from Christmas break yet, and she seems to have been spending a lot of time with that guy Charles was previously seeing. We all went out Friday, and they spent a really really long time hugging. Then she keeps going out, to ‘a friends’ supposedly, and tonight when he came over and we chatted for a while, he went to her room and I don’t think he left. What it is about keeping stuff like this a secret? Does it make it even more of a big deal if no-one knows about it?

[Via http://loveandcoco.wordpress.com]

CBS, News Corp. Grab For Station Retransmission Dollars Could Get ...

Jill Scott

2010-02-04T09:48:00.000+02:00

I would love you to listen to this performance by the amazing Jill Scott, as it pretty much describes everything and anything I left out in my previous post, Grace, and she sings the story with such passion. ‘Whatever‘ pretty much explains it all without having to become too graphic a lyric. A lengthy performance, but a great showcase of a blessed singer, poet and above all, a wonderful woman.

You can tell the way she has sex by the way she sings, and by the way this song is performed. The way this song is built up, starting slow and romantic, cooling down a little and finishing off with a blasting finale, the arrangements, the heat radiating from this performance, the use of her voice, even the handjob she’s giving to the microphone stand, ‘loving me the way you do’ was never this sweaty, honest and poetic.

Jill Scott’s talent has so far been exposed on her albums “Words & Sounds” volume 1, 2 and 3, respectively called ‘Who is Jill Scott?‘, ‘Beautifully Human‘ and ‘The Real Thing‘. I strongly suggest you check out those Grammy-worthy recordings.

[Via http://lichtzeich.wordpress.com]

Olympus unveils the affordable Pen: Digital Photography Review

Filming Her Sex

2010-02-04T01:42:00.000+02:00

23.68MB 8Min

Download

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Olympus unveils the affordable Pen: Digital Photography Review

If A Man Wants You

2010-02-02T17:54:00.000+02:00

If a man wants you, nothing can keep him away.

If he doesn’t want you, nothing can make him stay.

Stop making excuses for a man and his behavior.

Allow your intuition (or spirit) to save you from heartache.

Stop trying to change yourselves for a relationship that’s not meant to be.

Slower is better.

Never live your life for a man before you find what makes you truly happy.

If a relationship ends because the man was not treating you as you deserve

then heck no, you can’t “be friends.” A friend wouldn’t mistreat a friend.

Don’t settle. If you feel like he is stringing you along, then he probably is.

Don’t stay because you think “it will get better.” You’ll be mad at yourself

a year later for staying when things are not better.

The only person you can control in a relationship is you.

Avoid men who’ve got a bunch of children by a bunch of different women. He didn’t marry them when he got them pregnant, Why would he treat you any differently?

Always have your own set of friends separate from his.

Maintain boundaries in how a guy treats you. If something bothers you, speak up.

Never let a man know everything. He will use it against you later.

You cannot change a man’s behavior. Change comes from within.

Don’t EVER make him feel he is more important than you are…even if he has

more education or in a better job. Do not make him into a quasi-god. He is a man, nothing more nothing less.

Never let a man define who you are.

Never borrow someone else’s man.

Oh Lord!? If he cheated with you, he’ll cheat on you.

A man will only treat you the way you ALLOW him to treat you.

All men are NOT dogs.

You should not be the one doing all the bending…compromise is a two-way street.

You need time to heal between relationships……there is nothing cute about baggage… deal with your issues before pursuing a new relationship

You should never look for someone to COMPLETE you…a relationship consists of two WHOLE individuals…look for someone complimentary…not supplementary.

Dating is fun…even if he doesn’t turn out to be Mr.. Right.

Make him miss you sometimes…when a man always knows where you are, and you’re

always readily available to him- he takes it for granted.

Don’t fully commit to a man who doesn’t give you everything that you need.

Keep him in your radar but get to know others.

They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate

them, a day to love them and an entire lifetime to forget them.

[Via http://joelsantos.wordpress.com]

skippy the bush kangaroo: environmental news stories sunday

I Need Yo Love

2010-02-02T01:32:00.000+02:00

This week’s Dustinland is based off some observations I’ve made recently. I touched on the subject of desperation back in 2004, but now I have a few new ideas on the subject. Must be that wisdom that comes with age. Yup, I sure am wise. But yeah, desperation is a killer. You can sense it instantly, like dogs and fear. The key is really to just be happy with yourself, just enjoying riding solo and being single, while simultaneously being able to playfully flirt. That’s easier said than done though, especially during a prolonged dry streak.

[Via http://dustinland.wordpress.com]

Global Voices Online » Haiti: News from Jacmel

Having Sex With a Vampire

2010-01-31T09:35:00.000+02:00

How come no one ever discusses how impossible having sex with a vampire would actually be?

Forget the biting (a nice guy like Edward Cullen would surely do his best to resist) but his body temperature, or lack of one: does no one ever consider what that would feel like during intercourse?

“Rock hard and icy cold.” These are undeniable features Stephanie Meyer’s has emphasized about her vampires all through-out the Twilight saga. Yes, Edward is a physical masterpiece, a 20 on a scale of ten in the looks department: his demeanor, smile, class and obvious tenderness are enough to make a girl heat up in his presence: unless she gets too close. THAT close.

That stone like chest might be tolerable to cuddle up against on a hot summer day (especially if clothed in a soft shirt or sweater) but – intimacy with the guy? Only a really naive virgin could have such a fantasy without wincing at the thought.

In New Moon, Bella jumps into the water and almost drowns. After being rescued, she is huddled in the front seat of her truck, across from Jacob, shivering painfully from the cold. Despite being as taken with Edward’s charm as Bella is, I will admit that Jacob’s offer to Bella of, “It’s a 108 degrees over here,” did bring up a tempting reality: getting close to HIM is is not only within the realm of possibility for her, but if she ever did get REALLY close, she wouldn’t end up with the most embarrassing case of frostbite any young girl could ever imagine.

[Via http://music2yourears.wordpress.com]

Fox News cuts in on Obama's dialogue with Republicans to accuse ...

This Only Happens To Black People In Natural Disasters!!!...U.S. Stops Medical Flights From Haiti Due To A 'Cost Dispute'....

2010-01-31T01:53:00.000+02:00

Are you kidding me!!!...This story took my breath away as I thought that I could not be surprised by any level of hypocrisy and hatred that could be piled upon our people, but this indignity has even surpassed my low expectations that I have become accustomed to, as it has to do with the treatment of my black people in these natural disasters.

First, the bumbling of Katrina, …and now Haiti.

How dare you turn any one of them away for any reason of payment.We are a nation of many that can and will cover whatever expense,but the priority is to save the lives of our people immediately.

If we can not pay, do you expect us to die?…We could aid Haiti in ways that they are incapable of,… but playing and bargaining with life, is not the business we should ever be in….

If we have the ability to save the Haitian patients, then we need to do it immediately, without any form of hesitation!!!!

Let’s do everything possible short of federalizing Haiti ,http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Federalism,to save and rescue all the people, put a temporary UN /USA military base there, and save the country immediately.

Back up the Red Cross and the U N run effort to restore peace to Haiti, and distribute the aide to the people.

It is directly in the Western Hemisphere,maybe we could all mutually benefit from a rebuilt and strong Haitit.It seems to me that they need a stronger infrastructure as do many countries, and may be so under the gun with national debt, that possibly a different model could be visible for Haiti, but these things should be discussed AFTER the people are rescued, and provided for, and our nation along with the UN should lead that effort.

…but our main priority now is to rescue, and save the people of Haiti, without hesitation!!!!

…Or we will vote you out of office… whoever is responsible for this indignity!!!!!

Let’s put aside our hatred of black folks and help these people….of course they don’t have health care!!!!…

..they live in Haiti!!!

This is a disgrace!!!!

MY GOD!!!!…Halting Medical Evacuations????….Mr President…VICE PRESIDENT,…HILLARY, NEOCONS …SOMEBODY????!!!!…CHANGE THIS IMMEDIATELY….

…you all have the power to make this happen, and to save lives!

I know you see these same photos that I see everyday…truly horrific!!!!We must rescue whoever we can at any cost!!!!!

We can Save these baby survivors!!!!….

…YES WE CAN!!!!!

Sources-

http://www.cnn.com/2010/WORLD/americas/01/30/haiti.us.airlifts/

http://www.miamiherald.com/news/breaking-news/story/1454684.html

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EySkdK2eH84

[Via http://jerrybrice.wordpress.com]

Do you hate Apple news? -- Engadget

Younger Years Part II

2010-01-30T09:18:00.000+02:00

Ok, well another story during my younger years was when I was in high school. I was very naughty, too grown up for my age and snuck out of the house at night. I went to a bar downtown because they allowed underage people in there.

This was a gay bar, I was not gay, I was 15/16 years old. I just wanted to have fun. Party and dance dance dance. I loved dancing. Every weekend and even some days during the week I would sneak out and go to this bar. Of course it had a lighted floor, everything just like the seventies, it was great and the music was even better; Gloria Gaynor, Blondie, Donna Summer, the list could go on forever, sigh.

The queer guys and the drag queens were so much fun. They just knew how to have fun and I didn’t feel threatened by them, because they had no interest in me and I didn’t feel like the lesbians there cared about me either, good grief I was 15 and 16 years old. I looked good but I’m sure I looked really young too.

Well, it was halloween and everyone wore a costume, well I dressed up like a play boy bunny in chocolate brown bunny type outfit, fishnet stockings, high heels. (I once had some red ones that even at the young age my mom and I had a joke and we called them, “Joan Crawford come fuck me pumps!”) with a little brown velvet blazer a choker, bunny ears and a bunny tail. I had so much fun dancing that night.

Later on I was standing in line for the bathroom and there was this girl. I had seen her before, she was very pretty with just enough make up and lipstick, cute hair cut and was very muscular. Like I said, we were standing in line and she forcefully grabbed me and kissed my deep and long our tongues locked. Oh my gosh, I was so shocked and so turned on. I thought for sure I would be turned off by another girl, but she threw me for a loop and I loved it. For the next several years I had girls my life. I hadn’t even graduated high school and my life had taken such a turn.

Somehow a real dyke butch girl (we will call her Deb) came after me and we were a thing for nearly a year. We hung out at a local country bar (dive) Dave and Ann’s was the name. Along the way another girl was vying for my attention and she was really cute, very domineering she wanted what she wanted and wouldn’t stop until she got it. So, she got me, Ricky.

Ok back to the first lesbian relationship, Deb as I said was a real dyke type girl. I mean she was very nice and cute just very masculine. I can’t remember ever really having an orgasm with her. What we did felt good, but I don’t remember having what I have now, a trembling, mind stopping orgasm. What she taught me to do and what she like was to fuck me until I squirted. Squirting had a different effect and I did it mostly because that is what she wanted. Now, the lesbian fucking we did was her putting her thumb in front of her like she had a dick and and fucking me until I squirted. Nevertheless, I left her for the cute brunette (Ricky) with brown eyes that followed me everywhere. I never had an orgasm with her either, so needless to say I was very frustrated all the time. I didn’t realize it then, but when I look back that was exactly what I was experiencing, frustration. She had plenty of orgasms with me doing what she wanted me to do and I did it. However, I was so in love with her, I loved kissing her and she had the most beautiful breast I have ever seen to this day.

Along the way I met a guy in this same community, he had a little spot of land he lived and worked on. He was a great guy, older. and he was so in love with me, my mom always thanked him for bringing me back home. I had left home at age 16 (for the girl) and barely graduated high school. Anyway, this guy brought me back and got me integrated back into my family. It was a bit sad at times when my two little brothers had friends over and I remembering them saying to my little brother, “I didn’t know you had a sister”. POW! That hurt, but it was my own fault…trying to grow up too fast.

Now, another time can’t remember exactly where it fits into the above stories (1-2 years after the above stories), but there was a guy (Brock) I knew, younger than me but so hot, cute, sexy young man. His father and my father worked together and we would see each other from time to time during the holidays, for instance we would go dancing on Christmas night. I always thought about sex with him but never thought he would even consider me. But oh one night we got together and it was so good, we were walking around the college campus bar hopping, a huge popular univeristy. I had actually moved to another state but was home visiting during the holidays.

After our bar hopping he suggested we drop by his apartment as it was on campus. I am a skirt girl, I love skirts, the shorter the better in my younger days. (I still wear them now (more age appropriate tho) because I love to stick my husbands hand up my skirt, or have him just pump his dick in me a few times as we are going about the house doing our thing on any given night or weekend.) Brock and I stopped by his apartment for a minute and he literally threw me on his bed, shove my skirt up, pulled my panties down and started eating my pussy, it was so so good. It was the best pussy eating I had ever had. For some reason the gilt was killing me and I made him stop eating my pussy and of course would not let him fuck me either. Don’t ask me why I didn’t let/want him to fuck me because it was so good. Anyway, he drove me to my parents and that may have been one of the last times I saw him.

Ok, now I’m back in the town my mother shipped me off to because I was not flourishing where I met all the girls, plus the girls were after me sort of. Wanting me back as their toy…sex slave toy I guess. So, I ran several hundred miles south.

Now, in the town I’m living I met a girl (Ryne) that dated a family member of mine, a guy. She was great and I really cared for her. Looking back I think she wanted to have sex with me but we never did, she was pretty but she wasn’t my type eventhough I cared for her, I just couldn’t initiate the sex. During this time (21 yrs old) she invited a friend of hers over, Jenny. Jenny came after me and I liked it. The first night I met her we were at Rynes house downstairs in the den floor and she insited on eating my pussy. Oh my gosh, she ate my pussy so good, she sucked my clit and gently with a flat tongue slowly moving across my clit and all around, she stayed after it until I had the first orgasm I had ever had with another human being. The only true ones were the ones I had masturbating, never with a person. I had done the squirting but that was never really satisfying. Now, Jenny was older than me and after that we saw each other occasionaly but we never had sex again.

Now, on to the guy. There was a guy in this town that was a friend of my brother and he (Pat) and I had occasionally been attracted to each other but had never gotten together, believe it or not we started dating it was so fun. I think he was a guy I had so much fun with rather we had so much fun together doing really odd things. Not always sexual either, just fun knocking around together and seeing stuff. Ok, to the sex part he and I were hanging out drinking with another couple, it was during Tracy Chapman’s hey day and I got so drunk I even ate some Étouffée. We left the restaurant, went to couples house and rocked to Tracy Chapmans Fast Car and another song I can’t recall, Pat and I dirty danced for an hour, we went to his house, passionately kissing, sucking each others neck, face, ears, fingers and undressing as we went. Pat layed back on the bed and I jumped on his dick, sitting squarly on it as far as it would go. Pat actually had a small penis, I didn’t realize it then because I’d never had intercouse so far (don’t hold me to that, I’m still thinking). The size really didn’t matter it felt great, I rode his dick for all it was worth. Of course I was uninhibited due to my drunken state. Suddenly I started feeling a feeling I had never felt before and realized I was about to have my first orgasm with a man during intercourse when he started moaning and came.

Needless to say I was left feeling unfulfilled, but it was ok. I was happy about the realization that I could actually have an orgasm with a man during intercourse. The story of Pat and I had actually started before this and continued after this (*I might add that in later). The last time I saw him (2 years ago), it was late and I had to go to bed, times have changed I was working, etc. Nevertheless, I said I’ve got to go to bed before I turn into a pumpkin. Briefly I saw him again the next day and he told me that when I made the comment about going to bed, he wanted to say, “Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater”. He still turns me on,probably always will, but I’m married now.

*Ok, had to add this it’s one part of the two parts I was going to add later. We used to go to the beach together and boy did we have fun, he loved for me to lay on my stomach on the beach while he rubbed tanning lotion into my legs, he would put so much oil on my thighs it was rediculous, he would put it on and just rub my thighs over and over, it made me so hot, my pussy would just be throbbing by the time we left the beach and got back to his place. He threw me on the bed and ate my pussy, I still had my panties on and he had just shoved them aside and was licking and sucking me, one time he had an orgasm when he was eating me. Then we would fuck fuck fuck, it was so fun. Like I said, I haven’t seen him in two years, wonder when the next time will be.

[Via http://xmemore.wordpress.com]

Today In Apple iPad News - Techland - TIME.com

G-spots and Orgasms

2010-01-30T00:58:00.000+02:00

The 80beats blog at Discover blogs is reporting on a French/British argument over the female G-spot. Personally, I’d assume that the French, who are supposed to be the world’s best lovers are right. (Have I mentioned that I’m half French? My Mom was born in Paris.)

The Brits did a study of 902 twin pairs – some of which were monozygotic (identical) twins, and some of which were dizygotic (fraternal) twins. Twin studies are important in research, because it is one way to have a genetically-informed sample without having to do actual analysis of the DNA. Identical twins share 100% of their DNA, and fraternal twins share 50% of their DNA, and therefore the genetic relatedness between fraternal twins is the same as between regular siblings.

The Brits say:

If the G-spot did exist, then genetically identical twins would have been expected to both report having one. However, no such pattern emerged [The Telegraph]. As a result of the study, coauthor Tim Spector said, the study “shows fairly conclusively that the idea of a G-spot is subjective.”

The French argument:

The angry French gynecologists said they’d found the real problem with their British counterparts: that they’re British. The King’s College study, they said, had fallen victim to an Anglo-Saxon tendency to reduce the mysteries of sexuality to absolutes. This attempt to set clear parameters on something variable and ambiguous, they said, was characteristic of British scientific attitudes to sex [The Guardian].

Gynecologist Odile Buisson went even further in blaming national sex attitudes for supposedly leading the British researchers astray: “I don’t want to stigmatise at all but I think the Protestant, liberal, Anglo-Saxon character means you are very pragmatic. There has to be a cause for everything, a gene for everything,” she said, adding: “I think it’s totalitarian” [The Guardian]. She also told The Telegraph that the G-spot is real for upwards of 60 percent of women, and that saying anything else is “medical machismo.”

As it happens, I believe the French are right on this one, at least in principle if not in the rationale. But I went to find the original paper. Because I don’t automatically trust The Telegraph, or The Guardian (or really, any popular press, when it comes to sensational headlines). And my institution doesn’t have access (THAT, however, is a rant for a different time). The lab at King’s College seems to have it on their website, but the file was corrupt. Luckily, I am crafty and managed to get myself a copy of the PDF anyway.

Sci takes this paper down quite beautifully, but I have a few more bones to pick with it.

But let me re-iterate the problems that Sci brought up:

1. The average age of the women questioned was 55 years. Given that women are supposedly at their sexual peak around age 30, and given that the average age for menopause in the Western world is 51, this seems like pretty poor sampling.

2. Bisexual and homosexual women were excluded from the study, because “of the common use of digital stimulation” in such populations. I’m sorry, but since when did the existence of the G-spot vary according to the manner in which you try to find it? And since when do heterosexual women only use penises for stimulation?

3. Bad definition of the g-spot. They asked women “Do you believe you have a so-called G-spot, a small area the size of a 20p coin on the front wall of your vagina, that is sensitive to deep pressure?” Are all women anatomists now as well? Would you ask people “Do you believe you have a so-called hippocampus, a small area of cortex located deep within the temporal lobe, roughly occurring in the shape of a seahorse?” Whether or not they believe it, they certainly have one.

Figure 1: Hippocampus. Look at it upside down and you’ll see the seahorse shape.

Also, terribly pointed language. “so-called”?! And what about “believe”? Perhaps, if the study had been titled “Genetic and Environmental Influences on the Belief of the Existence of G-Spots in Women: A Twin Study.”

Also, how many women have systematically explored the entire front wall of the vagina searching for the location and relative size of a location that could bring them to orgasm, and then also varied the pressure with which they stimulated it? That is the study that needs to be done.

Okay, here is my beef:

They assumed that the twins – whether or not they were identical or fraternal – had 100% shared environments. How many 55 year old women do you know that have 100% shared environments? How about 100% shared sexual partners? Or sexual preferences? Or masturbation styles? or, or or? This is, like, Intro Psych stuff, friends. Until we know more about the genetic and anatomic basis of orgasm, I don’t think the conclusions of this paper can be made. They say: “we postulate that the reason for the lack of genetic variation—in contrast to other anatomical and physiological traits studied—is that there is no physiological or physical basis for the G-spot.”

My prediction is that once we know more about what causes female orgasm, we’ll be a closer to having some answers about the G-spot. I think there’s a gene-environment interaction occurring.

Figure 2: Gene-environment interaction.

Image from Pinel, J.P.J. (2009). Biopsychology: Seventh Edition.

The gene in question involves serotonin (a neurotransmitter) regulation in the brain. The probability of a major depression episode changes depending both on your genotype (the combination of short and long versions of the gene), and the number of stressors in the environment (along the x-axis). With few environmental stressors, there is no difference in the probability of depression for the different groups. Only with more life stressors is there significant variation in depression, with the short/short group being more vulnerable, and the long/long group being more protected. One can imagine two identical twins, genetically identical (let’s say, sharing the S/S version of the gene). One has only a few life stressors and one has many life stressors, and therefore they have different depression-related experiences.

So too with the female orgasm and g-spot, I think. We just need to figure out which genes and which environmental variables are important.

Reference:

Burri, A., Cherkas, L., & Spector, T. (2010). Genetic and Environmental Influences on self-reported G-Spots in Women: A Twin Study Journal of Sexual Medicine DOI: 10.1111/j.1743-6109.2009.01671.x

[Via http://thoughtfulanimal.wordpress.com]

Perez Hilton: HUGE GaGa News!!!!

Mantan Raja Bokep Tobat Jadi Pedagang Sayur!!

2010-01-28T09:35:00.000+02:00

Spoiler for ni dia orangnya gan: Spoiler for : Spoiler for : Spoiler for : Quote: KOMPAS.com – Ganahari Takahasi sebenarnya telah menghasilkan jutaan yen sebagai kepala perusahaan video porno Soft on Demand. Namun tahun 2006 dia memutuskan untuk meninggalkan bisnis mesum itu dan mendirikan Kunitachi Farm dengan modal 1 miliar yen. Menurut Takahashi, lompatan dari pornografi ke pertanian ini tidak sesembrono yang disangka orang.

Dikatakannya, saat memasuki industri video untuk orang dewasa, pihak yang paling diperlukan, yaitu yang membuat produk itu, malah tidak mendapat penghasilan. “Distributorlah yang meraup semua keuntungan. Jadi saya membuat industri dimana para produsennya dihargai dengan selayaknya. Ketika saya berpikiran untuk hidup sebagai petani, saya sadar bahwa di bidang ini pun, kegiatan produksinya tidak dihargai selayaknya. Jadi saya berpikir untuk menerapkan cara sukses saya di bidang industri untuk orang dewasa itu kepada bidang pertanian,” papar Takahasi.

Maka lahirlah ide Takahashi untuk mengadakan reformasi pertanian.

Dari pertanian langsung ke mulut konsumen

Kunitachi Farm kini bekerja sama dengan 200 petani di daerah sebagai sumber sayuran untuk semua produk di semua outletnya. Semua pertanian itu harus memenuhi standar minimum yakni menghindari pemakaian herbisida, dan terlebih lagi menyesuaikan diri dengan visi Takahashi, yaitu petani muda yang gaul.

Hasil panen disalurkan ke Nouka no Daidokoro (Dapur Peternakan), yaitu restoran yang dibuka Takahashi pada awal 2007 di daerah Kunitachi, di sisi barat Tokyo. Sementara untuk produk-produk yang sudah diolah, seperti adonan miso dan selai, dikirim ke pertokoan-pertokoan terpilih.

Restoran Nouka no Daidorkoro kini telah memiliki dua cabang di perkotaan Tokyo, yaitu di Ebisu dan Shinjuku. Keduanya terkenal selalu dipenuhi pelanggan wanita pada waktu makan siang. Selain menyediakan paket-paket makanan dengan harga terjangkau, juga ada salad bar dengan berbagai sayuran ditata di atas es, dan juga berbagai jus yang juga dibuat sendiri oleh restoran itu.

Dengan dekor tembok putih dan pilar-pilar kayu, restoran ini mengingatkan orang pada rumah pertanian tradisional, dan interiornya juga dipenuhi poster-poster para petani yang produknya disajikan di sana.

Citra-citra ini membantu para pelanggan menyadari hubungan makanan di piring mereka pada orang-orang yang berjasa menyediakannya. “Saya meminjam tenaga petani-petani yang mengagumkan ini untuk mereformasi seluruh industri pertanian,” kata Takahashi.

Lakukan, Lihat, Rencanakan

Kunitachi Farm merupakan usaha yang modern, yang juga merangkul jajaran selebriti terkini. Nouka no Daidokoro ini seperti versi Planet Hollywood-nya toko sayur. Dan dengan bersamaan, situs Kunitachi Farm juga memelihara beberapa blog yang mengukuhkan citra eksklusifitas pada para bintang petani ini.

Media massa terdepan juga telah meliput cerita ini, sehingga muncul di sampul berbagai majalah, mulai dari majalah yang sarat-kultur sampai ke yang pakar-tren, dan belum lagi semua acara TV yang tak terhitung lagi banyaknya. Kunitachi Farm bukan saja mengangkat pertanian ke media massa tapi juga membuatnya jadi trendi.

Pendekatan Takahashi untuk Kunitachi Farm memang mengalami juga proses coba-coba alias trial and error, atau disebut Takahashi sebagai pendekatan “Lakukan, Lihat, Rencanakan”.

Dalam tiga setengah tahun terakhir ia telah melakukan sejumlah proyek selain Nouka no Daidokoro. Pada bulan Februari 2008, ia membeli pertanian telantar di dekat daerah Chiba.

Lalu ada pula “Kunitachi Farm Girls’ Farm” di pedesaan Yamagata, yang dimulai tahun lalu dengan tujuan menjalankan pertanian dari sudut pandang wanita. Tim kaum hawa di pertanian itu tengah berusaha menghasilkan produk yang menurut mereka bisa menarik perhatian para konsumen wanita, seperti tomat-mini.

Walau penjualannya cukup baik, namun Takahashi telah menghabiskan 90 persen dari modal awalnya. “Aku akan memakai sisa 100 juta yen supaya usaha ini bisa mulai meraup keuntungan,” katanya.

http://www.kaskus.us/showthread.php?t=2944187

Pengen Dapat Duit Sambil Chatting Di Facebook??Klik Disini

[Via http://ntunk.wordpress.com]

News Ticker: Bruce Springsteen, Metallica, Katy Perry, Muse ...

Life Goes On

2010-01-28T01:32:00.000+02:00

“I don’t love you anymore,” she says. I sense her trepidation. It is important for her to be nice. She believes she is nice. There is nothing else she can do. Her whole being cries out to prove it. “I am nice!” It screams in everything she does and says. A nice person cannot hurt another even with her words. She cannot now be any different. It is a habit.

I stare at her without saying anything. I have nothing to say. She has a right to change her mind. I cannot stop that. People change their minds all the time. It is their prerogative. I like to know what she really wants to say. Has she found someone else? Do I bore her? Is she not happy anymore? The questions are many. Yet I wait. If she doesn’t want to explain I can live with that.

“I am sorry,” she speaks looking down at a world I do not see and seems to be at her feet.

“Why?” I am confused by her apology. Why would someone want to do something they have to apologize for.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” her eyes are moist. I want her to know she doesn’t. No one can hurt another without their consent. She doesn’t have mine. I let no one hurt me. I find it unnecessary. The pain, the hurt, the blame game. They all look too stupid and petty to me.

I think about what is it she denies me now. Her love? What was it to begin with? Companionship? A few laughs shared over a coffee? Some nights in each others arms, in a warm bed? Some expectations, unspoken hopes? I wonder what she means she doesn’t love me anymore? What did she love anyway? Me? Who am I? Does she know anything of it? And if she does know who I am and has loved that how can she stop loving me at any moment in time? Has her values changed? How can a man who loves beauty stop loving beauty in life? Is that possible? How can someone who loves honesty stop loving honesty? Does it mean the person has lost his or her integrity? If so, should I be sad now or should she?

“Are you listening to me?” she looks at my face enquiringly. I must have lost something she said.

“Yes. You do not love me anymore. So you say,” I reiterate. To mirror someone’s thoughts reassures them that they are understood. So says pop psychology.

“We had some good times. But I cannot continue anymore. I have to move on. I hope you understand.”

I don’t. I am not interested either. If people want to move on, they can and must. I never was her friend because of any pre-agreed conditions. She wanted me and I wanted her. That was the moment. That was the truth in our lives. Everything else was either a memory or a dream.

“I don’t. But that’s OK. You really don’t need to explain,” I am looking at a fly that is sitting on her shirt, right on top of the left breast. I try to imagine how it felt to hold them in my hands. How they felt against my naked chest. I no longer remember.

I believe everything moves on in life. We move away from places, things and experiences. People move away from us. Nothing is permanent. Unless until a man has integrity. And his values are lasting. Then his experiences last. His love and his relationships last. So does his passion. But what when there is no integrity? What when Man lacks permanence in values? What if he is not expressing his values in his thoughts, actions and speech instead seeking them? What if his very existence is a desperate need to justify his life?

“What did you love in me?” I ask on an impulse.

She looks at me perplexed. “I don’t know. I just loved you,” she is defiant. Yet hesitant.

“I understand. I wish you well. Good bye,” I light a cigarette, and inhale deeply.

“You have nothing to ask me? To tell me?” I am not sure if I heard her plead. But there was an underlying tone that could be easily mistaken for it.

“No. I am clear now. You have been clear before me. So we both can walk away without holding on to the residues of the fog we travelled through.”

The smoke travels in the air and makes strange shapes before my eyes. I wonder if I see truth in it, smiling at me, mockingly.

[Via http://lightafiretonight.wordpress.com]

AMERICAblog News: Obama to propose spending freeze in State of the ...

Time Has Done This To Me

2010-01-26T09:40:00.000+02:00

‘Big Mike’ looks very similar to the late Chris Penn, both in appearance and perceived sleaze. He’s chubby and perpetually sweating, always decked out in the Italian jewelry trifecta — gold watch, rope chain nuzzled under a thatch of chest hair, and a ring that looks like it belongs to a national champion.

A man who is never charged cover at any strip club in the downtown area, he drives an Escalade, refers to blacks as ’shines’, and his nose – which is about five years from swelling into a vein-busted strawberry – always seems to be whistling. If his office door is locked, that means he’s either doing a line, jerking off to internet porn, or getting blown by a member of his staff.

Big Mike is my boss.

“You juh way up?” he asks, his voice muddled by the ball of mashed donut in his mouth, a mist of powdered sugar covering his lips. He slaps a clipboard into my stomach and, sucking on his fingertips, walks back towards his office without waiting for an answer. His office is slightly smaller than the rest of the place, which is always kept around sixty-five degrees and bathed in the dull florescent lights that reflect off art deco white tile. If one didn’t know any better they’d think they were in Miami.

Sitting in the far corner at a cramped desk overflowing with stacks of paperwork and an outdated computer is Lee, Big Mike’s right-hand. Lee works the phones, and generally lurks behind the scenes unless a particular situation can’t be handled civilly. He sports a thick, graying fu manchu, a shaved head and a leather vest over a black t-shirt. Faded tattoos cover his thick, leathery arms, and one of his eyes is dormant, the result of a decades-old altercation outside of a bar he once worked security for. He often has the TV hanging in the corner tuned to Fox News, though he rarely pays attention to it. Tonight he leafs through a wrinkled skin mag from the 80’s, a disturbing grin creasing his face.

“You got Mari doing her usual at eight,” he mumbles, not bothering to look up from his jizz-encrusted copy of Oui. “Bianca’s on with some out-of-towner at the Renaissance about ten…sounded like a business dude or somethin’. Kelly’s floatin’.”

I rifle off three signatures and give the clipboard back to Mike, who in turn hands over a nine millimeter, a clip, a few bill-sized manila envelopes, two Nextel radios and the keys to a 2006 Lexus IS 350. The gun goes into the center console, and the clip into the glove box, where they will most likely stay until it’s time to turn them in at shift’s end.

Though I’ve always held an affinity for public transportation, the car is one of our society’s greatest sanctuaries. And for the next eight hours, my sanctuary comes equipped with heated leather seats, a six-disc changer and excellent reception. The tranquility before the night’s first pick-up is usually enough for me to shake the grim scene over at dispatch, although initially it took a good while before I could easily shake the sight of Lee surfing some bizarre fetish site while Bill O’Reilly ranted about ‘Hollywood pinheads’.

Maricel had left Quebec with the intention of making it to New York City as an exotic dancer, but, as all plan go awry, she somehow found herself in Cleveland seven years later. She lives in an old apartment building just outside of Coventry, is (legitimately) thirty, prefers 96.5 FM, and likes mango iced tea, a can of which I always remember to pick up at the gas station around the corner from her place.

“Hello, darling,” she says as she swings open the door, her back turned and walking away before I even enter. If it weren’t for several misguided tattoos and the wear and tear of lifestyle, she could easily be the most beautiful woman of any room she walked into. She has the full lips that women inject chicken fat into their face to achieve, cocoa skin and thick, teased out hair that reeks of exoticism.

“There’s some in the box above the T.V. if you’d like,” she calls out from the bathroom, fixated on the last few crucial touches of make-up that the intended audience will never notice. Mari always keeps small quantities of high-grade grass around, in a little faux-Chinese box that sits on a shelf of her entertainment center, though she rarely ever partakes. As far as I can tell, most of the time I’m the only one who smokes it.

She only turns one trick a week, with the same john, a polite and well-off man in his fifties whose wife passed away that we refer to as ‘Mr. C.’. Every Saturday he takes her to dinner, sometimes a show, and then they retreat to a room at the Renaissance for two hours.

This is a unique case — most johns merely want a stranger to whip in and out of a hotel room, occasionally a drink or two at the hotel bar to set the mood. They don’t want a date, but rather to dominate. Standard procedure consists of me having a brief chat with the john where I give a perfunctory listing of terms before I return with the girl and collect the initial fee, never to be seen again unless things go awry.

The Mr. C gig requires me to be a chauffeur of sorts, a position I often find myself uncomfortable with, not out of any shame or degradation, but because I feel that neither the situation or myself possess the class necessary to not feel like a complete schmuck wearing the only suit he owns catering to a very lonely man. But the free buzz Mari provides while she does her make-up and the twenty Mr. C. always slips me at date’s end combine to make it one of the routines I look forward to.

“You on all night, darling?” She calls everyone ‘darling’, unless we’re working the act. Somehow I get the feeling that Mr. C’s guts would drop like bricks if he ever realized that the moniker wasn’t reserved for only him.

“When am I ever not?” I ask with a wheeze as I hold in smoke, thumbing through the same coffeetable art book I’ve flipped through about a half dozen times.

“You’re an old soul in a baby boy’s body, you know that right?” I always find that the ‘old soul’ compliment bats 1.000, as everyone believes it about themselves, and it carries the compliment of sophistication and scarcity.

She glides into the living room as she affixes an earring, reaching two shelves above the grass box to grab a tray containing a small octagon shaped mirror and a thin glass straw. Sitting over the table on her knees, she taps out a small pile and carves herself a line, looking towards me for my usual dismissive head shake.

“Whew,” she says, vacuuming her sinuses and blinking rapidly for a few seconds after intake. Once again, I picture whatever warped fantasy Mr. C harbors being painfully destroyed if he were to ever know. I don’t know what’s sadder — this scenario or the fact that most relationships aren’t that much different. One revelation, one realization, one hidden secret away from collapsing the whole house of cards.

I do not look him in the eye. I do not speak unless spoken to. Once the rate has been set and the retainer has been paid, I am a ghost in the presence of the john. He does not know my name. I do not know his. I am entirely anonymous, aside from the fact that I am in a way the guardian of this girl and his secrets.

I try not to think so much during the down time. The Cavs game on the radio, late night call-in talk shows, crossword puzzles, hollow but needed conversation with strangers at the hotel bar — any and all distractions must be utilized to avoid the quicksand of thinking about what I’m doing or where I’ve been. Like so many others, I focus on and lead a life within a life, carrying on text and phone conversations with friends and lovers of a past life who are hundreds and thousands of miles away in geography and beyond. Technology has provided us with the opportunity to transform them from static memory to active distraction from present reality.

Though I try not to, I picture Mr. C’s contorted face in the heat of the moment, and in my mind it’s not much different than Lee’s back at dispatch. I see through Mari’s act to the bored face and dead eyes. A drop of Mr. C’s sweat falls on her collarbone and it chills her to the core. She tries to focus on the Saturday Night Live monologue coming from the unwatched T.V., but can’t block out the pathetic and passionate call of her name. Then again, maybe it’s not all that bad.

Once boredom sets in, I find myself chastising him out loud, demanding that he hurry up and get on with it. I ponder how a man as old as he is can go this long. I rifle through the radio dial and light a cigarette and sometimes take an unnecessary spin around the block to watch the parade of the desolate stalk through the decaying streets of Cleveland. Perhaps she’s in the midst of receiving an awkward display of affection or confession. They’re fairly common from what I’ve been told. A lot of the girls have reported tricks that involved more rudimentary forms of therapy than fucking.

Most roads of thought lead to the conclusion that the hollow transaction between the two aren’t much different than the vast majority of relationships I’ve survived and witnessed. I’d like to think that more often than not I let romanticism win out over cynical nihilism, but it’s not easy in the confines of a heated Lexus, protected from the schizophrenics that pound the pavement looking for marks, floors below Marciel and Mr. C, listening to the news at the top and bottom of every hour that’s made up of reports of chaotic inhumanity and gross incompetence; talking idly with ghosts from the past who converse for the exact same reason – a lack of passion for what’s in front of us and a desire for a life that’s passed.

On the way back, he kisses her neck softly. The stereotype in our business is true — kissing isn’t cool. But, ever the exception, Mr. C pays hefty bonus money for his hourly romance. She puts on a fine act, but I can hear the patronization in her breaths and giggles, and I can feel her body worm as it happens, and, every once in awhile, she darts a quick, frantic and hopeless glance directly at the rear view mirror and I catch it.

Lately, when that happens, it’s the closest and most honest bond that I feel to anyone.

[Via http://drivingafterdark.wordpress.com]

CBB Rolling News: Day 23 | The Sun |Showbiz|Big Brother

Ted Haggard: Liked Little Boys Too And The Church Apparently Paid To Hide It

2010-01-26T01:53:00.000+02:00

I recently viewed a video of a boy that spoke out about what happened to him when on a trip with Ted Haggard. It appears that the Church paid Haggard 380k to stay out of the public spotlight and they paid the boy (the victim of 21 years of age) to keep quite.

However, the boy decided it was more important to break their confidentiality agreement and let everyone know. I find it ironic that the boy could be charged with a crime by breaking the agreement, even though he was the victim. I also find it ironic that the person the committed the sin/crime got paid more than twice what the victim was paid. All in the name of God.

These fucking people will coverup anything and pretend to be so holy and pure and disciples of Jesus Christ. Of course, they don’t think they did anything wrong. Amazing, isn’t it?

[Via http://truelogic.wordpress.com]

Pundita: Haiti Crisis Breaking News: Search for survivors still ...

Lets talk about Sext's baby... Lets talk about SMS

2010-01-24T17:26:00.000+02:00

Well readers the weekend has come to a close and so has yet another weekend. A weekend for some probably resulted in some drunken bar makeouts, maybe a date, maybe a walk of shame or maybe a quite night in. I will have to admit while the opportunity to go out and have fun was presented, I opted to stay in and have a quite weekend… but it was not without event. For you see… it does not matter where or what or who you are doing… you can always be the victim or bestowed the honour of a sext..

Whats a Sext?? Well with our modern age of iPhones, Blackberrys and Microsoft knock off phones many have resorted to sending sexy or dirty “text messages”… Thus “Sext’s” (Sex + text for those challenged people). And as luck would have it I got a few myself.. Normally a sext is received after the witching hour and often full of spelling and grammatical errors.

For Example

“Hey this bar sucks… what are you doing?” (Translation: I’m horny, drunk and want to come over to your place/bed)

“I wanna do things to you” (Translation: I don’t know how to be sexy over the phone but really do i need to say more?)

“I’m horny… whatcha doin?”

“Where are you….”

Granted there are many other examples, permutations, levels of sexyness but it all depends on who or what is sexting you. I often am the subject of the ever subtle sexts like “This bar sucks” or “Hey wanna hang out” followed either by “Can i Come over”… which readers if you haven’t figured out at 1:00am+ it is not a social call for tea.. Often if you are lucky and they are drunk enough you will even get a photo via SMS… which if your mean means you will most likely post it on your blog at some point…. *wink*

So before I end this post I will give you some advice on keeping the upper hand in these situations

1. Never make yourself too available… Chances are if they want you at one point they will still want you later

2. Immediate reply’s are never good… they make you look desperate… unless your too horny to function.. take a break before a response

3. Never seem too eager, just respond in a way that makes it seem like it’s no big deal for you

4. If you are not interested but want to continue enjoying the odd Sext, be flirty, sexy and fun.. but never follow through.. always forget, or have your phone suddenly die, or fall asleep.

5. Remember if you go to their place it gives you the opportunity to leave asap!! No worry about having to coerce them into leaving when this special friend has served his or her.. his and hers’ or his and his or hers and hers.. purpose.

Remember readers in any situation whether dates, sexts, hookups it is always important to keep the power and make sure you keep the upper hand, don’t let yourself be the victim of being used and thrown away with the morning trash.

-Mr.X

[Via http://datinginthecity.wordpress.com]

BREAKING NEWS: scientist admits IPCC used fake data to pressure ...

Movie Review: Sublime

2010-01-24T01:49:00.000+02:00

This is quality horror. Great characters. Not quirky kind of great, real people in extraordinary circumstances kind of great. The actors are top notch. Tom Cavanagh stars as the man who’s life goes from perfection to hell instantly. He hits every note with perfection. A real man who’s fears become reality and endures with all the courage humanly possible.

I loved the film but felt it fell into some major traps. Writer Erik Jendresen and director Tony Krantz, as far as I can tell, are not horror people. They have worked in numerous genres. This is possibly why the strength of characters and fresh dialogue. No snappy horror one liners. However, I think they were afraid this scary movie wouldn’t get the horror moniker without some gratuitous sex and violence. That’s what horror is, right? Sex and violence with some startling moments thrown in? Yes. It is. But no, it doesn’t have to be to get to sit on the horror shelf at Blockbuster (or I guess, as you kids call it, list in the horror section of Netflix). it could have been about 15 minutes shorter, though. At some point, the ending becomes obvious and the scary scenes aren’t necessary. We’re following the characters on a journey so we don’t need the gore shots. I’m afraid that’s what the mistake was.

[Via http://splitid.wordpress.com]

Helen Duffett: News reviews - and a digestion question

DATE RAPE 101

2010-01-23T09:19:00.000+02:00

When people think of rape, they only think of the perpetrator as someone who is a stranger jumping out of a shadowy place and sexually attacking someone.

But it’s not only strangers who rape. In fact, about half of all people who are raped are on familiar terms with the person who attacked them. Girls and women are most often raped, but guys also can be raped.

Even if the two people know each other well, and even if they were intimate or had sex before, no one has the right to force a sexual act on another person against his or her will. Although it involves forced sex, rape is not about sex or passion. Rape has nothing to do with love. Rape is an act of cruelty and violence. You may hear some people say that those who have been raped were somehow “asking for it” because of the way they were dressed, or the way they acted. That’s wrong: The person who is raped is not to blame. Rape is always the fault of the rapist. And that’s also the case when two people are dating, or even in an intimate relationship. One person never owes the other person sex because they had to pay for a date or drinks. If sex is forced against someone’s will, that’s rape… Read more

http://www.sevafrica.com/modules/safety/article.php?news_id=51

[Via http://sevafrica.wordpress.com]

News Ticker: Fiona Apple, Cam'ron, The Doors, Teddy Pendergrass ...

Question of the day

2010-01-23T01:53:00.000+02:00

“Does the paddle hurt?”

It’s one of the search terms that landed people in my blog. It isn’t one of the oddest ones I’ve seen by any means but this particular one caught my attention because it just sounds… well so cute!

Let me explain.

When I saw it, I immediately imagined a fellow bdsm spanko ingénue sitting in front of their computer, typing this up. Maybe they’ve never had a spanking and have been fantasizing about one… or maybe they’ve been spanked but just lightly and are *just* venturing into something more serious… maybe their top has made promises of impending doom and they are shaking in their boots and dying of arousal. I didn’t imagine any particular gender or age mind you… just that particular mindset of the virginal. I remembered/imagined the sense of intrigue, the near obsession, the curiosity, all so rich in desire and heavy in yearning that they almost have a unique taste or texture, oddly satisfying and yet by innate nature lacking in sensory input which makes it all maddeningly lacking. Can you see it? (remember it?)… looking at pictures, videos… watching the expressions on the bottom’s face, the grimace, the yelp and moan… listening to the sound the wood makes on flesh. Watching the flesh flatten and bounce, see the bruises bloom… reading stories… wondering, “is it that bad?” or “is it worse than this?”.

Tee hee.

Well sweet innocent ones…

It HURTS.

It will overload your senses. It will set all your neurons firing at such rate that you will literally will get stuck between the fight and flight response. The pain will be sharp enough that you wonder why you ever wanted to be on the receiving end.

Then endorphins kick in.

Don’t get me wrong, it still hurts. But now it’s also niiiice. But still hurty.

THEN I started thinking about when I used to work on the hotline for teens to ask any questions they had about sex, etc and the creeps that used to call in and ask the same question over and over again just to hear someone talk about it. There was this one particular guy that kept calling with the same question. The older operators knew his voice and disconnected but anytime he got a new person, he’d trick them into answering his seemingly innocent question and as they were explaining, he would just start asking weirder and weirder questions geared to have you repeat certain terms like “vagina” or “penis” and by this point you could hear he was getting excited and probably jacking off.

*shudder*

For those of you… you know who you are… one word:

EW

EWWW

EEEEEW

EEEEEEWWW

At least you aren’t doing it to poor volunteers who take time out of their busy life to help teens have a safe space to learn about sex.

Now dinner and then sleep. Seriously. Tired.

[Via http://dirtyingenue.wordpress.com]

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2010-01-21T09:43:00.000+02:00

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Vanguard News Online

The Joys of Planned Parenthood

2010-01-21T01:36:00.000+02:00

Disclaimer: I’m a Democrat. I support Planned Parenthood and their mission to serve those who are underprivileged and cannot afford healthcare. However, I am now going to freely hate on that institution.

Ever since I’ve moved to PA, I’ve been hitting up Planned Parenthood for my womanly needs. Mostly this means that I frequent their association for my birth control.

Yes, I have health insurance. No, I don’t need to utilize Planned Parenthood in lieu of a regular doctor’s office. It’s close to my apartment. And, being a Democrat, I like to support institutions that provide that kind of medical assistance for women.

HOWEVER, this Planned Parenthood is shady. The location isn’t really that shady, but the facility itself is a pile of weird. Aside from the fact that you have to produce your license before they buzz you into the waiting room, the waiting room is sort of gross and dingy. Whatever, I’m not that pretentious, I can handle a little grime.

What I can’t handle is their extreme disorganization. Don’t get me started. Seriously. Don’t. Let me just say that I went there to pick up birth control, a process that just requires them looking up my health insurance, swiping my debit card, giving me some pills, and me leaving. That process could take 15 minutes, right? Ha. It took an hour and forty five minutes. And, that is the norm. TWO HOURS OF WAITING FOR SOME PILLS. Sigh.

The only redeeming quality? I get to listen to the craziest stories in the waiting room. And I get to text Sarah #1 with the play by play.

For instance, tonight, one particular patron was sitting with her friend who told her about a good book she had read. The girl replied, “I don’t read. The last time I read a book was when I was locked up.”

Wowza. Maybe if she read more books she wouldn’t be pregnant with her 3rd kid, there for an abortion (while she told her boyfriend she was going for a bladder infection), and MAYBE she’d know to talk quieter.

And, let’s not forget the gentleman who was there for an STD test, fighting on the phone with his girlfriend who apparently said she’d get a pap smear and hasn’t done it. Meanwhile, he was getting tested for the SAKE OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP. His words.

The last time I was there, a group of middle school (um, do middle schoolers know what sex is?) Catholic kids were staging a demonstration outside in the parking lot. They marched in a straight line, wearing their school uniforms, clutching their rosaries, and reciting prayers. I should feel bad that I openly laughed when I walked past them to my car, but I don’t.

Until that 12 year old boy praying for me can say “vagina” without blushing, I don’t need him to pray for my vagina related sins. Thanks though, I appreciate your effort.

I just didn’t realize God didn’t want me to go to Planned Parenthood to make sure I don’t have any cancer up in there. My bad. God totally wouldn’t approve of my breast exam. God hates my boobs. It’s in the Bible, I’m sure. Thou shalt not visit Planned Parenthood for a glucose test. Sorry, God.

Sarah #1, my vehicle to God, did not inform me that I shouldn’t take care of my personal health. Blame her.

So, I guess what I’m trying to say is that if you have 2 hours to spare and want to listen to some trashy conversations that will make you question the world you’re living in and want to lecture all those around you, check out Planned Parenthood. It’s like a soap opera. Only scarier because it’s real.

Plus, you can spend the time guessing who’s there for what? Blue shirt girl – STD. Girl in dress – pregnant. Ugly chick – no health insurance. It’s a fun game.

But, beware, God won’t approve of your visit. Even if it’s just for the stories.

[Via http://sewwhatsarahs.wordpress.com]

Glenn Beck Producer Leaves Fox News For MSNBC

River of Innocents: Modern Slavery in Our Nation and World.

2010-01-19T09:42:00.000+02:00

WASHINGTON, D.C., January 2010–Terry Lee Wright will speak at Georgetown Law this Thursday, January 21st, at noon, about modern human slavery and his experience writing River of Innocents.

“Slavery is everywhere today, even a few dozen blocks from the U.S. Capitol,” explains Wright. “Slavery is a living fact: thousands of people are enslaved for the first time every day, many of them teenagers in the United States. I wrote River of Innocents because we can end that slavery–because of the people who can and should be free. Each of us can help make that freedom a reality.”

The U.S. State Department’s Trafficking in Person’s Report indicates that human trafficking is a criminal enterprise with millions of victims annually but fewer than five thousand prosecutions world-wide each year.

The Anti-Human Trafficking and Migrant Smuggling Unit of the UN Office on Drugs and Crime has called River of Innocents “A global call to arms in the fight against trafficking.”

source: http://www.traffickingblog.com/?p=99

[Via http://cjaye57.wordpress.com]

Non-Stop News -- Political Wire

HIV - Knowing YOUR real risk

2010-01-19T01:46:00.000+02:00

Lots of HIV figures you see in the newspapers are national averages. What you DON”T know, but SHOULD be looking at, are the rates amongst the sub-groups you are having sex with.

‘Cos by averaging the cases across the entire country’s huge population, the HIV rates looks less scary, the countries don’t look so bad. High risk sub-groups are where most of the HIV cases are concentrated in.

Your risk :

In Asia, MSM (Men who have Sex with Men) are disproportionately affected by HIV. HIV prevalence amongst MSM in Bangkok estimated at 28%. If you went to Bangkok and had unprotected sex with 3 men who have sex with men, at least 1 of them could be HIV+.

.

In Sg, >90% of HIV+ are male. 1/4 these men are/were married. >90% females are/were married. (See diagram)

What does this mean?

It means that if you (female or male, married or not) are having sex with a MSM, the statistics alone put you at much higher risk.

If you’re having anal sex, (female or male), the biology puts you at a much higher risk.

If you think you can get away by having a young girl or boy, that’s the stupidest assumption to ever make in your life. Yes, even if you’re straight.

In Asian cities where the sex workers don’t ask for condoms, half of them can be HIV+. And because people presume younger sex workers are less risky, more people go for the young ones. Hence, HIV prevalence amongst the under-20yr olds can be >2 times that over the above-20yr olds.

In Sg, ~50% the HIV infections detected only in the late stage. This means that there are probably many more HIV+ people who are very healthy, unaware of their status, and transmitting it if they’re having unprotected sex.

That means you could unknowingly spread it to your wife, and by the time you fall ill, it’s been 5 years too late.

Your life as a consequence

In Dec08, we thought HIV was going to be treated like any other chronic diseases, and generic drugs subsidised (http://mathialee.wordpress.com/2008/12/02/say-yes-to-aids-treatment-subsidies/ )

( Health Minister Khaw Boon Wan told The Straits Times he agreed with the view that HIV should be treated ‘like any chronic disease’. ‘The committee of experts will apply the same approach as they do when evaluating drugs for other diseases. We should not single out HIV for special treatment,’ he said. ….. Health Minister asked the Communicable Diseases Centre (CDC) to draw up a list of drugs that should be eligible for subsidies. http://app.mfa.gov.sg/pr/read_content.asp?View,11626, Full Report in Comments)

Over the weekend, we learn that HIV treatments are NOT going to be subsidized. They can now be funded by Medifund.

(Offering subsidies for all patients could “open a floodgate”, he noted. While previous media reports pointed to the ministry subsidising HIV medication, MOH told MediaCorp on Friday: “Minister Khaw Boon Wan and MOH did not commit in 2008 to subsidising HIV medication.” “Our stand in 2008 was that HIV should be considered like any other chronic disease when evaluating the suitability of providing subsidies for medications.” “MOH has chosen to use the Medifund route to more flexibly help HIV patients with their bills, including that for anti-retroviral drugs if needed. Doing so allows available funds to be focused to provide appropriate amounts of assistance to the most deserving cases.” http://www.todayonline.com/Print/Singapore/EDC100116-0000124/Medifund-to-help-needy-Sporeans-who-require-HIV-treatment )

This means that you still have to fork out ~$1200 of your salary each month for HIV treatments. That’s if you keep your job, because there are no laws protecting your job. It means that this (http://mathialee.wordpress.com/2008/11/11/living-with-hiv-in-singapore/ ) could still be your life. When you get to a desperately poor stage however, you can now use Medifund. Or you can still go to Thailand to get 3-months supply at a time for $100-200 at anytime.

What’s my point? What can you do?.

My point is that, please, just NEVER have unprotected sex. ALWAYS use a condom. Condoms are 99% protective, when used 100% of the time, correctly.

Please remember, HIV is NOT like other Chronic Diseases (and will NOT be treated as one, in terms of subsidies too).

Why?

One cigarette won’t give you lung cancer. One fatty MacDonald’s meal won’t give you a heart attack. One huge glass of coke won’t give you diabetes. You have to screw up again and again, over years and years, by smoking and eating/drinking unhealthily.

But HIV is different.

You can do the right thing 99.9% of the time. Use a condom 99% of the time. Be faithful 99% of the time. Probably even abstain 99% of the time.

But just one slip-up. One mistake. One moment of carelessness when you were drunk.

Just ONCE. And that’s enough. HIV infection is not something you accumulate through years of casual unsafe sex. It’s something you get in a single sex session.

And for that you pay. You pay with your health, your dignity, and your finances.

While the guy next door who ate char kway teow for 50 years and now has a stroke lies in the C class ward with loads of subsidies and sympathy.

Life is not fair. The world is not fair. People are not fair.

So don’t let yourself down. You’re the only one who can take care of yourself. Please stay safe, always use a condom (yes, 1 condom, not 2) .

( I would love to ask you to help spread this message. However, be warned: there will be people who will accuse you of encouraging homosexuality or a gay lifestyle or immorality. Since male homosexuality is against the law, you may be accused of abetting a criminal act. You may lose your friends.)

( Sources: WHO Best Practices publication “HIV and Men who have Sex with Men in Asia and the Pacific”.

-J Infect. 2006 Oct;53(4):255-9. Epub 2005 Dec 27.

-AIDS. 2000 Dec 1;14(17):2731-40.

- MOH http://www.moh.gov.sg/mohcorp/statistics.aspx?id=246 )

[Via http://mathialee.wordpress.com]

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TTC: On to Month 3 of Clomid

2010-01-17T09:35:00.000+02:00

Just a quick update on our TTC journey:

I was so hopeful! Great progesterone numbers and well over a week late. But unfortunately, it was too good to be true. Friday was a very tough day/night for me. First of all, I am not used to all these extra hormones in my body, and I think that at age 27 I finally have learned what PMS is. Wow, hormones can make me one moody mommy-wannabe. I had at least 4 short crys over it, but I’m okay now. Certainly disappointed. And much poorer. I took an at home PT every day I was late (because I couldn’t wait to know) totaling over $70. Then add nearly $35 to that for the OPK, and another $20 for my Clomid, and the $30+ for the blood draw. I guess all of these extra expenses will help me learn to adjust my budget for diapers or other baby expenses.

I am considering taking a few months off of drugs (aka: clomid) after this month if it is not successful. If not this one then shortly thereafter. I am not willing to undergo a bunch of invasive treatments. Also, I don’t like how lovemaking is becoming sex. It isn’t always that way, but I feel like TTC for a long period of time really takes the romance out of the intimate part of a relationship. I want to hang on to that romance, so if it means taking a few months “off” where there are no OPK’s or Clomid then it is worth it to me. My husband is the most wonderful man in the world and it is so important to me to keep things as alive in our marriage as possible. I am sure that sounds desperate in a way, but if you’ve ever been in a bad relationship you may be able to relate. My bad experience was my first marriage which was a sexless marriage. It is such an important part of a loving healthy relationship. I’m not desperate, just in love and am grateful for my husband.

Speaking of keeping romance in the relationship…we will be celebrating our one year wedding anniversary this month! I have a very steamy gift for my hubby. (For those of you who do not like personal details I have whited out this section. To make the words magically appear, highlight the white section following this and there will be a reverse black image for you to read.): I had a two day photo shoot with my wedding photographer since we were also models for her for competition photos. So…before day two’s official shoot on the beach and in the ocean, we took some TASTEFUL boudoir/lingerie shots. My photographer sent me a text a couple days ago saying the photos are ready and that she is having her assistant mail them out on Wednesday. Can’t wait to see how they turned out. It is so not like me to do anything like that, so I’m sure he will be totally surprised. We have a strict no strippers, no porn philosophy in our relationship. But I understand that men are very visual creatures, so I hope that he enjoys this gift. And, someday when I am 30 years older, I will look at my young body and appreciate that I documented my former youth.

So, back to the TTC process. I mentioned adoption to my husband a night or two ago. He doesn’t think we are ready for that yet and is convinced that we will have our own biological children. I think it has always been in my heart to adopt. Even we are lucky to have one or two biological children I would still love to adopt! Personally, I think it would be very healthy for us to adopt now so that I feel less pressure on myself to get pregnant. Chad is not ready for that, so it I guess it isn’t an option and I need to get that idea out of my head.

Well, on to month three of clomid. I hope it does the trick again with getting my progesterone numbers right where they need to be. That was definitely one BIG positive of last month. Good luck to all my readers out there who are also on their TTC/motherhood journey.

I love hearing from my readers. Take a minute to leave a reply. And don’t forget to hit the subscribe button! Thanks for reading the Autonomous Blogger.

[Via http://autonomousblogger.wordpress.com]

Alligators Breathe Like Birds - Science News

Moscow Traffic-stopping Porno Clip

2010-01-17T01:26:00.000+02:00

The showing of a two-minute hardcore porno clip on an outdoor advertising screen in Moscow will be investigated, city officials said on Friday.

driving in Moscow looks like Fun!

via: http://en.rian.ru/russia/20100115/157563445.html

by Arthur and Arf

[Via http://punjapit.wordpress.com]

Apple to step up acquisition initiatives? | iLounge News

office with stockings.

2010-01-16T09:50:00.000+02:00

Aseara, stateam linistit in casa. Planurile mele de a iesi la o betie au fost anulate din motive de o stare de lene cronica. In schimb, dupa o zi destul de obositoare, ma relaxam in fata calculatorului cu un pahar de whiskey simplu cu geata si o asteptam pe R.

Cat timp am fost disparut in bucatarie, incercand sagasesc raportul corect de whiskey si cola pentru ea, a disparut si ea pe undeva, lucru pe care l-am realizat cand am ajuns cu bautura ei in living. Dupa 2-3 minute a aparut, in toata spledoarea ei: camasa alba cu o esarfa neagra pe post de cravata, o portjartiera neagra- transaparenta, ciorapi negrii si pantofi nergrii cu toc; parul ei de cularea cognacului, cu ii place ei sa-i zica, prins la spate cu un creion. Ochelarii i-a uitat pe biroul meu. Totusi, era o fantezie materilizata. Inca una.

R, o persoana atat de naturala si de sincera, atat de provocatoare…pe-atat de galagioasa. In timp ce ii faceam sex oral colo, pe canapea, ma uitam la ea, o priveam cum se desfata primind placere orala. Erotismul momentul consta in simplu fapt ca nu am dat nimic jos de pe ea. Totul s-a terminat printru-un geamat puternic de-al ei. Pentru mine placerea suprema in aceste momente e atuci sa imi simt capul strans intre coapse puternice.

Dormitorul, muzica si noi doi facand sex. Vecini batand in pereti (norocul meu e ca acei vecini stau un alta sacara). Pe parcurs ce inaintam in noapte s-a termitat si sticla de whiskey pe masura ce se termina si R. La un moment dat mi-a zis ca a pierdut numarul orgasmelor, lucru care m-a facut sa ma simt ca un zeu al sexului.

Dimineta a plecat la birou, lasandu-ma sa imi continui somnul de care aveam atata nevoie.

Cat de buna poate fi cafeaua si in dimineata aceasta.

[Via http://addictionto.wordpress.com]

Latest Iran News (16 January): Ripples | Enduring America

Reasons for cheating

2010-01-16T01:45:00.000+02:00

People have different reasons for cheating their partners or putting themselves in an illicit relationship or discreet affair. Usually, men do it for four reasons:

• Virility. Men want assurance that they are still virile and desirable even though they are already married. It boosts their ego to get attention and acknowledgment from women other than their wife.

• Excitement. There are men who believe that having a discreet relationship is more exciting than having a legal one. For some married men, this allows them to relieve their excitement felt during their early dating days.

• Sex. Boring sex is often the major reason why men go astray. When they realize that sex with their wives is not happening as frequently and as exciting as before, they try to look for it somewhere else.

• Exits. Men who feel trapped of their current relationship and duty as a breadwinner make affairs as the escape route to relive family pressures.

Meanwhile, here are the top reasons why some women cheat:

• Attention. Women usually want to get more attention. If they do not get enough attention or emotional needs at home, they try to find it elsewhere.

• Sex. It is not as prevalent compared to men, but women still consider desire for more sex as one of the reasons for cheating.

• Escape. There are times when women get bored on their daily routines at home. So, they consider cheating as a way to escape boredom.

Generally, cheaters consider a discreet affair as a way to temporarily forget their problems or escape their current depressing situation.

However, discreet relationship is not always easy and healthy. Aside from ruining the marital relationship, it always has an emotional effect on the children. Therefore, it’s wise to just stay away from any affair as much as possible, and if ever you suspect your partner to be having an affair, address it at once and resolve any relationship issues you have before it leads to divorce.

[Via http://loveaffairdetector.wordpress.com]

Jewlicious » Jewish News Roundup

3:15 a.m.

2010-01-14T09:16:00.000+02:00

my attempted separation with the lawyer didn’t take. she’s a bitch that way and that’s the way i like her. so i didn’t see the point in breaking it off.

just another attempt to push them all away. she says she doesn’t want to go anywhere, i’ve heard it so many times before.. and i guess it’s been long enough that i’m going to take a chance on believing it. i’m staying un-invested.. distant.. unavailable most of the time. if she doesn’t get to know me she won’t have any reason to leave.

i have these flashbacks of being on the train in boston… my right arm gripping the bar above me, my left arm wrapped around her. so close, so secure, so comfortable. i remember being really happy in that moment.

maybe i want that again, but maybe nothing lasts forever and i can’t take the chance again.

if i could put myself back in that moment, i would’ve held her closer.

[Via http://ninezronine.wordpress.com]

EXCLUSIVE: 'Ghostbusters 3′ Script Is In, Ivan Reitman Confirms He ...

Untitled.

2010-01-14T01:50:00.000+02:00

I don’t know what to write about today, but I feel that I should write about something. Hmmmm…

Well…Tomorrow starts the date that I start to majorly work on advertising for my next gallery showing in the little sleepy town of Paola Kansas. I know that some people won’t say that it is THAT bad in that city, but when you have lived through what I have, Paola is boring. However, from what I’ve been told, Paola is a nice little artist haven…which is odd since the Kansas City Crossroads Art District is not more than, what…like an hours drive north? But I guess a lot of “older” artist live in Paola who show down in the Crossroads a lot and have works in collections all over the world and they all live there. I guess it is because it is a cheap place to live…so one could live on a artist income.

The thing is though, that all of the artist around here still seem content on showing only locally and not really trying to branch out to see what they can maybe do. At least the artist that I personally know and ones that I’ve just talked to or even just heard about, they all seem content on either A. having one gallery showing per year, or B: just doing nothing.

Personally, I want to show in as many places and I can, all over the world. I want to take it over! And I need Your Help. If you do like my work, let me know (and if you’ve never seen it then Shame ON YOU…lmao, but really, you need to. go check it out

Just watch out, someday, you, the person who is reading this email, will know my name.

[Via http://chrisortizphoto.wordpress.com]

Palin to Fox News: 'I am Thrilled to be Joining the Great Talent ...

Seperation anxiety... with my libido

2010-01-12T09:51:00.000+02:00

The past couple of days I have been horny as hell.

Well, that might have been a bit of an exaggeration, but at least I have been hornier than I was in the months and months before. Then suddenly it hit me: I had stopped taking my contraceptives pills, because I kept forgetting them, and I would be getting a new contraceptive soon (Implanon). The pill is known for lowering libido, and apparently this effect had been greater than I thought. (I had quit contraceptives before, for a few months, but that was just after the rape, so the higher libido was overshadowed by the negative effects of that event).

I got my implanon yesterday. And now I’m afraid my libido will be gone again. I just started to feel like myself again!

*puh*

[Via http://nuclearrainbow.wordpress.com]

Celebrity Cool News! | coolwebgossip.com

Love Song

2010-01-12T01:46:00.000+02:00

This week’s Dustinland was, in its earliest form, going to be a sort of discussion about how lyrics in popular music have gotten just a wee bit more explicit as time has progressed, but I thought that was a pretty boring, obvious subject, at least if considered in the way it traditionally is. So here’s a little twist on the matter — one that’s hopefully more entertaining than it would have been in illustrated essay form, if you will.

Oh, and just in case you’re not getting this one: all the dialogue in this strip is from song lyrics.

[Via http://dustinland.wordpress.com]

Biggest news at CES: 152-inch Panasonic plasma | DVICE

Myth Number Two: I’m a Neanderthal

2010-01-10T17:26:00.000+02:00

Special thanks to Daisy for bringing this to my attention.

Apparently it’s all very simple. I am trying to use my beauty to seduce a mate who will father my children. I’ll judge him by his strength, status and power. I’ll try to remain captivating for as long as I can, so that he will provide for my children, rather than pursue his goal of promiscuous, indiscriminate sex with younger women (probably secretaries). I should really stop writing and pluck my eyebrows.

This is what evolutionary psychology tells me, anyway. The thesis is that I am pre-programmed to act in this way, because I inherited the genes from ancestors who did it and survived. As objections clamour in my mind to be heard, the one that shouts the loudest is “if that’s true, then how, after all these years of men choosing beautiful women, do we still have so many utterly ugly women?”, but I’ll put that to one side for now.

What I find interesting is the time which they choose to fix on, when men killed hairy mammoths and women dusted the cave. It’s the same one fantasised by both Hobbes and Rousseau, a ‘state of Nature’ before culture got its grubby hands on us and bent us to its will. It’s the one early anthropologists thought they had discovered in Africa and the colonies when they were trying to prove that white people are better because they are ‘more civilised’. The idea of a time before culture is very appealing; in it we can find an image of our purer selves freed from the mores of society, freed even from morality.

Another thing I find interesting is how terminally useless we are at understanding other societies. Even today, in a globalised society with better communication technology than has ever been known, British Islamophobia has reached such fevered levels that I sometimes wonder if we’ve moved far beyond maps with “Here Be Dragons!” written on them. When European artists went east they came back with paintings of hordes of scantily clad sexually available women. Few of them bothered mentioning that they hadn’t actually been allowed inside the harem, and the women’s more accurate paintings strangely didn’t prove as popular. When anthropologists went to Africa they told tales of animalistic, super-sexed women. The kind who leave scratch marks on your back.

Henriette Brownie, A Visit: Harem Interior, Constantinople, 1860,

Are you noticing a theme here? Yes, when men don’t know the answer, they fantasise about sex. Reporting on cultures, they fantasise one in which the women are sexually available. It’s hardly a new discovery, Homer represented it pretty well with Odysseus’ sexual exploits. To be fair, I’m prone to the occasional fantasy about sexually available women myself. It gets dangerous, however, when you call it science. Well respected men published studies about the sexual voracity of African races; black women still have a reputation for animal lust and are constantly depicted that way in pornography. Harem images, I’m sure, have influenced our understanding of relationships in the Muslim world and fed into our burka panic.

So what does this tell us about evolutionary psychology? It tells us to be wary of conclusions drawn from examination of another society, because we may well be mistaken about the nature of that society. It tells us to be suspicious if the tale we are being told is one of the candy-shop of girls variety. And is it? I’m afraid so. Evolutionary psychologists envision a society in which women did their utmost to be pleasing and men slept around, so we do it, too. I do wonder what their wives think.

I think we can learn more from the fact of evolutionary psychology’s speculation than we can from its contents. Men like to envision a world in which they get to shag pretty women. Hang on, we already knew that. So why go to all the effort of putting the label of science on it? Because most people believe that there is objective truth to be found in science. If you take the long view, most science, most of the time, has been wrong, but we are positive about its potential. Often we find what we want to find. So why do we want to find that men are promiscuous and women clingy?

I suspect that it is because you can do a lot of things with the word “natural.” It sells everything from face cream to potatoes. Being a vegetarian, I hear the argument “it’s only natural” often from defensive meat-eaters. I usually suppress the retort that I could name any number of natural things they wouldn’t do in front of me. So when we fantasise about a prehistoric time when we did what was natural, what is our response to it? A bit of philandering only natural. So’s rape, too, when you come to think of it.

I’m not saying that there’s a mass conspiracy of evolutionary psychologists advocating rape. I’m not even saying that even a significant proportion of the population would think like that. I’m just pointing out that when we dip into science, we should recall its tendency to disguise mass communal fantasies. We should keep in mind the Black and Asian women still fighting inaccurate perceptions today. We should remember that these are real people, including the gays, lesbians, childless, promiscuous women and, God love them, the monogamous men.

[Via http://notanodalisque.wordpress.com]

Indonesia » Current News Trends

Megan Fox Whoring It Up

2010-01-10T01:03:00.000+02:00

Megan Fox was phenomenally sexy, full luscious curves, come hither eyes, wonderful smile and silky smooth skin. Then for no explicable reason she went funked herself up with a bunch of tattoos. Not just a tramp stamp to entertain whoever is lucky is enough to bend her over. No we’re talking full on skank level "ink".

It breaks my heart to see a perfectly serviceable piece of ass ruin her God given gifts by having a bunch crap drawn all over herself with indelible ink.

COME ON LADIES »» Body art is for convicts and drunken sailors.

Here’s a little secret for you. The only reason men tell you it’s sexy is because they’re envisioning you in a dingy, low class tattoo parlor, butt in air with some burly guy making you wince. After all everybody knows girls with big tattoos are into anal sex.

Now here’s how she’s supposed to look:

Challenge Of The Day: Work the phrase "butt snorkling" into conversation.

Fun & Tell Challenge is where you accept the challenge then come back and post a comment telling everybody about it.

[Via http://ianspenser.wordpress.com]

What 2010 will bring newspapers: Bad revenue news, bad bankruptcy ...

Stuff fantasies are made of - Part 3

2010-01-09T09:40:00.000+02:00

You know what I am thinking? I am thinking: OK this was supposed to be one measly little post. How the heck did it blow up to a 3 part series?! “Concise” I ain’t.

Pardon the grump-puss routine.

We got some bad news today. Well I got some alarming sounding news after I woke up and before I was half way into the phone convo trying to assess the damage (which was really minimal), I got hit with the second actual bad news. All this before I was fully awake. I knew I should have stayed in bed today.

Monkey’s ass I say.

*sigh*

Oh well. What is one to do? Stuff happens. You gotta work around it. I don’t WANT to work around it. But I don’t really have a choice do I? No I don’t. I’ll figure it out. It could be worse.

BUT, it’s the weekend and I won’t face or deal with reality until Monday.

Now back to our normally scheduled programming…

Luke is the star of most of my fantasies. (Some say unimaginatively so but *I* prefer thinking that I am infatuated!) I tell ya, this makes it hard to masturbate when I’m mad at him. I am serious! Call me crazy but when I am mad at him I don’t want to imagine him pulling my hair, tanning my hide and fucking my ass. *laughing* Yes I know how ridiculous that sounds.

I do imagine other “figures” when I fantasize but these characters are usually faceless and vague… you know, place holders. The only “celebrity” I’ve ever masturbated to is K.D. Lang. I’ve always wondered if she ever sings between her lover’s thighs. *drool*

Anyhow.

If I fall in love with a new fantasy I write it down erotica style and send it to Luke. I usually have 2 or 3 stories in progress going. I am pretty decent at short stories but longer stories require more attention than I am always willing to give… so I just write sections and string them together later. I write non-erotica too but not nearly as much.

Speaking of erotica, I love me some Patrick Califia. I wish he’d write more. He writes amazing erotica. Have you read his stuff? Queer bdsm erotica at it’s very best. Go read one of his books. As a matter of fact go buy one.

But I digress (I see you rolling your eyes!) Most of the time Luke just reads them as entertainment but once in a while, he decides to act on one. Of course he always changes them to suit his own taste which I actually like because while it has elements of my fantasy, I don’t quite know what will happen next. When we both get off on something, it’s just amazing.

BUT the thing about not dating your clone is that regardless of how similar minded you are about sex, you still don’t have an identical fantasy profile. So there has to be compromises. Of course, in a d/s relationship the scales tend to tip towards the top.

For example, I like playing with knives but I don’t necessarily get off on cutting my own damn self. He has to do it to me for it to be hot. He, however, doesn’t like it nearly as much as I do. I’ve already talked about how he feels about threesomes or group sex which is another one of my big turn ons.

And then comes the part about equipment. Sometimes, you just HAVE to have the right equipment. For example, I’d spontaneously orgasm from the mere idea of being locked in a cage and fucked through the bars. I tell you after we put together the big dog crate for our Dane, I was wet for a week. But we don’t have a human cage or really any space for one. Or complete sensory depravation… a decent blindfold and earphones with relatively loud music works pretty well but not as well as a decent hood designed for the job. But that’s way too expensive. Same goes for a good corset. I am not talking about the mass designed junk but a custom made one. Actually I think of being corseted as a cross between bondage and sensory deprivation.

The thing about sensory deprivation and bondage, although they are a heck of a lot less dramatic than being flogged or cut or set on fire… is that they have a deeper degree of mental submission. By that I mean, when I am enduring pain, I have something to do. I am in there, fighting and submitting to the pain. I am patting myself on the back for taking it with grace… or feeling giddy at how he’s reduced me to a puddle. But in sensory deprivation or prolonged bondage, I am not “doing” anything. Even if he is whipping me under bondage, I am not doing as much since I am pretty much stuck there at his mercy, All there is to know is he wants me this way and let what emotions may come wash over me.

It’s so very much more difficult than just submitting to pain. This is much more threatening to one’s identity. You have to, well, willingly give up personal metal/emotional space. Watch yourself become property, utterly controlled. That’s a hell of a lot more difficult and takes a much deeper brand of submission. (only in my opinion) And it’s not something one can do with any old top because it takes much more intricate set up and build up. (once more, I am just speaking for me) And even after I found the right top… it’s not something we can do every day. I come out of a mental submission session much more drained than any other scene, regardless of severity. But this is the domain of MY deep dark fantasies so I am not saying no more. A girl’s gotta have some secrets!

Now in interest of diversity, here are a few of Luke’s favourite fantasies:

-Being sucked off while he is working out – specifically for me to just show up mid workout and service him without a word – can you say narcissistic? *g

-Fucking and torturing me in front of and for an audience – what did I tell ya about the narcissism?

-Me in a wonder woman custom – (I don’t get this one, it’s apparently a guy thing… I can’t imagine wonder woman as a submissive anyway)

-Fisting, always with the fisting… if it’s not golden showers, it’s fisting… I might start needing bigger Kegel weights to keep tight… that or if I ever give birth, it’ll go very smoothly (just kidding, even I am not that delusional)

And finally, I’d like to share the single oddest fantasy I have heard of within consensual kink:

-Fantasy of being devoured… as in eaten… like… as in food. Also known as Vorarephilia.

It produces a problem for me… namely you aren’t around to enjoy it happening caused you’ve been… well slaughtered and stewed. Unless someone cuts off only a piece… but then you probably are in a bit much of physical agony to appreciate it… or maybe not…? Anyway. This would be the point my kink fuse would blow. Yes, I realize I am being a bit literal! That it could very well involve just the role playing for many and I don’t mean those cases… I mean the few cases who literally want to be dinner… you think the fantasy extends to how they are prepared? Like is there a, ooooh marinate me in a wine sauce type thing? And we in the kink community like to say we respect everyone’s kink. To each their own, right? Hard to be as understanding here though… even though nobody is getting hurt unwillingly.

But you gotta keep in mind… there are all shades of rainbow out there.

***Thank you for your attention. This ends this section of ramblings on the subject of fantasies. Please stay tuned for future silly-erotic compositions. Dirty Ingenue out***

[Via http://dirtyingenue.wordpress.com]

Dave Barry's Blog: NAKEDNESS IN THE NEWS

My Oprah Aha! Moment

2010-01-09T01:37:00.000+02:00

I had one of Oprah’s Aha! Moments. You know the moment I’m talking about. It’s when a light bulb goes off in your head and suddenly some issue you’d been struggling with becomes crystal clear.

My Aha! Moment came after I finished writing my January 5th 2010 blog. I ended the blog with these words, “Paul left me, dear reader, because he never loved me. And that’s the truth.”

If I were a famous writer I would talk about my Aha! Moment in “O, The Oprah Magazine”. But since I’m an unknown writer I have to talk about my Aha! Moment in my blog, “A Bad Marriage Is Fattening.”

But before I talk about my own Aha! Moment, I want to digress and talk about my relationship with The Queen of Talk – Oprah Winfrey. Perhaps the most influential woman to ever grace our planet.

Now we all know Oprah has a very big life and knows many famous and influential people. Why Oprah has even shared the cover of “O, The Oprah Magazine” with the First Lady of The United States, Michelle Obama. And in December 2009 Oprah shared the cover of “O, The Oprah Magazine” with Ellen Degeneres.

What most people don’t know is that I’m a personal friend of Oprah’s. Gayle King is not Oprah’s only best friend. I’m Oprah’s other best friend. Before you think I’m delusional let me tell you that I have solid proof that I’m Oprah’s other best friend.

I have at this very moment 1,492 unread emails from Oprah. That’s right. You’ve heard me right. Oprah has been filling my email box with emails and they’re all addressed to me personally.

But honestly, who has time for all of Oprah’s emails? Certainly not me. I might have a small life, but even my small life can’t handle all of Oprah’s voluminous emails. Morning, noon and night she incessantly emails me and with no thought, whatsoever, as to what hour of the day it is. For example, I’ll get an email at 3:13 in the morning from who else but Oprah. A loud chime will go off at my computer, abruptly awakening me from my sleep. I’m dreaming of having sex with a man who loves what he calls, “my Renoir body.” Does Oprah care that I haven’t had sex in twenty years and now I’m at least having it in my dreams? No. All Oprah cares about is that I get her email. And what’s so important that Oprah has to pull me out of my dream just when I’m about to climax? Why — she wants me to know who’s going to be on her show the following Monday.

I never reply to Oprah’s emails because I don’t want to encourage her. It’s enough already. I couldn’t possibly read everything that Oprah sends to me in an email. It would absorb my entire day, and I’ve got a blog to get out. Of course, it’s a small blog about how my bad marriage got me fat, how I’ve shed my husband, and now how I want to shed my weight in 2010.

I’ve tried to be gracious and not unsubscribe to Oprah’s website because I don’t want to hurt her feelings. And I don’t want her emailing me asking me why I unsubscribed, because even people with very big lives like Oprah sometimes get lonely in the middle of the night and need a friend they can email to.

And truthfully, the last thing I would ever want to do is to have a confrontation with Oprah. Remember what she did to James Frey, who wrote “A Million Little Pieces” when she heard rumors that he had fabricated large parts of his memoir? Oprah invited him back on her show for a second time to directly confront him about whether the accusations against the book were true. Believe me, you don’t want the powerful Ms. Oprah Winfrey confronting you on her show.

“Joan, why did you unsubscribe to me? Even though I have a very big life, sometimes I get lonely in the middle of the night and I need a good friend I can email to. I thought you were that friend.” Oprah’s eyes fill up with tears.

Believe me, you don’t want to be the one who’s responsible for Oprah’s tears.

“I understand, Oprah, and I am your good friend, but it was humanly impossible for me to keep up with all your emails.”

“I’m very hurt about this, Joan. Gayle manages to read all my emails. I can’t understand why you cannot.”

“I’m really sorry, Oprah. I really am.”

“And you’ll be more sorry when your book, “A Bad Marriage Is Fattening”, comes out and I don’t invite you to be a guest author on my show. An appearance on my show would ensure that your book would become an instant bestseller.”

“Oprah, you do have a point and I’m definitely having one of your Aha! Moments. I’m going to re-subscribe to your website immediately.”

“I’m so happy that you‘ve decided to change your mind and re-subscribe. And you will read all of my emails that I send to you, won’t you, Joan?”

“Each and everyone of them. I promise.”

“You’re not just saying that because you want to be on my show when your book comes out?”

“Oprah, would I lie to you? You’re my best friend.”

Dear reader, today’s blog was supposed to be my Aha! Moment about my ex husband, Paul, never loving me, but that will have to wait.

Right now I have 1,492 emails to read. And she’s sending me more.

[Via http://abadmarriageisfattening.wordpress.com]

Bookninja » Blog Archive » News tids

Indeed quite lovely

2010-01-07T09:40:00.000+02:00

I watched this rather fascinating documentary on the French channel in my cable package called Le Crazy s’enflamme about the Parisian cabaret Le Crazy Horse. It featured the process of putting together one of their artsy nudey shows, from the auditions for new dancers to the finished product. The rigors these girls went through were amazing, from the relentless rehearsals to the necessary sacrifice of personal relationships. It made me wonder why these women dedicated themselves to their dancing to the detriment of all else, almost the way nuns marry Jesus. Why go through all of this just to become a disposable piece of unrecognizable ass to be discarded at the first signs of aging?

There was a bit of background on the cabaret, how it came about during France mid 20th century explosion of love for all things American. The founder was Alain Bernardin, and he was of course banging a great number of his dancers. He looked a bit like the French Hugh Hefner. If there is a single visual that thoroughly embodies the patriarchy, it would be a jolly-faced older man enjoying a parade of gorgeous young duplicate women, an undifferentiated mass of nubile female flesh without end. The individual female can’t stay long in the spotlight; the moment a laugh line or ass dimple shows up on her, she disappears. So why would an individual female subject herself to this treatment?

In the case of Hugh Hefner’s mansion show ponies, the answers present themselves easily: a shot at fame, a comfortable life, money. For the girls at the Crazy Horse the motivation is less obvious. They do not get paid much (following one home, we got to see her modest apartment in the banlieue), and they will not be famous. The whole point of the show is the multitude of perfect identical bodies, these girls do not get individual faces. Is it just that they want to be admired? But the audience is not admiring them, it is admiring an idea.

Perhaps it is the idea, then, that draws them. The mythos of the place, the artistry of the shows, what it means to be one of the bodies that form The Body. At some point in their formative years they saw in the cabaret a picture they wanted to be in, like a boy who sees a line of upright men in tidy uniforms and wants to be in the army when he grows up. The singular desire to embody an idea drives them through the strain of their daily grind. Certainly, they are artists. But the simile I used two sentences ago highlights the fluidity of what the word “artist” means–are soldiers, too, artists?

Some images, for they are indeed quite lovely:

[Via http://emshapiro.wordpress.com]

Nightly News: Sebastian Stan Stars Opposite Ashley Greene ...

GD Flu

2010-01-07T01:53:00.000+02:00

I’m super pissed off and high on cold meds because I’m sicker than I’ve been since I was like 8 years old. It’s all my Mom’s fault too. Firstly because she gave birth to me so everything that happens to me is her fault because I’m alive, but also because she was coughing and wiping her dirty flu hands all over the house for a week trying to infect the rest of us. Obviously she succeeded.

Another reason I probably got sick is because of stress. Although my life probably sounds to the rest of you like it’s made of angel songs and chocolate rainbows, it’s really not. In fact it’s a goddamn mess most of the time, full of stupid assholes like my dog who wants to cuddle me 24/7 even when I have a fever. STOP WITH THE KISSES, JERK. I’M SICK.

School started this week which is always good for a laugh. I start at 7am, which means I’ll absorb roughly .0003% of the material I hear in lecture this quarter. I’m okay with that since most of lecture is the professor secretly wishing something interesting would happen and that they weren’t at a community college so they just read from the fucking textbook for 2 hours. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I raised my hand and said “Excuse me, if you’d like to take a break since you’re so obviously done trying at life I can just come up and do that for you. This will obviously be a surprise to you based on the way you speak to the class, but I too can read passages from the $400 book we’re all required to have. In fact, you don’t even need to come to class tomorrow.”

The other thing that sucks is that relationships always seem to go backwards and wrong over the holidays. It seems like everyone just goes crazy, or gets lonely, or drinks too much and the phone calls and decisions made get out of fucking control. I swear. One guy I dated lost his shit and started asking me for naked pictures, another one professed his undying love, and another one sort of professed his undying love in the guise of telling me I’m really pretty worthless.

The guy I most recently dated caused some drama with my sisters because I mentioned that I still talk to him/hang out with him from time to time and they lost their shit. That sucked, but at the same time they hate everyone I’ve ever even considered dating ever so I took it with a grain of salt. I’m not defending any of my boyfriends, but I haven’t been murdered yet so there’s that. Mostly they just think I’m turning into a towny loser/or already am so I think things will get better once I move out of this town. Either that or it will get worse, those are usually the two options with things like life.

So this guy that I dated for not very long was really pretty nice to me until shit went bad. Then it went really, really bad. I’ve realized over the past couple of weeks that probably the main problem with the entire situation was that he pretty much thought I was a piece of shit and I was too drunk to realize it. That’s a blunt way to put it I spose, but its true. It always made me wonder when he never cared what I did or who I did it with, never got jealous, never worried about how I felt about him, etc. The options are a)he was dating other people or some variation of that b)it literally never crossed his mind that anyone would ever waste their time with me, or c)both.

I’m picking c because here are some things he actually said to me: “You’re not anything to brag about.” “You and your ex were just a couple of fucking losers pretending you were important.” And he spent a lot of time talking about how gorgeous his exes anatomy was (the second guy I dated who has done this, which should have been a warning sign). The only thing he ever said he liked best about me specifically were my eyebrows. Not to say he never complimented me, but for whatever his standards were I obviously didn’t measure up. And that sucks. I’m not saying I’m the hottest person alive, or even the nicest, but it would have been cool to look back and at least know I was memorable. Long story short, it’s always a blow to the ego when you date someone who laughs off the idea of anyone else wanting to date you (other than your crazy exes) and finds you physically mediocre in every way.

My solution? HUGE ASS IMPLANTS. Try and forget THESE, fuckers! Whooooo!!!!!

[Via http://sdoodle.wordpress.com]

AMERICAblog News: "I don't know": Michael Steele on whether GOP is ...

The Herbivore's Dilemma

2010-01-05T09:14:00.000+02:00

Japan panics about the rise of “grass-eating men,” who shun sex, don’t spend money, and like taking walks.

Ryoma Igarashi likes going for long drives through the mountains, taking photographs of Buddhist temples and exploring old neighborhoods. He’s just taken up gardening, growing radishes in a planter in his apartment. Until recently, Igarashi, a 27-year-old Japanese television presenter, would have been considered effeminate, even gay. Japanese men have long been expected to live like characters on Mad Men, chasing secretaries, drinking with the boys, and splurging on watches, golf, and new cars.

Today, Igarashi has a new identity (and plenty of company among young Japanese men) as one of the soushoku danshi—literally translated, “grass-eating boys.” Named for their lack of interest in sex and their preference for quieter, less competitive lives, Japan’s “herbivores” are provoking a national debate about how the country’s economic stagnation since the early 1990s has altered men’s behavior.

Newspapers, magazines, and television shows are newly fixated on the herbivores. “Have men gotten weaker?” was one theme of a recent TV talk show. “Herbivores Aren’t So Bad” is the title of a regular column on the Japanese Web site NB Online.

In this age of bromance and metrosexuals, why all the fuss? The short answer is that grass-eating men are alarming because they are the nexus between two of the biggest challenges facing Japanese society: the declining birth rate and anemic consumption. Herbivores represent an unspoken rebellion against many of the masculine, materialist values associated with Japan’s 1980s bubble economy. Media Shakers, a consulting company that is a subsidiary of Dentsu, the country’s largest advertising agency, estimates that 60 percent of men in their early 20s and at least 42 percent of men aged 23 to 34 consider themselves grass-eating men. Partner Agent, a Japanese dating agency, found in a survey that 61 percent of unmarried men in their 30s identified themselves as herbivores. Of the 1,000 single men in their 20s and 30s polled by Lifenet, a Japanese life-insurance company, 75 percent described themselves as grass-eating men.

Japanese companies are worried that herbivorous boys aren’t the status-conscious consumers their parents once were. They love to putter around the house. According to Media Shakers’ research, they are more likely to want to spend time by themselves or with close friends, more likely to shop for things to decorate their homes, and more likely to buy little luxuries than big-ticket items. They prefer vacationing in Japan to venturing abroad. They’re often close to their mothers and have female friends, but they’re in no rush to get married themselves, according to Maki Fukasawa, the Japanese editor and columnist who coined the term in NB Online in 2006.

Grass-eating boys’ commitment phobia is not the only thing that’s worrying Japanese women. Unlike earlier generations of Japanese men, they prefer not to make the first move, they like to split the bill, and they’re not particularly motivated by sex. “I spent the night at one guy’s house, and nothing happened—we just went to sleep!” moaned one incredulous woman on a TV program devoted to herbivores. “It’s like something’s missing with them,” said Yoko Yatsu, a 34-year-old housewife, in an interview. “If they were more normal, they’d be more interested in women. They’d at least want to talk to women.”

Shigeru Sakai of Media Shakers suggests that grass-eating men don’t pursue women because they are bad at expressing themselves. He attributes their poor communication skills to the fact that many grew up without siblings in households where both parents worked. “Because they had TVs, stereos and game consoles in their bedrooms, it became more common for them to shut themselves in their rooms when they got home and communicate less with their families, which left them with poor communication skills,” he wrote in an e-mail. (Japan has rarely needed its men to have sex as much as it does now. Low birth rates, combined with a lack of immigration, have caused the country’s population to shrink every year since 2005.)

It may be that Japan’s efforts to make the workplace more egalitarian planted the seeds for the grass-eating boys, says Fukasawa. In the wake of Japan’s 1985 Equal Employment Opportunity Law, women assumed greater responsibility at work, and the balance of power between the sexes began to shift. Though there are still significant barriers to career advancement for women, a new breed of female executive who could party almost as hard as her male colleagues emerged. Office lechery, which had been socially acceptable, became stigmatized as seku hara, or sexual harassment.

But it was the bursting of Japan’s bubble in the early 1990s, coupled with this shift in the social landscape, that made the old model of Japanese manhood unsustainable. Before the bubble collapsed, Japanese companies offered jobs for life. Salarymen who knew exactly where their next paycheck was coming from were more confident buying a Tiffany necklace or an expensive French dinner for their girlfriend. Now, nearly 40 percent of Japanese work in nonstaff positions with much less job security.

“When the economy was good, Japanese men had only one lifestyle choice: They joined a company after they graduated from college, got married, bought a car, and regularly replaced it with a new one,” says Fukasawa. “Men today simply can’t live that stereotypical ‘happy’ life.”

Yoto Hosho, a 22-year-old college dropout who considers himself and most of his friends herbivores, believes the term describes a diverse group of men who have no desire to live up to traditional social expectations in their relationships with women, their jobs, or anything else. “We don’t care at all what people think about how we live,” he says.

Many of Hosho’s friends spend so much time playing computer games that they prefer the company of cyber women to the real thing. And the Internet, he says, has helped make alternative lifestyles more acceptable. Hosho believes that the lines between men and women in his generation have blurred. He points to the popularity of “boys love,” a genre of manga and novels written for women about romantic relationships between men that has spawned its own line of videos, computer games, magazines, and cafes where women dress as men.

Fukasawa contends that while some grass-eating men may be gay, many are not. Nor are they metrosexuals. Rather, their behavior reflects a rejection of both the traditional Japanese definition of masculinity and what she calls the West’s “commercialization” of relationships, under which men needed to be macho and purchase products to win a woman’s affection. Some Western concepts, like going to dinner parties as a couple, never fit easily into Japanese culture, she says. Others never even made it into the language—the term “ladies first,” for instance, is usually said in English in Japan. During Japan’s bubble economy, “Japanese people had to live according to both Western standards and Japanese standards,” says Fukasawa. “That trend has run its course.”

Japanese women are not taking the herbivores’ indifference lightly. In response to the herbivorous boys’ tepidity, “carnivorous girls” are taking matters into their own hands, pursuing men more aggressively. Also known as “hunters,” these women could be seen as Japan’s version of America’s cougars.

While many Japanese women might disagree, Fukasawa sees grass-eating boys as a positive development for Japanese society. She notes that before World War II, herbivores were more common: Novelists such as Osamu Dazai and Soseki Natsume would have been considered grass-eating boys. But in the postwar economic boom, men became increasingly macho, increasingly hungry for products to mark their personal economic progress. Young Japanese men today are choosing to have less to prove.

bron: www.slate.com [15-07-2009]

[Via http://wocview.wordpress.com]

The 40 Most Obnoxious Quotes Of 2009 | Right Wing News

Virgin at the Swingers Club II

2010-01-05T01:51:00.000+02:00

This is a poorly writen “review” but my time has been spent elsewhere… Mostly preparing for the Hedo trip. I’ll try to do better next time. Hope you enjoy anyway!

Texas Players Club has an atmosphere that is encouraging and seemingly safe, I was somewhat surprised. It looks much different than the website and the photos I’ve seen, but not at all disappointing. A few stripper poles and dance cages make up for the loss of glam I expected. Our Reserved table was at an elevated level equal to the bar, which served no alcohol but the lady bartender was serving up her own style of mind alterations and the red bull on tap was keeping me alert.

The club was scarce with prospects and I was freezing without any offer to be warmed up! Not that I would entertain such an offer, but I certainly would be entertained by the offer in bed later! There was maybe 20 people in the club which holds a few hundred. I froze like a LA popsicle and was told that the heater would be fixed for our presentation tomorrow night. We both (Gary and I) came from out of town to promote DPT’s tour at Desire resorts this July. My real agenda was to be de-virginized at this “Lifestyle Club.” Little did I know, all the fun was to be held tomorrow at the clubs’ annual Christmas Party, with at least a hundred other people to meet.

Mentioning that this was my first time at a Swingers Club, I was quickly told, “Lifestyle Club”(with the correction in his voice intended to help me, not reduce me) as if I were holding a sign that read, “This is my first time…take advantage of me!“ Being my only adventure thus far in all my 27 years of life to any place promoting such freedom, experience and encouraging sexual liberation, I was taking it in like a “down-home” boy at his first NASCAR race. I started introducing myself, with my thigh highs and garter showing as an invitation for some better conversation than small talk. My short, strapless black satin Christmas dress was accompanied by big blond curls, lip gloss and always friendly yet impish smile.

Taking it all in I saw that this ‘members only’ venue ranged from young to old, thin to large, classic beauties to raw treaded hustlers. From blue to white collar Gents and their decor of women. The similarities were in their civility… but not much more than that. It was almost reminiscent of Cheers, “Where everyone knows your name” and the humility of it all is shared and kept in tact by the very attractive managers, husband and wife team. Her smile could certainly light up any dark place, and her chosen green Santa’s helper outfit made her look like she just walked out of a Playboy magazine. He has an aire of confidence and strength which I must say left me a little wet between my legs and blushed color on my cheeks. I felt more respect from this group of people than that of my local LA posh restraunt bars. The owners are absolutely wonderful and make everyone feel at home in their club, which they have taken a lot of effort and pride in fixing up. I enjoyed my conversation with them in which I learned that they are soon to open their second club. I can’t wait to visit it.

Surrounding the interior walls were artistic photographs showing off the female members in such a way that I was compelled to see each one and try to find them in the crowd, like “Where‘s Waldo“ but for sex fiends. I followed the pictures to the “green room” which is the home of the Symbian. A sex toy with a motor that could mow the most incredible Texas lawns and turn the most stable debutante woman into a sex crazed nympho. Maybe my next trip I’ll have more courage than inhibitions to try it out myself. I continued down the long hall way and jokingly decided they should re-name this passage “Hallmark” as it would be more fitting. The walls were “hall marked” from either the excitement walking into this oasis, or from the exhaustion stumbling out of it.

I came home and drew a stick figure drawing of the orgy I witnessed at the end of the hall. It was the participants were leftovers all thrown in a cooking pot stewing something barely edible… unless you were starving desperate for survival. Excluding the very hot couple at the front of the first bed who started the orgy. Across the four beds was the smorgasborg (I described and later sketched) and ended with an oriental couple watching in bath towels. I awaited the finale, but was fiercely escorted out by the volunteer of the division… stoked bear witness of this recondite ambiance. Never once was I repulsed or left feeling undignified. There is still hope for next time though! My overall judgment is in the favor of The Players Club, “where everyone knows your name, but doesn’t tell.” I can’t wait for Texas Players Club. Hedonism II in Jamaica!

[Via http://romanticvulgarity.wordpress.com]

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