Quakers and Shakers

I think I would be agitated if I knew my billets-doux were going to be published less than 25 years after my death, but this broad looks so tough, she might be OK with it

I’m beginning to explore a voyeurism fetish.  It started last month with Reborn, the first installment of Susan Sontag’s private diaries, and since then I’ve spent countless hours tracking down the journals, letters and autobiographies of favorite novelists, essayists and artists.  There is something undeniably delightful about drowning oneself in the minutia of another’s daily life, and reading through the journals of authors like Sontag and Plath has been quite reassuring: as far as sex and dating are concerned both women were spending their 19th and 20th years thinking about a lot of the same issues I’m currently ruminating on. 

One particularly interesting find was this December 8 1909 letter from James Joyce to his wife Nora Barnacle Joyce (Ellmann 1975: 185).  Within the context of some of his later letters, it becomes clear that he was writing the letter to help himself and Nora get off during their physical separation. Given this purpose, Joyce does an excellent job of employing diction and syntax to make this writing highly functional smut. Though the descriptive language is at times exquisite, its belletrism never  obscures the point.  Also, I imagine the plethora of short, staccato sentences and lists make this fabulously easy to beat off to.  Compare with some of the shitty-beyond-belief erotic writing over at Literotica to get a better sense of how well-composed this stuff is.

As usual, the kinky stuff is after the jump.

Read more…

Relationships, Sexxx

me and my obsidian handaxe in Rosengarten

Any flintknapper will tell you that transforming a hunk of stone into something that looks like one of the bifaces, blades or points found in the archaeological record is a time consuming and challenging process. Why is it then that the hominins of the Acheulian and Mousterian industries were interested in devoting so much time and energy to crafting highly-symmetrical, homogeneous handaxes when it was much easier to produce flakes or notches/denticulates, which were often acceptable substitutes for handaxes?

Archaeologists Kohn and Mithen (1999) propose that handaxes were so common at Middle Paleolithic sites because they “were products of sexual selection: they were used as reliable indicators of a potential mate’s quality by those of the opposite sex” (Kohn and Mithen 1999: 524).

Though this paper is a prime example of post-processualism gone terribly, gut-wrenchingly wrong, Kohn and Mithen have hit on percussed a rather important point about human sexual selection: we are totally into people who make cool shit. It may seem fairly obvious, but I suspect that explicitly identifying and harnessing the power of craftiness may be a real boon for those attempting to attract mates. Read more…

Relationships flintknapping, handaxes, Mousterian Industry, sexual selection

For a long time Boudica, a warrior who fought against roman soldiers in what is now the UK, has been my favorite post-Lucy, pre-Renaissance woman.  A recent post on Sexoteric has me reconsidering; Byzantine empress/total Lolita, Theodora, is giving Boudica a run for her money. Sixth century historian Procopius dishes on Theodora’s super slutty adventures. Read more…

Sexxx

The Onion: Cosmopolitan Releases 40-Year Compendium: 812,683 Ways To Please Your Man

One might not expect that the magazine that told you to “slip a glazed doughnut around his manhood and nibble it off” or “chill a bunch of marbles in the fridge, toss them on the bed and make him lie on them while you straddle him” has any worthwhile advice about how to get it on. However, long ago, I picked up one of my favorite “tricks” from a Cosmopolitan article.  Since then, all the “bottoms” (both male and female) I’ve shared this tip with agree it’s a great way to get someone off quickly, assert control in the sack or just have fun with sex.

Warning: step by step instructions for super hot intercourse after the jump. Read more…

Sexxx Cosmopolitan

Still looking for that special someone? Free this Saturday from 10:30 am-1:00 pm? Love adipocere, conjoined twins and pickled organs? You might want to think about joining Meet Market Adventures for their singles tour of Philadelphia landmark The Mütter Museum. I know from personal experience that folks who ♥ spending weekends with skeletal material tend to make fabulous lovers.

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Giacomo Casanova 1725-1798

Most of us are familiar with the urban legend that  that the Eskimo language has 37,593,475 words for snow because snow’s a fairly constant feature in the Eskimo landscape.   While I’m pretty sure that tale is bunk, I think the concept it puts forward can be used to explain the plethora of English language words for “womanizing jerk.”  Every time I hear the word “player” I cringe.  There are so many more descriptive ways to talk about that lush who managed to hookup with three of yours friends in a weekend. As an early Christmas present, I’m going to save you time searching through a thesaurus and present three of my favorites here.

Main Entry: lo·thar·io
Pronunciation: \lō-ˈther-ē-ˌō, -ˈthär-\
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural lo·thar·i·os
Usage: often capitalized
Etymology: Lothario, seducer in the play The Fair Penitent (1703) by Nicholas Rowe
Date: 1756
A man whose chief interest is seducing women

Main Entry: Ca·sa·no·va
Pronunciation: \ka-zə-nō-və, ka-sə-\
Function: noun
Etymology: Giacomo Girolamo Casanova
Date: 1852
lover; especially a man who is a promiscuous and unscrupulous lover

Main Entry: Don Juan
Pronunciation: \dän-(h)wän, chiefly British in poetry dän-jü-ən\
Function: noun
Etymology: Spanish
Date: 1679
a captivating man known as a great lover or seducer of women

Shout out to Merriam-Webster for the definitions.  Noah’s always been good to me, even when the Lotharios of the world have me hating on men.

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Getting bored of simply mixing pain and pleasure? Try mixing pain, pleasure and your favorite two-tone design. Violet Blue posted a link to an Instructable about how to create paddles that temporarily “brand” those they smack with a logo or  image.  While the custom paddle simply features the outline of the Apple logo, I imagine one could come up with all sorts of ironic images to “brand” someone with.  Have fun!

Sexxx

Lucy with her son Otto

I had a friend in high school who would routinely explain his decision not to hook up with a girl by saying “Oh, you know, she’s super hot, but I couldn’t screw her; she’s so dim it’d be like screwing a retarded person, and isn’t that illegal?”  Though I was constantly challenging his suggestion that these women were dumb—I knew and respected many of them personally—I never took issue with his underlying assertion that developmentally-abled people should not be getting frisky with those with clinical medical subnormalities.

Apparently, there’s no actual consensus on that one.  Jezebel reports that Lucy Baxter, an English woman, is working hard to get her 21-year-old son with Down Syndrome, Otto, laid. Otto’s an actor who was quoted in a Daily Mail article saying “I’m on a mission to find a girlfriend. My reason is I want to have sex. I’m looking for girlfriends everywhere.” Baxter argues that her son should enjoy the same experiences as other men, and though she says she’d prefer to see him gettin’ hot and heavy with a girlfriend who doesn’t have Down’s, she says she’d also consider sending him to Amsterdam’s Red Light district to get some with a strumpet. Lady, the kid already has Down’s, does he really need genital herpes too?

While I’m curious about what would motivate someone without Down’s Syndrome to screw someone who does have DS, what’s more interesting here is the terrible job Lucy and Otto are doing at marketing Otto’s schlong. Correct me if I’m wrong, but most successful pickup artists don’t have their moms advocating for them. Also, I’d imagine that guys who publicly announce that their reason for wanting a girlfriend is to have sex usually don’t have women banging at their doors.

I’d throw in a nice shout-out to Freud/Oedipus, but Jezebel got to it first

Sexual Health

Just stumbled upon Make Love Not Porn, a website dedicated to exposing the discrepancies between “Porn World” and “Real World.”  While some of their illustrations are cute, the jury is still out on whether the website is really necessary.  I think it’s pretty obvious to anyone who’s had any sort of “real world sex” that physical intimacy is nothing like earning a 10.0 from the judge from Ejacuador that goes on in porn flix.  In some ways, this site is almost as redundant as “Middle Earth VS. The Real World dot com” would be: yea, no shit there aren’t pointy eared Elves running around speaking Quenya, living forever, killing shit with arrows and looking smokin’ hot with blonde extensions in the “real world.”

Yes, sometimes men can be assholes in bed, but in general, I’d say that’s usually a byproduct of overall douchyness, not some naive misconception about the nature of “real sex.”  Maybe porn does color our expectations of what sex should look and sound like, but do we really need a reductionist website to remind us that Debbie Does Dallas is going to be nothing like Syphilitic SAS Sophomore screws Sarcastic SEAS Senior?

Uncategorized porn

Spring Break found me in camping in the Poconos with friends.  One day, we stumbled upon The Magick Cauldron, a Wicca boutique along Rt. 209 in PA. The one room store was manned by a cheery “witch” in sweatpants.  After five minutes of browsing, my friend Julia inquired after spells for inciting love or affection in a potential partner.  The witch directed us to a wall full of tiny ziploc bags with $7.95 price tags stuck on the outside.  She had “Happily Ever After” spells for those looking to improve an already extant union, spells for those looking to attract a special someone into a relationship and “Aprhodite’s Passion” spells designed to fire up one’s love life.  

The Magick Cauldron

We peppered the poor woman with questions about the potency, potential side effects and shelf-life of the spells.  After several minutes of interrogation she revealed that if we really wanted the big guns of spell work on our side we’d need to buy a more powerful and more expensive “binding spell.”  She pointed to us to a small display against the back wall and then cautioned us, “I’d highy advise against using one of those.  If you use a binding love spell, that man will be obsessed with you for the rest of his natural days.  There’ll be no way to get rid of him”. 

After another 10 minutes of obnoxious—possibly condescending—questioning, I decided that though the idea of instantly attracting an obsessed-with-Amber boyfriend was appealing, I didn’t want to blow $19.99 on a ziploc bag of printer paper and magic pebbles.  My cheesy pickup lines have been sufficient for attracting men thus far, and I’m not ready to abandon them yet. Plus, as nerve wracking as the dating process can be, isn’t the uncertainty half the fun?

Those of you who want magical-sparks-of-love without having to cruise frat parties or make an effort to look pretty before Friday night partying will be happy to know that The Magick Cauldron does mail-order! Or, just use this free magical “Spell to Make Someone Dream of You” from EverythingUnderTheMoon.net

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