I know Savage doesn't think Christmas is sexy, but what about this sucker:
Eh? ANYONE? (See also the Blue 2nd skin, paired with a blue afro wig.)
This video demonstration of an artificial hymen...
For potential hymen purchasers worried about the mechanics of operating a hymen replacement, the site offers a helpful step-by-step guide. “Insert the Artificial Hymen into your vagina carefully. It will expand a little and make you feel tight. When your lover penetrates, it will ooze out a liquid that appears like blood, not too much but just the right amount. Add in a few moans and groans and you will pass through undetectable!”
...is the creepiest, saddest, and most depressing thing I've seen on the Internet in weeks. Jeremy Wilson at The Kernel unpacks the creepiness:
If ever there were a reason to be horrified at the tentacles of the historic patriarchal oppression of women’s stubborn hold on modern day life, this is it. In a world where we’re constantly being told of technology’s potential to drive positive social change, it’s galling to see it being used to appease the infantile fantasies of backwards cultures. Depressing, really.
But... wouldn't an artificial hymen that works in the palm of your hand also work in your someone's ass? Anyone's ass? Seems to me that a girl could subvert the shit out of the patriarchy by sticking one of these in her boyfriend's ass and pegging the shit—and just the right amount of a liquid that appears to be blood—right out of him. And any gay men out there hymen envy could order a few. And, hey, a couple—gay or straight—could order a crate and spend a long, sensuous evening busting all sorts of hymens. Pegging hymens! Blowjob hymens! Handjob hymens! Buttsecks hymens! Tittyfucking hymens! Wet-willy hymens! The patriarchy-subverting possibilities are endless!
Yes they are. (Though some are just young and busted, and others look awfully come-hither for a mug shot.)
Via the nonstop awesome machine that is Seattlish.
And sticking your dick in a flacid Santa hat won't make Christmas sexy. Please make a note of it.
Sorry to bore you sloggers with a personal question (this will be especially boring to out-of-towners; please just skip this!), but my ten-year-old mattress with a Christopher's-body-shaped valley down the center of it is really starting to cramp my style, and by "style" I mean lovemaking. I mean sleeping! Literally cramping my sleeping. It is past time for it to go to the great mattress liquidator in the sky, but I'm kind of intimidated by the prospect of replacing it. Also, I hate shopping. When I bought it, 10 years ago, I first went to downtown's Sleep Country USA (why buy a mattress anywhere else? Ding!), but all the mattresses there all seemed to start at $1,400, and I wasn't blown away by the customer service, and then I went to Macy's, where the customer service wasn't any better (they couldn't tell me the difference between what's inside one mattress and what's inside another), but at least at Macy's I found one that I liked well enough and could be delivered to my house for a total of under $1,000.
We don't have Questionland knocking around anymore, and Yelp is bullshit, but this is a question that needs to be crowd-sourced: Where should I go to buy a high-quality mattress at a not-super-high price? I mean higher quality than Ikea but not $1,400. I've been saving my pennies and I have up to $1,000 to spend including delivery. I'm looking for a full-size mattress, maybe a queen (I need to measure the space). I would love a mattress that I can flip over (just to balance out the Christopher-shaped-ness that will inevitably happen) but Goldy says mattresses you can flip over are a thing of the past. Even the one I have I can't flip over, which is part of why I've always hated it. People on Yelp seem to be losing their shit for Kyle up at Mattress Depot ("Kyle is THE BOMB")—but, again, I don't trust Yelp. I trust Sloggers more than I trust Yelpers.
Help me out!
Just as not safe for work as it sounds.
Oliver could've grown up to cure cancer or been the next Mozart. But you couldn't stop not have unprotected sex and so Oliver will never go to medical school or a write a symphony. You have the power to bring Oliver into this world. All you have to do is stop not having unprotected sex.
Oh, GAWWWWWD, Mom!
Breaking news from the department of unprotected sex: Gonorrhea infections in Washington are up by more than one-third this year, causing gonorrhea outbreaks in several counties. "There have been 3,137 cases through September 2013 compared to 2,350 during the same time in 2012," reports the state health department. That’s a 34 percent increase, making it the second most common (dare I say popular?) sexually transmitted disease in Washington after chlamydia.
Eeeesh. To refresh all your memories, gonorrhea—colloquially known as the clap—is spread through unprotected sex with an infected partner, and is often asymptomatic, which is especially troubling because if untreated, it can lead to pelvic inflammatory disease, infertility, and an increased likelihood of HIV transmission. When symptoms are present, they often include painful urination and discharge.
More from a state health department press release:
Rates have been going up steadily since 2010. Department of Health experts haven’t been able to attribute a specific cause to the uptick. The jump has occurred among men and women in most age groups, but young adults remain the most affected. Rural and urban counties across Eastern and Western Washington have reported a climb in cases. However, several counties have seen more dramatic upswings, including Spokane, Yakima, Thurston, Kitsap and Benton counties, which are at outbreak levels.
Despite that ominous talk of outbreaks, the department of health notes that "Washington rates are still well below the national average."
Still, for the love of your untainted junk, wear condoms and get tested regularly. Or, you know, practice "mutual monogamy and abstinence," as the state health department also helpfully suggests.
The number of single people [in Japan] has reached a record high. A survey in 2011 found that 61% of unmarried men and 49% of women aged 18-34 were not in any kind of romantic relationship, a rise of almost 10% from five years earlier. Another study found that a third of people under 30 had never dated at all. (There are no figures for same-sex relationships.) Although there has long been a pragmatic separation of love and sex in Japan—a country mostly free of religious morals—sex fares no better. A survey earlier this year by the Japan Family Planning Association (JFPA) found that 45% of women aged 16-24 "were not interested in or despised sexual contact." More than a quarter of men felt the same way.
Author, evolutionary theorist, recovering academic, fearless & peerless sex writer, and regular "Savage Love" guest expert Jesse Bering reads from and discusses his new book—Perv: The Sexual Deviant In All of Us—tonight at Town Hall.
Perversions are more common than we think, says science provocateur Jesse Bering; in fact, we all are sexual deviants on one level or another. OK; we might not be the woman who falls madly in love with the Eiffel Tower or the young man addicted to seductive sneezes—but what if we all could move beyond our judgments and attitudes toward “deviant” sex? What if we rose above our fears and revulsions and accepted our true natures? Bering, an evolutionary psychologist and author of Perv, pulls back the curtains on the history of perversions, the biological reasons behind our distaste for unusual sexual proclivities, and the latest research on desires to humanize deviants—all while asking some very provocative questions about the nature of hypocrisy, prejudice, and when sexual desire can lead to harm.
Doors at 6:30, show at 7:30. Not to be missed. More info here.
Sarah Galvin undertook a highly scientific test of the Seattle Public Library's public porn viewing policies over at VICE.
I live in Seattle, and this past January, a local mother named Julia Howe was at the Lake City library with her 10-year-old daughter when they came across a man publicly viewing hard-core porn. When Howe asked a librarian to move him to a more discreet location, the librarian refused. Howe ended up taking her complaint to local radio stations and newspapers, and started a small tempest around the issue, with pissed-off parents on one side and librarians on the other. The librarians stuck to their guns, and now any of us can walk into the computer room and view some hot, raw, constitutionally protected porno.
Galvin tested this theory by watching porn at the Central Branch downtown. I very much recommend you read the whole thing.
One of my fellow panelists—Phillip Hodson—defends Sex Box in a piece for the Guardian.
This is the first thing so far (other than scarves) that makes me look forward to this dark winter:
Have any of you not had the joy of watching Isbella Rossellini's Green Porno series of paper-cutout animal sex documentary shorts? It is among the best treasures you could ever feed your eyeballs. You can watch many of the fish ones here. I put bee sex after the jump for you ("It would get stuck in her vagina like a cork in a bottle...").
If you have watched Green Porno and love it like you should, tickets and further description are here.
From a story about kink trends around the world in this month's issue of Cosmo... and the editors of Cosmo wouldn't lead us astray on the subject of sex, right?
It would be easier for me to dismiss this woman as a troll if I didn't get so many letters just like hers: "I caught the spouse I've neglected sexually for years masturbating! Is he a sex addict? I feel cheated on!" The advice columnist at the Irish Times lets her have it... but goes on to suggest that maybe this batshit woman can salvage something of a sex life with her long-suffering, stealth-jacking husband. Ha ha. Not going to happen. (And here's hoping that poor woman's husband is enjoying his newfound freedom to masturbate whenever he wants. Jump up on and down on the bed, dude, blow your loads on the headboard, get a girlfriend. You're free!)
...in the hope that there are some ladies with fetishes who read Slog and would be willing to call bullshit on this girl's prof in the comments thread:
I am a 20-year-old lesbian woman living in a large east coast city. I am in a human sexuality class and my teacher says that using the strictest definition of fetish—DSM definition—only men can have fetishes. He also says in general male sexuality is much more rigid than female sexuality. I agree with that as a general statement but I just don't think he can make a statement like that that NO WOMEN EVER have fetishes. Help me prove my professor wrong.
Setting the DSM aside for a second—and I'm pretty sure her prof is wrong about that—are there any ladies with fetishes out there who care to weigh in?
In the early '90s, what is now the bustling Pike/Pine corridor was a rundown stretch of nothing much, and sex toys were things you found primarily in dank windowless rooms hawking "marital aids." Twenty years later, things look different, thanks in part to Claire Cavanah and Rachel Venning, two Seattle women who followed the inspiration of San Francisco's woman-powered sex emporium Good Vibrations and their own sex-positive feminism to create Babeland, Seattle's legendary sex-toy boutique which is today celebrating its 20th anniversary.
Full disclosure: Cavanah and Venning are old friends of mine, and when they first told me of their plan to open a woman-centered sex toy shop west of Broadway on Pike—Toys in Babeland was the name then—I wished them all the luck in the world while wondering about the iffy, distant locale and potential turnover in sex toys. (How many sex toys did even the most adventurous people need/wear out? Were these toys to be made of quickly-dissolving sugar?) Of course, Babeland soon became a bicoastal powerhouse as beloved for its community and concepts as its life-enhancing products, Pike is now all condos and destination revellers, and I am reminded again of why I am not a businessman.
Congratulations, Claire and Rachel! (Babeland's 20th anniversary party is tonight, but it is entirely sold out. Wait list info here.)
Only 13 more days to finishing HUMP-ing! The deadline to enter The Stranger's Annual Porn Film Festival is Monday, September 30th at 3 pm. All the information you need is right here at thestranger.com/hump (including entry and release forms, rules, and this year's extra credit items.)
Win cash! LOTS OF COLD HARD CASH! A $5,000 Grand Prize!
Best Humor: $1,000 First Prize, $250 First Runner-Up
Best Sex: $1,000 First Prize, $250 First Runner-Up
Best Kink: $1,000 First Prize, $250 First Runner-Up
Best in Show: $5,000 Grand Prize
In the hierarchy of internet content, the 20th-anniversary commemoration ranks somewhere between the deep-thinking oral history (see GQ's treatment of Goodfellas and Freaks and Geeks) and a Buzzfeed slide show of "23 Reasons Why [X] Rules!" Sure, such anniversary-based commemorations land with a certain expedience—and a good risk of superficial nostalgia trumping inspired reflection—but done properly, they can cover the sort of territory typically traversed only by obituarists, with none of the depressing death baggage. (Sometimes I feel guilty about how not-sad I will feel about the passing of my beloved Bob Dylan—because what else is going to make America's best writers sit down and summarize their deepest feelings about Bob Dylan?)
Ultimately, the value of such commemorations comes down to one's level of interest in the work being celebrated, and for me, 2013 has brought the 20th anniversaries of three endlessly commemorable works, each made by a female artist determined to say something new and profound about the oldest story in the book: the life-bestowing, life-enhancing, and occasionally life-ruining entanglements of dicks and pussies.
Mister Cee is a legendary and beloved DJ at NYC's powerhouse hiphop station Hot 97. In recent years, he's been arrested for soliciting prostitutes, and this week, a new video surfaced, allegedly capturing audio of Cee soliciting a transgender sex worker.
In response, Mister Cee resigned his post at Hot 97 and explained himself in an on-air interview. This interview is posted on Line Out and is amazing. "Can we walk with you through this?" asks DJ Ebro, all but begging Cee to rescind his resignation. It's a tough, squirmy, occasionally politically incorrect but ultimately deeply heartening listen.
Continued on Line Out.
A pedophile is outed—and prosecuted—after he purchases some not-quite-kiddie-porn-but-damn-close with his own credit card:
For almost 20 years, I spent virtually every night of my life in the same manner: Sitting in front of my computer and either trawling the Internet for child pornography or looking at the pictures and videos that were already a part of my collection. No matter how many images I found and regardless of how sleep deprived I felt, nothing would stop me from continuing this perverse pursuit. It was my own carelessness that finally got me arrested, when I used my credit card to order some films that had images of naked boys, although none of these movies were of a sexual nature. One police officer later told me he thought I had gotten caught on purpose, because, subliminally, it was the only way I would stop. He was right about the latter, but not the former. No one who is a pedophile wants to get caught and have their horrifying secret revealed to the world.
In fact, there were some nights—but not too many—when I would dare to sit in my chair after my computer was turned off and imagine how it would feel to get arrested. Would I fall to the ground in the fetal position, would I throw up, burst into tears or perhaps even have a heart attack? When that day finally came for me, I did none of those. After the lead detective read me my rights and asked several questions regarding my computer, a strange calm washed over me. I knew my job as a local newspaper editor and my hobby coaching baseball had both come to an end. Yet the overriding thoughts in my head were not of my past, but more of my future. I knew that I was in a unique position to help others understand the bewildering life of a pedophile. I had never asked to be cursed with this sexual attraction, and I had never hurt a child. In fact, I was always a good role model as a coach, and an upstanding citizen throughout my days. It was the nights that were a problem.
Over the months that followed my arrest, my journalistic instincts took over.
Go read the whole thing. In a companion piece, Alice Dreger talks with James Cantor, Ph.D., an international expert on pedophilia and a frequent guest expert in the column and on the "Savage Lovecast," about what we know about pedophilia, what we should do about it, and what we shouldn't do about it:
The New Yorker blog has a post about the demise of the Lusty Lady in San Francisco, the first US strip club to unionize and function as a workers' cooperative:
Some at the club see the demise of the Lusties—as the dancers call themselves—as evidence of how so much of what makes San Francisco progressive, and subversive, is getting pushed out in favor of the sleek and corporate. The nation’s only peep-show union shop, they’ll tell you, was smothered by a man behind what is considered the Walmart of San Francisco’s strip-club scene.
Talk to the landlord, Roger Forbes, and it’s about rent: the club didn’t make it in May, and had to go.
I'm sure the full story is more complicated than any workaday journalist would want to untangle—Lusty Lady SF was connected to Lusty Lady Seattle, but even those two parted company on extraordinarily complicated terms.
More importantly, the New Yorker story doesn't ask one of the most relevant questions: What will happen to that human (?) tongue embedded on that pencil?
(Photo and explanation after the jump.)
Amanda Marcotte writing for Slate:
Things had been good for Wichita, Kansas, anti-choice fanatics in the years since one of their own forcibly closed down the town's sole abortion clinic by shooting its doctor dead in the middle of his church. With Dr. Tiller gone, the anti-choicers didn't have to spend so much time endlessly protesting and obsessing over his clinic, giving them more time for quiet contemplation about how liberals and feminists will destroy civilization with all their genital-touching. But now there's a new clinic in town where Dr. Tiller's used to be, and irate anti-choice groups are petitioning the city to have it shut down.
Their reasoning is that the clinic, the South Wind Women's Center, provokes them into harassing the people going in and out of it, and because they understand that they are super annoying people, they would like the provocation taken away.
Better yet, an intra-fundamentalist controversy has erupted over the question of exactly how provocative the clinic is. One group says that medical workers providing private abortion care are deliberately provoking gun violence and have to be stopped before some hapless responsible gun owner who brings a gun to an abortion clinic ends up in jail because a meanie doctor pushed him to murder. The other groups say that while they fully agree that the clinic is making them harass its workers and patients, it's a step too far to suggest they're pushing anyone to shoot at them.
...and dinner isn't for hours. So now's the time to link to Jesse Bering's #DailyDeviant over at Scientific American:
In a 2009 article published in Sexually Transmitted Infections, the British medical author Vincent Tremayne explains the fetish for prophylatics. Now, not all manifestations are particularly problematic. “For someone with a condom fetish,” Tremayne explains, “this might mean gaining pleasure from [merely] looking at pictures or videos portraying people ingesting or masturbating with used condoms. Others,” however:
… might [actively] search for discarded condoms to masturbate in or to ingest the contents. Some men “condom hunt” in areas where people have public sex, such as car parks or wooded areas. Used condoms are also purchased online.
And that’s where the dangers begin to mount.
An anti-gay Mexican politician is arguing that marriage rights should be limited to couples who are capable of having sex face-to-face:
La diputada local por el Partido Acción Nacional en Puebla, Ana María Jiménez Ortiz, afirmó en un foro realizado en ese estado, la semana pasada, que "sólo debe considerarse como matrimonio aquellas relaciones en las que los integrantes sostienen relaciones sexuales mirándose a la cara", lo cual, según ella, "no ocurre entre las parejas homosexuales."
The local legislator for the National Action Party in Puebla, Ana Maria Jiménez Ortiz, said in a forum held in that state last week that "[you] only should consider as marriage those relationships in which the members have sexual relations looking at the face," which, according to her, "does not occur between homosexual partners."
Watching gay porn might give poor Ana Maria Jiménez Ortiz a heart attack. So maybe Hal Sparks should give her a call, take her out for a drink, and share with her what he learned playing a gay man on teevee...
"Before my role on Queer As Folk I didn't know gay men had sex facing each other. That was a big surprise."
Some bar mitzvah videos can't wait until 11 AM:
Sam is a man now, people! (Via Gawker.)
I love everything about this video that went viral while I was on vacation...
...except the choice to represent anal sex with a banana that's been dipped into a jar of Nutella. Unlike all the other choices—entirely neutral and always sex-positive—the Nutella-smeared banana invokes a common misconception/fear about anal sex: there will be shit. Um, no. If you're doing anal right, if you take the time to prep, if you're regular and if you're empty, there won't be any shit, any santorum, or any Nutella on your banana when you're done.