Last week in sex:
- Recycle your holiday pumpkins into sex toys. Big, orange, un-sexy sex toys. (How will the diy sex toy people recycle christmas trees?)
- Check out what dildos went as for Halloween, and what the dildos did before that.
- Dirty laundry update: Last week we told you about vagina underwear (specifically, we told you not to wear it). This week it's frozen ground beef panties. Again, we ask you not to wear them, and we are backed up by the federal government (finally, some support here!) because the beef may have been contaminated with E. coli. Hats of Meat, however, are still tasteful and fashion-forward, wear well in the winter, and should be fine long as you don't get them near the dirty meat panties.
Last century in sex: U.S troops in London in WWII no match for "young sluts." But really, who is?
Color me horny. "Adult" paint by numbers, which is good because I don't understand the letters on that site. But that's OK, because the pictures are in the universal language of porn.
Nip/tuck. Do dogs know when they've been de-balled? I don't know if ball-replacement surgery helps, but having your owner wear a necklace with fake balls on it has to be a downer when you are trying to be a stud on the dog run.
Belly dancers. I'm not going to make fun of the 7th Annual Women's Belly and Womb Conference, where we will learn to love and know the power in our bellies and celebrate the magic of our womb today. As conference organizer ALisa (sic) Starkweather puts it, "Belly and Womb. Belly and Womb. You've got to know what's down in there. Belly and Womb. Belly and Womb. You've got to heal what you think you can't bear. Belly and Womb. Belly and Womb. Listen to your body. She speaks what's true. Belly and Womb. Belly and Womb. Honor the wisdom deep in you." I'm listening to my belly and she wants to hurl. I'm going to honor that wisdom.
You're in trouble. They call it Urine Gone, but Urine Trouble would have been better. Order it "as seen on tv" and you get a black-light stain detector as seen on tv shows like CSI. And if you don't know why I mention this in a sex post, you aren't thinking about how gross/fun it would be to play detective in a motel room with that thing.
A blog of their own. Salon started a blog for the ladies, and lady-readers must be majorly pms-ing 'cause they HATE it. Maybe after a few days, a few pints of Ben and Jerry's, and a handful of Advil, they'll chill. One lady thinks it's "astoundingly sucktastic" to find some weird or funny or interesting tidbit in the news, add snarky comments, call it a blog, and think anyone besides your friends would care. Yeah. Right. OK. Are we meeting at the movies later? Call me! Bye!
[You have to sit through an ad to get to Salon. Sucktastic!]
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