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September 13th, 2025 -- by Bacchus

Meme Archeology: OwO What’s This?

ErosBlog would not normally reference the recent bloody political assassination of a white Republican neofascist demagogue. (No, not this demagogue, a different one.) Political violence is emphatically the wrong lane for this publication.

However, this is 2025. Strange doings are afoot. Old patterns cannot hold. And thus it was that yesterday we were all treated to a spectacle of surpassing bizarreness. An alleged gunman was suddenly in custody, turned in by his own white Mormon Republican family, and the white Mormon Republican governor of Utah, one Spencer Cox, was on television with his big shaved block head, holding a press conference and attempting to read with a straight face a description of crime scene evidence so heavily-online, Governor Cox clearly had no idea what he was describing. Here he is, talking about meme language (whether he knew it or not) inscribed on the fatal spent shell casing from the crime scene:

Friends and gentle readers, I am an aging white man. Yes, I’ve been on the internet since the beginning. I’ve been a gamer, in varying degrees, for that whole time. Once upon a time I could claim without irony to be “aware of all internet traditions.” But I am slipping, in my dotage. When I saw the governor of Utah choke on an “OwO” I knew damned well we had fallen into deepest anime/gamer/4chan meme hell. Furthermore, since there was a man dead in a morgue in Utah somewhere, I figured groypers might be involved. But I didn’t recognize the precise meme involved.

For purposes of this post, I’m going to stay away from the politics, and from the other memes referenced on the other ammunition found at the scene. This particular bulges/OwO meme has a precise, well-known origin. Here it is:

catboy furry online humor chat cartoon

Know Your Meme credits this cartoon to Imgur user MinotaurusPro, dates it to 2015, and describes it as:

A meme depicting two furries roleplaying online. In the art, one of the furries writes to the other, “nuzzles u back and pounces on u and notices your buldge ‘OwO what’s this…?” In the case of the meme, “bulge” refers to noticing the outline of a man’s crotch. The meme is meant to make fun of furry roleplaying, including the language and typing quirks stereotypically attributed to roleplayers and furries. Notably, the meme uses the symbol “OwO,” which is an emoticon commonly used by furries to portray a cutesy surprised face, similar to “UwU.” It is also used outside the furry community on the internet, often ironically.

We should now spare a moment for compassion toward the governor of Utah, the FBI, and every member of the law enforcement community who has been forced to grapple and who is currently grappling with the irony-poisoned evidence surrounding this shooting investigation. They are a bunch of offline squares who are not equipped to find nuance in an online world that delights in hiding said nuance in a bewildering mix of ironic mashups and deliberate self-contradiction. They can’t fix any of that overnight. So they are lost without a map, and there is very little hope for them.

This post is for the rest of us, for whom hope remains. Let me help all of you avoid some of the wrong roads I have seen other commentators go down. For example, I’ve seen it said in many places that the reference is to the song Catty Girl by Apollo. Usually whoever makes this claim references one of the two hundred and thirty five thousand TikTok videos that use the song for a soundtrack. Give a listen:

The lyrics pretty clearly call back to the meme, as I think you’ll agree if you dip into that vast well of videos linked above.

Other wrong roads I’ve seen people go down include the assertion that use of this one meme indicates a strong or ironclad association with groypers or 4chan or furries or some other particular online tribe. That’s just not how heavily-online meme culture works. There’s memetic swapping and borrowing. You can’t say precisely just who someone is, by looking only at their memes of choice.

Finally, I’m going wrap up this post with a meme-literacy lesson on what is going on with “OwO” in the first place. It’s an old-fashioned chat emoji, like typing these characters to indicate shrugging: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ But OwO is part of a whole family of anime-inflected chat emoji that invoke facial expressions, and often imply some verbal component, like simpering, that goes along with them. Here’s a handy graphic to some of the common ones:

uwu versus owo chart

With a look at this chart, you should start recognizing how all talk of the OwO in mass media that has recognized its meme origins at all, has been tone-deaf at best. Because the only anime-face emoji that’s known in western public culture tends to be “UwU” — which is not the same as OwO at all! UwU (pronounced “ooowoo”) is a sort of coy or submissive simper; OwO (pronounced almost like “oh-ho!”) is a sexually-agressive interested greeting. The facial expressions on the chart say it better than words do. But most media discussion since poor Governor Cox had to read out the letters yesterday has treated these two as if they were interchangeably the same. And they just are not.

I shall let Khan from TikTok take us out with a comprehensive video illustrating the differences, as properly used in human speech with appropriate facial expressions:

There shouldn’t be any further excuse for confusion on your part after all of this!

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September 12th, 2025 -- by Bacchus

I Tell You Three Times: Run Away!

On one of my social media accounts, I noticed a connection request. I looked at their profile description. It had only three words: Alpha Dominant Master.

I just about broke my fingers blocking that shit. Insecure much, do you think?

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September 11th, 2025 -- by Bacchus

Tryst Under The Boardwalk

When she said “Meet me under the boardwalk later” he had high hopes. But he didn’t expect to find her stark naked with a big welcoming smile on her face! Turned out to be the best day of his life:

smiling nude woman in golden hour sunshine under a dock with a welcoming smile on her face

Photo is from the Journal Of American Nudism (Volume 700, No. 6, undated, perhaps 1960).

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September 9th, 2025 -- by Bacchus

The Creepy Epstein Birthday Book Letter

We first got a written description of this creepy birthday letter in July. Donald Trump claimed it didn’t exist and filed a bajillion-dollar defamation lawsuit to that effect, which immediately confirmed to the wise that it probably did exist. But Congress finally managed to subpoena the Epstein birthday book and so yesterday, the Wall Street Journal published the letter:

creepy letter from Epstein birthday book

Non-paywalled link is here. Per the Journal article, Trump’s people have pivoted their claims from “letter does not exist” to claiming that Trump didn’t draw the doodle or sign the signature.

Believe what you will. I’m only publishing it here because I think in the longer arc of history, it’s going to be a monumental icon of sleaze.

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September 8th, 2025 -- by Bacchus

The Pornocalypse Comes For Digital Scheherazade

I apologize in advance for the lack of links or sources. You’ll have to trust me on this story.

There exist closed forums where adult-industry webmasters talk business. I hang out on more than one of them. I can’t quote or copy those conversations here, obviously. But there’s a thread right now where the topic of discussion is using AI tools to, essentially, let sexy AI avatars read dirty stories to paying subscribers.

Basically the idea is: Scheherazade as a service. For a thousand and one nights — or for as long as you pay your subscription fee, anyway — the pretty topless houri of your dreams will read you a dirty story from whatever library of smut the service has managed to license or (I suspect) generate with some other AI tool.

And here’s the problem: the webmasters who want to do this aren’t the kind of high-level wizards of technology who can develop these AI tools themselves. They want to license them. And they keep getting titty-blocked by the pornocalypse. Long story short, when they test drive these tools on their smutty stories, they run afoul of dirty words filters. Because as I’ve mentioned before, AI tools are funded by venture capital, and thus come with pornocalypse baked in.

All the tools they try out seem to be OK with softcore erotica. But any time it gets “too kinky” (I haven’t seen specifics) or “too hardcore”, these entrepreneurs discover that the tools they want to use balk at specific stop-words in the erotica inputs. The script fails. Too filthy for venture capital. Sorry, try again!

The pornocalypse comes for us all.

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September 7th, 2025 -- by Bacchus

The Day The Pornocalypse Came For Deep Throat

movie theatre marquis announces judicial censorship of Deep Throat porn movie

I found an interesting article in the summer 1973 issue of Line & Form magazine. Excerpting several magazine interviews with the then-notorious porn actress Linda Lovelace about her controversial movie Deep Throat, the article was illustrated by photos of one of the theaters in New York City, where the film had been banned after both a very profitable run and then a subsequent adverse obscenity ruling:

Deep Throat is about a girl who fails to get satisfaction from ordinary intercourse. “I want to hear bells ringing, dams bursting, rockets exploding,” she says.

A doctor diagnoses the problem: her clitoris is in her throat, nine inches down. And the cure for her ills is, of course, fellatio. From then on bells ring and dams burst and rockets explode for Linda and whoever her lucky partner happens to be.

Not only can she take it all in, she loves it. She really convinces other people and perhaps herself as well that she has orgasms in her throat.

In more ways than one, Linda Lovelace is every man’s dream. There are other girls like her, to be sure, but probably every man has, at one time or another, wished that all girls could come that way.

Linda is also, as Richard Hill, who interviewed her for Oui, found, quite a startling personality.

He writes: It was like seeing the ingenue from Bonjour Tristesse appear to David Niven in mesh hose and garter belt. She was innocence and carnality, an All-American Next-Door Lollipop and La Belle Fellatrix. She had it all put together.

And Richard Hill followed Linda from New York to Florida, flirting, playing footsy under restaurant tables they shared with her old man. Nothing came of it but fantasy, but what a fantasy it was!

Incredible, this high school hand-holding with a girl who fucks on a large screen, he writes. Then I realize what I’ve done. I’ve idiotically and unconsciously been pursuing my part of the Linda fantasy — the All-American Lollipop — and she’s been responding that way. She’s feeding my fantasy of her, like the good little professional she is.

Good little professional that she is, Linda might have responded just as well to the Belle Fellatrix fantasy, too. More than one interviewer, though, endeavoring to get an “in-depth interview” with the star of Deep Throat, has come away less than satisfied. Richard Hill finally posed just two questions.

One was: Linda, why do you make porn flicks and how does it feel and all, you know what I mean? (Hill counts all of that as one question.)

Her response: Because I’m an exhibitionist. I dig doing it. I want everybody to see it. And I make good money.

All in all, these are good reasons for doing what she does. Making money, in itself, wouldn’t be enough, but she digs doing it and wants people to see her doing it. She not only feeds fantasies, she makes pornutopia come true.

Hill also asked: How do you do the thing with your throat?

She smiled and said, Everyone knows the answer to that one.

Not really. Linda, there are girls who’d love to know, step by step, just how it’s done.

Women’s Wear Daily, the garment industry’s trade magazine which got to Linda first, got about as far into this mystifying star as any body else has since then. She gave them this description of herself: I’m just a simple girl who likes to go to swinging parties and nudist colonies.

This simple girl is, of course, beyond feminist and anti-feminist arguments, so far beyond that the feminists themselves feel that some kind of attack is necessary, but they don’t know what to focus on.

box office placard announcing NYC theatrical closure of Deep Throat due to judicial censorship

Nora Ephron spills out her confusion in Esquire, where her whole February column is devoted to Linda Lovelace and Deep Throat: … After all, I can toss off phrases like ‘split beaver’ with almost devil-may-care abandon, and I came out of the theater a quivering fanatic. Give me the goriest Peckinpah any day.

What Nora Ephron finds particularly disturbing is a scene where Linda has a glass dildo inside her and her partner fills it with coke then drinks it. All I could think about was what would happen if the glass broke, Nora admits.

Others thought this was the high point of the film, and Linda says, Actually I think the funniest thing that happened when we were shooting was when we did that scene. They were going to shoot a little bit more, but someone said something and I started laughing and the glass dildo went flying into the air and cracked into a million pieces.

And here’s Linda Lovelace, back home in Texas with her boyfriend, describing it all to Nora Ephron who is calling from New York. Nora Ephron isn’t bitchy, she’s trying to be a good journalist and dig into the nitty-gritty so she’ll understand the Lovelace phenomenon. And she deserves credit because few of her fellow feminists bother with good journalism (or writing for men’s magazines). The exchange goes like this.

Nora: How do you feel about being recognized on the street?

Linda: It’s a kind of a goof.

And pretty soon things have been turned around.

Linda: Would you be nervous if you walked around nude and strangers saw you?

Nora: Yes.

Linda: See? I wouldn’t.

I did not expect what is happening, Nora Eprhon confesses, which is that we seem to be spending as much time talking about me and what Miss Lovelace clearly thinks of as my problems as we are about her and what I clearly think of as her problems.

Nora tries again: Why do you shave off your pubic hair in the film?

Linda: I always do. I like it.

Nora: But why do you do it?

Linda: Well, it’s kinda hot in Texas.

It goes on like this, with Linda only divulging the bare facts about herself that have already been widely publicized: She’s 21, from Texas, and it was that same boyfriend she’s still with who taught her how to do the trick with her throat.

No, she doesn’t talk about what, if anything, she did for a living before Deep ThroatI was just going to get a job as a topless dancer or something.

There’s not much here to threaten feminist idiology. What Linda threatens is, well, deeper. Nora Ephron was honest enough to confess that she felt “uptight.” And no wonder, for Linda comes on with this attitude of “I’m not hung up — life’s just a goof — what’s your problem?” She flattens feminist egos to the ground as easily as she evokes male erections, it seems.

Linda may do some good. For one thing, she really wants to help people get over their sex hangups. She doesn’t laugh at the erotically disabled, she’s sympathetic. Still, she doesn’t take the missionary slant of the sexual freedom people. She doesn’t try to make sex “holy.” She lets sex be hysterically funny, in fact, and this, along with her miraculous throat, is one of her major contributions to the porn genre. It used to be only the audience laughed.

Deep Throat gives skin flick makers something to strive for, all right. Theaters all over the country are advertising, “If you’ve seen Throat, you’ll like….” but if any other films are as good, they haven’t managed to get the publicity.

What’s more, Deep Throat elevates giving head to new status as a sex act, so that the talk about where female orgasms come from is apt to be revived. Dr. David Reuben and the clitoromaniac feminists may consider the question closed, but anyone who reads the fine print in Masters and Johnson knows that women can have real climactic spasms after as much as a brush of the breasts or the sight of a naked man. A misplaced clitoris may not be quite credible, but the orgasm through fellatio may not be such a one-sided thing as it’s usually thought to be.

At any rate, giving head ranks high in explicit erotic entertainment. The New York Erotic Film Festival opened with a live example this year, as guests stood around with their drinks in their hands and photographers kept clicking their shutters. Everybody seemed to be having fun playing voyeur. Then one man made a crack that revealed he’d seen better. “A Deep Throat she ain’t,” he said.

No, Linda Lovelace doesn’t have to be there to make her influence felt, and for better or worse, among head-givers and head-lovers her influence is going to be felt for some time.

If we judge by the uneasiness of their questions, it’s amazing how much this movie disturbed people half a century ago. Isn’t it?

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September 5th, 2025 -- by Bacchus

Beware Demanding Internet Hypnotists

Kay has a compelling hypnotic demand:

It’s not clear to me whether the project of the moment is to create a peggable femboy by hypnosis, or to seduce an existing femboy to bend over for pegging. The former, I think, from the deep-voiced off-screen “WTF”, but that’s scant evidence at best.

Kay’s source link; backup link.

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