It’s hard. So very hard. Uh, life, that is.

Bacchus loves him some edible swimwear.

Spammer: “Pay the Rent With Your Ass Girl!”

Bacchus: “But I don’t have an ass girl!”

Moral: Punctuation matters.

Halley says so:

It IS about size — the size of the guy’s heart who happens to own that penis. It’s about the size of everything attached to that penis. The size of his kindness … and big big kindness matters. The size of the time he carves out of his life for you … and all of us find it harder and harder to drop everything and give a nice big full morning, afternoon or evening to the ones we love. The size of his laughter. The size of his eyes. The way they look at you, across a larged-sized room. The size of his courage.

Brutally ripped from context over at the ever-funny Marn’s Big Adventure, these observations on springtime:

“Once the tumult of spring is over and everyone is appropriately sexed up, things will settle down here immeasurably. But right now it’s pretty raucous.”

There’s an odd little flash movie on this page (direct .swf file link here) involving disembodied cartoon breasts that dance around to piano music. Yup. For real. And some of them wind up in a parfait glass, with spoons. And then at the end there’s a whole ball of them that explode, like the Death Star.

What does it mean? Hell if Bacchus knows. It’s Japanese, if that helps.

BJ isn’t a token gayblog anymore. Welcome, GayPornBlog!

Why, tulips on an organ, of course.

(The lips belong to Japanese hottie Sayaka Uchida.)