The Acidman shares with us (but does not claim to have written) how it would be if “Dear Abby” was a man:

Dear Mr. Abby:

Q: My husband continually asks me to perform oral sex on him.

A.: Do it. Sperm can help you loose weight and gives a great glow to your skin. Interestingly, men know this. His offer to allow you to perform oral sex on him is totally selfless. This shows he loves you. The best thing to do is to thank him by performing it twice a day. Then cook him a nice meal.

Mr. Abby misses a prime opportunity here, though, to further point out that, supposedly, semen makes women happy.

…to provide us with (via the Globe and Mail) a guide for finding a love hotel in Tokyo:

If you like window shopping, you’ll love looking for the perfect love hotel room. You can spot these hotels by the two prices (for a “rest” or a “stay”) marked outside, near the front door. Entering through a love hotel’s opaque glass sliding doors into its dimly lit, tasteful lobby, you’ll notice a wall with a panel with pictures of the different rooms on offer; if the picture is lit up, it’s available. You select a room by pressing the button underneath its photo, and pay the woman behind the partly obscured counter, who gives you your key. If you don’t see a room you like, check out the next establishment.

Some rules: Love hotels rent only to heterosexual couples. Threesomes aren’t welcome either, as we accidentally discovered earlier when three of our friends wandered into one love hotel and were greeted by a highly agitated woman exclaiming, “No three! No three!” Also, apparently, they’re only supposed to serve people who can speak Japanese, but we had no problem getting rooms. Love hotels are designed for discretion — some hide customers’ cars behind curtains to conceal their license plates, or strategically place walls to make it difficult to see directly into the hotel’s lobby. And while many of the rooms appeared booked, we didn’t see many patrons come or go, although we did spot couples holding hands wandering in the district, searching out the perfect love nest.

In a shameless bid for publicity, a notorious environmental organization has released a 10-point guide to environmentally friendly sex. No, I am afraid I am not making this up. The tips range from the ludicrously obvious to drop-in-the-bucket pointlessness (from an environmental standpoint, anyway):

Tips include turning off the lights to conserve energy (‘if you want to see your partner then have sex during the day’), making sure your garden is pesticide-free for alfresco activities (‘would you really want to set your bare bottom on weedkiller?’) and banning lubricants such as petroleum jelly (‘Esso’s screwing the planet but you don’t have to.’)

It gets worse:

And if you and your partner indulge in any spanking or bondage then Greenpeace advocate ‘looking for timber and paddles certified by the only internationally recognised ecological forest certification organisation, the Forest Stewardship Council.’

Kinky sex for the politically correct! Bah, give me a good old fashioned made-in-the-USA paddle chainsawed from the heart of a clear-cut old-growth Tongass National Forest yellow cedar tree any day. Guaranteed to give the nymphs that old fashioned personal tingle, while providing high-wage jobs for hard-working American loggers!

This, ladies and gents, is what we in the trade like to call a gratuitous animated .gif file:

It is reliably reported (er, in People Magazine) that Spice Girl Mel B likes a good sex spanking. Her ex-boyfriend, who reportedly is a bit peeved that she violated their mutual confidences, tells all:

“She particularly liked to be spanked on the bottom in the middle of it. She loved to talk dirty and learnt lots of dirty words in Icelandic and would shout them out when we had sex.”

And Mel loved the thrill of sex outdoors. Fjolnir said: “We made a point of doing it outdoors in the famous Blue Lagoon hot springs in Iceland.”

“We also joined the Mile High Club on a flight to America. We sneaked into the toilets and were at it for probably 10 minutes. She was moaning so much I put my hand over her mouth.”When we came out a stewardess gave us a knowing smile. Mel didn’t care and shared it all with the other Spice Girls when we saw them next.”

I once knew a woman who seemingly didn’t know that hands could contribute to this most worthwhile of projects. I was too young and dumb to even consider trying something so sensible as actual sexual communication, so she carried on, when we carried on, with her soft mouth ministrations that felt great but were far too gentle to actually ever get the job done this way. Eventually she traded me in for a married guy she met on the internet. But that’s a story for another day.

Anyway, Shell knows better:

I suck on the head and the first few inches, using my hand on the rest of the shaft (which is already well lubricated with saliva). I take his balls in my other hand, lightly flicking my nails through the hair, cupping them reverently, perhaps squeezing or tugging gently if I know he likes it. I vary the amount of suction, keep my tongue moving. If he wants to set the pace, then I comply, letting him use his hands to move my head at the rate he chooses. I love the feeling of having my mouth fucked. But if he prefers to let me remain in charge, then I am happy to continue worshipping him with my lips and tongue, continue squeezing and caressing his shaft with one hand, continue using the other hand to tease and tickle whatever parts of his body I can reach. I like to run it over the top of his mscular thigh, feel the place where it meets his hips, travel up across his torso to feel his chest, shoulders, neck. Then his face.

I touch his lips. My own lips are stretched wetly around him, moving up and down, sucking his shaft in and out, my tongue acting as a textured carpet. If he starts kissing and licking my fingertips, I go crazy with lust. If he sucks on my fingers, I usually come. Sometimes he’s so into the moment that he doesn’t pay any attention to my fingertips, and that’s okay too. I’ll just drag them down his body again and plan on getting my turn later.

When I sense he’s close to climax, I remove my hand and let him go deeper into my mouth. I grab his ass with both hands and suck hard, suck wet, suck until I feel him jerk and pulse on my tongue.

I give him as much time as he needs to finish, then I slowly pull off and kiss his penis adoringly. I sink into a pleasantly exhausted slump against his thigh, sometimes kissing and nuzzling the object of my worship, the tool that gives me so much pleasure, my lover’s penis.

Somewhere, right now, some lucky young man is benefiting in a very personal way from the communications miracle that is the internet.

From the BBC, a pathetic tale:

An Israeli couple are preparing to divorce after the man summoned a prostitute to his hotel room only to discover she was his daughter. The tale of family turmoil began some months ago when the father, a businessman based in the city of Haifa, was sent by his company to a course in the resort of Eilat for four days.

The Israeli newspaper Ma’ariv reports that the man took advantage of the visit to summon a call girl to his room on his first night there.

And that was when everything started to go horribly wrong….