December 20th, 2011 -- by Bacchus
It’s not just Rick Santorum you know. The spurious but supposed association between gay people and bestiality crops up (in the fevered corners where “cultural conservatives” worry about sex) all the time. I agree with this author:
“Someone just needs to alert them that gay bears are not actual bears.”
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December 20th, 2011 -- by Bacchus
Slate has an entertaining article (but no photos) by the man who wheedled access from the Vatican to see the 1516 bathroom decorated by Rapheal in the pagan Roman erotic style:
In 1516, the Renaissance master Raphael decorated a bathroom within the Papal Apartments with erotic frescos. Today, the wicked gallery is called the Stufetta della Bibbiena, the “small heated room of Cardinal Bibbiena,” after the worldly official who commissioned the work.
…
We passed through Bibbiena’s original bedroom, now a sanitized meeting room, and stopped in front of a small wooden door. Poised with the key, the monsignor was momentarily perplexed. “We open up the Stufetta very rarely. Almost never.”
But then we were inside. That tight, vaulted room–twice as high as its 8-foot width–was covered with cavorting naked deities. Raphael had designed his frescoed panels like a graphic novel, recounting the adventures of Venus, the goddess of love, and Cupid, the god of erotic desire, for Cardinal Bibbiena to admire as he lounged in his hot tub. At knee level, the original silver faucet was crafted into the face of a leering satyr. One panel showed the naked goddess stepping daintily stepped into her foam-fringed shell. In others, she admires herself in a mirror, lounges between Adonis’ legs and swims in sensual abandon. A couple of the frames, even more risqué, have been destroyed. One, recorded by an early visitor, showed Vulcan attempting to rape Minerva.
Embarrassingly, I had to ask the monsignor to stand aside, so I could get a proper view of the most notorious image, of the randy goat-god Pan leaping from the bushes with a monstrous erection. I was shocked to see that the image had been vandalized. Someone had etched out Pan’s manhood and filled in the gap with white paint. This, of course, made the object even larger and more noticeable–another parable about the futility of censorship.
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December 20th, 2011 -- by Bacchus
That’s foodie-person Nigella Lawson covered in caramel there. She says it’s not an erotic image. Rachel Kramer Bussel politely explains why she’s fulla shit.
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December 19th, 2011 -- by Bacchus
He looks a little bit oppressed by the load, but all in all, I think he’s bearing up well:
From alt.binaries.pictures.erotica.vintage.
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December 19th, 2011 -- by Bacchus
Detail from this cover.
December 18th, 2011 -- by Bacchus
Finally, exercise made fun!
(And since that’s a tumblr link, here’s a backup link for ya.)
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December 16th, 2011 -- by Bacchus
I’m really too young to have experienced the High Cheese era of mirrored bedroom ceilings, although I did (just once) have the dubious pleasure of encountering one. It was at an aging and astonishingly out-of-the-way resort property where the Nymph and I booked the “King Room” in order to enjoy the en suite jacuzzi, and we found the place (though very comfortable) not to have been renovated since the days of disco.
This does not diminish my amusement at the “travels and stores in a mailing tube” version:
I suspect James Lileks is correct to suggest that only hashish could make that bearable!
The key words: “Mirror-like,” which means not a mirror at all, and “travels in a mailing tube.” So you can bring it along on your first date. This was the 70s, after all: you’d meet someone at the fern bar, go home, get the funky portable mirror out of the back of your van, put it up with double-sided tape, love the one you’re with, and let her check your back for problem moles. Bonus fun points if you were both completely pounded on Moroccan hashish, looking up, and the thing detached and floated down.
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