Going to the mall would be so much more fun if this were the norm in charity bell-ringers:

Merry Christmas!

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Maybe it’s just me, but if I saw this needlework in the kitchen, I’d construe it as a positive invitation to tamper:

At this very moment, you can actually buy this item from The Inverted Eye, self-described as “subtly kinky vintage items and discrete fetish antiques”. It feels like a very-nicely curated collection of select thrift store goodies, to be honest, but the more you browse, the more you start thinking “hmm, this yard sale is more … interesting … than most.” Bakelite enema syringe, anyone?

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This is a poem on adultery, from a 1656 book called “Sportive Wit” compiled by John Phillips and, as he put it, “collected for the publick good, by a club of sparkling wits”.

In essence it’s a sermon on the futility of marital jealousy, I would say:

The Bulls Feather

It chanced not long ago, as I was walking,
An echo did bring me to where two were talking:
‘Twas a man said to his wife, Die had I rather,
Then to be cornuted, and wear the Bulls feather.
Then presently she replied, Sweet, art thou jealous?
Thou canst not play Vulcan before I play Venus:
Thy fancies are foolish, such follies to gather:
There’s many an honest man has worn the Bulls feather.
Though it be invisible, let no man it scorn,
Though it be a new feather made of an old horn:
He that disdains it, in heart or mind either,
May be the more subject to wear the Bulls feather.
He that lives discontent, or in despair,
And feareth false measure, because his wife’s fair:
His thoughts are inconstant, much like winter weather
Though one or two want it, he shall have a feather.

Bulls feathers are common as Ergo in schools,
And only contemned by those that are fools:
Why should a Bulls feather cause any unrest,
Since neighbours fare always is counted the best?
Those women wh’are fairest, are likeliest to give it;
And husbands that have them, are apt to believe it.
Some men though their wives should seem for to tether,
They would play the kind neighbour, and give the Bulls feather.
Why should we repine that our wives are so kind,
Since we that are husbands, are of the same mind?
Shall we give them feathers, and think to go free?
Believe it, believe it, that hardly will be.
For he that disdains my Bulls feather today,
May light of a Lass that will play him foul play.
There’s ne’er a proud Gallant that treads on Cows leather,
But he may be cornuted, and wear the Bulls feather.
Though beer of that brewing I never did drink,
Yet be not displeased if I speak what I think:
Scarce ten in a hundred, believe it, believe it,
But either they’ll have it, or else they will give it.

Then let me advise all those that do pine,
For fear that false Jealousie shorten their time;
That disease will torment them worse then any fever:
Then let all be contented, and wear the Bulls feather.

Can you believe that this cartoon once appeared in the Chicago Sun-Times? Illustrating, of all things, an Ann Landers advice column?

Spanking Blog has the story.

The times (and the Sun-Times) have sure changed since 1960.

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With her under your tree, your Christmas ought to be merry indeed:

I can’t arrange that, but for a few bucks, you can arrange to have her stripping on your Windows desktop in HD. If you can settle for (very high resolution) still pictures, they are free here.

I am not making this up. Mexican Playboy did a photo shoot of Maria Florencia Onori as the Virgin Mary, and the result was a bunch of pissed-off Mexican Catholics.

I myself think Maria is beautiful, and don’t have a lot of time for Christians who despise female beauty to the point where they freak out when it’s associated, however indirectly, with their holy figures:

I got this from Violet Blue, who has many more details.

This is from “Wit Restored” by John Mennes, dating to 1658:

On a Maid’s Leg

Fair Betty used to tuck her coats up high,
That men her foot and leg might soon espy.
Thou hast a pretty leg, (saith one) fair Duck.
Yea, two, (saith she) or else I have ill luck.
They’re two indeed, they’re twins, I think, quoth he,
They are, and yet they are not, Sir, said she;
Their birth was both at once, I dare be sworn
And yet between them both a man was born.