I’m one of these people who studiously avoided all non-mandatory art classes during my formal education, because so much that is considered great in art struck (and still strikes) me as immensely dull. Tell me again why we are looking at a cracked oil painting of some not-very-tasty-looking apples in a bowl?

If somebody had explained to me that the good artists spent half their lives painting flowers and the backs of their hands so they could learn to paint convincing nekkid pictures, I might have been more interested. As it is, it took the internet to introduce me to all sorts of long-dead illustrators and artists whose works I could have started enjoying at a much younger age.

Case in point: Auguste Leroux. This is titled “The Mirror”:

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If this sort of thing were seen more often, it would go a long way toward improving our nation’s physical fitness:

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These days getting inside a lady’s bra isn’t quite crossing the Rubicon, but when I was a sexed-up teen it did seem like a big deal to let a boy’s hand wander inside……and taking it off was a pretty big step, too. The “Rubicon” connection is what came to mind when I first saw a recent XKCD cartoon:

But I’ve had plenty of dates that treat a bra clasp exactly like it’s a Rubik’s cube too! I’ve meant to ask about that……how is it that guys can work on the most delicate pieces of machinery with great skill, but when it comes to a simple clasp, their fingers turn all fumbly? Does a bit of that youthful thrill remain? Or is it because most of his blood is elsewhere?

This is one of the great mysteries of mankind.

When Colonel X was authorized to detach one soldier to serve as his personal aide, I’m pretty sure his chain of command did not have Isis Love in mind. Nor, I think, was this the sort of military assistance they felt he needed:

More camouflaged faux-military shenanigans in can be found here, courtesy of Hogtied.com.

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I know this is supposed to be a sex blog and not a porn industry blog, dammit, but I’ve published ErosBlog for long enough to put me in the porn industry if you look at things just right, and this is where I blog. Anyway, I’m sharing this porn industry link for its sad sad comedy value. What happened is that a self-described “independent film maker” with “friends who work in your industry” posted a long rambling article to the leading adult webmaster board entitled “Porner’s Manifesto: How To Fix Your Industry“.

Some of the guy’s points are sort of obvious “how to do business” advice, but all mixed up with the unsolicited business advice were angry off-topic ranty bits about how porn stars should be more willing to sleep with their fans. I’ve excerpted heavily and taken liberties with paragraph order:

I know its hard but try to care about your fans. Afterall, if you did not have them, where would you be other than in some club trying to get noticed? Give something back to those who pay your bills and I am not talking about the director or producer. They get laid enough. You want to make a difference, try laying one of your fans. Get passed the fact that they do not look like your normal porn partners. So what? In a few years, you will not be as hot as the chick they will be supporting with their hard earned cash then. Build for your future. Ensure a fan for life. I promise you, one day your current fame or vision of fame will fade and what will you be?

Let’s get one thing straight. You have sex for money. Pure and simple. While I would agree this is an art form, it what it is. The only difference between a porn star and an escort is there is a camera involved. Yet, many of these stars tend to smoke the diva hash pipe. These so called stars are hot the day they arrive but once they have been around for awhile, a new girl comes right in to replace you. It doesn’t mean to get an attitude.

I overheard this porn chick one day at Starbucks in LA. Her and her agent were talking about how to increase her popularity and you can imagine the same bullshit. Go on KSex, web sites, radio, etc… So I mention the same things I just did above and the porner looked back at me and said and I quote: “Are you fucking stupid? Why would I ever want to fuck any of my fans? Have you ever seen my fans? They are fucking gross and fat. Why do you think they have to jerk off to me? The day I fuck my fans is the day I become a whore.â€? Now imagine that. I simply replied, you fuck for money, youre a whore.

Seriously, I have never seen an industry that ignores their fans the way porn stars do. Not to mention, these same stars are the ones who think they should be immune to the down times by charging the same rates to producers. I am unsure if anyone has tried to sit them down and explain that what they do isn’t that difficult to find someone else to do. Unless you shoot fireworks out of your vagina, you have sex on camera. It’s not something you went to college for. You do not need a special degree for it. You lay down, you have sex, and then take a brick in the mouth. But to listen to some girls, you would think they are curing world hunger or cancer. The only cancer they may be preventing is prostate cancer but thats still open to debate.

Anybody want to take odds that this guy has (or had) himself in mind as one of the fans “the talent” should be fucking for free? No, too easy? OK, what are the odds he’s actually tried, and failed miserably, to seduce a porn girl? (For “seduce” you could read “make a crude and lazy pass at” with, I suspect, great accuracy.)

If I had to guess, I’d guess that this photograph is of a nudist, from the era when porn was pretty dangerous to publish. Publications featuring pictures of the “sunshine and health” lifestyle sold as well as you’d expect, but they were so gosh-darn wholesome that blue-nosed prosecutors found them difficult to suppress:

Like most of the vintage photos you’ll see on ErosBlog, I found this on alt. binaries. pictures. erotica. vintage.

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I’m sure it’s never been easy being the girlfriend of a stage magician — if you’re not double careful, before you know it you’re chained in a glass box wearing a thong and two pasties, being sawed in half in front of an audience of strangers. But unexpected sexual practices? In a word, yes.

In the July issue of Harper’s magazine, professional magician Alex Stone has a long article about his trip to the World Championship of Magic, where he competed in the “Olympics of Magic” against the best stage magicians in the world. Earlier in the article, he mentions his new girlfriend Rachel, whose frequent attentions kept him from practicing his routine as much as he perhaps ought to have. Then, he begins to describe his own competition routine, and gets to talking about the practice of palming coins:

After the vanish, I press the coin with the middle and index fingers into the center of my palm, where it’s held in place by a slight contraction of the muscles. This is the Classic Palm, the most important concealment in all of coin magic. Read the coin worker’s bible, J. B. Bobo’s Modern Coin Magic: “This is one of the most difficult of all concealments to master but one of magic’s finest secrets. The layman cannot imagine it possible to conceal a coin in this way.”

…

Part of mastering a palm involves learning to conceal objects while the hands are otherwise engaged. Following the advice of the masters, I go through much of my daily life with coins classic-palmed in both hands — on the subway, at dinner parties, and even during sex.

Emphasis added.

As I said, it must be a challenge to be a magician’s girlfriend. Some women, you come to bed with a dollar in each hand, they aren’t going to take it kindly. I’m just sayin’.