This is a little bit gross (OK, it’s a lot gross) so I think I’ll just link you. Beware of festering zombie dick!

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Here’s a tame dirty joke, perhaps rising to the level of an anecdote, about president Calvin Coolidge and his wife:

President Coolidge and his wife were touring a farm. While the President was elsewhere, the farmer proudly showed Mrs. Coolidge a rooster that “could copulate with hens all day long, day after day.” Mrs. Coolidge coyly suggested that the farmer tell that to Mr. Coolidge, which he did.

The President thought for a moment and then inquired, “With the same hen?”

“No, sir,” replied the farmer.

“Tell that to Mrs. Coolidge,” retorted the President.

Via Sexoteric.

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Here is yet another one of the many pictures out there that do appear to depict California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger as a young(er) party animal of the first rank. In this photo, he (if indeed, it is he) seems to have developed an exceedingly firm and deliberate two-handed grasp on a happy woman’s right buttock and, uh, personal area:

I can see Arnold’s left pinky finger, but let’s look at the closeup: where exactly has the finger next to it gone?

Where has it gone? It’s gone exploring, I’d say!

As Bill Maher would say, “I kid the governor, but it’s out of love”. (Of course, Bill’s usually lying when he says that; I’m sorta not.) For all the governor’s many faults (he’s a politician now, which makes enumerating them redundant) it’s nice to see someone in the public eye who hasn’t spent his whole life in timorous avoidance of adult fun because of (imagine this being said in the voice of the high school debate club member you liked least) “how it will look when I run for office someday.”

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I have seen this understated “couple having sex” artwork in quite a few different places over the years, but never did I imagine it was once available on sterling silver cuff links. But here it is, as advertised in the October, 1959 issue of Ace magazine:

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Remember my post Crapping All Over Beauty? I wrote then:

What I’ve learned running a sex blog is that there are a whole host of guys whose only mode of discourse about bodily appearance is to make a negative comment. I think perhaps it originates in adolescent one-upsmanship; one guy says “Sally’s hot, I’d like to do herâ€? and the other guys all say “No, man, she’s a pig, she’s got a huge assâ€? as a way of belittling the first guy. However it started, the result is a fairly large class of guys whose reflex response whenever they see an erotic picture is to say something mean and ugly about the body depicted.

It’s clearly an act of emotional aggression, some sort of attempt to establish superiority by expressing contempt for that which other people consider beautiful.

I was reminded of this when I saw a trollish comment set reproduced on Naked Protesters, consisting of 35 mostly-ugly comments left by the same commenter in the course of fifty short minutes. Here are just three of them:

“I don’t know who the hell she is but somebody please put a shirt on her! ooo, she gross.”

“Oh crap Lesbians! Old ugly lesbians. RUUUUUUNNN”

“What a pic. A boob that is close to dragging the ground. More armpit hair than a lumberjack. And get a load of the tatooed thing behind her. Where do you have to go to find such strangeness?”

Where, indeed?

This intent raven-haired beauty was originally drawn, I believe, in the pages of an Italian fumetti comic called Pig:

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One hundred clothespins. On one woman’s tender bits.

It’s like art. That hurts to look at.