I’m pretty sure that picture is a photoshop job (remember, we don’t play the Photoshop game here, kthx). But I found it last night as I was looking through my folder of naughty pictures and it fit my mood.

The end of 2007 sucked. J and I broke up, for good this time. My mother is sick and I moved back home to help take care of her. Home is a small town in a part of the US where good girls don’t have sex, much less kinky sex, and there aren’t many good guys available anyway. I’m getting older and it’s starting to show, I have some gray hair and wrinkles around my eyes. Not many chicks can rock that look.

So I saw this picture last night and I guess because I’m feeling sorry for myself I thought, “I’ll never stand at that corner again.” I hope that isn’t true, I’d like my last time having sex to be way better than it was. But it could happen. That got me thinking about what I would do different if I knew a session would be my last time having sex.

1. It wouldn’t be a pity fuck.
2. It would need to be somebody I care about, no anonymous pickups or drunk fucks.
3. I would try harder, to make sure I had fun and that my partner did too.
4. I would try to make sure it was as hot as possible for both of us (like, being outside or maybe some bondage, whatever my partner and I both like and want to do or try).

My list isn’t very flattering on me, but thinking about it will hopefully make me a better sexual partner, if I get another chance.

What would you want to do for your last time having sex?

Looks like this happy couple pulled off the road, jumped out their car, and got busy just as soon as the church vanished from their rear-view mirror:

If anybody knows who the artist is, I’d enjoy hearing about it in the comments.

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Random cute party photo:

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Since my earliest days on the Internet, in those legendary halcyon Usenet days before dubya-dubya-dubya entered our spoken language, I used to fire up my telephone modem (remember those?), log into whichever ISP was offering a flat-rate deal this month, fire up a news robot, and start downloading all the pictures of one or another Usenet Newsgroup. Generally that lasted until whomever was charged with enforcing the hidden limits on the “unlimited connection” noticed my 47-hour connection in the logs and terminated it with extreme prejudice.

Reviewing the visual plunder at a later time, I quickly learned something: there are images, once seen, that cannot be unseen. No matter how much you wish you could scrub your brain until they were gone.

I think that’s the “fun” behind internet grossout links — once your victim follows the link, it’s to late for them; the psychic damage is done.

Trouble is, once once these things “catches on” and gets talked about, people get curious, so they decide to have a look. Regret it later? Very possibly, but it’s too late.

The march of time being what it is, some of these have gotten almost unimaginably gross. There’s one going around right now — I’m not even going to name it — that’s… no, I’m not going to describe it, either. Seeing the first several seconds of it did not enrich my life, that’s about all I care to say.

So there’s a real service to be done in offering spoilers on these things, so that folks who don’t want to be ignorant can be informed about the current grossout links, without having to, you know, actually look at them.

All of which is by way of explaining this link, to such a collection of spoilers at Gawker. May you find it useful.

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As a man who spends a lot of time saying “No puppies! How would we…” I was amused by Heather Armstrong’s description of how she got her new puppy:

I won’t go into too much detail about how I persuaded my husband to get one of these puppies, just that I might have fallen to the ground, clutched the bottom of his pants, and dried my tears with his shoelaces. And then promised lots of naughty things involving whipped cream.

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I stumbled over these vintage shots of Ginger Lynn [update: or not] in a collection of old porn magazine scans. I thought her “orgasm faces” were pretty and fun and worth sharing:

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Speaking of aggressive stupidity, how did I miss this story? I guess I tuned out the DC Madam scandals because grown men calling hookers doesn’t even begin to jiggle my outrageometer. Thus did I miss the stunning irony of the so-called “AIDS czar” resigning in disgrace for preaching abstinence while practicing commercial adultery. Thanks to Violet Blue for the aging news, with her accompanying speculation:

At the same time, Randall Tobias, President Bush’s abstinence-promoting, condom-discouraging “AIDS Czar” and deputy secretary of state, resigned after admitting he was a customer of the famed “DC Madam” when the escort service was about to surrender its records.

…

Tobias was an outcall John – who spent the last several years enacting global and domestic policies about abstinence and anti-condom propaganda to people whose lives depend on accurate information. Do you think he used condoms, or did he shop at Bareback and Beyond? I’m thinking he did, especially considering his statements in 2004. As Kaiser Daily HIV/AIDS Report writes:

“Tobias … said that promoting abstinence and monogamy are ‘far more effective’ than distributing condoms for preventing the spread of HIV,” according to Agence France-Presse. ‘Statistics show that condoms really have not been very effective,’ Tobias said, adding, ‘It’s been the principal prevention device for the last 20 years, and I think one needs only to look at what’s happening with the infection rates in the world to recognize that has not been working.'”

Never was there a finer petard or a better hoist.