That’s the problem with keeping puppygirls, you have to take them for walkies even on snowy days:

I wish I knew the story of this pretty photograph; that looks like the window embrasure for one of those ancient bombproof stone office buildings. No Mardi Gras beads in evidence:

Postscript that ate the post: Just a few words to the wise about feedback on photographs. Lately I’ve been getting more niggardly about allowing certain sorts of comments through moderation when I post pictures. Specifically, the one sentence “Heh heh heh, I’d like to wash her windows” gestures of lewd appreciation are making it less and less often. Though I do appreciate hearing positive feedback on the photos I post, there’s a classy way to do it — and then there are the other ways.

Hearing that you think a photographic subject is pretty or beautiful or desireable is great; I probably think the same, and it’s always nice to be agreed with. But there’s a line that’s crossed when men (and it’s almost always men) personalize their connection to an attractive photographic subject, and begin to state sexual intentions — however whimsical — in connection with that photographic subject. It’s the same sort of line that’s crossed when construction workers shout lewd proposals to women passing on the street, really. Stating sexual desires, publicly, in connection with a woman who hasn’t invited anything from you, is a sexually aggressive act, and one that displays a certain unconcern for whether your sexual advances are welcome. That unconcern can create real fear on the street, and the karmic echoes of that fear make it unpleasant online, even though it’s technically harmless here. And that unpleasantness, in turn, gets in the way of my goal of having ErosBlog feel like a safe and friendly place to everyone.

I haven’t been consistent about this, and I probably never will be. Some of these comments get through, especially the longer or more witty ones. Shorter and cruder get nuked quicker. Ones from established commenters get more leeway (Hi, Karl.) But overall, my feeling is that I’ve been too liberal, and allowed too many of these lately. Please make my job easier, gentlemen, by acting like gentlemen! Thank you.

The previously-moribund Naked Protesters site appears to be rising from the dead; they’ve begun posting some of the recent crop of nude activist photos, such as this one:

You’ve doubtless heard of the Polar Bear Club, that group of (usually) middle-aged-guys who go out on New Year’s Day (or some other suitable midwinter day), cut a hole in the ice, and jump into the hole (extra points for nekkidness). This phenomenon seems to happen anywhere that’s suitably wintry (Nome, Siberia, Minnesota) but the further north you get, the more participants seem to turn up.

Without further ado, then. They are not all middle-aged guys. This is the prettiest Polar Bear Club member I’ve ever seen:

From Sexoteric.

Artist Ursula Vernon has new ideas about tampon marketing:

She explains:

I am female.

I am not girly. I am desperately ungirly. I look good in pink, but I feel guilty about it. For various reasons, I would sooner belly-crawl through broken glass than buy anything marketed “for girls!” or “for women!” And I resent the fact that feminine products have me, as it were, by the short hairs in this regard.

And so, a year or so ago, I decided that I wanted a new brand of tampon. Something that was not girly, that was not pastel, that did not have flowers, and which did not make my ovaries curl up and die of shame. I do not mind having a period–I’d rather not, but eh, goes with the territory–but I detest the marketing.

It’s time for a rugged new brand. A brand no one will ever call “girly.” A brand you can take to the checkout counter and meet the clerk’s eye while you buy it, and if they say a word, you have ’em tied to the mast and flogged.

Blackbeard the Pirate’s Rugged Tampons. A product you can trust, from a name you can’t!

Ah, and now — after my link tip post below — the fruits of one of the triggering tips. Frank from OMG Blog sent me a Helena Christensen nude spread tip. Turns out Helena Christensen is not (presumably) his girlfriend; she’s a “former supermodel”. Whatever, she’s pretty and she’s nude:

Thanks, Frank!

Here’s a little tip for folks sending me link tips. In the last week I’ve gotten a handful in this format:

[Female Name I’ve Never Heard Of] nude photos: {link}

To which my reaction is: “What, is she your girlfriend or something?”

Typically I don’t even bother to click. I’m not a celeb watcher, I don’t read People, I don’t know who Baby SueMe is or why she’s got twenty pages in Vanity Fair (I heard that on CNN while failing to click past Larry King fast enough).

There are people nominated for Oscars that I’ve never heard of. Their names won’t even get a “What, isn’t she some kind of actress?” from me. When it comes to modern celebrity culture, I’m clueless.

So here’s the tip: If you want to send me a link tip like this, make sure you include a hook. Say: “Nude pictures of So-and-So, you know, the girl who got caught with Meatloaf on the observation deck of the Space Needle wearing nothing but a latex bra.”