Have you ever used a color laser printer to print a dirty picture? Or photocopied some porn on a color photocopier? If you’re male and have had routine unsupervised access to such devices, you know you have. No point in trying to deny it.

But did you know that the spiffy new porn steaming in your output tray is secretly encoded with your printer serial number and other info that could be used to identify you?

That’s a function your government got snuck into your hardware, ostensibly to catch counterfeiters. But nobody knows what else they are using the secret markings for. If you print subversive fliers or protest literature, it might be smart to worry.

And if you want to know more, what do you do? Which machines are spying on you? And what data are they writing on your documents? Is it just color laser devices? The Electronic Freedom Foundation (EFF) is trying to find out for you. And they need help. Money is always good, but they also need more data. Details here.

Me, I don’t like the very idea of having government agents pressure tech companies into putting sneaky “features” into their products. Does your DVD burner secretly encode every disk you burn with its serial number and the name you gave Windows when you set up your email account? Does your video camera secretly encode your treasured first-person footage of your girlfriend’s cum-covered face with date, time, and the camera serial number that’s in your customer records at Best Buy? Probably not. But in a world where things like this happen, is it paranoid to wonder?

You’re doing pretty well as an artist when you can paint a girl in a pool on the street that’s good enough to inspire someone to shuck down and try to join her:

Art is by Julian Beever, an English pavement artist. But the real reason I posted this was to inquire of my fellow recovered Everquest addicts: Doesn’t that pool look a lot like the outside-the-gate entrance to the Qeynos Sewers?

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My obsession with vintage pinup photos from Usenet continues unabated, but the email I’m getting suggests that nobody minds overmuch. Here’s my latest find:

All I can say is: “Yum!”

An email from Sam Sugar of SugarBank has prompted me to create a new category on the blogroll: Adult Industry Blogs.

Sam’s is only the most recent entrant into the category of well-written blogs by porn industry participants: photographers, movie makers, adult webmasters, and pornographers of every stripe. These folks are often extremely knowledgeable, literate, and passionate about sex-related topics, but the ones who don’t blog about their own sex lives (or who don’t post so many free samples of their product) have never been a great fit in the Sex Blog category. The new category also gives me room for creative people like Tony Comstock and others whose blogs present as marketing devices, but interesting ones. (I say “present as marketing devices” because any blog by a person in commerce is a marketing device, whether or not people notice it as such.)

Back to Sam Sugar. To give you the flavor, he recently debunked nine anti-porn myths:

6. Porn is for perverts

With 800 million videos being sold and rented in North America each year either porn is loved by everyone, or everyone’s a pervert.

Paul Fishbein (founder of AVN magazine) said that anti-porn protestors want us to believe that the porn industry serves 800 guys who each rent a million movies a year. He’s right.

People want to enjoy sexual material in every city and state, they spend more on porn in hotels than they do on drinks from the mini-bar. Whatever your thoughts about it, porn’s not a niche interest.

Indeed.

I got a note from Twiddly Bits asking me to let folks know her blog isn’t down forever. Seems she (and everyone else hosted by the Indecent Blogging folks — Red Sneaker Diaries and Naughty Secrets, to name two others on my blogroll, are also gone) has been down for two days, with no contact or response from Indecent Blogging. Ouch! Now I guess we know what’s indecent about that service!

The shirtless rogue in this picture really knows how to steal a kiss. Tying up the pretty girls may not be politically correct, but it seems to be working for him:

Of course, the next thing he’s going to do is unbuckle that big belt buckle. And then she’ll be kissing something else.

Picture courtesy Sex and Submission.

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Sometimes I miss San Francisco, even though the three years I lived there I was too young and callow and lonely and broke and chickenshit to take advantage of even five percent of its true charms. Despite being the most populous place I’ve ever resided, some of my better memories of SF are of its natural spaces; one vivid memory is the Halloween night I spent wandering in the moonlight on Ocean Beach, enjoying the surf air but lacking the social mojo to crash any of the bonfire parties scattered up and down the beach. I always did enjoy Golden Gate Park when my hikes took me over that way, and I often mourned the lack of frolicking naked people that my father reported were prevalent when he frequented the place some thirty years before me.

The great wheel turns, or I didn’t keep my eyes open wide enough, or the times they are a-changin’…again. Violet Blue knows how to run a picnic:

Then we meandered home, where we made afternoon cocktails and put all the produce and fresh bread into a picnic basket and headed off to Golden Gate Park. We spread out a packing blanket I stole a few SRL shows ago and sat in the trees, on grass and little tiny white flowers, along a secluded stretch of winding duck pond. For a few minutes a couple and a photographer wandered through out little corner of bliss, taking their engagement photos. We sipped Campari and soda with lemon, and nibbled on everything in and out of the picnic basket. At one point, I even took dessert in the form of a quick and nasty blowjob while Hornboy writhed on the blanket — a very daring thing for me, to do this in public. A first. Such a huge turn-on, too; but how can a girl resist seeing a nice hard knob in a pair of pants and not want to take a sample? A girl just can’t.