I’m not sure what’s going on here, but it sure is cute:

We’ve got some sort of outdoor shower situation going on. One woman is getting clean while six wait in line. They are clearly aware of the photographer (since they are doing their best to protect the remnants of their modesty) but their smiles and laughter suggest they don’t care all that much.

Here’s a huge open directory of porn featuring all your favorite cartoon characters. I’m not going to name any names because (1) I don’t want searching kids to come to this page by mistake and (2) I don’t want aggrieved owners of the characters in question to send feral lawyers to hound me into an early grave. But imagine everyone’s favorite friendly ghost teaching a little witch in a red cape what his trailing tendril of protoplasm is good for. Or, say, that notorious spinach-eating sailor taking advantage of a certain young mermaid when she appears on his hook.

Sick, evil, mostly harmless fun. Check it out fast before it goes the way of all open directories.

A quote:

“Errol Flynn died on a 70-foot yacht with a 17-year-old girl. Walter’s always wanted to go that way, but he’s going to settle for a 17-footer and a 70-year-old.”

— Mrs. Walter Cronkite

This will doubtless offend the “no-means-no” purists, but I think it’s funny:

Running errands this morning, The Nymph and I were walking though the parking lot of the local department store. There was a pickup truck with camper shell there with a rather dirty back window. Over on the right somebody had used his finger to scribble the boring classic: “Wash me.”

But I liked rather better what was inscribed on the left:

“I wish my wife was this dirty.”

Everybody knows this, of course, but it’s rare to see a person of the pretty girl persuasion admitting it:

The majority opinion seems to be that through both a lucky spin on the genetic roulette wheel, and a lot of diligent care and maintenance, I am a Pretty Girl. And as I move through the everyday world, that’s made my life easier on thousands of different occasions. University administrators, traffic cops, doormen, job interviewers and employers, apartment managers, auto mechanics, waiters, taxi drivers, hotel clerks these are just a few of the types of men who’ve overlooked small transgressions, given me extra perks, or somehow gone out of their way for me because I’m a Pretty Girl.

But here’s the really fascinating part — this particular Pretty Girl understands why it works. No, Officer Doughnut-Gut doesn’t really think she’ll sleep with him if he lets her off with a warning. But what he does get is worthy:

I gave those men nothing except my smile and wow-you-are-such-a-great-guy gratitude. And most of the time I was perfectly sincere if someone gives me a break, especially when I know I don’t necessarily deserve it, I am grateful to them. So I show them a picture of themselves in my eyes, surrounded by a rosy glow of Great-Guyness.

And that, Pretty Girl, is not “nothing.”

The market for blog entries about bukkake has been sorely underserved ever since The Reverse Cowgirl folded her blog. (We are still miffed that she vanished without so much as a farewell entry, but there it is.) Still, this humble sex blog fills her footsteps when it can. Herewith: a bukkake song.