It’s time for some erotic art to lighten things up. I believe the art is by Fameni:

Care to speculate what’s in the picture the young man is looking at?

The Village Voice (popup warning!) lampoons the ridiculous straw man (straw dog?) argument opponents of gay marriage prefer to raise rather than treat with the issue on its merits. This is no mere “attack-the-looniest-conservative-you-can-find” lefty smear job; the article found more than a thousand examples of this meme in Lexis-Nexis, and cites five prominent politicians and four prominent religious figures who have worried publicly about this pressing and terrible problem. I’m with author Richard Goldstein: “I hadn’t realized that so many men of God are worried about folks helping sheep through the fence.”

Thanks to Daze for the link, and to Goldstein for the punning word “petaphilia”. Does that have anything to do with this, I wonder?

I suppose it’s a little surprising it took all this time for the fire and brimstone brigade to come around here. In case you missed it, my comments were graced with this lovely sentiment, unburdened by any actual discussion of or engagement with the topic of my post:

“Whosoever was not found written in the book of life was cast into the lake of fire.”

Which is from Revelations 20:15, although the commenter with the barbecue fetish was apparently too busy visualizing roasted human flesh to bother saying so. Having assumed, for blogging purposes, the identity of the Roman god of intoxication and orgies, I naturally find this sort of badly-directed preaching to be at least as funny as Io in her heifer suit.

Although this particular sex blog is not the place for discussions of Christian religion, me being neither Christian nor convertible, there’s no particular reason why sex blogs (even kinky ones) can’t handle the subject with grace, intelligence, and wit when it comes up. Alas, that’s apparently too much to expect from the littering pamphleteers with the sulphurous savor of burning flesh in their nostrils.

Carly at Pornblography quotes Earnest Greene:

Thirteen is the new eighteen, and has been for a decade. By 18, most young adults are already sexually active and have been for some time. Better nutrition and pediatric medicine have been steadily lowering the age of first menstruation among American girls to the current record-breaking average of age 11. It’s just preposterous to expect young people to remain sexually inactive for SEVEN YEARS after the onset of puberty.

Preposterous indeed, as I noted some time ago in a discussion about the merits of porn.

This morning at ErosBlog Central I was pouring my second cup of coffee when The Nymph began to wake up.

So I wandered over to the bed to kiss her. After that essential business was taken care of, I was standing by the bed, sipping my coffee, and watching her wake up as we made desultory conversation. (Also, I was amusing myself by tugging at the sheet she was attempting, fruitlessly, to cover herself with.)

I ask her: “So what do you want to do today?”

A: “I need to go to the store.”

Q: “Oh yeah? What for?” (Translation for aliens: “What items do you need to go to the store to get?”)

A: “I need a couple of items.”

Whereupon your researcher abandoned all further attempts to communicate with this alien via ordered sound waves. Instead, I rousted her from her nest by vigorous application of this essential tool to the bottoms of her feet.

She had it coming. No male jury would convict me.

Over at Smitten she writes about an event I’m always pleased to be present for — but what in the painted deserts of Barsoom is she talking about?

I can’t imagine why any of you boys like to look down.

1. Well, first there’s the whole breathing issue. If you have any luck at all with genetics or pills, she won’t be doing much of it through her mouth. Leaving only the nose for that overrated O2 exchange, I’d hope hers isn’t stopped up all of the time like mine is, as this will make her even shorter of breath. I find myself making little gasps every few moments, like when you are swimming underwater and you come up to the surface for just a split-second before you go back under. Sexy, eh?
2. Then, of course, there’s the suction. Let’s say you’re really enjoying a lollipop, and you pull it from your mouth quickly (like when you have to gasp for air), it makes almost a popping noise from the pressure released.
3. Additionally, your mouth waters, since you have likely activated your digestive system by putting something in your mouth, and taking quick breaths with a watery mouth makes that’s right slurping noises.
4. And let’s not forget the gag reflex; the majority of us who are not ‘independent art film actresses’ still have one. When I gag, my whole body lurches a little, forward, which causes, that’s right more gagging.
5. Plus, there’s the crying. I have the most sensitive eyes in the world, I cry when I laugh, I cry when I’m mad, and I find little tears forming when I’m working really really hard at pulling a golf ball through a garden hose. Sometimes they even spill over. In joy, of course, pure joy. Eventually all of this effort, and crying, will loosen something in my nasal passage, and I will begin to sniffle.

Given all the gasping, suction noises, slurping, lurching, gagging, crying and sniffling, you really have one indelicate and kind of gross girl kneeling in front of you. But you boys never seem to mind.

1. Gasping. Sexy. This is news?
2. Suction noises. Sexier. Sex noise is always hot.
3. Slurping. This is supposed to be a catalog of undesirables?
4. Gagging. OK, not sexy. But the lurching? We thought you were just lunging forward so you could fit more in your mouth. That’s sexy. 
5. Crying. Haven’t seen this one. (I’m imagining six macho guys out there saying “Dude, you never made her cry? You must have a tiny wiener.”)

Mind? What’s to mind?

Speaking of pretty eyes and smile:

Found this on Usenet. Don’t you just love the cute turn-of-the-century ringlets?