I missed this at Christmas, but it’s too funny not to link up anyway. From Hoot Island, an essay on Christmas blowjobs:

Ladies, does this sound familiar?

You try and try to ask your man what he wants for Christmas. You hint and you wheedle and you watch for signs, but no matter how you ask he just shrugs and says some some smartass comment like “A blowjob, why?”

Isn’t that just like a guy? You ask him a serious question and he answers with some lame toss-off answer like that. Well, speaking for guys around the world, I’m here to reveal the sincere and honest truth:

We’re serious. We really do want a blowjob.

There follows a long and amusing list of arguments in favor of Christmas blowjobs, my favorite of which is: “Every time you swallow, an angel gets her wings.”

I’m a pop culture illiterate, so it doesn’t surprise me that I’ve never heard of Michelle Branch or her music. That notwithstanding, Diablo from Pussy Ranch made me howl with laughter when she wrote:

This month’s Maxim cover features a half-naked Michelle Branch shielding her tender young breasts from a Photoshopped pillar of leaping flames. “Barbecutie!” the cover cleverly blares. I’ll bet earnest little Michelle Branch never thought she’d be likened to a McRib on the cover of a lad mag. She can strum a D chord, after all! She’s better than this, ostensibly! She wrote the theme song to Sorority Life, not that I pay attention to such things!
…
However, either Michelle’s asscrack has been airbrushed into nonexistence by Maxim’s art department, or she is, in fact, lacking a cleft between her buttocks. If the latter scenario is true, then we can assume that Michelle Branch cannot pass solid waste. That’s sad. Imagine you’re in the studio, recording your latest opus, and those knob-twiddlers from Maverick are pestering you. And all you can think is: I need to crap so bad. I wish I hadn’t loaned my colostomy bag to Madonna.

I suppose it’s that kind of urgency that creates truly exquisite, D chord-driven albums.

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

Brrr….

And one box of Ramen in her cupboards, I don’t doubt:

It’s hard to imagine a more embarrassing situation, especially given the impossibility of fleeing the scene:

A RANDY couple on a holiday jet were cheered by 250 passengers when they were exposed bonking in the loo.

The lovers sneaked into a tiny cubicle during a four-hour flight home from Tenerife.

When the 757’s cabin crew noticed it had been engaged for more than 15 minutes, a steward went to investigate.

After hearing grunts and groans through the door, he decided to unlock it from the outside and revealed the naked couple in mid-romp.

One passenger by the loo said: “There was a woman facing the wall and her companion standing behind with his trousers round his ankles.

“When they realised someone had opened the door, they just froze.

“And when it dawned on them that half the aeroplane was watching, their faces went beetroot red.

There were at least 60 of us in stitches. Even the three cabin staff burst out laughing.”

The couple in their late thirties then got a round of applause as they made their way back to their seats.

From The Sun via J. Orlin Grabbe.

Tristan Taormino writes of a class she gave at a swinger convention in the Big Easy:

The transforming moment for me came in my class on G-spot stimulation and female ejaculation when over a hundred people crammed themselves into a small room to hear me talk. I took advantage of the venue and offered a hands-on section at the end of the class. The next thing I knew, women were dropping their drawers, lube was being passed around, and I was moving from one pussy to the next. One woman in her sixties confessed that orgasms eluded her most of the time. When I got done with her, she was coming like a banshee, and her husband was taking notes on my technique. I located the G-spots of more than two dozen women, and made sure to show their partners how to find them.

Nothing like getting right to heart of the matter!

When I enabled comments, I explained “I welcome your comments, but I’m simply not interested in creating a forum for haters, condemnators, repressive creeps, and the like.”

I hate to have to repeat this, but there’s been a few comments consisting of nothing more than condemnatory phrases like “that’s sick” or “that’s wrong.” I’ve been deleting them along with all the spammy “come visit my site” comments, but I’d prefer not to have to do that. Empty condemnation has no place here. I simply refuse to let ErosBlog become a forum for condemning other people’s kinks.

That is all.