Somewhere there’s a dungeon, a dank and airless place with a heavy door that’s been nailed shut. We have decided to consign our respective timorous intellectual selves thereunto (where presumably they may eyeball each other suspiciously from their respective corners, or arm-wrestle for scraps of stale bread) while we get on with the fun part of confirming whether we like each other as much (so impossibly much) as it seems we do.

She’s coming to visit, the good Lord willin’ and the crick don’t rise, sometime very early in the new year.

And she’s worried that she’s going too fast for ME! That’s a good sign if I ever saw one. I’ve reassured her as best as I’m able. Perhaps when she sees me tell a thousand or so of you, gentle readers, that I can’t wait, she’ll believe me better.

I can’t wait.

{looking around my pit of a cave of a living space with dawning horror} “By Aphrodite’s dirty nightie, I need to start cleaning up around here!”

Here’s one of those “news” stories that’s more an illustration of parental terror and the power of hearsay than anything to be taken seriously. The only source for this information is “according to a local television station” and “some teens told the station” – not a named source to be found. If there’s any truth to the tale, I’m betting it’s a tiny kernal indeed. Nonetheless, here’s how the story goes, and don’t miss the fear-mongering headlines:

‘Sex Bracelets’ Cause Parental Concern
Some Teens Said To Use Bracelets To Signal Sexual Intentions

A fashion accessory may have a lot more meaning than you realize for your teenager, according to television station WCAU.

Jelly bracelets are making a comeback. But instead of a fashion statement, they may be making a statement about your kid’s sex life, the station said.
…
Only this time these jelly bracelets have a new nickname: sex bracelets.

These bendable pieces of colorful rubber have a whole new unwholesome meaning: They’re a sexual code to many teens, WCAU said.

Some colors mean different things, and people wear them for that reason.

Here’s a common breakdown, from what teens told the station:

Yellow: hugging
Purple: kissing
Red: lap dance
Blue: oral sex
Black: the full monty

In a game called snap, if a boy breaks a jelly bracelet off a girl’s wrist, he basically gets a sexual coupon for that act.

It’s become such a problem in some middle schools in Florida that districts started banning the bracelets.

In a real news story, that last sentence would have been followed by, like, you know, identifying one of those districts and having a quote from a named administrator thereof talking about the dire need to prevent fornication in the hallways.

So, does anybody know the real rules to the game of snap?

Isn’t this a pretty pair?

And look closely at the features of the women. Mother and daughter?

From all the buzz about Fleshbot lately, one would think it was a revolutionary new thing. They describe themselves as “a frequently updated web magazine” that “showcases all the porn that digital technology and distribution has made possible.”

In fact, it appears to be a sort of stylish cross between the ancient and venerable linksite and an illustrated sex blog like this one – except, of course, that unlike ErosBlog, Fleshbot was clearly put together by someone who knows how to design websites (as opposed to sticking them together with cargo cult HTML, voodoo CSS, stale bubblegum, and cussing, the way ErosBlog was built). With Fleshbot’s high volume of quality links (15 so far today – obviously this is a business venture and no mere hobby), keen eye for quality porn, and intelligent text descriptions, the site’s bound to be a smashing runaway success. Good work, please keep it up!

Let the record reflect that the fully charged battery in the handset of a vtech 8L55 cordless phone – one purchased expressly for the purpose of facilitating phone calls with The Nymph – lasts no more than approximately seven hours.

Obviously I should have bought the model with dual handsets.

On the bright side, flat rate unmetered long distance calling plans are A Good Thing.

ThatGirl asks: Sexy or Slutty?

Recently, on a date, I made a move that I still can’t believe.
…
I interrupted him and excused myself for a trip to the ladies’ room. I didn’t need to use it I had ulterior motives. Gone was the resolve to behave. I wanted him. I needed an unmistakable invitation. (I like to be a little more creative than just blurting out “Let’s go to my place and fuck!” although that does have its own unique charm )

Once in the stall, I pushed my pants and panties down to my knees, bent over slightly, and slipped my index finger into my cunt all the way. A few thrusts later, I pulled it out and slowly drew it up over my clit. I rearranged my clothes and returned to the bar.

Wordlessly, I slid onto the barstool and grinned slyly at him. I reached up and placed my finger against his lips.

“Taste.” Was all I said.

Just had one of those odd little conversations with strangers where you learn more than you expected. A new face behind the deli counter – a personable and well-spoken young man – made a polite inquiry about the weather as he handed over my egg rolls. I replied, and from there our conversation went something like this:

Him: “They warned me when I moved to this town a month ago that the weather would be like this.”

Me: “What brought you to town?”

Him: “My girlfriend.” No noticeable enthusiasm on his face or in his voice.

Me: “I hope she’s worth it.”

Him, sounding glum: “Yeah, I hope so too.”

Ouchies!