On Tuesday Red Headed Slut wrote:

have i mentioned how wonderful this product is? you HAVE to run out and get a tube of johnson’s baby oil gel.

if you use it as a lubricant when giving hand jobs, i guarantee you will please you partner like never before. it just has the perfect consistency, isn’t too greasy and doesn’t dry up! plus it’s amazing as a moisturizer for yourself as well :)

She said I had to get a tube, so I did. I’m a good little media consumer, I can never ignore a compelling advertising message. And she’s right – the consistency is pretty nifty, it’s a little greasy but not too, and indeed it does not dry up.

The predictable downside she did not mention: it smells like babies.

Crystal met a stranger at a party. But he had a knack for not staying a stranger:

Again he leaned toward me for a hug, and this time I was somewhat better prepared. He held me in a full body embrace, and my face landed right in the crook of his neck. I inhaled deeply of the sweet smell of some sort of hair product mixed with a slighty musky odor. We stood there for a few moments more than what would be considered the average for someone just met.

As the seconds ticked by I found myself feeling as though I could fall in love with him. Indeed I believe that I was in love for that moment. Of course I know next to nothing about him. But he smelled good, hugged well, and allowed me to fall into the universe between his ear and collarbone.

An astute viewer points out that the dwarves in the previous post are, evidently, dwarves of the Judeo-Christian persuasion, judging by the snipped-ness of their privates. Is someone paying too much attention?

Another astute viewer suggests that the artist may be one Julius Zimmerman, and a quick Google turns up this astonishing collection of eighty-four galleries of art very similar in style. Thanks for the info!

This is more explicit that we usually go here at Eros Blog, but I can’t sleep and I’m in no mood to worry about anyone’s tender sensibilities. This is a hot drawing and I’d really appreciate if someone could tell me who the artist is so I could give appropriate credit.

I always did think mining had much to recommend it as a profession. All that exploring of warm damp tunnels, all those stone shafts…

Update: Of course it’s Zimmerman.

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I’m in the doghouse over that last post. To my surprise and utter dismay, it made some people angry. I’m trying to sort it out via email, and I’ll provide an update if and when I have something useful to add. Meanwhile, I’m sorry for any offense the post gave. None was intended.

The Dirty Whore has a post up about why she uses such an edgy name, along with an email address that starts “filthy cumslut”. She writes:

I want you to take a small risk when you come here. I want you to think and feel when you read my blog. I want you to be provoked sometimes. I want you to disagree with me. I want you to learn something about yourself and the way you feel about sex – that’s more important than what you absorb about me.

We got a lot of guys in this country who are scared of sex. It makes them feel sick, it makes them feel dirty, it makes them feel vulnerable which in their minds is only one step away from being gay, and yes they have a problem with that. And so, in their minds, any woman who likes sex, who revels in it and has fun at it and squirts joyously at the finish, is a cunt, a slut, a whore. And they use these words, in daily conversation and with considerable venom.

In my experience nice guys, guys who love sex and love women who love sex, don’t use these words much, don’t even think them except with an ironic smile or while recreating bad porno for the fun of it. Guys who own these words, who use them as basic vocabulary with all connotations accepted, who address them to women as titles, these are bitter guys, scared guys, angry guys, unhappy guys. Guys with an axe to grind and no loving woman to grind it with. Guys who lie in the locker room.

For reasons still unclear, Dirty Whore is telling us all, by exercising her natural monopoly over her own namespace, “if you want to talk to me, or about me, you have to pretend to be one of those bitter angry scared broken guys.”

Well, OK, she’s interesting and often worth talking about. If that’s the risk premium she charges as the price for addressing her namespace, I can pay it. Them as knows me know I’m not one of those guys anyway, and I’m not a huge believer in worrying about other people’s opinions in the first place. Nor did a little role-playing ever hurt anyone.

But I worry that she might also be saying “I think every guy is one of those guys, and that’s what I want you to learn about yourself.” In which case, sorry, no, but it’s not true, the shoe doesn’t fit and I won’t wear it. And I’m very sorry if her experiences have made her come to feel that way.

Here’s an awesome free archive of the classic sexy comic strip “Oh Wicked Wanda!” Sample:

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