July 27th, 2003 -- by Bacchus
Arc de Triomphe
Here’s a new statue that we really really need for Washington, DC. Wouldn’t this be an ideal backdrop for John Ashcroft’s podium-thumping speeches?
The Sex Blog Of Record
July 27th, 2003 -- by Bacchus
Girl Talk
From a coffee klatch account at Merripan’s Note, this good-natured and ever-so-mature observation:
Kate and I had a few off-to-the-side conversations of our own about our own respective issues, and we came to the conclusion that, in general, boys are stupid, and they need to have rocks thrown at them. So there, neener-neener.
Sounds to me like these ladies need to get together with Doxie, who is of the “tie them to trees” school of thought.
July 26th, 2003 -- by Bacchus
Yogi The Depraved Bear
This song will start your day off just right!
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July 26th, 2003 -- by Bacchus
I’ve Got a Knock-Knock Joke
It’s really funny. Ok, you start:
“Who’s there?”
July 26th, 2003 -- by Bacchus
How To Fuck Up Polyamory
I’ll come right out and say it, I’ve never understood polyamory. To be blunt, I’m not incredibly facile at building and maintaining loving relationships with one person at a time. (Yes, folks, Bacchus is available, and has been for… well… crap, I’m out of fingers and toes, uh… er, for a long time.) Start upping the numbers, and in my limited experience, things get ugly fast.
That “experience”, I will confess, consists of only one single train of events, which unfolded over two years and involved five friends of mine, three of them quite close friends. By the end of the matter two previously happy couplings were history, and I had witnessed a wedding, two divorces, one suicide attempt, several more contemplated suicides, and many many many hours of anguished conversation and tearful soul searching. Nobody, and I do mean nobody, appeared to enjoy much of this process, although the central figure is, or was when last heard from, happily living in a poly family and community on a different coast.
Now, that said, I’m sympathetic to the idea of polyamory. It’s just that I’m pessimistic about its prospects and stability. So I tend to be drawn to accounts of poly lifestyles, and I try to be polite about the fact that my fascination is akin to the fascination of a train-loving bystander at a really juicy train wreck.
Ever since I first linked to Lilith’s Note of the Day, I have noticed that Lilith has interesting stuff to say about the poly lifestyle. Her blog, and the network of linked blogs of some of the people dear to her, make for fascinating reading, at least if you are interested in human relationships and the rich complex ways in which they overlap.
All of which is by way of incredibly long-winded introduction to this item, entitled simply “How to Fuck Up” by Elise Matthesen. Lilith notes that this helpful guide has been circulating since 1997, but she doesn’t personally think it’s gotten quite enough exposure. Of the nine enumerated methods for fucking up, I saw at least seven put to effective use during the one poly train wreck I witnessed. So I’d have to agree, a little more exposure couldn’t hurt. Go read it already, it’s full of gems like Method One:
1. Lie. This is basic and effective. To maximize bad results, lie about something important to the other person(s) and arrange to be caught in the lie in such a way as to produce maximum shock. Additional stress points awarded for keeping the lie going for a while before discovery, which increases the disorientation and sense of betrayal in the deceived person(s). Lying about sex gets double points. Lying about being married gets triple fuck-up points. Creative lies of omission (i.e. “not telling”) with fancy rationalizations and condescension get gold stars.
And now it’s truly the deep dark middle of the night, and time for sleep.
[links removed due to ancient rot]
July 26th, 2003 -- by Bacchus
Olfactory Delights
Michelle at Sweetness Follows bought a new dildo, and Mike, well, this is what Mike did:
“Slipped it in nice and slow, and teased her with it, giving her it in small portions, till the whole thing was inside her.
Tried out the new bottle of lube she bought, slipped my finger in her ass, and she moaned that it was on “that spot”. Kept rubbing, and fucked her with her toy, and well, she squirted.
Love that taste – still smell it on my fingers a bit…”
It’s funny, word is some women don’t like guys to lick them because they worry about the taste and smell. I can’t understand this, there’s nothing better in all the world. When I’ve got that lovely girl scent all over my face and chin and so forth, I can’t bring myself to wash my face. I’ll walk around all day, catching hints of that smell at unexpected moments and grinning like a fool every time.
Trust me, ladies — it’s not a problem.
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July 25th, 2003 -- by Bacchus
Losing Track Of The Plot
When reading manga, sometimes you just have to focus on the details, and be damned to the plot:
