The Beautiful Kind

Of course we ALL find Precious Moments figurines annoying, but do you ever get sick of all those romantic Lladro figurines featuring a bride and groom, a mother reading to her child, or two children feeding ducks? What feelings are these pieces supposed to evoke - “Awww that’s sweet” ? A little too vapid for me.

Enter Barnaby Barford (what a great name!), a hip young British artist whose ceramic work will have you looking twice. This one is called “Oh Please Can We Keep It Mummy?!” Other pieces include a horse cock, Hugh Hefner, car wrecks, and a plan for world domination.

Saw this pic on a site called ErosBlog, whose tagline is “Sex Blogging, Gratuitous Nudity, Kinky Sex, Sundry Sensuality.” The main page features a bondage website that offers live feeds of its shoots…

God don’t you just LOVE when you’re driving home late at night after having your way with a sexy man, and his scent and the musky smell of sex is all mingled and heady as it swirls around you, and you replay the hot moments and sigh and sniff your fingers?

God I love that.

I’ve been browsing escort ads online and have noticed that many of the women call money “roses” or “gems,” as in, “300 roses will get you a true GFE.” (GFE is “Girlfriend Experience.” How dumb is that? I guess a “Girlfriend Experience” is preferable to a “Wife Experience”, since a girlfriend won’t let you eat her pussy but will have sex with you, and a wife won’t fuck you at all…but wouldn’t a “Lover Experience” be better?!)

Anyway, unlike the Netherlands or New Zealand, prostitution is illegal here, so I asked my lawyer friend about the stupid code words, and he said:

Because hookers all have honorary law degrees, they think that it affords them legal protection to refer to their fee as a “gift” or “donation,” to refer to dollars as “roses” or “jewels,” and to specify that the customer is paying for their time rather than the services they provide during that time. They are wrong. This provides no legal protection.

Word to the wise!

So I was chatting via the internet with My Dear One who lives in Japan, and she said, “Just look at all these hot Japanese men I have to choose from!” She forwarded me this email with pics of all these guys she has had interaction with off this dating website. There were 14 men, some younger, some older, some professional, some artsy, some wild. It was kind of like scrolling down this website for gay Japanese men - so much fun! Like a man candy store.

Anyway, we went back and forth on who was the cutest, who had the pervert gleam in his eye, (”He looks the type who would lick his fingers after sticking them up your bum, dontcha think?”) who seemed artistic, who seemed insane. I asked her, “So who are you thinking of getting with?”

“Not sure yet,” she replied, then added matter of factly, “But I would suck all their cocks if I could.”

Here are three parties I want to attend but not necessarily host, but will if I have to:

- Office Space Party. BYOF (Bring Your Own Flair). A water cooler will be placed in the center of the room to encourage discussion about sports or TV shows. Movie to play silently in the background. Everyone has to dress professionally. All men must wear a tie. A dry erase board will be present for writing filthy words and pictures. Performance reviews will be conducted. Food to be catered by Chevy’s or TGI Friday’s. A new dance will be invented called “The Cubicle.” Everyone must drink surreptitiously via flasks or styrofoam coffee cups. Tic Tacs will be available in candy dishes to represent anti-depressant medication. Games will include “Pin the Post-It Notes on the Genitals,” “Office Bingo,” and “Find the Stapler.” Whoever finds the hidden stapler gets to smash the fax machine out back.

- Blue Moon Party. To be held on the evening that the second full moon appears in a single calendar month. 1935 film to play silently in the background. Everyone must wear all blue. Music selection to feature any song with the words “blue” or “moon.” Blue Moon beer served. Blue cheese and moon pies as hors d’oeuvres. Slow dancing 1950’s style only. Anything done “once in a blue moon” encouraged, such as anal sex, getting high, or getting in a fistfight.

- Pink Flamingos Party. Everyone must dress as trashy as possible. Movie to play loudly and incessantly. Gay porn to play on another TV in the house. “A Date With John Waters” CD to play in another part of the house. Pink flamingo decorations. Thrift store mannequins to supplement as guests. Hard boiled eggs and brownies shaped as dog shit served as appetizers. Psychadelic drugs and toe sucking encouraged. A moment of silence observed for Divine. Games will include “How Filthy Can You Be?” “Impersonate Your Favorite Celebrity Death” and “Fuck the Chicken.” “Singing Asshole” competition to be held. Prize is a miniature electric chair.

A friend made me a mixed CD. I had no idea how much I like the song Rhinestone Cowboy.

First Dixie Chicks, now this. Am I going country?!

Just you wait - next thing you know, you’ll be seeing Dolly Parton featured on this blog…

I read this brilliant essay by Patton Oswalt in 3-25’s NYTimes magazine. It’s brilliant because I’m the most anti-gun person around, so I avoid things that have to do with guns, including articles about how great they are. But the word “yoga” was also in the title, and I like that, so I took a cautious peek. Check out this excerpt:

Shooting guns and taking yoga on the same day was the biggest “You got chocolate in my peanut butter!” moment I’ve had so far in my life. Guns and yoga are French fries dipped in a milkshake. Scotch and ginger ale. Elvis Costello’s “This Year’s Model” after a bad breakup. Reruns of “Law and Order” and having no life; they’re good together.

Patton thinks someone should open a shooting range/yoga studio combo. This is similar to my idea of a pet sitting/escort service combo. Or converting all churches to libraries. Or having a kid-friendly cocktail bar - who needs a stiff drink more than a parent? The kids can have a play area and have kitty cocktails and nojitos (alcohol-free mojitos) and the parents can schmooze behind sound-proof glass in a swank, toy-free setting.