..Porn Gadgets! Just in case you didn’t get what you wanted on the most commercial of holidays, fret not for the future of porn is here. EroticVision.TV is an adult content provider who is teaming up with participating adult websites to provide streaming content previously restricted to your computer screen, on your TV. Basically, the EroticVision.TV application works by connecting to a Roku Digital Video Player which then converts internet HD content to that which can be displayed on your TV. There are the expected controls to prevent kids or the very prude from stumbling onto your favorite raunchy scenes, and the makers of the application say the technology is not just for porn but can possibly allow all types of online content to be viewed from the comfort of the La-Z-Boy.
My birthday is in August but it’s never too early, you know……
This morning a column was sent to me, reminding me that long time journalist and Pulitzer Prize winning columnist, Ellen Goodman was hanging it up. As we all turn our sights to the new year and the prospects it might bring, it’s worth the time to think about what and who has come before us.
“BOSTON — It is one of those moments when I feel like a time traveler. I look out the airplane window and watch a young woman on the tarmac directing our jet to its gate. As she waves the signals, I fall into a silent, familiar reverie: “I remember when.”
What I remember, of course, is a time when no woman would have been hired for this “man’s job.” What I remember is when my generation opened the door for hers. If I talked to her about the old days, I wonder, would she listen as politely as if I were talking about walking four miles in the snow to school?
I am time traveling these days because on Jan. 1 I’ll be ending my tenure as a syndicated columnist. While my colleagues are busily sizing up the decade with lists—Twitter in; Tiger out—I’m quietly sizing up the last four decades.
Cleaning up the office, I found a clipping from 1969 when, as a young reporter, I was sent to cover this brand new phenomenon called the women’s movement. The next Sunday, I picked up the paper and was stunned to find a one-word banner headline over my byline: WOMEN.
The editor’s note explained: “Today’s Sunday Globe attempts to fathom this phenomenon of the female revolution.”
My own story said that “a female revolution is sweeping the land, in some cases subtle and unspoken, in others dramatic and defiant.” This brazen decision—on the day after the Manson killings no less—to lead The Boston Globe with WOMEN jeopardized the editor’s career but redirected my own. Ever since then, from my perch as an observer, I’ve tracked this story—WOMEN—more consistently than anything else.
How to sum up the time and distance we’ve traveled? Advance and backlash? Forward march and stall-out?
Today, half the law students and medical students are female. But only 15 of the Fortune 500 companies have female CEOs. We had the first serious woman candidate run for president—and lose. We had a mother of five, a governor and a Title IX baby run for vice president—as a conservative.
The Equal Rights Amendment was defeated because people were scared into believing that women could end up in combat. Now nearly a quarter-million women have served in Iraq and Afghanistan, 120 have died, 650 have been wounded. But still no ERA. (more…)
Here we are again at that magical time of year, full of sales and commercialism and fucking Lexus commercials (seriously, I don’t know ONE person who has ever gifted or been gifted a fucking Lexus and I know a lot of people) and there you are fretting about what to give someone that they will actually use, while that same person is wrapping a Bath & Body Works gift set or a Bananagrams Word Game for you. Now, I know you’re not ungrateful for such treasures, but come on now, you know as well as I do that more often than not you end up with shit you don’t need and will never use.
Whether it’s a lazy effort by the gifter or just a gift you personally find hideous but are too polite (or otherwise indebted) to say so, every year people the world over end up with shit they ain’t never gonna use. Enter Darilnica (The Gift Shop).
The Gift Shop opened this month in Slovenia and is run by four young, unpaid women for the purpose of finding a good home for all unwanted gifts. Presents that are brought in are photographed then wrapped and place under a tree with the photos on the wall above. There are no prices set on any of the gifts, and the idea is that you bring in a gift you don’t want and trade it for something there. In the first week of opening, about 200 gifts have already been swapped and the women expect more traffic after the holidays.
This is a great idea and if anyone is running over to Slovenia I have a clip-on dashboard fan, 2 chain wallets, a ceramic dirigible and a knitted yarn thong to swap.
So lately I have been seeing someone. He started it; I was minding my own business and just doing my job but he doggedly pursued me in a very charming and engaging way. Before I met him, I was quite happy not putting myself out there to meet new men, and really not willing to enter into the world of dating at all. My three-times-a-year booty call with the kind and devoted SatinBalls was enough.
But this dashing guy wore me down, and I have sort of fallen for him.
And now I live in terror. Since the courtship began, we have been in almost steady contact via e-mail or text message. The other night, he disappeared, and it was bad for me. Even though he’d told me what he was doing that night and that he was out for a Christmas drinkup with his office mates, the old fears returned: He’s lying. He’s fooling around. He doesn’t like me anymore. He’s got other chicks; I’m just one in a cast of dozens. I’ve done something to turn him off.
Thankfully, I didn’t do anything stupid — IE, I refrained from sending any pathetic messages — and just went to sleep. I woke up to several affectionate messages at the end of his night. We saw each other later that day, and everything was marvellous and filled with fun and laughter. But when I sent him an e-mail last night telling him to drive carefully back home for the holidays today, I did the cool thing and said: “Enjoy your time with your family. Don’t be obliged to be in touch!” And he basically replied: “OK, thanks!”
And now I am quietly freaking out again. I actually think I said it to begin with to give him an out so that if I DON’T hear from him, I can say: “Well, I did tell him not get in touch!” because it would be too painful if he just simply wasn’t in touch. I don’t know if I was hoping he’d reply: “Don’t be silly, you daft cow (he’s British). Of course I’ll be in touch.” But what I wasn’t expecting was an “OK, thanks!”
Do I have a Daniel Cleaver on my hands? Was it the chase, and now that I’ve been caught, the thrill is gone? Or am I completely over-reading all of this?
And this is why I HATE HATE HATE HATE dating. All the fears and self-doubts! All the ghosts of relationships past coming back to fuck with your head!! All the anxiety!! I don’t know how you young’uns do it; I just have no stomach for it at all.
p.s. How hilarious is that Bridget Jones photo above. You know what my lifelong problem is? I am always, always more turned on by the Daniel Cleavers than the Mark Darcys.
Heidi Fleiss couldn’t do it, but it seems the Shady Lady can. Last weekend it was announced that Nevada brothel, The Shady Lady Ranch, will be the first to offer the services of male prostitutes to it’s clientele. Christmas done come early, y’all!
The owner of a brothel more than two hours’ drive from Las Vegas said she hopes to hire Nevada’s first legal male prostitutes within a month, now that state health officials have approved a method to test men for infectious diseases.
The world is ready for women, or even other men, to legally buy sex, said Shady Lady Ranch owner Bobbi Davis. Plus, being the first to offer male service could boost business in tough economic times, she said.
“With so many other male revues going on in Vegas, we thought it was time to give this a try,” Davis told The Associated Press.
Until now, men have been effectively barred from legally plying the world’s oldest profession in Nevada by the specificity of a state health law requiring prostitutes to undergo frequent cervical testing for sexually transmitted diseases.
The health board approved a regulation to allow urethral testing for men _ a crucial rule change by the state agency with ultimate power over whether prostitutes can or can’t work.
For more than 25 years, no licensed female prostitute in Nevada has contracted HIV, the virus that causes AIDS, said George Flint, a Reno wedding chapel owner and longtime lobbyist for the Nevada Brothel Owners Association.
“My concern is that we continue to maintain that kind of record,” he said.
Davis, Flint and Nye County Sheriff Tony DeMeo all acknowledged Friday that Davis still needs county approval to become the first of the state’s 24 legal brothels to offer a lineup of men.
“We’re going to look at it. We have some concerns,” said DeMeo, who serves as a voting member of both a county health commission and a board that oversees alcohol, gambling and brothel licenses.
“The ramifications of this are going to be statewide,” he said. “We’re going to have to deal with it at our other six brothels in Nye County if they want to offer the same service. We want to make sure we protect customers and make sure the industry is regulated with clarity and understanding.”
Prostitution has been legal in rural Nevada counties since 1971 under strict state health board oversight but is against the law in the Las Vegas and Reno areas.
Flint said he feared the idea of male prostitutes serving male clients could spur a legislative backlash. He said he works to make the brothel industry socially acceptable to both libertarians and conservatives.
“I think the Legislature is really going to give me some heartburn over this,” Flint said in a telephone interview after appearing before the state Health Board in Carson City on Friday to endorse the Shady Lady proposal.
“But I think it’s an inevitability,” he added, “and the brothel association has reluctantly agreed to support this as a test.”
Davis said she wants to add two men to the three women she currently has living and working at her compound of trailers off U.S. 95 about 150 miles northwest of Las Vegas.
She said the women usually charge about $300 per hour for the five to 20 customers who visit on any given night.
“We don’t know how to structure the men’s pricing yet,” Davis said. (more…)
I don’t think the website Some Ugly Baby is here to encourage baby bodysnarking. I regard it more as a celebration of those odd babies out who don’t quite fit the Gerber baby mold, those babies that make stangers bite their tongues, those babies that defy convention in their own unknowing way. I am a fan of the unexpected, subversive, ugly baby.
I don’t have a baby of my own, but I believe I would know if my infant was ugly (maybe, maybe not). An ugly baby doesn’t mean an ugly adult – it’s obviously a transitional phase that predicts little about a child’s looks in the long-term, which is why I’m not too bothered by how amusing I find ugly babies. That said, I am always sort of weirded out when I see little kids and can visualize exactly what they’re going to look like in middle age.
This is definitely a middle-aged baby. A lot of babies look like old men, of course, especially the brand-new ones. (more…)
Yesterday, my hometown of Houston, Texas became the largest US city to elect an openly gay mayor. Former Houston city councilwoman and city controller, Annise Parker defeated former city attorney, Gene Locke with 53% of the vote.
Parker ran on her ability to lead the city out of the recession, and not on a gay rights platform, something which in a way makes the win alternately significant and meaningless (do we want her to do the job or make a statement?). But Houston has always had a very vibrant and (in my opinion) a fairly well supported gay community, especially considering the conservativeness of Texas as a whole. Nevertheless, to win such a high profile position in a city clogged with Big Business (read: Ol Boy Network) is quite a feat. Congratulations to Mayor Parker and to the voters of Harris County!
(Now we just have to see whether or not former mayor Bill White gets the governors spot.)
My child-bearing years are long over, but nothing can make me bawl faster than a baby. That’s why this movie looks awesome to me. I could barely get through the trailer from weeping, but it was worth the sobs to get to the very final scene.
My Friday did not start out happy, in fact, in started out on the wrong fucking foot. I caught some of The Crud and had to half-ass sleep sitting up, then when I got up this morning the first thing I read was a shitty ass email from my mother, with an extra helping of holiday guilt, natch. BUT, it is Friday, Sex Talk Friday, Feel Good Friday, So Over People Who Stress Me Out Friday, whatever as long as it’s GOOD.
Okay? So, only good things in this thread. Good dates, good food, good friends, good plans, good movies, good books, good moments, good everything. My Friday is good because I have a great marriage with a man I dearly love and we will be spending our first Christmas together without the negative rainstorm of my family. I have a roof over my head and the lights on my Christmas tree work, there is food in the pantry and all my bills are paid. I have wonderfully supportive friends who know how to enjoy and be thankful for the positive things in their lives which in turn enriches my life as well. I am in good health, I am 15 lbs lighter, the Packers are securely in the playoff hunt and I have good hopes for the new year. And I have great hair. Now tell me: what’s good with you?
Bless Worth1000, as it never ceases to amaze and often horrify us with contributors’ creatively-manipulated images. After the jump, a collection of Frankenstein’s Animal Hybrids for your Monday. Some are cute, some are creepy, and one in particular will be playing a starring role in my next nightmare (click first image to scroll through gallery). (more…)
