Dudes


I’ve never thought of myself as a girly-girl, or a lightweight in general.  While I don’t spend my weekends camping in a bog or mountain-biking, I have done these things and fared okay, even fancied myself quite rugged at the time.  I’ve hiked up the Continental Divide a few times, gone skeet shooting, and rappelled down a cliff-face or two (not big cliffs, but still).  I have a pair of jeans I’m not afraid to get dirty and I believe there to be a pair of L.L. Bean hiking boots somewhere in the back of my closet.  Sure, the last time I wore the grimy jeans was while putting together a Malm dresser from IKEA, but I own them, don’t I?  If someone wanted to take me duck hunting, for example, I could rustle up the basics (if I went out and bought waders) – even if I wouldn’t ever actually shoot a living thing, per se, my wardrobe contains clothes  in which to not do it!

Basically, while I didn’t grow up on a farm, I have milked a cow and used to ride horses.  I may be citified, but I have some exposure to the elements.  I went to summer camp in Arkansas and Colorado for years, for god’s sakes.  I’ve lost electricity in hurricanes for literally hours.  I am a tough cookie!  Or so I thought, until my boiler went out yesterday.

I live in London right now, and we are in the throes of a pretty cold winter.  It’s been snowing on and off for the last two weeks, and I don’t really hold with snow – it’s all pretty and shit until you have to be somewhere.  Anyway, I’ve been slugging along fine on the tube and trying to keep my outdoor exposure to a minimum, and it’s been fine, or was, until this boiler thing up and died on me like an injured sled dog. (more…)

Advertisements

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!

AP via Las Vegas Sun

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…)

WheresTheBeefHowdy Hookers!

In the interest of fun Friday Sex Talk, I thought we would talk about something a little sensitive, a little personal.  Let’s talk about the smallest penis you have ever seen! (more…)

BCP Reader Missbish asks:

I recently saw this photo of T.I. and there was a lot of commentors who were saying that he should trim that bush yada yada but I found his shrub to be hugely erotic and I could not stop thinking about it. I know – I need to get laid yo, but I wonder – is manscaping what most women want or am I old-skool?

What say you?

TI-Vegas1

kadinsky: check this pic of TI and his crotch ‘fro.  Opinions on that much pube?

Tailfeather: I don’t know who this Mr. TI is, but he looks GOOD, and I am not afraid of his Bermuda.  I say wear it loud and proud.  Although, um, public dick-grabbing is a no-no in general.

kadinsky: is it grabbing if he’s offering?  I say no, there is another pic to go with this one that shows him damn near taking his pants off.  I don’t mind a slightly unruly nappy dugout but that shit looks long enough to floss with.  or braid a rug.

Trixie: There was also that recent EW cover or Ryan Reynolds looking really hairy and it was hot as hell.  I  am FOR. I like men to be manly and that means hairy. I am against all this waxing shit.

kadinsky:  Panda likes the girly men, I bet she is a NAY.

BiscuitDoughJones: Actually, I’m for it.

A) nothing is as gross/creepy as a dude who shaves or waxes.  I’ve been unfortunate enough to snag 2 guys who regularly bald-ified themselves down below.  It’s no coincidence that both of them mentioned how they thought that ‘scaping made the junk look bigger (it didn’t).  Uh, and the stubble down there hurts like hell.

B) The funny thing about pretty boys is that they have no hair anywhere, not on the chest, arms, even legs – but you take off the pants and a lot of times there is a giant power bush.  It’s fucking funny.  And kind of cute.  Like, most dudes I’ve known haven’t been ‘scapers I think because it’s the only upfront sign of virility they have, so they must nurture it.  Or something.

===============================================================================

Well, it looks like I’m all alone on this one – BCP prefers their men au naturale.  What about you?

boners

Thanks to the always ingenious Best Week Ever for pointing us towards this wholly internet-worthy blog, Awkward Boners.  Probably because I don’t have a teenage son whose dignity I am concerned for, this has brought me a dickload of joy today.  Oh, Unwanted Boners.  Thank you for putting men on occasional, equally embarrasing and objectivized footing.  We ladyfolk feel this disconcertingly scrutinized nearly every day!

eyes-blue-brown

Y’all, this is another one of those situations in which I am unsure how much stroppiness is warranted.  The last time I asked for your opinion was not long ago, regarding gay boys and groping, but I have to say this strikes a different level of annoyance.  Here’s how it started:  I was on the phone with my boyfriend, and we were talking about hypothetical babies, as you sometimes do, sort of as a practice run .  You know what I mean:  You sling jokingly awful names at each other (“let’s call a boy Hagar and a girl Millicent”) and rib each other on the worst characteristics with which we’ll endanger our future offspring (“let’s hope they avoid your jug-ears and my manic-depression,” or whatever).

Anyway, this good-hearted ribbing is going very well, until I ask him about his parents’ coloring.  I’ve met them a couple times, but couldn’t pin down their natural hair and eye color, especially as they’re graying a bit.  My own mother, a brown-eyed brunette, told me how surprised she was to have a blonde, blue-eyed baby, so I was drawing on my fragmented recollection of junior high biology to guess what my own spawn would look like if I chose to reproduce with the current boy (who has thick black hair, a red beard when he grows it, and green eyes).  Seriously, I recall that his father has brown eyes and his mother greeny-blue, but it seemed reasonable to ask the guy who has known them for, oh, nearly 30 years.  Could he hazard a guess?  Nerp. (more…)

tarzan_jane_2I went out with a group of about twelve guys on Saturday night, and had a blast.  It was with a mixed international crowd that started off as a relatively grown-up flat-warming party (replete with pink champagne and harbor views), and ended up a peeing-in-the streets bash in Soho.  Conversational topics ranged from the US relationship with Iraq, to French literature, to one-night-stands, and to disturbing anecdotes about Catholic priests.  There was dancing and flirtatious heckling of a hot Brazilian bartender.  Needless to say, at least half of these guys were gay.

There were a few other chicks at the party, but they dropped off as the night went on until I remained last woman drinking.  Because I’d had a long and tiring day, I took it easy and only had about five drinks over the course of many, many hours and so was probably more sober than I would generally choose to be in a party situation.  And it is maybe because I was pretty straight (definitely no pun intended) that I realized something about these fairly lovely guys – they can be really, really handsy.

It turned out that four or so of the gentlemen were, in fact, heterosexual, and I was the de facto hot girl of the evening.  This is the benefit/drawback of this particular circumstance – while I don’t doubt that the persistant interest in me was genuine at the time, I’m also well aware that my mere presence made me something of an oasis in the be-penised landscape.  So while I had four straight guys vying for my attention, it was my sad duty to inform them that I am spoken for and would not be making a cameo appearance in anyone’s bed but my own, and stricly solo.  They flattered, they moped, they declared my boyfriend “the luckiest man in the world,” and my vagina remained unmoved.  In the timespan of all these varied efforts to get me into the sack, one guy moved in for a kiss, another guy stroked his hand over my ass, and a third hopefully walked me home.  All attempts were rebuffed, gently but firmly, and all the guys took it in good grace.  In short, it was perplexing but flattering.  There were no scenes, a minimum of awkwardness, and I would have no problem seeing any of those guys again and feeling friendly and warm towards them.  They were drunk but essentially respectful, and it is no big deal.

Which brings me to the gay boys.  They tended to be more loud-mouthed and outrageously outre than the straight boys, in keeping with accepted stereotypes.  They were simply noisier, funnier, and dancier than their hetero counterparts, which is all fine and good and the ingredients for a good night out.  But I did notice that they were also more recklessly intimate with me, and I wonder why it would appear more permissable.  The obvious explanation is that they should be seen as non-threatening because they’re not sexually interested in women, and I admit that I was far less bothered than I would have been if a straight boy had a) grinded with me on the dance floor b) stuck his tongue down my throat unexpectedly c) grinded on me with an erection (after making out with his boyfriend!) d) held me in a tight embrace for an hour or e) threw me over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry and ran down the street. (more…)

« Previous PageNext Page »