Sp THAT'S where it went: Genital retraction syndrome

From Wikipedia:

Genital retraction syndrome (GRS), generally considered a culture-specific syndrome, is a condition in which an individual is overcome with the belief that his/her external genitals—or also, in females, breasts—are retracting into the body, shrinking, or in some male cases, may be imminently removed or disappear. A penis panic is a mass hysteria event or panic in which males in a population suddenly believe they are suffering from genital retraction syndrome.

Penis panics have occurred around the world, most notably in Africa and Asia. Local beliefs in many instances assert that such syndromes are often fatal.

In cases where the fear of the penis being retracted is secondary to other conditions, psychological diagnosis and treatments are under development. It is becoming increasingly clear that these forms of mass hysteria are more common than previously thought.

The phenomenon is often, but not always, associated with occult belief, such as witchcraft. These panics frequently, but not exclusively, occur in places where access to education—particularly in science and human biology—is limited, or otherwise restricted (for example, when government policies restrict such education). Others have been reported under the influence of drug use. (Compare with castration anxiety.)

Just Watch Out You Don't Catch Something -

From Ectoplasmosis:

Meet Edward Smith, a 57 year-old gentleman from Washington state who claims to have had sex with over a thousand cars. Mr. Smith says that he bedded his first automobile at 15 and although he sticks mainly to cars, he does say that his most potent sexual experience was “making love” to the helicopter from Airwolf. Lest you think that Mr. Smith’s desires be completely victimless however, note that he does admit that many of his lovers are found in showrooms or are owned by others adding, in what I imagine to be the same tone and parlance as Bill McKinney:

“There are moments way out in the middle of nowhere when I see a little car parked and I swear it needs loving.”

This article chilled me to the bone. Having done my best to avoid the harrowing experience of protecting my young daughter’s chastity from the advances of lecherous men — mostly by consuming large amounts of Mountain Dew and punching myself in the groin in an attempt to render myself sterile — I must instead face the reality of having to sit out on my front stoop with a shotgun, lest some depraved sodomite attempt to penetrate my Civic.

All I Can Say Is BRAVO!

The Adipositivity Project aims to promote size acceptance, not by listing the merits of big people, or detailing examples of excellence (these things are easily seen all around us), but rather, through a visual display of fat physicality. The sort that's normally unseen.

The hope is to widen definitions of physical beauty. Literally.

The photographs here are close details of the fat female form, without the inclusion of faces. One reason for this is to coax observers into imagining they're looking at the fat women in their own lives, ideally then accepting them as having aesthetic appeal which, for better or worse, often translates into more complete forms of acceptance.

The women you see in these images are educators, executives, mothers, musicians, professionals, performers, artists, activists, clerks, and writers. They are perhaps even the women you've clucked at on the subway, rolled your eyes at in the market, or joked about with your friends.

This is what they look like with their clothes off.

Some are showing you their bodies proudly. Others timidly. And some quite reluctantly. But they all share a determination in altering commonly accepted notions of a narrow and specific beauty ideal.

Safe Sex

Bollywood Style!

Bug Sex -

- with Isabella Rossellini:

Searching the Web

With French & Saunders, compliments of my pal Pauline ...

Once again -

- the Daily Show is a voice of reason in an increasingly unreasonable world:

From The Billerico Project:

Strangers On A Train By A.F. Waddell

Here's a delightful little story from my great friend, the always-fantastic A.F. Waddell:


Strangers On A Train
By
A.F. Waddell

They met aboard a train of naturists on a summer day in California wine country. Seated side by side, they too were clothing-optional.

"Nice tan." Charlie said.

"Oh, thanks! I just got over a painful sunburn. I'm Angel."

"Hi Angel. I'm Charlie. I'd forgotten how jarring train travel could be."

"Me too. I should have worn my support bra."

"May I share something with you?"

"Sure."

"Angel, I'd like to get . . . clothed with you."

"Really . . . ?"

"Did you bring any clothes?" He asked.

"Yes . . ."

"What, what did you bring?"

"A baggy t-shirt. Stretch pants. Clogs . . ." Gathering their bags, they strode towards the rear of the car. They found an unoccupied restroom. They entered, locking the door. They opened their bags and rummaged. Angel removed a pair of cotton socks, one by one, from her bag. She slowly, teasingly, put on each, sliding them over her toes, feet, and ankles, before yanking them up her calves.

"More, please, more!" Charlie begged.

She pulled out oversized white cotton panties, putting one leg through, then the other, before pulling them up. She smoothed the wrinkles and adjusted the crotch.

"Oh yes. Put it on, baby! Put it on!" On went Angel's oversized black t-shirt. It draped her breasts and belly. It hung almost to her knees. "Now you!"

He started with gray tube socks and worked them over his rangy feet and calves.

"Yes!" Angel cried.

He pulled on large boxer shorts, which had a sporty trout print, achieving a pup tent effect.

"Yes!"

He pulled on a gray sweat shirt, yanked on a pair of jeans, and struggled to zip them.

"YES!"

They stroked one another. "Mmm . . . cotton knit!" Exclaimed Charlie. " What kind of fabric softener do you use?"

"Mmm . . . old denim!" Gushed Angel. "I use Downy! In the rinse cycle, not in the dryer!"

Being surrounded by tons of vibrating metal seemed an organic flow and sexual power trip. Fumbling and flailing, outing their crotches, their assignation was a tricky one: Angel sat, legs askew, on a high, vibrating, narrow steel sink, as Charlie adroitly stood tip toe, facing her shaking form. His hands caressed and his fingers entered her, as she slipped and slid across the sink's surface, from its level sides into its oval concavity, her parted legs moving wide and high. Game for sporting sex, Charlie geared up. See the ball. Be the ball. He was in. The train negotiated curves and vibrated. They were almost separated as the train took a sharp curve.

"We need Velcro!"

"There's no time!"

In a daze, they made their way back to their seats. Onlookers gasped, shocked at Charlie and Angel's clothed countenance. They knew.

Charlie and Angel blushed and took their seats. They would become Amtrak Sex Fetishists.

Japanese Cross Dressing Cafes

From my great pal, Brian:



I love this .. maybe not in 'that' way but that it's done so sweetly: with delightful smiles and perky bows. Bravo!

And In Response His People Salute Him .... ewwwww

From the BBC:

A Chilean mayor is to hand out free potency pills to older people in his municipality near the capital Santiago.

Mayor Gonzalo Navarette Munoz says he wants to improve their quality of life by giving them free access to Viagra.

He will give men aged 60 or over in the working-class suburb of Lo Prado the chance to get their potency pills courtesy of the taxpayer.

He says he was inspired by complaints from older patients about their poor sex lives while working as a doctor.

"This is about giving our elderly population a better quality of life," he told Chile's national press.

Mr Navarette says that within the next few days physicians will start dispensing the drugs at their surgeries and his office will pick up the bill.

Election sweetener?

The mayor has done some number-crunching already. He intends to hand out Viagra four times a month to every man who asks for it and passes a medical.

He has already drawn up a list of some 1,500 men who have shown interest.

It is estimated the programme will cost around $20,000 (£10,000) in the first year.

Critics have suggested this is just a ploy to get the local politician re-elected.

But Mayor Navarette insists he is performing a valuable social service which, if successful, could be rolled out across Chile.