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.
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.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
"Sphere of Grace" indeed! This new installment of the Hip Parade series features shapely PVC derrieres clad in an eye-catching selection of panties. There are three color variations for each panty type, for a total of 12 possible types to trade and collect. A top-notch collection of bottoms!
So I spent the weekend at a bachelorette party, feeling out of place and being not quite as bored out of my mind as I expected, but still pretty bored. And although I am never in demand at events like this - I have problems faking enthusiasm appropriately, and people say I’m mean - no one can deny I buy a kickass gift. My gift was a comically-illustrated “modern” Kama Sutra, which featured large, page-sized photographs of models in various positions, along with their mystical names (”Cicada on a bough, Late Spring Donkey, that sort of thing), soothing quotes and helpful tips (”He comes in at an angle, to maximize stimulation of the clitoris”). Probably the most hilarious thing, though, was not the dirty pictures nor the pseudo-mystic descriptions, nor even the “Deer Exercises”, but rather tucked onto a back a page: the Five Virtues of the Penis.
1. The penis is Kind. It exists mainly as a tool for servicing the woman, and in this it keeps on giving and giving.
2. The penis is Righteous. It is not selfish. It performs its duty, yet it is empty on the inside, a hollow tube, with nothing of its own.
3. The penis is Courteous. It is polite. It advances or retreats at the right time. It is hard or soft at the right time. It is shaped neither squarely, nor is it pointed or sharp edged. It will neither hurt nor show lack of discipline.
4. The penis is Wise. It knows how to find a way to please the woman, and it will do whatever is in its power to satisfy her.
5. The penis is Honest. It will keep labouring until it completes its duty. If it cannot fulfill its duty it gives up completely. It is completely honest. If it likes you it stands up straight. If it does not it becomes indifferent.
This is of course the opposite of what I’d been told the penis was like all my life, but I think I like this version better. So the next time someone tries to excuse his boorish behavior by saying “men think with their dicks” show him this list, and explain that he has an obligation to be as kind, righteous, courteous, wise and honest as his penis would want him to be. I’m especially fond of this definition of “wise.”
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Friday, April 18, 2008
Thursday, April 17, 2008
The French National Assembly has passed a monumental bill intended to curb the "promotion in the media of extreme thinness." The bill, which targets any outlet considered to be "pro-anorexia," has not yet been approved by France's Upper House, but it's still causing quite a stir. If passed, it would mean offenders could be fined up to 45,000 euros and face up to 3 years in prison. [BBC]
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Today, we continued to work our way through the collection of Playboy magazines that we have been digitizing for the past year or so. Here is a batch of cartoons by Erich Sokol. We start out with a biographical feature on the cartoonists who worked for Playboy in the mid-1960s.
Next up is a Sokol feature that highlights his remarkable ability to caricature...
And a pile of Sokol cartoons from the late 1950s through the early 70s. Check out the wide variety of colors, the attention to light and the skillful composition in these cartoons...
Stripper Hired to Dance at Funeral
There is a bond that some children have with their parents that can never be stripped away.
Cai Ruigong, a Taiwanese man, proved that recently when he hired an adult dancer to perform at his father’s funeral.
Ruigong’s father, Cai Jinlai, was 103 years old when he passed away. Jinlai was famous for his interest in strips clubs and often traveled around the island where he lived, visiting various strip clubs. Jinlai was the oldest person in his village and had over 100 descendants.
Ruigong had made a promise to his father that if he lived past 100 years old, he would have a stripper dance at his funeral.
Jinlai would have been proud to know that he went out in style, with a $160 stripper dancing for 10 minutes in front of his coffin.
We recently published a video that was sent in by one of our readers that showed strippers performing in front of children. Apparently strippers are not frowned upon in Taiwanese culture.
“Local villagers believe that the more people who attend the funeral, the more the dead person is honoured.”
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Nipple rings and airport security. I can see, perhaps, why asking anyone to remove their nipple rings with a pair of pliers is a bit much, but the press release, below, is also complaining that another woman had her breasts inspected because of her nipple rings, suggesting that such an inspection would also be objected to. So, what's the alternative? We trust people when their chest sets off the metal detector? Terrorists have used their pregnant girlfriends to try to blow up planes. They've put kids in a car to disguise the fact that it was about to blow up. People like to laugh about over-inspections at airports, but I don't laugh anymore. Your thoughts?Nipple Rings and Airport Security: Woman Forced to Remove her Nipple Rings in Order to Fly
A woman who was forced by TSA security to remove two rings in her pierced nipples in order to pass security to board a flight will hold a news conference with her attorney, Gloria Allred, today March 27, 2008 at 12:30pm at 6300 Wilshire Blvd., #1500, Los Angeles.
The woman was given a pair of pliers in order to remove the rings in her
nipples. The rings had been in her nipples for many years.
Several years ago, another woman, actress Nicole Richie, had her breasts
inspected by security at a different airport because of her nipple rings.
At the news conference Ms. Allred will display two nipple rings on a
mannequin, and explain what she and the woman will do in order to ensure that no other person is forced to suffer what the woman did in order to board a plane.
This homoerotic recreation of Leonardo’s Last Supper has offended a Viennese cardinal, making it second piece of modern art on Trend Hunter we’ve known to offend the church.
Cardinal Christoph Schoenborn, archbishop of Vienna, described the image as “a homosexual orgy” of Apostles, which he found quite offensive. The artist “oversteps the essential threshold of respect for the sacred,” he says.
Interestingly, the Roman Catholic cardinal had approved the painting’s placement in an exhibit that honoured 80-year old Austrian painter, Alfred Hrdlicka. He’s regretting that choice now.
“I obviously would not have agreed to have blasphemous or pornographic works exhibited. I therefore explicitly regret that a work of this kind was exhibited without my knowledge,” the cardinal said in a statement.
He does, however, continue to back Hrdlicka.
“Hrdlicka...probably more than any other living artist, has devoted himself to the suffering and downtrodden human being and has appealed for “compassion” with the “Passion,” he said.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Sunday, April 6, 2008
I watched her push her wet breasts back into her bra, pulling the top-laced edges of the bra cups over the peaked nipples, and slide her tight blouse over them. They were big; the bra and blouse held the breasts high on her chest, almost above her armpits, and even in the flickering balcony light I could clearly see the thick white streak of her bra bulging out of a stretched opening in the armpit of her red blouse.
She turned, and saw me leaning against a side wall of the balcony aisle steps. It was a weeknight and the porno-house was almost deserted, just a few fags sitting in the back rows pawing each others’ crotches, and a figure here and there, sipping out of a paper-bagged bottle or already sleeping it off.
I moved my foot off a back step and turned towards her, my stiff penis poking at the edge of my thigh; there was an exaggerated flitting of the eyelashes and a sly smile, and she turned back to the movie screen: a guy in pants was lying atop a girl in panties.
I had been standing and watching most of the time she was getting her breast felt and only moved away when I saw the guy seated beside her begin to buckle and shiver and slide down his seat as he ejaculated from her handjob; I didn’t want to see her dip her tits to his wet cock. I suppose she had read in one of those chic ladies’ magazines how freshly ejaculated semen is rich in nutrients and vitamin just right for a woman’s soft complexion and tired pores, but the number of cocks I sometimes saw her smear on her breasts in a few hours was as if she had discovered her own fathomless fountain of youth! --if she swallowed as much scum as she smeared on she’d probably live forever!
I looked at her bare arms and puffed dark hair, then stepped down and entered her aisle. She reached out for my dick even before I fell into the vacated warm seat beside her, and I put my arm around her shoulder and groped at a breast. It was soft and large and beautiful and I raised my free hand and cupped her other beautiful breast…I’m sure she was a trans, expertly made up….
I squeezed. Her head fell back on my shoulder and I breathed in her perfume and opened my mouth and let her thick hair-sprayed strands pulse past my teeth and tongue. (I saw the cover of a fashion magazine sticking out of her purse on the seat next to her: a model exposed her bare belly beneath a décolleté blouse.)
I moaned into her hair. She fumbled with my zipper flaps, flicking her thumb nail against the metal zipper tongue, though unable to slide the zipper down, and I reluctantly let go of one beautiful breast and helped her open my pants. She reached in and found my hard cock and gently maneuvered it through the overlapped underwear folds and began to stroke the fat dick while I squeezed her breasts through her blouse and stared at the screen: the girl in panties wrapped her legs around the guy in pants and simulated a fuck. I began to pull her blouse up.
I had been with her many times before: she often came to the Pix and had her tits felt and sucked, stroked and licked, mauled and chewed, groped and nibbled, but would never allow a pawing hand to stray below the breasts, keeping the hands of her tits, tweaking the nipples, kneading the flesh, refusing even a touch of belly, crotch or thigh, and if a hand persisted in reaching down her waist she’d angrily snap down her blouse and order the errant groper, Go away!
The first time this happened I skulked to the bathroom and furiously masturbated, cursing at the loss of tits and the unsatisfying touch of her crotch, until I ejaculated then slinked back to the balcony to see her being pawed by a more obedient groper who was rewarded by a prolonged handjob until she leaned over and bobbed her tits on his cock, rubbing the scum into her flesh and stiff nipples, then kneading them back in her bra.
I sometimes wondered why she even bothered in raising and lowering her blouse, since it was often, especially on weekends, a long and frequent procession of gropers, one after the other, taking the seat next to her; gropers who gaped from the surrounding seats or lined the balcony steps and impatiently awaited their turns and resisted the urge to masturbate while watching her masturbate someone else.
But she was not the sole reason I kept returning to the Pix; the majority of porno-houses on the block had made a swift transition from soft panty porn to hard core reality with exaggerated visuals and extreme close-ups of outspread vaginas, bloated cocks, and stretched ass-holes, while the Pix, and its neighbor across the street, the Bryant theater, with their passé films of girls in panties and bras intimating at intercourse and hinting at fellatio, remained a sort of demure haven of soft core in the casual and ready hard fuck world along 42nd street and attracted a different shuffling clientele more interested in sucking each other off than in looking at the screen, whether it displayed covered asses or outspread panties crotches. At the Cinema 42, Caeser’s Harem, Globe Sex World, the camera lens focused on interior visuals of lubricated vaginal and anal walls of some faceless woman, probing and lingering over every glistening vein and blown up gelatinous lump, while the Pix and Bryant still trembled at a bare thigh above a dark nylon mesh, or the contour of a large breast pulsing out of a tight bra cup. There’s definitely something to be said for the mystery and hint of early soft core porn: it treated the woman as an object to be desired, craved, and lusted after, a hint of stocking as something shocking, something heady but out of reach, a dream, a quest, a possibility, rather than a pliant immobile cadaver to be disemboweled, dissected, and discarded. Open you ass! the director cries. Cunt! That’s a wrap!
I slid her blouse over the top of her breasts and slipped my hands into her tight bra cups, circling her fingers around the warm and clammy beautiful tits. (I suppose like many of the other gropers, I at first was repulsed by the idea of pawing tits with someone’s cum on them, and once stared incredulously as a new groper fell into a vacated seat beside her and proceeded to lick and lap up the previous pawer’s scum off her breasts. But there’s something extremely erotic about sloppy-seconds and orgiastic sex and as I watched I tried not to come in my pants and couldn’t wait to put my hands on her beautiful scum-slathered tits; though it took a while and many jerkoff sessions afterwards that I dared shut my eyes and stick a wet tits in my mouth.)
On the screen, the man in pants bounded atop the girl in panties and she pulsated beneath him his gyrations: the camera caught them in the moment of intimate frottage and they fell back exhausted; --it was bullshit, but enough to get hard over.
I wobbled the large tits out of the bra and she quickened her strokes on my cock. I bucked and roughly squeezed one breast and she looked at me expectantly as I grimaced and sucked in air.
-Yes? she asked.
And I yelped, Yes, yes! and she quickly stooped over and lowered her tits atop my crotch; the pre-cum spurt shot on her neck and blouse but she caught the remainder of scum on her breasts and nipples.
I held her shoulder as she swayed below me, buckling my torso against her tits, then moved my hand down her back. Dare I reach for her beautiful ass? She remained over my cock, dabbing her breasts in my scum, and I put my hand on a buttock in her tight black pants. She didn’t seem to notice my first wary grope, concentrating, I suppose, on massaging and savoring her tits in my vitamin-rich scum, so I moved my hand onto her thigh and reached around for her cunt. She bolted upright, her wet tits swaying and dripping with scum.
-Hey! she said, and glared at me. I meekly smiled, but quickly moved my hand to her waist.
-Just the tits, OK? she said, and pushed my hand off her waist.
I nodded, and she looked down at my cock. It had grown flaccid and drooped between my thighs, but she reached down and cupped the wet cock and balls and squeezed out a remainder of weak fluid onto her fingers and dabbed it on her mouth as lip gloss (I could have kissed her then), and sat back down in the seat and glanced at the movie: the girl in panties was putting on nylons, the camera patiently following the slow movements of the hose sliding up her legs.
I looked around the balcony; no one lingered in a nearby seat or waited on the stairs. In the back, a bald head bobbed on lap --his eyes closed. I moved my hand over a shoulder and reached for a wet tit. (I certainly had no objection to touching my own scum.) She glanced at me, and the empty seats around us.
-Can you come again? she asked, tapping my limp cock.
-I think so, I nodded. I’m hot.
She looked around and put her head on my shoulder and I rubbed and massaged her shiny scummy warm tits. On the screen, the girl in panties and nylons stepped into a skirt and high-heels, the camera slowly panning up her fully clothed body. I felt my erection slowly returning and I tweaked a wet nipple.
I glanced down at her crossed legs; the triangle of her wet pussy trapped in her pants was clearly outlined in her tight pants crotch. I looked at the belly-button model on the magazine cover in the other seat. My wet cock was almost hard enough to be stroked again. I lowered my head and put a clammy tit in my mouth then lowered my hand to her waist.
Soon, real soon, I thought.
She fumbled under my chest for my cock and squeezed at my balls. I slurped on her tit and grabbed her cunt. Surprisingly, it wasn’t hard as I expected it to be. She fumed in disgust and left me alone on the balcony….
I saw her a few times after that but sadly she wouldn’t let me get close to her again.