... because on Valentine's Day, nothing says "I Love You" quite like...
That's right. An Edible Anus.
Go ahead, click and read. This is not a joke; it's real. These are chocolates that are produced from a mold cast from a real you-know-what. And for $38.95, you can enjoy five boxes of these beauties, three per box. Milk, dark, and even white chocolate, for those who have that weird bleached-anus fetish.
Forget heart-shaped chocolates! What better way to express your passion than to say, "Here, honey, wrap your lips around these!" Mmm, mmm.
But wait, there's more. For those who don't care for chocolate, or who would prefer to keep their assholes in perpetuity, you can shell out $285 to get that little winker in solid bronze. Or, for $420, you can get it in silver or glass. I particularly like the fine print on the glass page:
Colors vary, so if you are particular about the shade of anus you require, please contact us for a picture of the currently available colors.
Now that's what I call customer service.
But guess what? The chocolates completely sold out as of a few days ago. So, sadly, you'll have to wait until next year to surprise your sweetie.
But if you're extra ambitious, rich, and borderline psychopathic, you can arrange to have a custom cast of your very own rear orifice made in bronze for $1900.
Remember, kids (this appears at the, er, bottom of the site):
"Symbolic as well as scrumptious, the Edible Anus tackles this ancient taboo in an easily digestible way. Join the uprising, spread the joy, and let's teach the world to love themselves and their anus."
That's not all they're spreading.
But seriously -- Happy happy heart day to all my readers. ♥
Friday, February 13, 2015
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
Happy birthday, Steve
Well, it was actually last Sunday. But we got to have our celebration yesterday.
I warned him in advance that I'd had a cold and I wasn't sure if I was still contagious or not, giving him the opportunity to pass until next week. But he said no way, we're on. At least I can say I tried to be considerate, right? ;-)
No exotic adventures yesterday; I baked him some brownies (from scratch) and got a card, and asked what he'd like to do. He surprised me; his desire, along with our usual spanking play, was to mess around with his camera a bit and take some artsy shots. (Artsy? Read: naked.) So after a nice long warm-up OTK (side note: ever notice that spanking hurts more when you're sick? I did), I stripped and we played a bit with angles and lights and positions. After he left, I took some of the ones I liked and fiddled with them a bit further in my photo-editing software, playing with the special effects.
I kinda like this one:
And this one, once cropped, turned out to be a good "post-facelift" shot:
I posted the uncropped version on FetLife, and the cropped version on Facebook. Because multi-tasking.
Never fear, there was plenty of play. Oh, and did you know that playing with a cold makes your sinuses really come alive? Hence my clutching tissues through the entire scene, as witnessed here in my left hand:
So very attractive. Snot is not hot. But I guess he wasn't looking at my nose anyway.
Hope you had a very happy birthday, my wonderful top. ♥
Anyway, it's Wednesday and I have not worked out for a week. I'm going to attempt a little bit of exercise today and keep my fingers crossed that I don't cough up a lung. Wish me luck.
I warned him in advance that I'd had a cold and I wasn't sure if I was still contagious or not, giving him the opportunity to pass until next week. But he said no way, we're on. At least I can say I tried to be considerate, right? ;-)
No exotic adventures yesterday; I baked him some brownies (from scratch) and got a card, and asked what he'd like to do. He surprised me; his desire, along with our usual spanking play, was to mess around with his camera a bit and take some artsy shots. (Artsy? Read: naked.) So after a nice long warm-up OTK (side note: ever notice that spanking hurts more when you're sick? I did), I stripped and we played a bit with angles and lights and positions. After he left, I took some of the ones I liked and fiddled with them a bit further in my photo-editing software, playing with the special effects.
I kinda like this one:
And this one, once cropped, turned out to be a good "post-facelift" shot:
I posted the uncropped version on FetLife, and the cropped version on Facebook. Because multi-tasking.
Never fear, there was plenty of play. Oh, and did you know that playing with a cold makes your sinuses really come alive? Hence my clutching tissues through the entire scene, as witnessed here in my left hand:
So very attractive. Snot is not hot. But I guess he wasn't looking at my nose anyway.
Hope you had a very happy birthday, my wonderful top. ♥
Anyway, it's Wednesday and I have not worked out for a week. I'm going to attempt a little bit of exercise today and keep my fingers crossed that I don't cough up a lung. Wish me luck.
Monday, February 9, 2015
Well, this blows
John and I both got sick again.
Last weekend, he was just coming down with something again, a mere month after recovering from the last cold. That's par for John, since his immune system is pretty much shot these days. But what's my excuse? Last Thursday, I felt a little congested, but it didn't stop me from meeting Alex for lunch and chatting for a whopping 5 1/2 hours, although I was a bit hoarse by the end. (I made sure I didn't come in any contact with her, just in case.) By this weekend, it was hitting me harder, and John's was on the wane but he was still coughing his lungs out, so the two of us were quite the pair, hacking and sniffling at each other. And last night, I ran a temperature and felt like I was gonna die.
I have tried all the OTC cold remedies, and nothing seems to work for me except two things. One is nasal spray, but I only use that when I'm desperate, because you can only use that stuff for three days. After that, you can have some sort of rebound effect with your sinuses actually getting worse. The other is Nyquil -- I buy the CVS cheapo version. Not only do I save a buck or two, but while Nyquil is 8% alcohol, the generic version is 10%. Knocks me right out.
I used both of them last night.
This morning, I felt all this weird pain in my back and chest muscles, like I'd done an intense upper body workout. Then it dawned on me, it's because of all the coughing. Lovely. However, I think it peaked last night and the worst is over.
No gym for me today, obviously.
Yesterday was Steve's birthday, and tomorrow he is due over for a belated celebration. Not sure how much I'll be up for, but I still want to see him. I need to take his birthday spanking, after all.
Enough with this already. John and I have a lot to get well for. Next weekend is Valentine's Day. And the two weekends after that, we have really fun plans. So OK, cold germs, knock yourselves out. And then go the @#$% away!
Speaking of Valentine's Day, my roses arrived this morning. As he is wont to do, John sent them early so I could enjoy them all week. ♥ He is full of surprises sometimes. He's such an engineer, so logically minded, but he has a romantic side to him. I'm especially grateful for this after I read stuff like what I saw on Facebook last week, from a man who claims that any woman who expects or accepts expensive diamond jewelry on Valentine's Day is a "self-seeking [c-word]," and any man who gives it is a douchebag and a doormat. Wow. Bitter, party of one, your table is ready!
Final note for the day: Just got email from Sephora, inviting me to their Fifty Shades of Grey event. "Explore the Limited Edition Collection inspired by the movie Fifty Shades of Grey and learn how to recreate the looks at our exclusive events." And what looks would those be? Holy Crap Hot? The Red Blush of Pain? Or perhaps, for the more advanced, the FFFF?
(yes, kids, that would be the Freshly Fucked & Figged Face.)
Don't spew on your monitor. Have a nice afternoon!
Last weekend, he was just coming down with something again, a mere month after recovering from the last cold. That's par for John, since his immune system is pretty much shot these days. But what's my excuse? Last Thursday, I felt a little congested, but it didn't stop me from meeting Alex for lunch and chatting for a whopping 5 1/2 hours, although I was a bit hoarse by the end. (I made sure I didn't come in any contact with her, just in case.) By this weekend, it was hitting me harder, and John's was on the wane but he was still coughing his lungs out, so the two of us were quite the pair, hacking and sniffling at each other. And last night, I ran a temperature and felt like I was gonna die.
I have tried all the OTC cold remedies, and nothing seems to work for me except two things. One is nasal spray, but I only use that when I'm desperate, because you can only use that stuff for three days. After that, you can have some sort of rebound effect with your sinuses actually getting worse. The other is Nyquil -- I buy the CVS cheapo version. Not only do I save a buck or two, but while Nyquil is 8% alcohol, the generic version is 10%. Knocks me right out.
I used both of them last night.
This morning, I felt all this weird pain in my back and chest muscles, like I'd done an intense upper body workout. Then it dawned on me, it's because of all the coughing. Lovely. However, I think it peaked last night and the worst is over.
No gym for me today, obviously.
Yesterday was Steve's birthday, and tomorrow he is due over for a belated celebration. Not sure how much I'll be up for, but I still want to see him. I need to take his birthday spanking, after all.
Enough with this already. John and I have a lot to get well for. Next weekend is Valentine's Day. And the two weekends after that, we have really fun plans. So OK, cold germs, knock yourselves out. And then go the @#$% away!
Speaking of Valentine's Day, my roses arrived this morning. As he is wont to do, John sent them early so I could enjoy them all week. ♥ He is full of surprises sometimes. He's such an engineer, so logically minded, but he has a romantic side to him. I'm especially grateful for this after I read stuff like what I saw on Facebook last week, from a man who claims that any woman who expects or accepts expensive diamond jewelry on Valentine's Day is a "self-seeking [c-word]," and any man who gives it is a douchebag and a doormat. Wow. Bitter, party of one, your table is ready!
Final note for the day: Just got email from Sephora, inviting me to their Fifty Shades of Grey event. "Explore the Limited Edition Collection inspired by the movie Fifty Shades of Grey and learn how to recreate the looks at our exclusive events." And what looks would those be? Holy Crap Hot? The Red Blush of Pain? Or perhaps, for the more advanced, the FFFF?
(yes, kids, that would be the Freshly Fucked & Figged Face.)
Don't spew on your monitor. Have a nice afternoon!
Wednesday, February 4, 2015
More top logic
In other words, utter BS. :-)
That little road trip we took last week to the beach? You know, the one that was his idea, the one he surprised me with, the one for which he rearranged everything in the back of his SUV? Apparently, now he's decided that we could have been arrested for that, and I need to be held accountable.
Is he @#$%ing kidding me?
No, it seems he wasn't.
We haven't been doing many videos lately. Steve's new camera is extremely motion-sensitive, and whenever we simply set it up on a nearby surface, the videos come out shaky and they blur in and out. This is solved when he brings a tripod, but he doesn't always remember to do so. Yesterday was one of those times.
However, because I really do like what we shot, I decided to post it here anyway. I apologize beforehand for the not-so-hot quality of it, but if you can look past that, I think you'll enjoy it. I know we did. :-)
In other news, I'm on my way to the dentist to have a filling replaced. Oh, joy. Last time I was there, he explained that it was breaking down, that it wasn't a big problem, that "sometimes these things just pass their expiration dates." I then piped up brightly with, "Kind of like me!" Caught unaware, he burst out laughing, then quickly stopped himself, probably thinking he shouldn't laugh at that. But no matter; now that I've knocked about 15 years off my face, I've re-extended my expiration date anyway. :-D
Happy hump day.
That little road trip we took last week to the beach? You know, the one that was his idea, the one he surprised me with, the one for which he rearranged everything in the back of his SUV? Apparently, now he's decided that we could have been arrested for that, and I need to be held accountable.
Is he @#$%ing kidding me?
No, it seems he wasn't.
We haven't been doing many videos lately. Steve's new camera is extremely motion-sensitive, and whenever we simply set it up on a nearby surface, the videos come out shaky and they blur in and out. This is solved when he brings a tripod, but he doesn't always remember to do so. Yesterday was one of those times.
However, because I really do like what we shot, I decided to post it here anyway. I apologize beforehand for the not-so-hot quality of it, but if you can look past that, I think you'll enjoy it. I know we did. :-)
In other news, I'm on my way to the dentist to have a filling replaced. Oh, joy. Last time I was there, he explained that it was breaking down, that it wasn't a big problem, that "sometimes these things just pass their expiration dates." I then piped up brightly with, "Kind of like me!" Caught unaware, he burst out laughing, then quickly stopped himself, probably thinking he shouldn't laugh at that. But no matter; now that I've knocked about 15 years off my face, I've re-extended my expiration date anyway. :-D
Happy hump day.
Monday, February 2, 2015
The FSOG stupidity continues, and continues, and continues
Well now. As we approach the February 14 release of the Fifty Shades of Grey movie, the stupid is in full force. I honestly don't know how I'm going to survive this, folks. I'm already foaming at the mouth. (And thank you for ruining Valentine's Day, Universal Pictures.)
Never mind that the press is playing it up to death and silly, misguided women are wetting themselves in anticipation. Never mind that Jamie Dornan has publicly admitted that he had to "take a long shower before he would touch his wife and baby" after he came home from a BDSM dungeon, where he went for role research. Never mind that the effing thing will make another several gazillion dollars for E.L. Jackass and her godawful Wikipedia version of kink. So, so many reasons to be pissed off. But many more are coming.
Here are a couple just to get us warmed up. The New York Times published this article about how the sex-toy manufacturers are gearing up for a huge spike in sales after the movie comes out. Oh, swell. Thousands of wannabes flocking in, buying things they have no idea how to use. Look out, emergency rooms! I predict people will be visiting you in droves as well. In case you don't bother to read the entire article, here's possibly the most important and telling sentence of the whole thing -- the quote from Susan Colvin, president and chief executive of California Exotic Novelties: "A lot of the ways they describe the toys and the products in the book, E.L. James didn't get quite right." Gee, ya think?
But wait. Just to remind us that we're all a bunch of filthy sinners, we have this uber-judgmental little blog about why erotica is bad and we should fill ourselves with Jesus instead of dildos. Don't want to read the whole thing? I don't blame you. Here's a snippet:
How many buy into the lie—fleetingly or permanently—that pre-marital sex is better than God’s good gift of celibacy? How many tell themselves that bondage sex, violent sex, is a better expression of true love than the faithful, mutual self-giving that the Bible expounds?
I am about to lose my temper, and then my breakfast. Not sure in which order.
We struggle and struggle to gain a foothold in society, to be accepted at least on some level, to be known as real people (not cardboard cut-out fantasy book characters), and crap like this sets us back to the Dark Ages.
(sigh) Well, in order to keep my sanity through this, I must remember that not everyone out there is a mindless sheep. I found this razor-sharp indictment of the book from The New Republic, written last May by William Giraldi. Have no idea who this guy is, but I like him a whole lot.
OK. Rant over, for now.
EDIT: Earlier this morning, I posted this comment on the preachy article: "I haven't read anything this stupid since, well, Fifty Shades of Grey." Now I see the comment has been deleted. What a dick.
Never mind that the press is playing it up to death and silly, misguided women are wetting themselves in anticipation. Never mind that Jamie Dornan has publicly admitted that he had to "take a long shower before he would touch his wife and baby" after he came home from a BDSM dungeon, where he went for role research. Never mind that the effing thing will make another several gazillion dollars for E.L. Jackass and her godawful Wikipedia version of kink. So, so many reasons to be pissed off. But many more are coming.
Here are a couple just to get us warmed up. The New York Times published this article about how the sex-toy manufacturers are gearing up for a huge spike in sales after the movie comes out. Oh, swell. Thousands of wannabes flocking in, buying things they have no idea how to use. Look out, emergency rooms! I predict people will be visiting you in droves as well. In case you don't bother to read the entire article, here's possibly the most important and telling sentence of the whole thing -- the quote from Susan Colvin, president and chief executive of California Exotic Novelties: "A lot of the ways they describe the toys and the products in the book, E.L. James didn't get quite right." Gee, ya think?
But wait. Just to remind us that we're all a bunch of filthy sinners, we have this uber-judgmental little blog about why erotica is bad and we should fill ourselves with Jesus instead of dildos. Don't want to read the whole thing? I don't blame you. Here's a snippet:
How many buy into the lie—fleetingly or permanently—that pre-marital sex is better than God’s good gift of celibacy? How many tell themselves that bondage sex, violent sex, is a better expression of true love than the faithful, mutual self-giving that the Bible expounds?
I am about to lose my temper, and then my breakfast. Not sure in which order.
We struggle and struggle to gain a foothold in society, to be accepted at least on some level, to be known as real people (not cardboard cut-out fantasy book characters), and crap like this sets us back to the Dark Ages.
(sigh) Well, in order to keep my sanity through this, I must remember that not everyone out there is a mindless sheep. I found this razor-sharp indictment of the book from The New Republic, written last May by William Giraldi. Have no idea who this guy is, but I like him a whole lot.
OK. Rant over, for now.
EDIT: Earlier this morning, I posted this comment on the preachy article: "I haven't read anything this stupid since, well, Fifty Shades of Grey." Now I see the comment has been deleted. What a dick.
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