and sammy walked in

I recently discovered the brilliant jazz pianist Michel Camilo and am loving his albums. I don't think he's put his best stuff on YouTube. I particularly recommend his CDs Rendezvous, Thru My Eyes, and Why Not. If you love jazz and aren't yet familiar with his work, do check him out. I think you'll be glad you did.

pet peeve

I am a terrible speller. I could rationalize a dozen reasons why, but there's no changing the fact that I've always been first-round elimination material for any spelling bee. Ironically I know when to use "stationary" versus "stationery" and "compliment" or "complement," but ask me how to spell something like "apocryphal" and I'm hopeless.

That's why I use a spell checker. And why I have a browser feature activated that puts a wavy red line under anything I spell wrong. I also use sites like Dictionary.com that suggest possible solutions when I'm stumped about how to spell something correctly. Further, my word processor is set up to flag any misspelled word as I type it.

The home computer offers many free solutions for the terrible speller. So that makes me wonder why people put things online which are riddled with spelling errors. How difficult is it to check? Don't you want to seem at least halfway intelligent?

The biggest offenders are people posting comments on political blogs and forums. They call someone with an opposing point of view "ignerant" and then in badly spelled prose explain why they're brilliant and all-knowing.

absurd

An Indian billionaire (and India's richest man) has recently moved into his 27-story single-family house in Mumbai (formerly Bombay) with his wife, children, and aged mother. The place is actually as tall as a 60-story office skyscraper given that many floors have extremely high ceilings.

The home will require 600 full-time servants and has nine elevators, three helipads, inside parking for 168 cars, several indoor swimming pools, and a "snow room" where visitors may enjoy a man-made snowstorm. Total square footage in the residential portion exceeds 400,000, and the cost rang up at somewhere between $1 and $2 billion American.

I think the place is hideous. It looks like a stack of old computer parts left in an alley. If you click the picture below, you can see a very large high resolution image of the house.

adulterous dreams

Since my mid-teens I've kept a dream journal. I write very short entries, usually just a single sentence describing the dream in a sort of TV Guide logline shorthand, e.g. "Dreamed I was dancing in LA again at a real dump with six inches of water on the floor from a leak somewhere and no one noticed the mess."

Every few months I'll flip through the journal just to refresh my memory and to look for any new patterns. Some of the descriptions have lost their meaning and I no longer remember the dreams. Others are still quite vivid, helped in part because of the journal.

My erotic dreams have changed with time since we got married. Sometimes they're absurdly annoying, like I keep trying to have sex with my husband but am constantly interrupted or he disappears into thin air. Or we'll be having sex someplace completely ludicrous like the bank.

I still have dreams on occasion about other men, both past lovers and, on occasion, someone I've never met. In the latter group is a very occasional reoccurring dream with someone I call The Italian, because I have no idea who he is. He's very good looking with a beautiful lean body and an Italian accent. Those dreams always involve foreplay but never reach consummation. He's a terrible tease. I want sex but he won't give it to me.

I was talking about these Italian dreams with a friend recently, and she was shocked I tell my husband about him. I can't help where my subconscious wanders, and we don't keep secrets from each other, so why not tell him? He could care less about my dream lovers and has admitted he has sex dreams of his own involving other women.

I wonder if a time will come where I never dream about sex with anyone but my husband?

american psycho

If you're familiar with the novel and/or movie American Psycho, you'll understand who this is pictured in the tattoos below: Patrick Bateman, a brutal sociopath and serial killer. So I guess a tattoo of a fictional psychopath isn't quite as bad as a tatt of a real one.

So are we to interpret anything from the fact that no fewer than four people thought this was such a brilliant idea to adorn their body with a Bateman tribute for the rest of their lives?

thanksgiving hnt

Happy Thanksgiving! And don't forget your topping if you're bringing baked goods; no one likes a naked dessert.

stripper university

I've had something of a brainstorm about a business idea.

Home parties for women are very popular here in Australia. There are all kinds of Tupperware type parties where women sell kitchenwear, sex toys, lingerie, children's toys, cosmetics, candles, and more to their friends. Then there are home parties where women learn Chinese cuisine or scrapbooking or cake decorating or whatever.

The women get together, drink, socialize, giggle, and have a good time. The theme is more of an excuse to get together than anything else. I've been to a few of them.

So a little lightbulb goes off in my head: teach women at home parties how to strip and lap dance for their husbands and boyfriends. I have the perfect credential that no one here has. "Learn to strip from a Vegas pro and keep your man happy." That sort of thing.

Obviously much more needs to go into developing the marketing, but you see where I'm going with this. It could be huge fun for women and put some spark in their love lives when they take their skills home. I'd cover some basics so it wouldn't be any kind of advanced training.

I've talked to a few female Australian friends, and they think it's a great idea that would catch on. I also am in touch with a woman who does lingerie parties, and she's interested in some cross-promotional ideas. If I got this off the ground, local media attention would be an easy get, too.

And as my husband pointed out, men would be a great promoter of this to their wives and girlfriends via word of mouth.

the exile

I left the U.S. more than two years ago, but it now seems much longer than that. This will be my third Thanksgiving in Australia, where it's not a holiday except to the clusters of expatriates. We were invited to a Thanksgiving dinner by some Americans but probably will not end up going.

Thanks to the Internet, the United States still seems very real to me, yet at the same time very far away. I follow the news both national and local for places where I lived back there. It's strange to watch a local TV news show ten thousand miles away. I also watch random American TV shows, usually not for the story but just to see pictures of home.

I find I miss the strangest things. I miss hearing random snatches of nonsensical American dialog out in public. I miss American post offices. I miss certain foods easily found in the U.S., like tortillas (they have some here, but they're horrid). I miss California most of all.

The Husband and I have talked about taking a trip to the US and even moving back sometime but nothing concrete as of now. At least we can always go whenever we are able to plan something. I feel sorry for people exiled from their home countries unwillingly. How hard that must be. An Iranian woman did my nails the other day and, although she left her country more than twenty years ago, I could see in her face how much she missed home when she talked about it.

I feel the most foreign when viewing Australian sports. They remain an utter mystery to me, like something created in a parallel universe.

somebody's wedding night?

This photo is an interesting enigma. I found it posted somewhere with the title "wedding night."

Is this an actual amateur photo? The setting clearly is not some porn studio; it appears to have been shot in a real residence. I don't recognize either as pornstars, and while I'm no porn expert, I do have a pretty decent visual memory.

If it's the real thing, it strikes me as rather odd. I'm certainly no prude when it comes to amateur X-rated photography and have appeared in more than my share of the milieu. But your wedding night seems a little sacrosanct for taking shots of the "hey guys looking at me getting a blowjob" variety.

strippers in the news

Here's a true story that sounds like something from a John Grisham novel.

Jack Camp, who's 67 and has been a federal judge for more than twenty years, pleaded guilty last week to buying drugs for his stripper girlfriend and also for loaning her a government laptop.

He first met the unnamed woman when he bought a private dance with her at a strip club. That led to repeated subsequent trysts for sex and drugs and oh my. He's also married, a father, and a grandfather.

Unfortunately news reports do not indicate whether or not Judge Camp snorted coke off the stripper's thigh.

yul brynner

In our continuing quest to watch classics, the husband and I screened Anastasia last night, which stars Ingrid Bergman and Yul Brynner.

Neither of us thought the movie has aged well, and not because Anastasia Romanova was conclusively proven a few years ago to have been executed in 1918. The movie could have been a really compelling love triangle, but the acting and production seemed more like something from a 1930s melodrama than a 1950s film.

Bergman was good, but we didn't think this was her best work. Even though she won an Oscar for Anastasia, she was far better in other movies for which she never even earned a nomination, like Casablanca.

The highlight of the film for me was Yul Brynner. In the first half of the movie, he had a strong presence and a lot of sexual charisma. I never really paid much attention to him before, but he really was quite magnetic (except when he was puffing on a cigarette, which he acknowledged at the end of his life as the cause of his lung cancer). He was a legendary lover in his day, and I can certainly see why.

The shot below is from a set of artistic nudes he made while still in his twenties and an unknown. He looked better when older and bald.

demonic

I cannot imagine what would possess a woman to get a tattoo like this. I wonder how many men would undress her and then change their mind. "Actually, I just remembered, I was going to do my laundry tonight. See ya!"

windows 7 hnt

We recently bought a new desktop computer because my husband's was so old. It came with Windows 7, which has a new "themepack" feature of various slideshows for the desktop background.

I wasn't satisfied with the choices Microsoft offered, so I soon figured out how to make more -- and X-rated -- themepacks. Given the computer won't be leaving the house, unlike a laptop, the desktop need not be "safe."

This week's HNT is part of a themepack I made featuring a variety of amateur erotic images. If you have Windows 7 on your machine and would like to download a free copy for yourself, be sure to click here. Once downloaded, click on the file, and it will self-load into your themepack folder. If you don't have Windows 7, it won't work.

Only one of the images in the themepack is of yours truly, which appears below. The others are high-quality amateur hardcore pictures I found on the Internet.

the triple-glance test

I'm currently reading a Jeffery Deaver novel and was struck by the following description of a single male interacting with a single female: "[she] felt, more than saw, the triple glance that men give women: face, tits, legs."

I've not heard "the look" expressed this way numerically before, although I'm familiar with more colloquial phrases like "his eyes took a tits-and-ass inventory."

So I asked my husband -- is this true? He wasn't aware of a triple-glance test, but did say he always ran a quick visual checklist of a woman: face, rack, butt, and legs. He said the butt is critical because that's where women show weight first. He said all four were dealkillers for him.

I did something of a quintuple-glance test of men: (1) first and foremost the face; (2) arms; (3) shoulders/chest, (4) checking for a gut, and (5) his butt. The first was a dealkiller -- if I didn't like his face, then that was that. It didn't necessarily have to be handsome, but he did need a sweet, kind face (although one can be fooled by that, as I can certainly attest).

The arms/shoulders/chest were important but not absolute dealkillers. They just needed to be nicely developed. (In fact, as I've written here before, I scored points off for my husband in this department when I first met him because he's rather massive and formidable-looking).

The gut could be a dealkiller. A hint of a gut could be remedied with exercise and diet. A big gut just turned me off, no matter the rest of the package.

The buns were a nice bonus but not a dealkiller by any means. Some men just don't have any kind of ass whatsoever even though the rest of the presentation scores high marks.

the world according to Stoya

Blogger William left a comment here a few weeks back with a link to pornstar Stoya's blog.

She arguably is one of the most interesting porn people out there, and her journal doesn't disappoint. You can clearly see she's both an intelligent and articulate woman. Do check it out.

stoner metal

I like this album cover by a Russian group called "Line." I wonder if the subject helps or hurts album sales and, more importantly, how it assists band members in scoring with female fans. One of them is semi-cute and someone I would have tried to bed were I sixteen again, considering I slept with my share of garage band wannabes then I was a teenager.

I find it curious more musicians don't push the envelope when it comes to their album artwork. I suspect if they go too far that would cut into sales because they couldn't use it on social networking sites. Do people even buy music based on the artwork any more?

For what it's worth, I found their music rather uninspired and derivative -- stoner metal seems rather dated to me now. Not speaking Russian, the lyrics sound more like someone clearing their throat to me than anything profound.

mesmerizing

I'm so easily transfixed by these things. I found this on Tumblr, where it's being reposted like mad. I know men love big plump bumpers like this, but they can so easily turn to flab and fat hence why I never dared cultivate one.

punish me

I have always liked spanking as part of sex play. I prefer it done by a man's palm so my fanny feels nice and hot for a few hours, particularly during sex, but not so much that I can feel it the next day. Bruises and broken skin are right out as is serious pain. Dirty talk during spanking is great, particularly if it's corporeal in nature, telling me what a naughty girl I've been and so forth.

I also like to spank, too, particularly when the man has nice firm buns (which thankfully my husband has). I dish it out pretty much the same way I like to get it.

I have the greatest difficulty, however, getting James to spank me. It's just not in his nature, and he doesn't enjoy meting out a good punishment, although he's perfectly happy letting me paddle him. He doesn't care if I'm rough, either, using a belt or paddle if I deem it a necessary punishment.

Considering all the men in the world who use their wives like punching bags, I guess I sound bizarre complaining that my husband won't hit me. But I really need a good spanking sometimes, honey lamb. I really, really do.

straight girls who like gay male porn

While trawling around on the internet looking for erotic images for my Tumblr page, on more than one occasion I have stumbled on fan pages maintained by heterosexual women devoted to gay male pornstars. These sites usually include explicit photos and video clips of men doing men.

I've always found this curious. Now some gay male porn features men alone pleasuring themselves. I can understand why women fancy that -- you imagine the good-looking guy is rubbing one out while pining for you. It's not actually gay porn because only one man is involved, and plenty of straight men jack off while alone. I've enjoyed some of those videos because male masturbation can be a great form of heterosexual foreplay. I can get into watching a man beating his meat as he begs to let him fuck me.

What I can't quite wrap my head around are straight women enjoying men screwing men. There are no girls in those scenarios so what's the fantasy value? You're imagining the men are so much into you they're doing each other out of desperation? I don't think so. (In contrast, men enjoy lesbian porn because there's the implicit subtext that the women performing on screen are so horny they had to turn to each other in the absence of you, the virile male viewer who could satisfy them.)

When I thought about this some more, I came up with an idea: girls watching gay porn is a way for women to enjoy "safe" sex. I don't mean safe as in wearing a condom. I mean "safe" in that they can observe men sexually in an intimate way without any danger of quid pro quo -- there's never a possibility of strings attached. The men are preforming sexually but they're no threat to the women.

It's a strange form of chaste intimacy -- you're with an attractive naked male in his most private moment at the same time he's utterly untouchable. A woman alone in a room with six naked lust-blinded gay men sporting massive erections is utterly safe.

In contrast, watching heterosexual porn is entirely different, because the male is a "threat" -- if you were in the room with him, you'd be part of the action. He wouldn't ignore you like the gay men. He wouldn't take "no" for an answer.

I don't know if this makes any sense to anyone else, but it does to me. (My husband understood when I explained my idea to him, but he's also used to my somewhat obtuse thinking.)

People's peccadillos are very interesting to me. If it didn't take like ten years of schooling, I could very much see myself becoming a sex therapist so I could explore things like this. Human sexuality never fails to fascinate me.

I dream of jeannie hnt

I was going through some old pictures on my hard drive the other day and found this one, which brought back an incomplete memory. It was taken about four years ago when I lived in Los Angeles. I remember the hideous wallpaper and the Hollywood Hills house more than I remember the forgettable guy who took them.

He was what I used to think of as a bookmark male -- someone to keep me occupied until something better came along. The house was a trip, a faithful recreation of a swinging 1970s bachelor pad with lots of chrome and mirrors, but entirely new. I seem to remember the owner did something important in television, one of those vague jobs that seem to have no purpose but pay like $2 million a year.

wild times in new zealand

This was photographed on the tiny New Zealand island of Waiheke. This looks too well made to be a joke. Obviously they need DSL and porn or something. (I found the image here.)

the ghost lover

I thought this was a very clever photo set. I'm wondering if it was done without Photoshop, with perhaps a cut-out silhouette or a live model or perhaps a double exposure. Unfortunately, because I can't read Russian, I can't even figure out the photographer's name. He has some very interesting stuff on his webpage.

writer strike leaves porn industry in limbo

The American porn industry has all but shut down as the result of a writer strike leaving the business completely without ideas, plots, and convincing dialogue.

The American Writers Guild strike has crippled pornographic film production, where suddenly directors and actors are having to make up storylines and dialogue themselves on the spot, resulting in totally unconvincing and contrived sexual encounters.

"We were filming Pizza Guy Delivers Extra Hot Sausage," explained porn actress Sylvie Steel. "But with no script, the pizza guy just turned up and undid his fly and said 'here’s the extra sausage you ordered.' I just turned to the director and said 'I’m sorry, but I would just find that disgusting and deeply offensive behavior from a complete stranger. In fact I would probably call the police.'"

Without a writer to help, the confused director suggested they try following this improvized plot idea, but when four hunky actors in cop costumes turned up, Ms. Steel rejected suggestions that she would want to have sex with them all using their handcuffs and batons, and instead argued she would more likely want to give a detailed statement of the indecent exposure she had witnessed.

On another set where a crew was filming Secretary’s Double-Sided Problem, a hunky repairman was called to fix a photocopier for a buxom secretary and then simply carried out his maintenance, exchanging pleasantries before leaving to attend his next job. The actor playing the engineer said that anything else would have seemed "incredibly forward of me." Where sexual encounters have been filmed, actors have been reduced to making endless grunting noises or just saying "yeah, oh yeah" over and over again.

"Writers are an essential part of the Adult Film Industry," said porn director Ralf Radd on a new DVD introducing a retrospective compilation of his work. "Without them people watching pornographic films will just fast forward through the boring bits and miss all the sparkling dialog."

(Source.)

I misspoke

A few weeks ago I wrote a post about how I had a little trojan problem even though I have Norton Internet Security loaded and paid up current. I made the following statement, "I pay for renewals every year plus update weekly, so it's not like I wasn't protected."

And therein lies the problem. I was contacted by a computer security expert who read my blog and told me that only updating Norton weekly left me vulnerable. New malicious trojans and other beasties can suddenly appear and go global in a day or two. So if I updated on a Sunday, and the trojan appeared in cyberspace on Tuesday, by Thursday it could be all over the world. By updating only weekly, I was leaving myself exposed.

I've never been a fan of automatic updates because they can screw up something you're working on, but it turns out the ones from Norton are quite tiny and update every few minutes.

So while I have Norton, I wasn't using it effectively, so it was my bad not Norton's that I got computer cooties. I now have the software on auto update, and it certainly does shoot new upgrades nearly constantly.

I'm as prepared as a girl with a purse stuffed full of condoms.

the bottle house

This is the Klein Bottle House designed by architect Rob Mcbride in Rye, which is across the bay from Melbourne, Australia. I think it looks like a giant origami. You can see many more pictures and learn more about the project on the architect's webpage.

tattooed memories

Although this looks like a tattoo, it isn't. It was drawn freehand by an unknown illustration artist using Sharpies, a type of marker that is pretty much indelible and can take several weeks to disappear.

I know others would disagree, but I like this more than a permanent tattoo for a whole lot of reasons. The first is because it allows for an infinite variety of replacements. How much more interesting to see something this intriguing but different every few weeks (that is, of course, if you have a talented artist handy).

It also relies on memory, which is why I think I like it most of all. After a month or so, it will be gone, and although photographs will remain, the memory will be what truly preserves it.

Memory is a powerful muscle, but only if you flex it. I can't remember where I left my car keys, but I can remember special moments in my life as if they happened yesterday. People who are long gone seem like they're still here, because I visit them frequently in memory. My husband may be somewhere else for the day, but he's always with me, because my memories of being with him are so powerful for me now that he's like an invisible presence all the time.

hidden treasure hnt

Sometimes you find a hidden treasure where you least expect it. But, of course, it always helps if you know where to look.

playing video games with hot girls

I was reading recently about a new website called GameCrush, where males pay to play video games online with hot girls. The cost is about $8 for a six- to ten-minute session. That could run you $50 to $80 an hour, depending on the game.

This seemed somewhat exploitive and a bit pathetic to me, but then I realized my own hypocrisy. I worked several years as a nude dancer, where the goal was usually to entice a man to pay for a private dance in a VIP booth, which typically would run him $150 to $250 an hour.

The trick was to flirt just enough to hook him but not too much to lead him on. The line was always (or usually) clear -- I'm sweet and friendly because you keep pulling fifties and twenties out of that wallet. As soon as he stopped, it was "bye bye sweetie, hope you had a great time, come again real soon."

At least with nude dancing, the patrons are usually men who can easily afford to drop a few hundred or even a grand in an evening. I have a sense that the typical GameCrush customers are younger with considerably thinner wallets.

The psychology, however, is exactly the same -- lure the customer with sex and keep him paying. This is a business model that has survived for centuries, back to the taverns of the ancient world, where pretty girls tricked men into buy them steeply overpriced and watered-down mead they never managed to drink.

did you vote?

It's election day in the United States. I voted weeks ago by absentee ballot. I still vote in California, because I never re-registered in Vegas. All the states where I formerly lived -- California, Nevada, New York, and Illinois -- have important races today. I am an elections geek girl and love following all the predictions. Real Clear Politics is an excellent non-partisan site for polls porn.

Los Angeles County automatically mails a ballot to me here in Australia each election; I never even have to request one. I wonder how many they send oversees for people who have long moved. That postage has to add up. No wonder the state is bankrupt.

I hope you voted if you're an American. There's just no excuse not to. If a sex-crazed girl living 10,000 miles away can do it, you can too.

well done porn

I thought this scene was well above average compared to most porn that's out there. The performers seem to really enjoy each other. The lack of fake porn moaning and screaming helps. The music doesn't work, however, in my opinion. Some sultry jazz would have been much better. (Click here if you want to watch this in a much larger version.)