lucy in the sky with diamonds

Given our travel schedule, rather than post another repeat from the archives, I thought I'd feature the lovely Lucy. She posts provocative shots of herself like this every day on her Tumblr.

the narcissist's sex advice

I was checking some spelling on Dictionary.com where I spotted an ad that promised "seven kissing secrets guaranteed to make him fall in love with you."

That sounded like a gigantic steaming barrel of bovine manure, so I clicked through and, alas, here is where it ended up, the webpage of some kind of huckster peddling advice to women about how to make men fall in love with them. When you're shilling yourself with tripe like "seven kissing secrets," you've already turned me off completely.

So I click on this character's "about me" link and it tells utterly nothing about him, other than a lot of hype and hyperbole. Who died and made him an expert on women?

He claims he can tell you "the ten dangerous mistakes to avoid that most women make with men." He transforms himself in to a woman to date men so he has first-hand knowledge?

I'd also like to see some proof about the "millions" of women he claims he has "helped. . .attract and connect with men by giving them an understanding of what makes a man feel emotional attraction."

He's using a promotional photo that appears about a decade old, given the disappearance of his hairline in his videos, and screams "actor's headshot." So I'm guessing this guy had dreams of acting, didn't make any mark, and has moved on to self-appointing himself as an expert for women and peddling DVDs of him pontificating on love and romance.

He needs some basic public speaking pointers, however. In his videos, he constantly paces back and forth, back and forth, back and forth like a man awaiting the jury's verdict and makes the same four hand gestures. His voice is also quickly annoying.

It takes a great deal of gall and chutzpah to appoint yourself an expert with utterly no credentials. I find it particularly laughable that a man thinks he has to lecture women about love and romance and emotions, given men tend to be the less emotional and romantic of the species.

Every woman is armed with a vagina, and nearly every man wants access to that. Ergo, your vagina is your secret power weapon. You don't need some has-been clown peddling pricey DVDs of his narcissistic pontifications. You just need to use your own brain.

our days are numbered

We have only a few days left in Spain. I'm somewhat bummed by that fact but, at the same time, I am very much looking forward to returning home to Australia. Long trips are great, but the returning home part isn't so bad, either. I sort of amaze myself in realizing that another "foreign" country is now so familiar and home for me.

We've been in regular touch with family and friends back in Australia and hear all is fine. I was worried about the dog we care for, but she has adapted very well to her temporary caretakers. She is such an incredibly sweet animal and is happy as long as she has regular companionship.

It seems like we've been gone a lot longer than four weeks. The part of the city where we're staying has become so familiar as have all the major thoroughfares. In the beginning it was a bit daunting because many streets seemed similar, but now they each have a distinctive character. I can see why Americans and Brits fall in love with Barcelona.

women stampede for horse semen

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

student sex tape

Ths video below has been floating around online for several years. It clearly is an amateur production. It purportedly shows a female college student by a specific name from a specific college engaging in sex with at least two males.

If this really was made of college students, I wonder how much she ended up learning, if she indeed went to class. I couldn't listen to much of the dialog because I found it too inspid, but I did hear one male participant talk about his cocaine use. I wonder if any of them are regreting now that this tape has been circulated throughout the world.

very cute

Hope this puts a smile on your face like it did for me.

homeless man inherits a fortune

You may have read about this homeless man who recently learned he had inherited a fortune from his late brother.

It's a heartwarming story, but at the same time, the poor man has endured so much, you have to wonder if this will have a happy ending. Hollywood could make this into a sappy, feel-good story, but it could go the other way, too. I hope everything works out for him.

hnt archives

Dipping back into the HNT vault while traveling for this 2008 entry. My husband was not my husband when he took this photo, but he still loves putting his hands in my drawers now. Sometimes he does it without realizing we're in public.

He'll be waiting with me in line or we're looking at something together, and then next thing I know, his paw slides down inside my waistband. I clear my throat somewhat loudly and that reminds him we're not alone.

dangerous anal

When you've seen a lot of porn, you can't help stumbling sometimes on some very weird and bizarre stuff. If you're like I am and this happens to you, maybe you look down at your keyboard and click to go back a page.

At times, however, I cannot help but stare in amazement at what I see on the screen. It's like passing a car wreck -- you know you should turn away but you can't help looking.

I occasionally see anal porn clips and I have to wonder what the women are thinking. They allow all sorts of enormous things to be stuffed up their sphincters notwithstanding it's pretty obvious they've already seriously damaged and weakened their assholes.

You may be the queen of gapes now, but what kind of health problems will you have when you're forty and older? Not long ago I read an interview with a pornstar who does a lot of extreme anal and she jokingly commented about how she has to wear adult diapers now in her offscreen life because she was having too many accidents. Why she thought that was funny is beyond me.

There's nothing wrong with anal sex if practiced safely. A parking cone is something else entirely, however.

facing the music

About a week before we left for Spain, I had the idea that maybe I should lug my portfolio along and try to set up a few comp modeling shoots while here. To do that would take a lot of time once we arrived, time away from all the things I planned to see and do.

So I decided "nah" and the portfolio remained in Australia on the shelf.

I happened on a modeling shoot when I was walking down a street here in Barcelona the other day. I don't think the model had any distinctive look or style, although she did have legs about seven feet long.

I watched for a few minutes discretely and nothing much happened while the photographer futzed with his reflectors in a futile attempt to chase a shadow away. The model, who looked like she couldn't outwit a box of rocks, acted bored and petulant. That reminded me once again how tedious and unglamorous modeling really can be and all the many prima donnas with whom one must deal.

I have quietly admitted to myself over the last year or so that my modeling career, whatever it once was, has pretty much never gotten far off the ground. I still do a few trade show gigs, but they're almost not modeling, more like being a glorified greeter. I actually like it more than fashion modeling because I can interact with people.

In my heart of hearts, I have long admitted to myself that my aspirations for modeling were a crutch I used at times back in the States to avoid squarely facing the fact that I was making my living buck naked. Yes, I stripped or danced nude, I told myself, but what I really wanted to do was act and model. Working in clubs, I told myself, was simply to pay the bills. Yeah, right, the older me tells the younger me.

I'm not regretting that I didn't bring my portfolio. I am enjoying our time here much more than I ever have on a European trip. I'm missing home in Australia, but I'm not ready to go back yet.

thought for the day

Is that a big yahoo in your pocket or are you happy to see me?

penises aren't ugly

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

badass forehead tattoo

Yes, a Hello Kitty forehead tattoo definitely makes you a he-man tough guy, complementing the PacMan tatt on your neck. The doll hands braided into your blue dreads are a nice touch, too. You might want to change your razor occasionally and invest in some aftershave, however, to deal with that blotching issue.

a little exhibition in the night

Our hotel suite is not massive, at least by American standards, but it is very nice. The two main rooms are about twelve by fifteen feet with ten foot ceilings and the bathroom is quite large with both a huge whirlpool tub and massive shower.

The bedroom has a very large bay window that's at least six feet in height and the width of the room. The view looks out on many apartment balconies about a hundred feet away. So if you're standing on one of those balconies on an upper floor, you might be able to see what's happening in our bed.

My husband and I rarely close the drapes when we're having sex at home or in hotels. We don't leave on all the lights but usually one bedside lamp. If you're industrious and have a telescope, you might be able to spy on us while we're fucking.

James says he could care less if someone is watching or not but it doesn't give him any kind of thrill to wonder if someone is. In contrast, I love the idea that someone might be spying on us. The uncertainty makes it even more thrilling for me than if I knew for certain someone was. We don't do anything obvious, like bonk right in front of the window, but we don't huddle under the covers, either.

I have noticed one man seems to be on his balcony smoking every night. I haven't seen any kind of telescope, however.

hnt vault

I'm checking in nearly every day at a little internet cafe I found on the Carrer de Mallorca. When I offer to pay, the proprietor just waves his hand in a "don't bother" gesture, a policy he seems only to honor for younger females.

Needless to say, I didn't think it would be decorous to upload semi-naked pictures there, so I'm dipping once again into my 2008 HNT archive. I recall distinctly what was happening during this shot -- James was doing something wonderful with his fingers off camera.

the king's porn

Even if you've never watched this porn scene before, you might notice something familiar about it if you've enjoyed The King's Speech. Yes, it's the same distinctive set used in the Oscar-winning film for many scenes with Colin Firth and Geoffrey Rush.

Quite a few porn films have been shot in the same house as has an Amy Winehouse music video. The property is owned by a notorious Brit, Edward Davenport, who faces criminal charges of money laundering and a £12 million commercial loan fraud.

As for the porn scene itself, I think the oral sex is pretty hot. She's quite a greedy girl.

marauding horndogs

As I wrote here in an earlier entry, my husband was somewhat worried I'd be traipsing all around alone here in Spain while he was working. He feared I would be preyed upon by lacivious natives. So as not to worry him, I didn't tell him that I was expecting the men to be something like Italians and Frechmen -- very free with the hands and insalubrious remarks.

I have been pleasantly surprised to discover the Catalan men are very polite toward me. While they stand a bit too close and make ample eye contact with my tits and legs, I have experienced no untoward remarks or groping.

Amusingly the only somewhat "fresh" male I have encountered here is one of my husband's temporary coworkers. While he hasn't made any direct passes are touched me, he's quite free with double entendres and thinly veiled propositions. He's as ugly as blue mud and has breath that would stop a clock, so the husband is not worried that he'll get any further than wishful thinking.

anthony's wiener

The Anthony Weiner imbroglio is getting some traction here in the European press, presumably because of its salacious nature. At the newsstand I noticed several French newspapers, in particular, were giving it front-page play, perhaps as a nose-thumbing response to the Dominique Strauss-Kahn scandal.

I have no personal opinion about whether or not Weiner should resign. Whenever scandals like this erupt, the party not involved howls with outrage but curiously remains silent when a similar scandal impacts its own party. The "resign rule" seems to be very inconsistent, with some politicians quitting over offenses seemingly far less egregious than for other politicians who remain.

What astounds me is the fact that Weiner apparently never thought his photos could be made public. It's not like he sent the pictures to people he knew extremely well. He zapped them to women with whom he only had a very casual and fleeting online acquaintance. By so cavalierly sending them to multiple women, he was setting in motion a ticking timebomb. The photo below was probably the stupidest image he sent because there's just no way it could be explained away once it became public. TMZ edited it somewhat, and presumably some of his pubes were showing.

There's one angle, however, the media has completely missed with this story -- Anthony Weiner may simply have been participating in Half-Nekkid' Thursday.

obnoxious waiter

I was walking on La Rambla a few days ago, which is a major thoroughfare through Barcelona. For those who know the city, I was on the portion above Plaça de Catalunya away from all the touristy stands selling touristy crap.

I had something in my shoe, so I sat down for a moment in an empty chair at a sidewalk cafe to remedy the situation. I didn't think this was a problem because nearly all the seats were empty.

Within a few seconds, a waiter appeared and starting speaking in Catalan. I asked "¿Hablas inglés y francés?" He acted like he hadn't heard what I said and continued talking. He held out a pad to take my order so I just waved my hands to indicate I didn't want anything.

He then proceeded to yell at me in Catalan and made shooing gestures like I was a pigeon he was trying to chase. Obviously he didn't like people using one of the holy chairs unless they were going to order food. I told him off in French, finished fixing my shoe, and left.

The following day I happened to be walking near the same cafe and saw him browbeating a group of Asian tourists who had committed the unpardonable crime of sitting in one of the many empty chairs while consulting a map. I happened to notice at the time that the cafe had an awful lot of tables and that many of them came quite close to the curb so that pedestrians had less room to pass than elsewhere on the sidewalk.

Cut to two days later when I was again near the cafe and spotted a very cute young policeman standing nearby looking bored. I stopped and asked if he spoke English -- he did and quite well. I asked him if it was legal for the cafe to have chairs and tables so close to the curb and that it seemed to impede pedestrians.

He responded "I think you are right" then strolled into the cafe and began speaking with Señor Obnoxious while gesturing to the chairs and tables. The waiter responded in heated tones, then the policeman went back out to the tables, gesturing something like "you can't put them beyond here." The waiter started yelling at the officer, gesturing wildly, and the latter pulled out some kind of pad and began writing what looked like a citation.

Yesterday I walked by the same cafe and saw far fewer tables and chairs. I also didn't see the obnoxious waiter.

what's the story?

I like images like this where the photographer wants us to try to determine what he or she was saying. (At least I think he or she wants us to do that.)

The women here are in positions of power and strength, whereas the males are subordinate and decorative. The men are also gagged with Hannibal Lecter-type masks.

So with this role reversal, I think the photographer is underscoring the subjugation of women. But his symbolism seems a bit dated to me. He is Russian, however, so perhaps women are less empowered in his society than in the English-speaking world.

Yes, some women in America and elsewhere in the so-called first world are still subordinated to men, but certainly not all women. We women can rebel and loudly when we want.

watch where you're walking

I was walking down a street here in Barcelona yesterday in a very nice neighborhood and saw two dogs being walked. At the very same moment, both critters decided to answer the call of nature.

One owner diligently scooped up Fido's specimen in a little plastic bag. The other watched her large creature perform -- on the sidewalk no less -- and then blithely sauntered away without cleaning up after her charge. Inside of a minute, a hapless tourist tromped in the mess.

I don't know what the penalty is here for not curbing your dog, but picture signs are everywhere reminding one to clean up after your pooch. So it's not like the scofflaw didn't know.

Barcelona is not unlike many other large cities I've seen or lived -- New York, London, Paris, Milan -- all have more than a few dog owners who have no shame in allowing their pets to crap wherever they please and then not cleaning up what they've done. Usually the offenders are well dressed and in the better neighborhoods.

I don't understand this mentality, particularly when it's done so blatantly in front of other people. Rarely does anyone call them on their behavior. Had what I witnessed occurred in an American city, I would have told the woman she was disgusting. Here, I just gave her a nasty look and she pretend she didn't see me.

my very first hnt

Because of our travels, I'm revisiting some of my very early HNT shots. Here is my very first one from October 2008!

greetings from barcelona

I've popped in occasionally to approve comments but haven't had a chance yet to write any posts on the road until today.

Well I love Barcelona. It's like Paris on the Riviera. We are staying well outside the city, but public transit is so excellent here, it's easy to get anywhere I want.

I did not realize until I started researching our trip that Catalan, not Spanish, is the predominant language in this region. It seems something like a hybrid of French, Italian, and Spanish. Not many people speak English but they do understand Spanish and many know French, which I can speak.

I saw this restaurant while wandering around the other day near Sagrada Familia, which is the famous and very surreal cathedral. I can't imagine why they decided to call the place "Nebraska." Perhaps they thought it sounded glamorously American, but they've obviously not been to Nebraska. You might have to click the picture to read the sign.

a true test?

I saw this on someone's Tumblr page. I can't figure out what he was trying to prove. For what it's worth, the most hung man I ever slept with had small feet but very large thumbs.

post one thousand

This is my one-thousandth post. What type of anniversary is that? Crystal? Anthracite? Cardboard?

What I'm personally most proud of is the fact that, when I decided to do this, I was determined to stick with it. And I have. The interwebs are scattered with the wrecked detritus of blogs that were started and fizzled after less than a dozen entries.

I somewhat sort of surprise myself that I managed to do a daily post the entire time. I didn't originally intend to do that, but I decided that was the best way to keep to a regular routine.

While I may not have much important to say, I enjoy doing it. I also enjoy reading back and seeing how much I've changed since the time I started. And, I enjoy your many comments.

So I will keep plugging away. By my calculations, if I keep at it daily, I should hit post 2000 sometimes in January 2014.

curious porn

This is certainly porn you don't see every day -- a disabled person getting his freak on with a woman. You can see more of the set here.

I certainly hope he's disabled. Otherwise, I think that's really tacky to have a fake disabled person.

The dog is obviously real. Dogs are cute, I love dogs, but dogs do not belong in porn, staring at the action. It's just creepy. Give Fido a toy and put him in the other room until you finish.

I remember back in high school I was having sex in some guy's room when I noticed his pet snake had gotten out of its acquarium and was slithering across the floor. Now I have no problem with snakes as long as they're not poisonous, but I would not continuing having sex with him until he put it back in its pen. Roaming wildlife in the bedroom is a dealbreaker.

I guess it's a sad commentary about the guy's sexual prowess that I remember his pet and its name -- Matilda -- but I haven't a clue what his owner looked like or even his name.

spilled ink

Now I'm going to be wildly inconsistent in my viewpoint on tattoos and say I find him quite captivating. I usually don't like whole-body tatts, but there's something about him I find very alluring.

He's a good-looking, well built man with sensuous lips, so that probably explains my attraction. If he was 63, balding, and fifty pounds overweight, my eyes would be bleeding now.

Of course, when he reaches his sixties, no matter how good of shape he remains, he probably will look like an over-the-hill carnival barker. But therein lies the rub -- tattoos are not about when but about now.

the monkey on his back

The same day I saw a news clip on television featuring actor Jeff Conaway's death with some footage of when he hit rock bottom, I received an email from a friend and former coworker at a club we both danced at in Los Angeles. She told me about a manager there we both worked under, who had serious drug problems at the time, is now virtually unemployable and on disability because his health has deteriorated so much because of substance abuse. He can't be any more than forty.

I guess I am fortunate I don't have any kind of addictive gene because the mere thought of getting wasted has no appeal for me. Snorting coke has as much attraction to me as snorting drain cleaner or battery acid. What I always find the most mind boggling is when someone must feel like absolute shit because of his addiction yet keeps going back for more and more and more.

When I was dancing, more than a few of my regulars were probably alcoholics. They used to knock back drink after drink while watching me with dreamy, innoculated smiles. I would wonder if they were running through their life savings spending on booze and strip clubs. Sometimes I would feel a little guilty about that, but if it wasn't me, it would be somebody else.

old panties hnt

Because of our trip, I'm dipping into my HNT archive from a few years ago, when these were new panties. Well they're old panties now, at the bottom of a drawer and no longer worn because the elastic is shot.

The nicer panties look sometimes, the worse they wear. The best wearing panties are always the boring, practical white Fruit of the Loom variety. Pretty panties are for play, but ordinary panties are for every day.

should maria forgive arnold?

If we are to believe the narrative reported in the media, shortly after his term as California governor ended, Arnold Schwarzenegger told his wife Maria Shriver he had fathered a child outside of marriage about fourteen years earlier. Sometimes shortly thereafter, Maria moved out. Talk of divorce is now in the air.

Now we don't know what went on behind closed doors. Maybe Arnold promised something steadfastly to Maria long ago and, when this revelation surfaced, that confirmed he had been lying to her for a long time.

With that said, however, I have to wonder how I would react if I was in her place. Yes, maybe he broke a big promise. But the whoops child was born long ago. She has a lot of years and, presumably, love invested in her marriage. I can't see how she could walk away from that. But maybe he has disappointed her repeatedly and this was the proverbial last straw. Who's to know?

I know if my husband told me some whopper confession about something that happened years ago, I would give him a pass. Maybe I haven't been married long enough to feel the sort of pain Maria is experiencing. Maybe I'm so confident that my husband is so addicted to me he wouldn't seek anything outside our marriage nor tell me anything other than the absolute truth about his past.

Of course, my attitude might be different if the husband didn't ring my chimes in a big way in the sex department. Maybe Arnold just wasn't satisfying Maria in the bedroom, so when this shocker hit, she was swept out on the tidal wave.