ink all over

I usually don't like large tattoos -- my rule is the smaller, the better -- but I like this one. Maybe it's the lighting or her skin or the simplicity of the background. Her waifish expression and fairer complection helps, too, I think.

One reason I think this works is that she's not junked up with competing tattoos on her leg and/or arm. Too many people slap tattoos all over their bodies like stickers. She appears to have another one on the other side of her body, and that seems like too much to me, but it's hard to tell how big it is from this angle. Overall I think the tattoo seen in the camera might be better if it wasn't so wide, then it would work more with her proportions.

Of course, in thirty years, this will be a different story. She'll be late middle age with lots of things sagging and the ink will have faded. I wouldn't be surprised if she cursed the day she got it. Alternatively, this might be an incentive to keep herself in shape. Otherwise, no one would want to see it if she decided to show it off on occasion.

woman kills man by squeezing his nuts

This just in: a woman in China killed a man last week over a parking dispute by squeezing his testicles.

The confrontation began after she attempted to park in front of his store and he began quarreling with her. Her brother and husband soon arrived, and a fistfight ensued among the three men.

At one point while they were brawling, the 41-year-old woman grabbed the storeowner's testicles and squeezed until he collapsed. Paramedics were called, he was rushed to the hospital, but died soon afterwards.

No word whether she's been charged. You can see non-gory photos of the scene of the crime here.

rockin' kangaroo grandma

This is Deb Spoons, who is quite popular here down under. She was one of the finalists on "Australia's Got Talent" a few years back. This is a very cute video and not just because of the kangaroos -- it'll get your feet a-tappin'.

scariest bathroom in the world

Here's a loo for my fellow acrophobiacs. It's a powder room in a luxury penthouse in Guadalajara, Mexico. The floor is transparent and directly over an abandoned elevator shaft that plungs fifteen stories down.

Looking at the picture closely, it appears the clear floor is attached to steel girders. Well that seems safe. But the steel girders appear to be attached to some old, crumbly looking bricks. Hmmm.

One thing's for sure about this bathroom -- probably no one would linger in there too long. Nor would constipation be too much of a problem once you got inside.

You can see more photos of the penthouse here.

fashion sense

I can't think she selected this outfit because she thought it made her look attractive. When you wear an attention-whore getup, I guess you can't feel too bad when you're mocked.

his sexy voice

The house we are caretaking is in need of a new roof. The elderly owner is in a care home, so she's deputized us to see that it's done for her. My husband and I checked around and got referrals from friends and family for several roofers.

I've been charged with setting appointments for them to come around and give estimates when the husband and I will be here. One of the roofers is in business with his son, the latter whom I spoke with on the telephone the other day.

I was struck by the roofer son's voice when he called. Some men have incredibly sexy phone voices, and he certainly is one of them. He wasn't overtly flirtatious because he knew from the get-go that I'm married, but there was just something so sonorously erotic about his voice and easy laugh.

He mentioned he was 28 and unmarried, so I was expecting a stereotypical Aussie hunk to come knocking on our door to see our roof. I was expecting a sexier version of someone like Chris Hemsworth. Instead he turned out to be not more than about five foot tall and never met a dessert he didn't like.

My husband knows that one of my sexual fantasies involves the two of us screwing while men we know watching us. The imaginary voyeurs are usually young and attractive. I had thought before I saw the roofer that he might be added to my cast of peeping toms. I don't think so now. I don't fantasize being watched by gnomes.

swanky to skanky

This is a tastefully done scene. A slightly zaftig woman gives her man a gift in a Tiffany's box, which turns out to be a butt plug he can use on her. The models are attractive in a realistic way, and it's attractively photographed. You can see more preview images here.

What jumps out at me in some of the shots are the several red, angry zits on her butt. It would've killed somebody to take twenty seconds and put a little covering makeup on that? We all have our imperfections, but prominently on her ass in an anal scene is probably not the best place to leave them unobscured. The scene went from swanky to skanky in two seconds.

And wash back there more sweetie with a washcloth. You get zits on your bumper from substandard hygiene.

the tyranny of gmail

I use Google's Gmail email service. There's a lot a like about it, like the capability to do a search which actually works. The storage space is commendable and all messages in one conversation are kept together. You can also chat within email.

A few months ago, they decided to change their design. They announced this with much fanfare, but I wasn't impressed. I liked the older design and saw no need to change. The new one was not as easy to read -- the only thing that stood out more clearly were the crappy ads which I usually ignore.

That wasn't a problem because you could revert to the old design. I did that immediately, and although I started receiving nag screens about changing to the new one, I ignored them. Then I started receiving plaintive emails from Google, imploring me to tell them why I don't like the new design. I told them -- it's not as easy to read.

All went well. They left me alone. But then they just started reverting to the new design. I had to keep changing it manually. Then I was informed the "old design is going away." No date when that was happening, but I had to accept their choice at some point.

Now they've switched and I can't do anything about it. Tough shit, customer, we just do what we want and you have to like it.

I cannot see any improve functionality with this design. All the features are the same. It seems that someone else decided they liked the new design and now everyone has to like it, too.

I despise change for change's sake, and that's what this seems to be.

Now I'm receiving warnings that the "old design" for Google's Blogger is going away and I'll have to accept the new one, which I don't like as much. The functionality, once again, appears unchanged. Apparently the same dictator at Google has decided everyone should like the same preferences.

Google should change its name to the Ayatollah Googleini.

the wall of ice

More regular readers of this blog may recall that my relationship with my parents is nearly nonexistent. They do not communicate with me unless I contact them first, and their response is usually extremely cursory.

As a result, I've been on the fence about when to tell them that I'm pregnant. I did not want to wait until the child is born. Neither of my sisters has any children but my brother does, so it's not like they don't already have grandchildren. Nevertheless, I thought a kid on the way might finally break the ice.

I wrote up a short email the other day, tinkered with it several times, then saved it. I showed it to the husband and then, what the hell, clicked "send."

The response, not surprisingly, was extremely terse: "Congratulations, Mother and Dad." Not love. Not how wonderful for you. Nada.

Sometimes I'm tempted to write an email that says: "I've decided never to contact you again. Have a nice life. Goodbye forever."

I would not be surprised if I received an email reply that read: "Ditto, Mother and Dad."

silly or serious?

This photo made me laugh at first, but then I wondered if I was being dense. Is it supposed to be absurd? Or is it commenting on a common practice of which I'm not aware? Do newlyweds release doves in the air at their weddings? If that's the case then this makes more sense, but I'd rather it was just silly.

A friend told me he once went to a funeral where white doves were released graveside near the end of the service. When the birds flew into the air, a small hawk swooped out of somewhere and grabbed one for all to see down below. Blood landed on the priest's white cassock. You'd almost have to wonder if that was some kind of sign.

dick clark meets grace slick

This is intriguing for about a hundred different reasons. If I had to go back in time, I would love to have come of age in the 1960s and been a part of the Summer of Love.

When I was an exotic dancer, my specialty was 1960s-style go-go, wearing white boots with my birthday suit. I did private dances in a booth and most of my customers were older guys who were young in the 1960s. I cannot tell you the number of times I danced to "Somebody to Love." I nonetheless still love the song along with much of the music of that era.

newsweek discovers bdsm

The latest issue of Newsweek has a cover story about women today and their increasing flirtation with BDSM. The thesis, as detailed in the summary below the headline, is: "women's power at work may be fueling the craze."

The article was written by a female academic who is "Assistant Director of the Cultural Criticism and Reporting Program at New York University," whatever that euphemism means. About halfway into the piece, the writer muses about why women seem more interested in BDSM now: "it may be that, for some, the more theatrical fantasies of sexual surrender offer a release, a vacation, an escape from the dreariness and hard work of equality."

She offers no particular evidence to support this thesis, nothing more than her quasi gut impressions and some vague psychological references. One cannot tell from the piece whether she likes being tied up and spanked or not.

Now I haven't interviewed a lot of women about BDSM, and the Newsweek writer may not have either, because she only quotes "desires" from a fictional woman in a television comedy and a character in a novel. Apparently she doesn't have any girlfriends willing to go on the record and explain why they want their man to handcuff them before they get down on their knees like a good girl and make him happy.

When I have talked to women about this topic -- and I certainly know this is true myself as a woman -- enjoying BDSM isn't so much about surrendering as it is about embracing trust. I need and crave a man I can trust completely, and BDSM is a handy way to both test and fulfill that need.

I trust my husband without question and he doesn't even need to tie me up -- he's extremely strong and much larger than I am. He could completely dominate me without even tying my hands behind my back with silk scarves.

But when I totally submit to him, when I am helpless and he does whatever he wants to me sexually, I know he won't hurt me. He may tease and torment by preventing my orgasm or making it more intense. I am powerless to stop him, but the trust is always there. I do this because I trust him, not because I want to submit to him.

There's something almost anti-feminist about a woman who "needs" to submit. In contrast, I don't think it's anti-feminist when a woman seeks a man she can trust completely. Feminism is, in certain respects, a reaction to men's historical untrustworthiness.

are naked pregnant women attractive?

I know many people love the sight of a pregnant woman. Some men even get turned on by a woman heavy with child -- the abundance of preggy peggy porn sites are testament to that.

I was looking at an erotic photograph site yesterday that featured some tasteful, artistic pictures of very pregnant woman in one section. Visitors had left many complimentary comments about them.

I have to confess I don't find pregnant women particularly attractive. They look misshapen to me. Yes, I know she's full with child, but she still looks ungainly and awkward, not unlike when a snake swallows a big rat.

I was standing naked in the bathroom earlier today, examining the slight thickening in my waist. My tits look pointier around the nipples and slightly crooked. Pregnancy is not making me more attractive, at least in my own eyes.

I'm not saying I'm right. If people find a pregnant woman more attractive, then bless them. I'm just not one of them.

I took the dog to the vet today and a woman came in with a visibly pregnant mastiff. The dog looked at me with a sort of weary resignation before gingerly sitting and panting heavily. She probably knew I was knocked up, because dogs are very smart that way. Her expression almost seemed to say, "hey love, you ain't seen nothin' yet."

I have a feeling, six months from now, when I'm massively pregnant, I won't be able to stop thinking about that mastiff.

breakfasting again

I have not had to race to the bathroom in a week. I'm wondering if this is a temporary lull, the proverbial eye in the storm. I actually have had a small breakfast the last several days. I still feel somewhat queasy before about nine, but food does not repulse me like it did until recently.

I've been doing informal surveys of woman I know who've been pregnant recently or even strangers I meet in town or stores with infants. How long did it last and, of specific interest to me, what are the experiences of mothers with boys as opposed to those with girls.

Supposedly there is some scientific correlation between morning sickness and gender because of hormonal reasons, but it's certainly not exact. I know in my family that women had morning sickness much more with boys than with girls.

I recently found a British medical study that linked IQ with morning sickness -- kids that made mommy puke regularly have a higher IQ than the ones who didn't torment her.

Of course I will love any baby I have, no matter the gender or smarts. But I'm still hoping the tenant inside me is a boy.

fermat's room

The husband and I watched this intriguing Spanish psychological thriller the other night on DVD. I highly recommend it.

The movie was not released theatrically in many countries but is likely better viewed on DVD anyway because you can fast rewind to check little bits here and there. Also, the dialog is very fast during certain parts so freeze-frame helps to read the subtitles.

The plot involves a sometimes complex series of logic puzzles as well as an accelerating ticking clock. Things aren't always what they seem to be at first. Little things become bigger things later. Many little things turn out to be big clues.

I love movies that make you think and keep you on your toes throughout, where the challenges involve brains more than brute force. The female lead is played by Elena Ballesteros, who is very alluring in an innocent sexpot sort of way. She also has the best surprising reveal in the movie, in my opinion (for those who have seen it; it's her story about wanting to go back on the boat).

a night to remember

Today is the 100th anniversary of the Titanic's sinking. The event has been massively romanticized, which I think somewhat gauzes over the fact that 1,514 people died quite horribly.

In 1912, I imagine the public response to the great ship's loss was something like what happened after the attacks and World Trade Center collapse on September 11, 2001. That is hardly a romantic event in our memories.

That makes me wonder if, with time, something like 911 will come to have a more gossamer sheen in future decades. Will it, too, be romanticized like the Titanic so that the horror is diminished?

I was twelve when the Leonardo DiCaprio film opened. Many of my classmates at the time, particularly girls, were utterly gaga over the movie and watched it repeatedly. It just never grabbed me. I couldn't get past thinking about the people who died and how horrible the last few hours of their lives must have been.

In my opinion, Walter Lord's non-fiction classic A Night to Remember is a much more distinctive telling of the Titanic story. If you haven't read it, I highly recommend it.

jedi kittens strike back

This is very cute. The filmmaker looks about fifteen years old on his home page. I wonder how long it took to make this? Hopefully he ends up with a job in the movie business.

the name

The husband and I have been having "the name" discussions for the forthcoming little bundle of joy. We avoided talking about this when we were trying to get pregnant just so we wouldn't end up with dashed hopes.

Both of us prefer traditional names that don't seem too bizarre. For a girl we both very much like Louisa right now so that's our first choice for the time being. We came to it pretty quickly, although I know James is hoping for a son as am I.

For boys, we're still way up in the air. My husband has a common last name, as will the child, so we want a first name that's both distinctive and traditional. What's traditional but neither too common or too surreal is not easy.

I have both a cousin and an uncle Zebulon but that's just too funky to consider seriously, even though we both sort of like the name. My grandfather, who I loved dearly, was named Galusha, a name used in my family back to at least the nineteenth century but otherwise extremely uncommon.

We both like that name a lot, but we're a bit concerned we might be the only ones. We don't want the kid plagued for life with a name other people think is ridiculous. "Hey, Galoshes, where'd you get the funny name?" As well, there's no easy diminutive or nickname -- we certainly don't want him called "Gal" for short. So it may end up as his middle name.

We both also like Junius quite a bit, another name that's been in my family a long time. The big problem, again, is that it has no attractive diminutive form; "June" is out of the question.

Cyrus is another option we both also like, again a name from my family. Here the dimuntives are workable -- Cy or Russ or Rusty. Right now this is probably the first choice but out of default.

So the process continues. Countless millions of parents have had these discussions for centuries as many millions more will for centuries to come.

British man fathered 600 (or more) kids

Patrons at a London sperm bank have learned their children may all have been fathered by the same man -- the facility's founder/owner Bertold Wiesner.

DNA tests on children conceived from sperm provided by the clinic during the 1940s revealed that as many as 600 and possibly even 1,000 children were secretly fathered by the now-deceased Wiesner. He claimed that the sperm was donated by a variety of intelligent men but that was largely a fiction.

I find this both fascinating and horrible. Wiesner was grossly unethical for doing this -- who knows how many birth defects and resulting heartache will result when his unknowing relatives conveive children.

What drove him to do this? He was too cheap to pay male donors? He was consumed by raging narcissism? Or was his problem a raging inferiority complex?

People in Hollywood might already be thinking up new story ideas resulting from this news. You could have a heartbreaking romance when two people discover they're actually siblings. You could go the [i]Demon Seed/Omen[/i] route. Or you could go the comedy route, when a man tries to learn his father's identity and discovers he's related to some horrific public figure.

As disquieting as this story is, I can't help but think of jokes about this. (I have a dark sense of humor.) For example: when asked her reactions to this news about her late husband, Mrs. Wiesner replied, "well now I finally know why he spent so much time in the bathroom."

text from dog

They're like cartoons, just without any drawings -- it's a new Tumblr called "Text From Dog" and some of them are very funny. I included two recent ones below.

New media has spawned a variety of what could be called "meme cartoons without artistry" like this. The creator needs no artistic talent, simply a good sense of humor and some basic computer skills.

overpraised and underwhelming

I've written here before about how the husband and I like to watch classic movies sprinkled among our contemporary viewing. Our local library has a large and fantastic collection of DVDs to lend, so we try to pick up one or two old movies a week.

I recently checked out Arsenic and Old Lace because neither of us ever recalled having seen it. Starring Cary Grant and directed by Frank Capra, written by the legendary Epstein brothers of Casablanca fame, we thought we'd be in for a real treat. The DVD case was replete with all sorts of praise from film luminaries plus a list of the film's honors. How could we go wrong?

Needless to say, we were massively disappointed. Cary Grant overacted to the extreme to the point where it was painful to watch. He seemed like he was on amphetamines. The directing was uninspired and the script was really bad.

It's understandable that some films will not turn out well. Equally, not every movie will appeal to everyone -- different strokes for different folks. I checked IMDb and we certainly were not alone in our opinion. With that said, far more people think the movie is great than those who think it's terrible.

I have to wonder how many of them say they liked it because they're afraid they'll look stupid for having missed something -- the emperor's new clothes syndrome. Or maybe they just drink a lot before they watch it.

spider woman

I was out walking the dog the other afternoon when I heard a neighbor screaming like a knife-weilding maniac was after her. Then I saw her burst out her side door and just continue screaming while standing still.

The dog is heavy but too old to run, so I hoisted her up like a baby and took off running. "What's the matter?" I called as I came up her walk as fast as I could.

"Spider! Huge! In the kitchen!" she screamed, her face filled with panic.

I felt like saying, "Oh, I thought it was like a real emergency.

It's worth mentioning at this juncture that the woman is British and relatively new here. Australia also has very large spiders and a few species are very poisonous. Some are much larger than anything I saw living in California or Nevada.

At the same time, spiders generally don't act like monsters in horror movies. If you leave them alone, they will leave you alone. They won't come charging at you and bite you out of pure malice.

So I volunteered to go into her kitchen to check it out for her. The first thing I noticed once inside was that she had raced out of the house and left doors wide open from the kitchen to other parts of the house. D'oh.

Fortunately, the spider had not moved much from where she told me it was -- in a corner by the ceiling. It was big but certainly not the biggest one I've seen here. The type looked familiar and I'm fairly certain it wasn't a poisonous species. I also knew from experience it would probably move pretty fast.

So I went outside and asked if she had a box and a broom. She directed me to the garage and I found both. Once back in the kitchen, I knocked the spider in the box fairly quickly and returned to the yard. She acted like I had a box full of rattlesnakes. I refused to kill it for her. I told her instead I would take into the woods and release it, which I did, once I walked the dog back home again.

Several neighbors have come up to me since the incident as if I'm some kind of wild animal tamer and wrestled alligators in the street with my bare hands. I just don't understand people who panic about spiders. You're more likely to slip and die in the shower than succumbing to a spider bite.

happy easter

Being the silly fool I am, this cartoon never fails to amuse me every time I see it. Rabbits are considered pests here in Australia, so Easter bunnies are not common. I guess it would be something like an Easter rat or an Easter cockroach in America. Being an American, however, I miss cute Easter bunnies.

Instead, children here welcome the Easter Bilby, named for a native Australian animal that's on the verge of becoming endangered. A bilby, in my opinion, looks like a cross between a rabbit and a rat, although I do not express my thoughts about that outloud here to strangers because the bilby is somewhat revered by some people. I saw a display of chocolate bilbies in the store the other day and they looked like chocolate rats to me.

I hope you have a memorable Easter!

don't mess with jedi cat

When it's Dog versus Cat, usually Dog is the loser. Even when Dog has a wingman.

super ejaculation

I found this Superman comic on a humor forum. This led me to speculate once again about a topic I've mentioned several times to my husband's amusement: how does Superman have sex or go to the bathroom? My sweetie wonders why I ponder such things.

Presumably Superman has enough self-control that he won't kill a woman during sex. But what about involuntary bodily functions? I seem to remember a Superman comic from my childhood where he somehow inadvertently sneezed and caused a disaster. So how could Superman control his ejaculations?

A man might delay orgasm but he can't control the velocity once he begins to cum. Hence Superman would have to pull out before he shot his load or he'd kill her. He couldn't even dump it on her because presumably his jism would be like a jet that could kill her, too. So he'd have to aim to shoot against the wall, but then they'd rip through and land three miles away. Wouldn't she notice the big hole?

That means Superman would have to screw in a field somewhere so there'd be no damage. It also suggests the Clark Kent side of his identify is a virgin, because how would Clark explain away the hole in the wall after he shot his load?

And what about when Superman goes to the bathroom? If he's peeing in a urinal, what keeps it from blasting through the wall like a cannonball? A man cannot really control the velocity of his urine.

These are important issues to consider.

corsets for men

These are corsets for men by French designer Sylvain Nuffer. They range in price from 600 to 2,000 Euros, which is about $800 to $2,600 American.

This begs the question of why a man actually needs a corset. Nuffer's designs are not particularly tight; they're more like snug vests. So it's not like an overweight man would be trying to slim himself quickly.

I think they look like something a Hollywood costume designer would've whipped up for someone like Bette Davis or Rosalind Russell in a Victorian romp but the studio rejected them. They seem much more feminine-butch than masculine to me.

I don't think this trend will catch on with too many men. I don't think that's unfortunate. How many male readers of this blog would wear one? A show of hands? That's what I thought.

mommy porn

One of the hottest publishing trends right now is so-called "mommy porn" -- explicit erotica specifically targeted to younger female e-readers. In the past, women eschewed buying or borrowing anything too explicit out of embarrassment. Now they can read anything in e-book form and no one will know what they're enjoying.

I think this is a great trend. Women can deal with sexuality on their own terms in privacy. If you're reading a trashy book on the subway and everyone can see you, some people may decide to interfere in your business or some yucky creep may hit on you.

Mommy porn is also significantly internet-driven, in contrast to the traditional fiction market which is still controlled routed primarily through publishing companies. So it's still something of a wide-open frontier.

With that said, I have to say what I've seen of mommy porn is somewhat disappointing. I'm certainly not offended by expicit sexuality. What bothers me is the overall inferior level of writing in the material I've sampled. Characters are shallow and cliched. The sex is explicit but not particularly distinct nor memorable. The writing is often trite, clumsy, and belabored.

This has gotten me to thinking that I might try my hand at mommy porn. Pregnancy and a new child will keep me home-based much more for at least the next two years, so I expect I will have some time. I think I'm a fairly decent writer and have dabbled already in fiction writing.

In addition to good writing and storytelling skills, I think making a name for oneself requires a recognizable voice. A lot of mommy porn already seems to be just romance fiction with more explicit sex. So I have an idea for something that's a little more distinct and, hopefully, memorable.

sleepless in sydney

I have never had problems sleeping my entire life. Even if things were going really badly for me, I could still fall asleep without delay.

Now that I'm pregnant, I've discovered that slate has been wiped clean. I'm having difficulty falling asleep more nights than I don't. Once I go under, then I stay under, but the initial foray into dreamland often eludes me for a good hour. Relaxation techniques help some but I find that, even though I'm dog-tired, I just can't tumble into sleep like I used to.

Some quick reading revealed I'm not alone -- roughly four out of five pregnant women experience insomnia. While it's more common later in pregnancy, a significant percentage experience it early on, too.

I refuse to sleep in late, so I'm often fatigued during the day. I'm avoiding naps, at least for now, out of a fear it will make night sleeping more tenuous. Thus I often stumble through the day in a state of fatigued torpor.

Hopefully I'll be over this soon. If I had to choose, insomnia is what I'm liking least about pregnancy, although the morning puke takes a close second. I can't wait until I have to pee every few minutes.

I was kidding people

Yesterday was April first. We're not really selling our baby. Some people apparently didn't check their calendar before reading the blog. But I guess that's the point of an April Fools joke -- you have to catch some people off guard.

I received several impassioned emails from people who apparently didn't realize the date, imploring us not to put the kid up for adoption. At least no one offered to buy the baby. Hopefully no one alerted the authorities.

So deep breaths people. The baby is safe and won't be put on eBay. We worked a long time (he he) to make this baby so we already have a considerable emotional investment.

major decision

I've written before about how I worry I'll be an unfit parent. This has eaten away at me a lot lately, more and more every day.

So I decided the other night that the best course is to put the kid up for adoption as soon as he or she is born. This is something I've actually been thinking about for a long time, so it certainly wasn't a snap decision.

I knew winning over the husband to this idea might be something of a challenge, but I sat him down and spoke my mind and he actually came around to my thinking pretty quickly. He confessed that, while he was thrilled at first I was pregnant, he too was worrying more and more lately about parenthood.

He also had the brainstorm that, as long as we were putting the infant up for adoption, we should make my pregnancy pay. So he contacted a lawyer he knows to see how much we could get if we put the baby out for private adoption. It turns out the money is much better than we thought.

Giving up the baby finally means we'll have enough money to buy the gym he's long wanted. I even toyed with the idea of maybe I'll have another child in a year or two that we could also put up for private adoption also, just to make sure we have enough cash.

This is a big load off my mind and the big payday we'll be getting certainly will make the whole situation much easier.