By Pauli Poisou
Disclaimer: I’m no prude. Anyone who knows me will spit out a thousand creative insults about me before landing on “prude,” and even then they’re just probably misspelling something more interesting. Yet sometimes when I sit in front of the fire in my smoking jacket, idly sipping Scotch and browsing through the latest issue of Sexy Sex Sexology on Sexual Sexiness, it occurs to me that we, as a society, are totally overthinking boning.
I mean, I like looking at boobs as much as the next guy. But there is a point where things that are supposed to be nice and sexy stop being either and evolve into over-engineered mutant contraptions that are to harmless fun what Cthulhu is to local fish populations. Cases in point:
#5. A10 Cyclone SA
Look, everyone knows Japan is going to feature on this list in one way or another, so let’s just get their kink out of the way first, shall we?
The A10 Cyclone SA is named like an industrial vacuum cleaner, and damn if it doesn’t look like a scale model of one, too. According to Kotaku, it was introduced to the unwary world as a “sexual home appliance,” which is corporate speak for “Yo, here’s a Hoover you can finally fuck without ending up in the ER!” But despite its clunky, business-like exterior, let’s not rain doom all over this thing right away. Plenty of sex toys look way goofy; it’s how they function that counts.
With that in mind, allow the nice lady who is probably really happy to have her image forever associated with this fucking thing give you a quick peek at the gadgetry that lies within:
Yes, inside that unassuming shell lies a bona fide, rapidly spinning electrical sander vortex, ready to repeatedly rotate-brush any and all nearby dicks to oblivion. I guess that can be seen as a good thing if you’re very literal-minded about polishing your pole, but for the casual masturbator that shit is just overkill. Oh, and because dong-flaying tornado machines only score a solid 6 on Japan’s sliding scale of insanity, the Cyclone is also Bluetooth enabled so you can rig it to move in synch with, say, the play-by-play of last year’s Super Bowl. Why would you ever want to do that? I don’t know, because I’m not the one who’s contemplating shelling out $300 for a customizable dick sander.
#4. The TimeToSquirt
Squirting is a peculiar gush some women experience in their nether regions when they why am I explaining this? You know what I’m talking about, don’t pretend that you don’t.
Marcus London, who you just know is either a porn star or a villain in a Jason Statham movie, is an equally peculiar person who has devised an algorithm that lets any schmuck fondle female genitalia in a fashion that is “guaranteed” to pave the way to a lady-part hose-down. He calls it, I shit you not, the TimeToSquirt, and it comes in the shape of a wristwatch.
The actual watch is just a part of the TimeToSquirt system. The real meat comes in the form of a 200mb, password-protected guide that you can download from the product page after you’ve made the purchase. This tome contains Mr. London’s ultimate hand techniques, which the website describes in a manner that makes me feel I’m not qualified to discuss this thing, for fear that someone, somewhere gets an internal injury for misunderstanding my words. Here, I’ll let the website explain:
Yeah. Basically it’s all about memorizing the manual, and that stupid watch is just a glorified traffic light for your action hand.
I’m not saying the system is entirely without worth. Its aim is to bring pleasure, and some women have gone on record saying that these climaxes can actually be quite powerful. However, I am saying that no matter how magical Mr. London’s hands may be, a goddamn wristwatch is the absolute worst way to put his techniques to use. If you don’t see the problem here, try wearing one to bed come next Bone Time and surreptitiously glance at it every 10 seconds. Unless your significant other is really into hate rodeo, I promise it won’t take two minutes until they push the eject button.
Back in the early 1990s, when “cyber” was a word no one sniggered at and hoverboards would surely arrive any day now, the world was introduced to the concept of teledildonics. Created as an umbrella term for the scientific research of long-distance fucking, it was both the most accurate description for dicking around the computer ever invented and the best excuse to dick around even more.
Well over 20 years later, the hottest shit in the field of distance boning is a device known as LovePalz, and I’m guessing if those early 1990s scientists would have seen it they probably would have called it quits, opting instead to find cancer cures or whatever.
LovePalz consists of a male and a female unit that you plug into your respective computers. Then you fuck them, and they basically respond to whatever is going on with the other unit, thus creating an illusion of screwing a piece of plastic in a fashion that is somehow more meaningful than usual. I could go on and on about the specs and haptic achievements of this product, but come on — that’s not what you really need to know about LovePalz. What you really need to know is what they look like when they’re operational:
Hahahahaha! Isn’t that just the most adorable thing ever? One of them churns. The other flops about. Together, they fight crime.
What the product website carefully downplays (but the user blurbs actively suggest) is that the product is also used for the nascent art of quite literally fucking yourself. Which, come to think of it, is totally like 98 percent of all the possible reasons anyone would ever purchase this thing. After all, cloning technology is expensive.
Still, at least there’s a chance that one or two of these were sold to people who are actually using them for each other’s benefit. There’s no way the same can be said about …
As you may have noticed from the previous entry, I have a tendency to believe that at the end of the day, people just want to screw themselves as hard as they possibly can. I realize this is a pretty heavy attitude, and I’d be happy to adjust it … if it wasn’t for the fact that things like the Glance app keep proving me right.
You may have heard of Glance in January, when it made its debut under its original name, Sex With Glass. In one fell swoop, it managed to combine the worst facets of all the realms of geek dickery: It was designed for Google Glass, it gave the platform a giant middle finger by actively advertising the sex aspect in its very name, and its whole point was face-swapping the person you’re fucking with, well, you.
For that is the whole point of Glance, whether they admit it or not (they can’t, because for a supposedly cool company Apple has some serious issues about sex). When you make an app where the whole point is swapping viewpoints with another person, you know full well what that shit is going to be used for. They even hint as much on their website:
Moments are more beautiful when we experience something we’ve never seen before. Glance makes even the simplest experiences more special, surprising, and delightful.
Take note of that vaguely Camembert-like stench wafting by your nostrils, for that is the smell of innuendo. Well, that, or the smell of your partner’s taint, playing a harmonious tune with the view of your own, enjoyed through their Google Glass. Is that an image you would cherish? Because it’s not an image I’m going to cherish. Get your pasty, Google-Glassed asses out of my living room.
#1. Vore Toys
If you’re not comfortable with the idea of a grown-ass man lubing himself up and stuffing himself in a huge rubber dragon head for kicks, walk away now. I hear there’s a nice article about bunnies just next to this one.
Still here? Good.
To be human is to be a prisoner of your urges. We can discuss wines and argue about French philosophers all we want, but we’re still basically animals with a prime evolutionary directive to procreate. We sure as shit are striving to become something else, though: For whatever reason, at some point in history our brains decided that watching other people screw is cool too, and that’s how the sex industry became such a major player on every field of innovation. That’s also how we’ve become jaded and willing to experiment more and more. Hell, I myself have been known to [REDACTED -- Cracked Legal Dept.] while [REDACTED with extreme prejudice -- Legal] it with a [50 states. What he's describing is illegal in 50 fucking states. -- L.] and a lawyer [Oh, goddammit.]. We all have our innocent little secrets, even if we’re one day going to get zapped big time by some passing alien fleet because of that shit you’re up to, Steve.
The thing is, occasionally someone’s particular interests wind up so convoluted and overthought, they’re as far removed from ordinary sexuality as taxes. Consider vores, a tribe of fetish enthusiasts that reside in some of the darkest jungles of the Internet. They get off from the idea of either eating or being eaten by someone or something, and usually both the eater and the eaten are represented by a luscious catgirl or a dragon with boobs or some shit. Well, those guys have sex toys too:
That’s a “head nommer,” and ahahahahahahaha holy mother of balls I can’t even finish this sentence without collapsing in laughing fits. The manufacturer talks a big game about “drool-scented lubricant” and “saliva pumps” and whatever passes for ambition in circles where your highest dream is being fed to a hentai character, but come on — that thing is clearly a massive artificial vagina for your face, and also the best goddamn thing I’ve seen all week. If they had a butt version of that, I could cross like six names off this year’s Christmas shopping list alone.
Oh, and there’s also that dragon thing I was talking about earlier. Sadly, it’s not quite finished yet, but even more sadly, it looks like it eventually will be.
Now, imagine a 300-pound, bebonered man, slathered in oil and struggling to enter the mouth.
This is a dead nose-horned viper found in Macedonia with a centipede poking its nasty little head out the hole it ate through the snake. BRUTAL DETAILS:
The unfortunate nose-horned viper (Vipera ammodytes) was a young female that stretched about 2 inches longer than the centipede (7.9 vs. 6 inches, or 20.3 vs. 15.4 centimeters), the researchers wrote last month in a brief report published in the journal Ecologica Montenegrina. But the centipede (Scolopendra cingulate) was actually heavier than the snake, tipping the scales at 114 percent of the snake’s body weight (4.8 vs. 4.2 grams, or 0.17 vs. 0.14 ounces).
A dissection revealed that the snake’s visceral organs were missing, or in other words, “the entire volume of its body was occupied by the centipede,” the scientists wrote. For this reason, the researchers think it’s possible the snake’s dinner tried to claw its way out, destroying the viper’s internal organs along the way, before eventually dying.
This is Poveglia Island, a 17-acre island “between Venice and Lido in the Venetian Lagoon, northern Italy.” It was originally used as a dumping ground for dying plague victims. Then in 1922 a mad doctor opened a mental hospital there where he performed lobotomies with hammers and chisels, and eventually killed himself by jumping from the hospital’s tower “after claiming he’d been driven mad by ghosts.” And now it’s for sale by the Italian government to help reduce its debts.
The island has remained closed to visitors in recent years with access strictly restricted by the Italian government. It has become a draw for supernatural investigators searching for signs of the rumoured spirits, the most famous of which is a plague victim called Little Maria, who it is claimed stands crying looking out across the lagoon towards her home. One of the visiting presenters of the Travel Channel series Ghost Adventures claimed to have been possessed on a visit to the island. According to The Telegraph the plan for the decrepit building is to transform it into a luxury hotel, though a group of architects and planners have launched a campaign to buy the island in a bid to stop the further privatisation of the lagoon.
We always wondered how rabbits, eggs and hot cross buns come to represent the spring holiday we call Easter. So with a little bit of Google magic we did some digging and found out some pretty interesting things.
For example, a majority of Easter associations did not actually originate with Christian practices, but rather from Persian, Greek and Babylonian traditions that Christians adopted.
Here’s more of what we found:
1. Why do we do what we do? Ancient Babylonians, who lived 2,000 years before Christ, would annually commemorate the resurrection of their food and vegetation god Tammuz, who was brought back from the underworld by his mother, Ishtar. Funny thing is, their festivities are exactly how Christians all over the world celebrate today — egg dyeing, hot cross buns and formal Sunday morning worship.
2. Why is it called “Easter”? Not only can we thank the ancient Babylonians for the Easter activities, but we can also thank them for the name. Ishtar is actually pronounced “Easter,” according to many Semitic dialects. Perhaps this is when the name “Easter” became associated with the resurrection of a culture’s special god.
3. Or… Did we get the name “Easter” from the ancient goddess Eostre — better known as Goddess of the Growing Light of Spring? She was known to represent the bright and vibrant first half of the year, loved by many and known for the innocence and beauty associated with springtime.
4. So, what’s the deal with the rabbit? You might be sitting there thinking, “Wait, but rabbits don’t even lay eggs.” So here’s why the rabbit is associated with Easter: Not only do rabbits multiply at an alarming rate, they also have spiritual symbolism. It is said that rabbits are actually the “spiritual twin” or totemic representation of Eostre, the goddess mentioned above. So with this combination of grand fertility and spiritual bondage, the rabbit carries the heavy weight of being Easter’s mascot.
5. Thought that dyeing eggs was just for fun? Think again! Ages ago, Egyptians logically used an egg to symbolize fertility, new life and resurrection. They used to think that eggs fell from the sky, which meant that the gods were sending them a message — a new life had arrived! Red dye, gathered from plant pigments, was used to color eggs and symbolized the blossoming colors of springtime.
6. Why does Easter fall on a different day every year? Christianity’s one exception to adopting certain Pagan practices is the date which we celebrate Easter. Based on our solar system, every year Easter is scheduled to fall on the first Sunday after the first full Moon of the Vernal Equinox.
These facts about Easter raise a bigger question: Why did early Christians adopt pagan holidays and rituals for themselves?
It’s complicated and there were a lot of variables and historical points involved, but here’s the quick version from Answers.com:
By adopting pagan feasts, the Christians could provide an alternative for converts who were unwilling to give up ancient festivities. As Christianity became the majority religion, they could also demand that all people attend church or other Christian observances on that day, thus ensuring that the people did not spend time in observance of pagan celebrations.
The Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) and the Lyon County Sheriff’s Office Narcotics Division served a search warrant to the Up in Smoke Hippie Store on Prater Way in Sparks, and to a resident on Gull Street in Reno, according to Sergeant Pope with the Lyon County Sheriff’s Office.
Sergeant Pope says narcotics agents seized $60,458.64 worth of drug paraphernalia.
In total, 2,624.99 grams of Synthetic Cannabinoids (spice), 992.8 grams of Hallucinogens, 183.3 grams of Synthetic Cathinones (bath salts), 10,681 grams of pharmaceutical controlled substances, and 149.1 grams of other unspecified drugs were taken by authorities, according to Sergeant Pope.
Sergeant Pope says a .45 caliber handgun and a .22 caliber revolver were taken as well.
The investigation is ongoing. No further information has been released.
Blue Ribbon Sushi in Soho was hit with an indoor rain storm of roaches Wednesday as several of the creepy-crawlies fell from the ceiling and onto a table and even patrons’ legs.
Luckily there have been no reports that high-profile fans of the posh Japanese joint like Gwyneth Paltrow, Faith Hill and Taylor Swift were around to see it.
According to the New York Observer, a male diner was lunching at Blue Ribbon when a critter tumbled down onto his table.
Four more roaches followed suit, with one evening landing on his leg.
‘These weren’t small cockroaches,’ he told the Observer. ‘A person from the restaurant said, “Maybe it’s about to rain, this hasn’t happened before.”’
While none of the bugs fell directly onto food, another diner reportedly had one crawl right onto his leg.
A customer said that five roaches rained down from the ceiling on Monday at the hip eatery
The Observer source said proprietors only comped half the patrons’ food bills.
Eric Bromberg, who co-owns the restaunt and several others carrying the Blue Ribbon name, says the issue has been resolved.
‘Once we knew we had an issue, we scheduled our exterminator to come that day, as soon as possible, and we waged war.
‘After many hours we found the source — located next door — and rectified the issue. The entire restaurant has been thoroughly searched and cleaned and we are moving ahead with service as usual.’
A retired transgender security guard from Thamesmead has been left “gutted” after her lodger made off with three of her corsets.
But the woman allegedly repaid this generosity by making off with four black suspender belts and three corsets, leaving her with just one.
Roxanne, 65, told News Shopper: “It’s left me gutted.
“I help somebody out and they go and do this to me.
“If she’d asked for them I’d have given them to her but she didn’t – she stole them.
“What gets me is she said she never wears suspender belts or things like that so why did she take them?
“The corsets were all brand new, all black and I’d only worn one of them.
“One of them she took was a nice all-in-one with flowers on it.”
Roxanne, who is planning to have full sexual reassignment surgery this year, bought the corsets on eBay for a total of £50, including the suspender belts.
The alleged thief announced she was leaving on the night of March 15.
But the following morning, when Roxanne checked the clothes cupboard in her front room, she found it was bare.
Roxanne shared her fold-out bed with the thief for a week but says she feels no animosity towards her and just wants her clothes back.
She said: “She’s going to have to answer some serious questions. Why did she do it?
“She wasn’t skint, she wasn’t hard up.
“I fed her, I helped her try and get off the bottle and then she decides to go and do this.”
Roxanne, who has four daughters aged 41, 40, 39 and 25, claims police did not take the incident seriously when she reported it.
She said: “According to the sergeant, they can’t nick her because nobody saw what happened.”
“I used to play with the girls rather than the boys when I was little.
“I was married 21 years then I thought the grass was greener on the other side.
“It wasn’t bad for that time but something went wrong and then I thought I will be what I want to be now.”
Roxanne is hoping to have the six-hour reassignment surgery done on the NHS and says she will be “very relieved” when it’s done.
She said: “My family haven’t got anything bad to say about it, it’s down to me.
“They don’t mind and it’s nothing to do with them really. “My middle daughter says ‘it’s down to you Dad – it’s your life and your body’.
Met police have confirmed they are investigating an allegation of theft. No arrests have been made.
As my colleague Rich just reported, Louisiana lawmakers defended their ban on consensual oral and anal sex today, even though it’s unconstitutional. Weirdly, though, Louisiana has no problem with people fucking corpses. It turns out they’re not alone.
A quick survey of nationwide laws on sodomy and necrophilia shows that there are four states that explicitly ban the former in some way, while remaining silent on the latter:
- In Louisiana and North Carolina, two willing adults can’t get no oral satisfaction, but they can diddle a dead person.
- Oklahoma and Kansas are also cool with you banging the dearly departed, but they ban oral intercourse between consenting gay or lesbian partners.
- For the record, several other states—Nebraska, New Mexico, and Vermont—also appear to allow necrophilia, but they’re cool with sodomy, too, so at least they’re consistent.
It turns out there’s actually a fraught history behind necrophilia and the law; many of the states that think they’ve banned it actually have vague injunctions banning “crimes against nature,” or they classify it as a sexual assault against a partner who can’t give consent.
That leads to some trouble in the courts. In Wisconsin a few years back, three young men were arrested while trying to dig up a corpse for sex. Since the state didn’t have an explicit necrophilia ban, they were charged with attempted sexual assault for their intent to have sex with an unwilling party. But an appeals court threw out their conviction, saying a corpse isn’t a person under state law, and therefore consent isn’t an issue. (The state Supreme Court, apparently afraid of suborning a corpse-banging epidemic, voted 5-2 to restore their conviction on shaky legal grounds.)
The problem is that “the dead body is a quasi-subject before the law,” according to legal theorist John Troyer in his landmark 2008 journal article on the subject, and “the ambiguous juridical standing of the human corpse in necrophilia cases compounds the sexual monstrousness of the necrophiliac and of necrophilic acts.”
In any case, it seems to offend our modern moral intuitions that any sex between consenting adults could be illegal, but sex with a dead person—can anyone be less willing than a corpse?—could be permissible.
Of course, Christian moralizers would say that’s why all non-straight, non-missionary sex should be illegal: because parsing out the secular legal intricacies of various sex acts is a lot muddier than resting on the word of God.
That would be great!… if everyone believed in their God and their interpretation of that God’s sexual laws. But hell, not even Louisiana legislators can apparently get on board with that thoroughgoing reasoning. And until they do, the anti-sodomy, anti-necrophilia religious right is just flogging a dead horse. (But not fucking it, obviously.)
Full map—red states are the anti-blowjobs, corpse-sex-friendly states:
(h/t Stuff You Should Know)