Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Category Archives: Sex
Pre-adult Swim
Temple City had one bowling alley, one miniature golf course, and one movie theater, the Temple Theater. This last caused me no end of confusion as a kid. “We’re going to the Temple” could mean a baffling and stressful trip to the theater (Dad liked his war movies) or the interminable boredom of Temple Beth Shalom. Why, oh why couldn’t my parents leave me with a babysitter?
We had one mall (by the early 70s), one small library, one park. The mall had not yet succeeded in killing off our one short but thriving Main Street. We had a few big nurseries nearby — always fun for catching bugs and lizards — and a few elementary schools, which in those days were ungated and stayed open on the weekend.
And we had one public pool.
Let’s talk consummation
For Smart Bitches Day, I’ve decided to cede the stage to Bare Rump. For her last SBD, my lovely Tromatopelman gal introduced you to her favorite author, Bronwyn Webweaver. I wonder what she’ll write about today?
Just in case you don’t remember the salient details of Bare Rump’s appearance, here’s a picture of her at a cast party for All My Children. She’s a big, BIG fan.
***
You know what I find most puzzling about your President Bush? He’s so old. On my world, males rarely live more than three years past their sexual maturity. At first, I assumed he had to be a virgin, but then I learned he has two daughters! How mysterious is that?
At first, I thought: Laura, you devil!
Of course, when I met President Bush’s lovely wife, it all became clear. Of course! He’s had the old girl defanged.
Q&A
Knock knock knock.
Me: Go away.
Walnut: You’re being ridiculous. You know that, don’t you?
Me: I am never ridiculous.
Walnut: I see . . .
Me: If I remember correctly, you received a D in Defense Against the Dark Arts — and that was a gift.
Walnut: Your point?
Me: Given your shortcomings, I would be careful to whom you direct your sarcasm.
Walnut: Oh. Great. Now you’re threatening me. You’re a guest in my house, and you’re threatening me —
Me: Cautioning you.
Walnut: . . . and you’ve grabbed the laptop and locked yourself in the bathroom. REAL mature, Professor. One little blow-up with Mrs. Snape, and you’re taking it out on the rest of us.
Me: Hardly a little blow-up —
Walnut: Want some advice? If Mrs. Snape is still screaming at you? Not a good time to ask for make-up sex.
The losing entry is . . .
For those of you who have been following Miss Snark‘s writing contest, here’s my entry. Beats me why it didn’t cut the muster. (Hey — just found out, Stephen won! Here’s a link to the winning entry.)
(more…)
Orgasmania
Damn, girl, take off the glasses! And stop hamming it up for the camera, for cryin’ out loud. It’s just a damned orgasm.
I just received this email:
This email is to notify you that in response to your all your hard work promoting www.beautifulagony.com, someone has joined the site and we have credited this referral to your promoter account.
You now have a total of 2 referrals credited to you.
Thank you for your work promoting www.beautifulagony.com, you now have enough referrals to claim one month’s free access. Please reply to this email, making sure you quote the text below so we can grant you access.
To whomever signed up at Beautiful Agony, thank you. Now, for one full month, I can watch people fake orgasms for free. At the very least, this might give me something to talk about for the next Smart Bitches Day.
Snark undoubtedly to follow. Hey . . . isn’t that Owen Wilson?
D.
Pills for balls to grow
I can understand why a man would take a pill that would make him swing a wider or longer pipe. As long as you gals continue to write posts like this, guys like me will continue to wish we could add an inch here and there. And there. And over there. Make that two inches.
But why would a guy want his balls to grow?
I heard that, Maureen. (If anyone would know, you would.) No, I am not obsessed with my testicles, despite the name of the blog, despite the fact I work gonadal references into most of my fiction, and despite my daily self-exams which are essential for the early detection of testicular carcinoma. No, I do not want them to grow. What would be the point?
Perhaps it’s cultural. A certain guy of a certain nationality that a certain one of my readers knew very well was exceedingly proud of his large testicles. But I suspect he was in the minority. Trust me on this: in the high school gym showers, we weren’t comparing nut sacks.
Last call for orgasms
The other day, I asked you to email me your favorite orgasmic passages. Thus far, my in box is orgasm-free. I ask you: how would you like to have an orgasm-free in box?
Romance or other genres, I don’t care. Right now, I don’t even care if they’re your favorites, or merely examples of execrable writing. This will be a blast, people, but I need your help.
I need you. Smart Bitches Day needs you. Do it for the orgasms.
For my email addy, scroll down to the bottom of the Le Petit Mort, Redux post below.
And thank you.
D.
Le petit mort, redux
You know what I want to know?
Why is this woman wearing her glasses?
Yeah, you guessed it, I’m hanging out at Beautiful Agony again.
If my blog brings one more client to Beautiful Agony, I’ll get a month of free orgasm videos. Wouldn’t that be the coolest thing, not just for me, but for all of us? Think of the blogging splendor you will have. A full month of sexual snarkiness. It could be special.
Okay, story time. On the last Smart Bitches Day, Kate was bemoaning the lack of pirate romance, so Beth posted this great snippet. I asked my billing person, Catrina, whether she knew of any pirate romances. Catrina reads romance novels — lots more than I do.
“The Captive series by Fern Michaels,” she said, and since I was ordering Laura Kinsale’s The Shadow and the Star anyway, I picked up what I thought was the first Captive book, Captive Embraces. Turns out I got #2. Why am I always doing that?
Damn, thought I, now I’ll have to go buy #1 so I can read them in order. But it occurred to me, maybe I ought to look at this one to see if I even like Ms. Michael’s style.
Mmm, not so much. The novel opens with a love scene. From page 2,
Each of her senses was heightened and filled by this man who could make her feel as though she’d never known another lover, who could make her believe she was created for his pleasure alone and, in giving that pleasure to him, find her own.
But I’m not one to pass on a book after two pages. Oh, no. I have to give it three.
Together they spun over the threshold of sensuality into the universe, whirling on a roll of thunder and blinded by a flashing bolt of rapture.
I can’t make this stuff up.
Today, I told Catrina, “Um, that Fern Michaels book? Sucks. Opens up with this sex scene where they come together, only she doesn’t say they come together, only some bullshit about spilling over into alternate universes and shit.”
“You were asking for pirate romances,” she said. “I never said it was any good. I couldn’t even finish the first one.”
Now she tells me.
But, it’s not all a waste, since Catrina indirectly gave me an idea for my next Smart Bitches Day post: the orgasm in literature.
Suggestions appreciated. This weekend, email me your favorite orgasm passages, and I’ll work them into what I hope will be a fine contribution to SBD. That email addy again:
azureus
at
harborside
dot
com
Later tonight, I hope: my review of V is for Vendetta.
D.
What’s in a word?
It’s Smart Bitches Day today. For your SBD, I’d like you to consider the English language’s second-most mercurial word (next to fuck), love. (more…)
Erection during waxing
I love, love scanning SiteMeter to see what searches are leading y’all to Balls and Walnuts.
Surprisingly, I’m only #3 (and #4, and #5) on an MSN search for “walnuts for penis health.” Is this what PBW means when she talks about branding?
Lots of folks who find me by searching for “sex contest” are doubtless disappointed by our Good Bad Sex Contest. I suspect they would have preferred that erotica site with the story about the two women, each working on the other’s husband to see who could make the other gal’s guy come for the third time first. Hey, I sympathize. I’d like to find that site again, too.