Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Category Archives: Sex
Friday Flickr Babes: nude, of course
Untrusting, originally uploaded by Delerina.
Dean, I think you’ll like Delerina’s portfolio. Let me know.
I would like to take this opportunity to alert you to an overlooked health problem that afflicts roughly 50.5% of the general population: PSAS — Priapic Sleep Arousal Syndrome. While REM Sleep Behavior Syndrome (violent physical outbursts during dream sleep) has a more dramatic presentation, it is still an uncommon condition. Priapic Sleep Arousal Syndrome, on the other hand, can strike anyone burdened with unsatisfied erectile tissue.
Extreme cases are easily recognized (pdf):
His wife also reported episodes of amnestic sexual behavior that began 4 years before referral. During the episodes, the patient typically procured his wife, achieving complete sexual intercourse with total amnesia. Episodes of sexual behavior during sleep occurred once a month. His wife remained in bed with him after the episodes. The patient did not consent to being videotaped.
The 50.5% figure may be an underestimation by nearly 100%, as erection during REM sleep (dream sleep) is not limited to men.
A man experiences penile erections; a woman experiences clitoral engorgement.
Priapic Sleep Arousal Syndrome: a silent killer!
Prevent Priapic Sleep Arousal Syndrome!
Fuck Your Spouse Today
D.
Porno Pimpage!
O’Brien did it. I could only imagine doing it, but she did it. She wrote a Thursday Thirteen composed of YouPorn video links.
Admittedly, it’s not a Thursday Thirteen (it’s a Thursday Nineteen, by my count), not all of the links go to YouPorn, and the links are so varied one would have a difficult time finding some overarching theme. Except for the porn, of course. “Favorite” YouPorn videos? No, some of these are pretty gross. “Most Interesting” YouPorn videos? Naw. She missed the one of the guy who put his whole head into a woman’s vagina*, and that one she’s watching here? I have standards. I won’t watch any YouPorns with a rating below 2.
(Seriously, that looked like one boring video. Far more interesting, and erotic, watching O’Brien’s reaction to that crappy video.)
She did it all for the sake of journalism. Once again proving that I chose the wrong profession. To think, right now I could be groveling before Mistress Matisse, and when Karen complains about it, I’d say, “It’s for this piece I’m writing. Deal with it.” Then I would race into the other room for my, “Bwahahahahahahaaaa!”
On the other hand, if I ever publish my romance, I can declare that my next novel will focus on the BDSM community, and I Must Do Research!
Yeah. That’ll work.
D.
*And another personal favorite, Woman Giving Birth To Cell Phone.
GallimauFriday III: the Gonadal Special
Hat tip to Indecision 2008 for tonight’s NEWSFLASH: Hillary Clinton Denies Desire For Sweet Caress of a Woman’s Tongue.
Regulars here know I’m not a big Hillary fan. But asking her to comment on rumors that she’s a lesbian? Why, that’s as irrelevant as asking the Republican Presidential candidates if they troll airport bathrooms for long-shlonged dudes, or tryst with mommified dominatrices who let them poop their Pampers. Ask them if they’ve ever appeared in drag while you’re at it.
***
For those of you who missed yesterday’s story: it’s true. We do think with our nuts. Or at least, the potential is there:
Men have a source of potentially life-saving stem cells between their legs.
A team of American researchers has found a way to easily identify stem cells in the testicles of adult mice that can be coaxed to turn into brain cells, muscle cells, heart cells, blood cells and even blood vessels.
One day, they say, male patients may be able to turn to their own testicles as a source of stem cells to repair an ailing heart or kidney or to fix the brain damage caused by Alzheimer’s or Parkinson’s disease.
Thus explaining the commonplace mid-21st Century catch phrase, “Saved by the balls!”
***
It’s Yom Kippur. Have you asked Stephen Colbert for forgiveness yet? I would, except I haven’t wronged the guy.
I’d call and make shit up, but I suspect that wouldn’t be in keeping with the Yom Kippur spirit.
***
Speaking of balls. From the Department of Testicular Atrophy: Vicente Fox writes that George Bush, “windshield cowboy,” is afraid of horses.
***
And here’s someone that should stimulate a fair share of gonads out there . . .
Smart Bitches Day: Who says it ain’t still Summer?
My first thought on Summer Devon‘s new erotica novel, Revealing Skills: damn, that cover model looks like Geena Davis. My second thought, experienced while trying to find an image to prove the first thought: damn, there are a lot of topless photos of Geena Davis on the Intertubes!
Here’s the review. Revealing Skills? Loved it. Cue William S. Burroughs’s voice: “I give it five out of five erect penises.” Actually, Burroughs wouldn’t have given it any erect penises, but he could surely have drawled that line with all the gravitas it deserves.
Gilrohan’s a shape-shifter spying for his king. In fesslerat-form, he’s captured by one scullery maid and saved by another — Tabica, a comely slave with the odd ability to understand his squeaks. And that isn’t her only power. Her touch transforms him back into a man, which is convenient, really, since human-fesslerat sex would be an entirely different kind of erotica.
Tabica has all kinds of power, much of it centered in her womb. She’s the vagina dentata of female love interests. Gilrohan recognizes her for what she is: the rarest and most powerful of magicians, an ereshkigal. Her abilities are wild from a lack of childhood training, possibly as dangerous to her as they are to any man foolish enough to bed her. Can Gilrohan rescue Tabica — and himself — from Lord Lerae’s castle, and can he survive the charms of her warm, wet, and fuzzy?
She again lightly stroked his penis, which twitched, delighted by her smallest attention.
Thank God it’s a penis and not a member or a man-shaft or whatever else some of you erotica writers call it.
Gray Anatomy
Grief, originally uploaded by poppinsgarden.
From the GW Hatchet:
Senior James Daley woke up one morning naked and drunk in an unfamiliar apartment with condoms strewn about the room. A girl next to him rolled over and introduced herself.
“My first thought was, where am I?” Daley said. “My second was that I have to get out of here as fast as possible.”
A friend filled Daley in about how he met the girl later that day.
“I guess she bought me a lot of drinks that night,” Daley said. “And then when a friend tried to take me home she said ‘no, I think I’ll take him home.'”
Daley said he felt taken advantage of and would not have hooked up with her if he had not been so drunk.
Was this rape? Sexual assault?
. . . . (snip) . . . .Yet many students such as Daley consider such encounters a part of college life, however unfortunate they may sometimes be. Advocacy groups have begun calling situations where consent or denial is unclear “gray rape.” Students say it occurs every weekend in places including dorm rooms, bars and fraternity houses.
I’m not so naive as to think this didn’t happen when I was in college. But does gray rape really exist, and if it does, is it becoming more prevalent? Drug abuse and alcoholic binges are on the rise, and the resultant impaired judgment is likely a key factor in rape, gray or otherwise. That’s not the whole story, however.
Thirteen Things I Learned From Cosmo: the Jessica Alba Edition
I don’t have a normal life. No doctor does. Ours is a calling that balances sacrifice with privilege, and it is for each physician to decide, at the end of the day or at the end of a career, if it has all been worthwhile. I’m not a regretful man (much), but like any doctor, I’m so distant from the mainstream of humanity that I sometimes forget the things that are truly important.
And that’s why I always return to Cosmo — to keep me grounded.
This month’s teasers include:
- His #1 SEX Fantasy. His. Not mine. Although I wouldn’t toss this sex fantasy out of bed for laying refried bean farts.
- Could Your Man Be Gay? That totally ripped plumber you found him in bed with last week might be a clue!
- “My Boyfriend Didn’t Change His Boxers for 3 Months!” Stop writing letters to Cosmo, Mom. And . . .
- JESSICA FRICKIN’ ALBA. Maybe we’ll find out if she has a thing for married, middle-aged, balding hobbits.
And after the spanking, the oral sex
But first, I have to distract my son. Look, Jake!
An interview with the creators of HomeStarRunner.
HomeStarRunner live at the Cork Opera House.
A special tribute to HomeStarRunner.
World of Warcraft meets The Simpsons.
World of Warcraft level 70 warlock action — with Nine Inch Nails background music.
World of Warcraft music video for Nine Inch Nails “Hurt”.
That’ll keep you busy. Nothing below the fold. Nothing at all.
The Talk
I figure if my eleven-year-old son wants his sheets changed, he can damn well strip his own bed and bring everything to the washing machine. However, once a year or so, his sheets achieve sentience and cry out to me in their filthy anguish.
“I suppose we might start finding crumpled Kleenexes under his bed soon,” I said to Karen last night before we went to sleep.
“Kleenexes? Is that what you used?”
“I think so.”
I remember stuffing them between the bed and the wall, where no one would be any the wiser. Like me, my mother never made my bed or washed my sheets, not that I ever noticed.
“How old were you?” Karen said.
“Twelve, I think. I woke up one morning with a mess in my shorts and figured the plumbing was working. Some time after that, I checked.”
Rude fruit
Don’t make me explain this.
Live Blogging starts sometime between 7 and 8 PM PST tonight. See ya soon!
D.
The queef story
Soon after my 21st birthday, my brother took me to a San Gabriel Valley strip club called The Other Ball. This place has to be the most upscale nudie bar I’ve ever been to, which means it has all been a downhill experience since then. But really, the women were stunning, and (unlike all my subsequent strip joint experiences) they knew how to dance.
Follow me below the fold for some nasty, nasty fun. (If you are my son, under the age of 18, a family member, a patient, or a hospital administrator, please click here. And no, you can’t go below the fold. No, no, NO.)