Tag: Humor

It was different in my brain

The image below  – courtesy of Mistress Evilyne’s twitter feed – made me laugh. I’ve seen many variations of the image on the left scattered across tumblr, but never stopped to think exactly how effective it might be. There is a reason why fingers and opposable thumbs conquered the world.

Of course fantasy and reality often don’t line up. I never fantasized about having plastic wrap draped over my face while someone squeezed my balls and shoved a metal rod down my urethra, but when it happened it was awesome. On the flipside, I did often fantasize about being trampled by two beautiful women in leather boots, and when it happened it was…fine…I guess. I mean, I’d do it again, but the reality didn’t match the fantasy. The floor was uncomfortable and hitting the sweet spot between good pain and the ‘I think you cracked my rib’ pain was tricky.

The life lesson is probably that you should explore your fantasies, but don’t get too attached to them. There’s a lot of stuff that’s way more awesome in reality than you’d ever guess. And a lot of stuff that’s best left in the mental spank bank.

Say it with knives

I’ve always disliked Valentine’s Day. It seems designed to make singles feels lonely and couples feel like they aren’t romantic enough. Fortunately, I have friends who feel the same way, so I had dinner at their place this year,  playing many games of ‘tag you’re it’ with their children. Six year olds may be horribly cheaters when it comes to tag, but it was still better than being crammed into a restaurant and dealing with harried servers.

That said, being single at Valentines can sometimes work out. I remember visiting LA in February a few years back and being very puzzled how hard it was to get a dinner reservation. It wasn’t until I snagged one and arrived at the restaurant that I realized what day it was. I was the single solo male in sea of couples. The menu was 9 courses of shared plates, which the kitchen obviously couldn’t be bothered to re-portion for their one confused single. So they sent me what was literally dinner for two for half the price.  Then the next day I went and got my ass kicked by a fabulous domme. That turned out to be a pretty good Valentines.

This is from How to Kill Your Husband by Kathy Lette.

Parallel Universe

Photographer Eli Rezkallah has created an amusing twist on sexist vintage advertising in a series called Parallel Universe. I’m sure a lot of my readers will have encountered his inspiration material in articles like this one. It’s classic clickbait, guaranteed to both amuse, appall and make you marvel how far the world has moved on. He’s taken specific original ads and reshot them with a gender reverse.

I like the idea, but can’t help feeling that there’s a missed opportunity for the companies here. A lot of them are still around. For example, you can still buy Chase & Sanborn coffee, creators of the original ad below. They should reshoot their ad themselves with the gender reverse (or use just Eli’s version) and issue it as a new ad. They could claim it was a both a joke and an implicit acknowledgement of their past mistakes. It’d get loads of publicity  and generate social media controversy – both of which appear to be the primary goals of modern advertising.

Thirst for Knowledge

Much as I appreciate the attractive ladies in the tight dresses, what really makes this image for me is his enthusiastic expression. There is a man with a powerful hunger for some forbidden fruit. If he’d be in the Garden of Eden, that tree would have been stripped bare of apples before God knew what was going on. The serpent wouldn’t even have had time to get his famous sales pitch out. He’d have been less an evil tempter, and more that poor unfortunate creature who got trampled to death as man rushed to grab the fruit of the tree.

According to Wikipedia it’s only in Western Europe that the forbidden fruit is commonly identified as an apple. Other possibilities include grapes, figs and pomegranates. Those actually make more sense to me. I always thought that forbidden fruit should suggest sensuality, temptation and decadence. Apples are perfectly fine as fruit, but they’re also very sensible and boring.  They’re the missionary position with the lights low. Nobody should get kicked out of paradise for that.

This is Ms Renee Trevi with USAFETISH taken from this tweet on her twitter feed.

Should have used more lube

I had all sorts of serious posts to write today. Yet here I am, featuring this image from CNN. I just couldn’t resist it. Great headline? Or the greatest headline?

I can only assume that Senator Collins was wielding something like the weapon below and was sparing on the lube. Poor Donald. It does of course beg the question – what would his safeword be? Typically you’d pick something you’d never say accidentally. So I guess “Sorry” would work pretty well.

Introduce Yourself

Contacting a professional domme I’ve not talked to before is always an interesting experience. There’s a surprising degree of variance in the process. Some dommes are immediately chatty and responsive, others assume I’m a time waster until proven otherwise. Sometimes there’s a lot of protocol, other times it’s a more relaxed and casual discussion. Deposits may or may not be required, as might a telephone chat. Some dommes want lots of detail on my interests, experiences and limits. Others save all that for when we meet in person.

There’s one phrase that occasional pops up in the initial emails that always makes me smile. The wording can vary, but it’s generally something like – “Describe how you want to serve me.” I totally get why this phrase is popular  – it emphasizes the power dynamic and makes it clear who is ultimately in charge of what happens in the session. At the same time it does wake up a couple of contrarian personalities that lurk within me.

My practical inner engineer wants to reply that I can only serve someone if I know what they need doing at this particular point in time and how my skill set might mesh with that set of requirements. So maybe if they send their list of problems and I send my list of skills, maybe we can figure something out? I’ve never succumbed to my inner engineer because I fear the problems will turn out to be a dirty car and being insufficiently rich, and I’ll end up paying $300 an hour to scrub brake dust off a dommes hubcaps.

My snotty inner brat wants to reply that I’d like to serve her by dragging my middle-aged out-of-shape ass to her  well equipped play space so the skilled and attractive domme in question can greet me in one of her exciting fetish outfits.  Then I’d like to continue serving her by exploring together some of the kinky activities that I most enjoy. Finally, I’ll complete my service by getting dressed and going home to collapse on the couch with a glass of wine while she clears up the play space. Needless to say, my snotty inner brat is never allowed anywhere near a session negotiation.

Like I said, and sarcasm aside, I do understand the motive behind that expression. I just find that in emphasizing the fantasy, it actually highlights how far a typical professional session can be from it. In the vast majority of cases it’s service topping, not service bottoming.

Here’s a man selflessly serving by allowing himself to be tied up and have his cock played with by a naked lady. It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it.

Boys and Men

While I appreciate the sentiment, I’m not sure it’s entirely accurate. If memory serves, I’m fairly sure strong women excited me as a boy as well as a man. I guess the slogan ‘Strong women intimidate adult males who are figuratively boys, while exciting adult males who are figuratively men as well as some literal boys’ might not have fitted.

Regrets, I had a few.

As we turn the final corner and make the run down the home straight towards the end of the year, it’s inevitable that thoughts turn to our omissions in 2017. What did we miss out on? Where should we have tried harder? What could we have achieved with just a little more effort? None of us are perfect, and I’m sure we all end the year with regrets.

For me, I think the answer would have to be face slapping. I really should have been hit harder and more frequently in the face. On the whole I did well on nipple piercing, got a passing grade in anal play, and certainly didn’t let the side down when it came to CBT and electrical play. But I can count on one hand the number of times I got a good solid slap to the face. Really must try harder in 2018. This face isn’t going to bruise itself.

I’m afraid I don’t have an attribution for this image.

Tarantino-esque

This popped up on my twitter feed the other day, courtesy of Mistress Kinako. Oddly enough, it put me in mind of Quentin Tarantino. He’s the master of taking an old and slightly disreputable film genre and giving it a post-modern makeover. In this case it’d be a schlocky 70’s zombie horror movie. In the Tarantino remake the only thing between civilization and the ravenous zombies are a group of highly trained Japanese schoolgirls, capable of slicing and dicing zombies in many inventive ways whilst also looking cute and keeping their uniforms clean. In this particular shot they’ve captured a zombie for study and experimentation. I’m sure that there’s absolutely no chance he’ll break free of those ropes and go marauding through the underground research lab in act two.

Watch out for bears

I’m guessing that most of us have used the 1 to 10 pain scale at some point. Maybe to explain to a doctor how exactly that weird thing you did to your back feels. Maybe to explain to a domme how severe that new whippy cane she just got is. Of course, the numbers are all very subjective and personal, so here is one persons attempt to put objective measurements in place.

I think it’s from a medical source rather than a kinky one. It’d be fun to come up with kinky alternatives and pictures for each level, although that’d require way more artistic talent than I posses. I did like one suggested change I saw, which was that 10 should be ‘Stepped on a Lego brick’.