the elephant in the room
Some life updates in the hizzouse.
First off: I’m spending the summer interning at Nerve.com, that wonderful publication about smart sex. And because I want to keep that internship, that’s all I’ll say about life on the job. You can, however, check out what I’ve been doing on the site. First up: the very fun Sex Advice from Librarians! Second: A review of that wonderful Angelina Jolie vehicle, A Mighty Heart. More clips to come!
And because of other professional concerns (read: getting a job and not living off Ramen noodles post-graduation) I’ll probably talk about myself less, and professional stuff more.
But that don’t mean I’ll lay off on the sexy stuff. Check out, for instance, this story about National Porn Sunday on Feministing, where Christian fundies are using giant inflatable elephants to criticize the perilous menace of porn in our society.
You know what I”ll do to celebrate? Watch some porn. Cause I’m a red-blooded American like that.
More career-related news to come, readers. Thanks for listenin’.
Beyonce Knowles, Latex Goddess
Beyonce’s new video, “Green Light”:
Who knew Beyonce was such a kinky minx? I love it!
Twitterpated...
Yes, I joined the dark side.
Add me on Twitter! It’s a blog for attention deficit disorder-ed folk.
baby i'll show you my one track mind
Finals are kicking my ass.
That said, I will keep my Holidailies commitment by recommending this rather wonderful vidblog to you: 1trackmind, narrated by the winsome and wonderful Danielle and Lou. Watch as the twosome disuss sex in the news (Global Orgasm Day, anyone?), re-create that famous faux-orgasm scene in When Harry Met Sally (well, Danielle does, anyway) and recommend the best sex toys for your lov-ah this Navidad. Check it out! Many thanks to that handsome devil
wharton = slavery? paging kanye west!
The Yes Men, a leftist anti-globalization group, wrote this satirical article about a faux Wharton conference on “compassionate slavery,” where “private stewardship” is promoted as the next “great hope” for the African poverty crisis.
This wouldn’t necessarily be news—after all, The Onion writes shit like this all the time—except for this strange disclaimer on the Wharton African Business Forum webpage:.
Please note:.
A panelist for the Wharton Africa Business Forum misrepresented himself as being affiliated with the World Trade Organization (WTO). Based on that misrepresentation, the individual was invited to speak at the Forum, which was held on November 11, 2006 in Philadelphia. As soon as the conference organizers realized the misrepresentation perpetrated by this individual, the other panelists were immediately informed. Neither the conference organizers nor The Wharton School had or has any association with the individual nor do they endorse the individual’s views..
Regards,
Executive Team
Wharton Africa Business Forum.
Hmmm. Were the Yes Men trying to pull a Borat?
As much of an Ayn Rand readin’, NAFTA lovin’ capitalist as I am, if this KKK-inspirin’ parody rally had made it into the Huntsman ivory tower, I’d like to think that my Wharton colleagues wouldn’t be laissez-faire enough to promote human bodies for sale. But then again—and what would this blog be without some tongue-in-cheek Wharton snark—why would those blood suckin’ capitalists give a crud about human trafficking? After all, those kids have already sold their souls.
ivy league throwdown, what what?
If the divine Miss J—the vivacious AM New York sex columnist Julia Allison, that is—is to be believed, this blog apparently had haters before it even began. Damn, I feel important now. And, uh, Hateraded.
Sez Miss Allison on her blog about Daily Pennsylvanian blogger Chloe Hurley:
“She [Chloe Hurley] goes on to ennumerate all of the problems she has with sex columns, especially sex columns in the Ivy League (whew, one time I’m glad Georgetown didn’t make it in there, those Jesuit SOBs!):
For some reason, people seem to think that coupling an Ivy League setting with sex is the most riveting and raunchy combination ever. I think it’s getting pretty stale.
On top of it, every chick who’s tasted a Cosmopolitan thinks that she’s Carrie Bradshaw. Baby, just because you sit at home in front of your laptop in your underwear and can slur out some hackneyed puns don’t make you no Carrie Bradshaw. Drop a few pounds, take a journalism course, and try me again.”
....
Hmm … Is she referring to Miss Jessica “Out of Your (Ivy) League” Haralson? The Cosmo, the underwear, the … drop a few pounds?? That bitch! Jessica, you could totally take her. Catfight!
Julia, I wish Chloe was talking about me—‘cuz then I could feel all self-righteous and indignant, and who doesn’t need a pity party every now and then? Trouble is, Miz Hurley wrote her manifesto against Bradshaw wannabes on October 4th. And I started writing this blog on the 6th.
But for Julia’s sake, I’ll pretend that Chloe and I are TOTALLY FIGHTING. In a vat of baby oil. Wearing string bikinis. MY READERSHIP WILL TOTALLY GO UP THEN! MAYBE WE COULD RELEASE A SEX TAPE! BRING IT!!!!!!
(For the record, I kid. I <3 you, Chloe.)
And actually, I totally agree with Chloe’s entry. It’s no longer that transgressive to say “Well LOOKIT ME, I’m in the Ivy League, and I have sex!!@#!@#” College students are going to screw, and there’s nothing particularly relevant or insightful about said screwing—unless you grew up watching The 700 Club, of course.
So why do I write? I humbly propose that we should diss the writing (I’m looking at you, the shitfest that is Chloe does Yale), not the genre itself.The college sex columnist , a mainstay of our confessional culture, is here to stay —but instead of writing hackneyed observations about the art of blowjobs and the merits of fucking frat boys, why not write about, ya know, how sexuality relates to the world outside the Ancient Eight? Heck, New Jersey is practically enabling gay marriage. Abortion is getting discussed by the courts again. Evangelicals want everyone to have, like, ten million kids. On the Ivy League front, my alma mater is finally moving forward on prosecuting date-rape lurvin’ prof Tracy McIntosh. See? Plenty o’ relevance. Maybe that’s not as hot as imagining sex in the stacks, but at least it ain’t stale.
Or if you’re a young buck who wants to focus on the college world alone, let’s at least exorcise the Carrie Bradshaw demon. I always wondered why she wasn’t fired for writing ” I couldn’t help but wonder…” for the katillionth time. I can’t help but wonder when that show will be forgotten, so sex writers can cover prurient interests in (relative) peace. Seriously.
Or, I could just break out the oil and string bikinis and call this whole “writing” thing quits. Your choice, readership. Perhaps I could re-name this blog ”(Ivy) Girls Gone Wild?” Man, my momma is gonna be so proud.
crack that whip
It is Fall Break here at Penn. Perfect timing, too --the early dusk drapes over chilled afternoons like a closed shade, and the scarlet foliage falls Hogwarts-esque against the Quad's neo-Gothic splendor. I keep expecting Alan Rickman to scurry around the corridor, but unfortunately, my Severus Snape fix has yet to be satiated.The Chanel-clad masses have fled to New York City and Miami -- or, if they're more passe, their homes in Westchester or Scarsdale. My Texan family lives too far away for a trip to be worthwhile, so how have I decided to spend my break?
... With my favorite Dominatrix Next Door, of course!
Tonight consisted of dinner with Dominatrix Next Door (or DND for short) as well as the bisexual hubby of DND, where we discussed their foray into polyamorous perversions. We then came home, and made it a Blockbuster night: with a screening of Reefer Madness the Movie Musical, of course. We've seen the film about a katillion times, so we skipped to our favorite part of the musical:
DND wants to affect a "Mary Wanna' costume for Diabolique, the upcoming Philly-ish fetish ball. I have yet to dream up an outfit for the occasion. The last official SM haunt I've haunted was Paddles in NYC, and let's just say I was too busy avoiding the leers and catcalls of 50 year old men at the place to worry about picking the appropriate lingerie (or latex, or... well, you know).
And still, Halloween looms! What ever will I wear? Everyone, even the New York Times, is weighing in on the so-called slut-i-fication of Halloween couture. "Anti-feminist!" goes the invective. "Catering to male fantasies!"
I find something troubling in the suggestion that women would only want to dress sexy for male pleasure. I'm sure there are lasses out there who only don the French maid outfit to please Boyfriend, but could it be that they want to feel sexy, I ask? (Hell knows I'm not just buying La Perla for the appreciative compliments it will get me -- well-tailored silk feels luxurious, damnit!) Still, I think the jury's out on how "liberating" it is that we can only express the "whore" side of the "Madonna/whore" complex on one night of the year. We of the XX chromosome still feel uncomfortable expressing our sexual personas; Halloween is the only sanctioned time to do that for most "good girls. Seriously, what gives?
I could wax longer, but it is late and it is Saturday night, and DND's comfy couch beckons. Time to catch up on sleep debt -- have a lovely weekend, readers! And stay safe (and sexy) this Halloween.
bra-gasm
OK, clearly I've become an insufferable Youtube addict, but I couldn't hit the sack without sharing this Windows XP commercial that was so sex-ay it's currently banned in the US of A:Hah! If Windows OS controlled my sex life, I'd be an Apple convert before you could say "G-spot" five times fast.
laugh it up, fuzzball
I wrote this on the wall of a Harvard grad crush of mine, who has sold out his soul to work in consulting/crush the proletariat:
And we bantered in this Blackberry exchange, where we laughed about the fact that my middle name "Gold" snagged me an invite to the Jewish Libertarian facebook group (mind you, I'm as goy as they come):
Me: But you see, we should pretend I'm Jewish, just because Jewish/Muslim sex sounds like a great concept for a porno flick. Am I right or what?
Him:Yes but then that would defeat the whole purpose of civilization wars. Would you really want to put an end to modern religious warfare? Think about all those soldiers who need to feed their families!
Me: I'll be your Samuel P. Huntington and clash with YOUR civilization, baby.
I just crack myself up sometimes. Now I know what my $40,000 a year Ivy League education is paying for: witty one-liners with hot post-colonial boys.
