PART I: The Situation.
Boys and girls, pimps and hos, gather ’round the fan for a sec. It’s time for a little come-to-Jesus on the subject of date-trolling your friendly neighborhood Craigslist. Because it ain’t pretty, folks. You have stumbled, bumbled, and fumbled your way through ill-conceived form letters, capped-up hissy fits, demands of blowjobs and roses, and every spam-artist from NOLA to Nigeria.
This is what Craigslist is here for. Easily attained, NSA sex; used furniture; the occasional zombie sighting; and ultimately a refuge for the nerdy, BBW-sturdy, and sex-over-30 crowds. You prayed, you wept, you toiled and sweat, you wished upon a star domain and woke up to your wildest dreams. You are why Jesus turned a stack of moldy old Robert Heinlein novels into the internet.
So let us set things right. Let us lay down a few ground rules. A gauntlet, if you will, of style and sense. MORE>>
The ass end of my inbox is presently overstuffed with all sorts of prostate-milking missives, informing me of the commencement of May Masturbation Month. Invitations, solicitations, inducements, enticements, how-tos, tattle-ups, tips, tidbits, spreadsheets, stimulus packages, and world-weary slow-hands set forth to aid me through my marathon cumshaw over the next sideric month. Which I appreciate to no end; don’t get me wrong. But it is not like I need forward encouragement.
However, it did get me to thinking. You see, male masturbation is a far more multifarious thing than many women may suspect. It comes in a veritable gift-pack of flavors, shapes, sizes, and durations – set of course to the median cycle of the solar and synodic – la lune et en sof, who guide and gird our loins like a hundred million watts of focalized porn.
The three square meals of daily masturbation, after the jump. MORE>>
So, I’m on CollarMe today (wow, we really need a new whipping horse around here don’t we?) and notice that a person with an obviously fake photo viewed my profile. So, I clicked on over to their profile to be all, “Hey, ’sup fake picture! Tricking lots of horny guys today.” I get to reading and find a real treat. What is the best icing on the cake when you have a fake picture? How about a really inflammatory, rude, bitchy profile that makes sweeping generalizations about entire genders, sexual orientations, and types of kinky people?
We have hit pay dirt in the case of this user! “She” wants you to know right away who may not contact her:
No Dyke/Butch Females, NO Boi’s. NO TV’s, TS’s, I have nothing at all aginst any of you, I just do not want to interact with YOU! PERIOD.
Have a lovely day.
Doesn’t that completely empty platitude make you feel better? Here you were drooling over her snapshot of an 80s porn star and you were rejected. But she has nothing against you! She just doesn’t want you to even TALK TO HER. Now I’m not saying that people need to be equal opportunity fuckers, that would just be absurd and the very nature of attraction is discrimination (between who you have a taste for and who you don’t). But profiles like this come off as twat-tastic (not in the good way) and here is where we get to the real problem. See, she finally lets us know what she wants:
I only, enjoy desire, and will interact with Bi Sexual very femine “FEMALES”, “Born A female physically.
Oh, and guess what? I fit that category. I am in her winner’s circle but I’m turned off. See, I’m the only judgemental and pissy bitch that I want to fuck and I’ll do that with my Rock Chick (as opposed to a reject from “Rock of Love”) before I’ll buy into someone’s tacky stereotypes. Oh, didn’t think she was that offensive yet? How about this lovely analysis of the lesbian psyche:
I do not have interest in most lesbians, most do not understand the depth of the lifestyle, mainly because their deep seeded distaste for men cause them to not focuse on love, and most are just to jealous for a Mistress such as me.
Oh thanks Freud, tell me more please! I’m not even going to touch the fact that the spelling and grammar make my clit want to run away and hide in my uterus, no matter how you dice it, this sort of crap isn’t sexy. Guess what? You don’t need any excuse for ruling out a group of people that you’re not interested other than “No thanks, I’m not interested.” If someone asks you why? Well, repeat after me, “I’m not attracted to you.” Does that require insulting whole groups of people with negative stereotypes? Nope not at all.
When you write a personals profile that shows your ignorance you will get the exact opposite of what you want, I promise. The people that are just attracted to your shitty fake photo and don’t even read it will still message you. The ones that you are trying to attract, though? Well they won’t want you because you just sound mean. You want hot bi babes? Well, babe, don’t piss where you live.
Dominance and submission, or D/s, is a multi-fangled, multifarious ambit of decidedly wobbly orbit. We, your humble Junkbuzzers, are card-carrying members of this grumbling, bumbling, psychotropically crumbling sect, if not adherents to the creed (as well as occasionally disgruntled clients). So over the next few days, we’re going to take a nice big WAM-like (wet-and-messy, for the clean and uninitiated) splash into the into the shallow end of the D/s dating pool.
First up on our DRADIS-derivative pleasure-trawl is perhaps the most popular (because of its easy access) of the sadomasochistic personals sites, CollarMe.
I love CollarMe. It is the gen-pop of the D/s Penitentiary, where all factions collide in a huge, infected mass of Crazy and Demented (both registered trademarks of the D/s community), where everything is blown-up, out-of-proportion, and over-pixilated like a paparazzi’s sky-cam shot of Britney’s latest snatch-fest, until it becomes one engorged and puffy MRSA-like canker on the collective ass of sexual intelligence. The tricked-out Craigslist of the BDSM bailiwick, CollarMe is always entertaining, in the most exhaustingly exhaustive sense possible.
I should take a moment to point out, that without CollarMe, this site would not exist. I am a random and ofttimes mean-spirited troll on CollarMe, always looking for something/one to poke fun at. And in my travels through CollarLand, I came across one particular profile from a lovely young lady who asked that any and all respondents include a the word ‘unicorn’. I could not resist the challenge, and, well…read Ellie’s post to get the rest of the story.
And as for our verdict on CollarMe, the Paddle of Truth says: well…it’s free. That’s a plus. But the chances of you finding your one true O/Severin/Sleeping Beauty there are not very good. Unless you like ‘em good and crazy. Or you’re really into Norse-Pagan-Polyamory. In which case, get to clicking!
It is a bit of an understatement to suggest that this is not the best time to be an American soldier. You know the story: two wars, both ill-conceived and managed with nary a shred of competence; rampant foreclosures on the homefront, many falling upon the families of the soldiers abroad. And a profound refusal of the Senate to upgrade the articles of the GI Bill, as the military is afraid of treating their soldiers too fairly. Because, you know, happy soldiers might be less inclined to dodge roadside bombs and kill things.
And then there is the coup de grace, the proverbial money shot which the religious right (in the you-can’t-too visage of Donald E. Wildmon) and their senatorial adherents have tossed off across the collective nose of the military’s men and women with greater incivility and eye-stinging fluidity than the hardest of hardcore S&M porn. Specifically in the glory loophole-closing of the Military Honor and Decency Act, which, according to its anal-retentive architect, Rep. Paul E. Broun, would disallow the sale of any materials deemed pornographic or obscene on military installations.
The offending materials? Playboy and Penthouse.
A pork-barreled paucity of decency awaits after the jump. MORE>>
On an average day when I check the messages I receive on Collarme, I get to experience a range of emotions. It can go anywhere from sorrow, to pity, to rage, to joyous laughter. Most of the time it is confusion. How can a bunch of people that are trying SO fucking hard really be trying so little?
After the ninth message in the day that clearly hadn’t read my profile, I decided to do things a little differently. Using the handy LOLspeak translator I made a significant change in my profile. Ironically, the translator mostly just re-spells words in the LOL dialect so the message of my profile doesn’t sound any different, but it looks pretty different. All caps and almost no words spelled correctly. So what was the aftermath?
The messages kept rolling in seemingly unaware that they were talking to the LOLswitch. They got an abrasive reply that was sent conveniently through the translator.
My outgoing messages ranged from the simple and sweet, “O HAI!” to the more complex “O, IM JUS WRITIN POST ON MAH WEBLOG BOUT HOW STOOPID AN DESPERATE MOST PEEPS ON DIS SIET R. NORMAL DAI, RLY.”
You would think that using the standard LOL dialect, most people would get what I was up to. NOWAI JOSE! I still got the same range of idiotic fake internet Domery and useless platitudes. Some had entire conversations with the LOLswitch where I regularly insulted them and they either missed it or were too horny to care.
Honestly, this is the most fun I’ve had with internet dating since I lost my virginity. So, take the LOLdating challenge. Copy the entire text of your profile on any dating site into the translator and doctor up your profile photos with the LULZ. Stand back and wait for the funnies to roll in.
And let us know what happens!
We don’t think that the suffocation death of a Tennessee man from a bondage scene gone wrong is particularly funny. We read the news a few days ago and felt a bit sad just like news of any senseless death. But, since rope and ball-gags were involved it has become a much bigger story and the media outlets are falling over themselves to play up the salacious angle. Actual
media fuckery headlines related to the story:
Wife Held in Kinky Hubby’s Bondage Death
Woman Offs Husband in Sex Ritual
Wife Accused Of Deadly Sex Crime
Woman Left Her Husband for 20 Hours Bound, Gagged
Of course everyone knows that headlines like this grab readers and viewers. Death and allegations of murder are always sexy but if you add in kinky fetish sex bondage rituals, they can only get sexier. Instead of clucking mournfully, though, take this chance to familiarize yourself with smart play practices. (Pro tip: They don’t include leaving a bound person alone, ever)
So Ellie sent me a link to FetLife.com the other day. And of course I was terribly excited about it. In my head like sugar plum fairies danced a Ziegfeld line of naked girls with Boba Fett helmets chanting in unison, “as you wish!”
The second thing I thought of was Met Life. Growing up as a fan of the New York Metropolitans ballclub, commercial intros and outros were populated with Met Life logos. (And a wonderfully inebriated Ralph Kiner. Anyone who grew up watching WWOR surely remembers Kiner throwing to commercial in his own inimitable fashion: “and now a word from Manufacturer’s Hangover.”)
Spool up your FTL drives to Spank! and prepare for the jump! MORE>>