On Masculinity: the Body Polyptych

OR,
          LET’S GET A MOCHA AND TALK ABOUT THE BUBONIC PLAGUE
We’re not ones to bash anyone’s kink, considering that the Junkbuzzed staff is comprised mainly of people who like to hit, be hit, or both. But there are times when we as almost-rational adults need to put our feet down (we blog in spreader bars) and call out all the ‘Dark Ones’ who spend way too much time indoors, listening to old Bauhaus records and obsessively reading Anne Rice and Poppy Z. Brite books. We will, however, abstain from the obligatory mom’s basement cracks. Because we used to sort of like Orson Scott Card. Besides. Not everybody has basements.
Because, um…there are certain things that one doesn’t say when they’re trying to attract a mate. Take, for example, this hemoglobin-deficient buffet table of profiles from VampireFreaks.com, after the bat-metamorphosing jump. MORE>>

Craigslist is like the blue cheese of the internet. It’s a piquant Gorgonzola with a gentle hint of venereal infraction and oh-what-the-hell-it’s-Friday-and-I-ain’t-got-no-baby bi-curiosity. It goes well with anything acidic, like sarcasm, penicillin, and federal racketeering charges.
Craigslist epitomizes the you-can-too spirit of the internet, in that it takes on all comers (literally, figuratively, and esoterically), and sets them loose in the e-wilds of transactive fulfillment. How blue-veined your soul becomes is entirely dependent on the ph of your desperation. (And desperation is equal to or greater than the sum total of your grammatical errors.)
The beauty of Craigslist is in its simplicity; that, like in any blue cheese, the base fromage can be anyone or anything. For instance. Cute, HWP girl looking for a drama-free hepcat with tattoos who match hers? Penicillium camemberti. Stray dog in need of a quick, consequence-free nut? Penicillium roqueforti, all the way, baby.
Nobody gets it right the first time, folks. So please enjoy this practice quiz from your friends at Junkbuzzed. Match up the people seeking on the left with the people sought on the right. Think of it as the tree-cave from The Empire Strikes Back:
Luke: “What’s in there?” Yoda: “Only what you take with you.”
HINT: “Not Choosy” is assumed, not stated. And, uh…try not to lose your head.
- If you are a Mountie and put up a personal ad looking for a nice transsexual or transgendered girl to settle down with, then the Royal Canadian Mounted Police would rather you did not include a picture of yourself in full dress reds.
- An enterprising young inventor was indicted for selling a “men’s enhancement” food supplement called Boom. The main ingredients? Chocolate and Viagra.
- They say every man thinks with his penis. Especially when it comes to Craigslist. Now you can find out how smart your penis really is - there’s a new online dating service for the sex-starved intelligentsia. The catch? You have to pass an IQ test in order to join. Who wants to place bets on how quickly it devolves into a bunch of MIT developers emailing their man-junk amongst each other?
- A sort-of update on the link between masturbation and a decrease in a man’s chances of developing prostate cancer. Bottom line? Keep jackin’ it.
- Thirteen alleged sorcerers have been arrested, accused of using that old black magic to, uh…steal or shrink men’s penises. That’s what you get when you steal the number of the guy in front of you.

From SSO.net: Claire King is a firm believer in the principles of BDSM. A harsh mistress of song, she’s the new Ilsa, She-Wolf of the Australasian Gay and Lesbian Choir, who in short order will doubtless be known as the Down Under Genitorturers. Set pieces will be provided by Tinto Brass, and there’s sure to be a ton of - oh. Um. Wait. I, uh, actually finished reading the article. Clarie’s own BDSM stands for…
- Balance (Um, sure. A good dominant never wants to see a submissive suddenly tip over during a session.)
- Discipline (Now we’re talking)
- Synchronicity (Orgasm control? Or is she going to whip them until they start liking Sting?)
- Musicality (A bit of a stumper, I’ll admit. I have never asked a submissive to break into song. But it isn’t a hard limit.)
Sting, on the other hand, is a hard fucking limit.
