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There’s a Donald Trump sex doll, because of course there is
10.19.2015
10:39 am
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There’s a Donald Trump sex doll called the Blow Up Trump which is made 100% in CHINA and sells for $39.00. Now I’m not seeing any, um, er, orifices, so perhaps this blow up Trump would make an awesome pool float?

From the Saint Hoax website:

Political leaders are our own personal sex dolls. We need them to fulfill a certain undisclosed pleasure. We purchase a humbled vinyl body and blow it up into a leader. 

With each breath, we exhale expectations. With each expectation, we exhale power. Then that power shapes into a figure.

As we stare directly into the painted eyes of our new saviors, we realize that they cannot see us. Although we’d like to think more of them, our blown up leaders are filled with nothing but air, and they are a needle POP away from going back to the hollow vinyl exterior they once were.

~snip

“I’m putting the people on notice that are coming here from Syria as part of this mass migration. If I win, they’re going back” Donald Trump stated during an evening rally held in Keene, New Hampshire.

As a response, Saint Hoax created the Blow Up Trump. The net proceeds of the project will be donated to the UNHCR: UN Refugee Agency.

The Blow Up Trump is still in its pre-order phase. I’m not gonna lie though, I’m still partial to the Donald Trump Butt Plugs. They’re just more… practical.


 

 

Posted by Tara McGinley
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10.19.2015
10:39 am
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So you wanna f*ck a Republican?: Dirty political confessions (NSFW)
10.19.2015
07:49 am
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001dickpol001.jpg
 
I can honestly say I’ve never been aroused by the thought of having sex with a politician. Not just because most politicians are middle-aged guys with halitosis, bad hair and ego problems, but because politicians are on that “no fly zone” of occupations (along with dentists, proctologists and genitourinary doctors) who for me can never ever be hot, sexy, or remotely attractive. I know, I know, it’s my loss, but you know, I don’t mind—I can live without their alleged charms.

However, it would appear that I am in a minority—as there are many, many people out there who do fantasise about politicians and how they’d like these SOBs to fuck ‘em till they bleed, or reciprocate by tonguing and fingering their oval office. If that’s the party you’d vote for, well three cheers, for there’s a place where you can cast your vote and ‘fess up your secret political desires.

Once it might have been an App, but now it’s a Tumblr—this time a page called Playing Dirty, where peeps anonymously share their “Dirty Political Confessions.” These secret soundbites are plastered over a suitable image of the fantasy object and posted for everyone to..er…enjoy. Admittedly a lot of the naughty secrets involve British politicians like Prime Minister David Cameron—even after all that pig-fucking nonsense—and Margaret Thatcher (apparently someone’s idea of a “MILF”) but there are plenty of unbridled fantasies about Mitt Romney, George W. Bush, “Tricky Dicky” and Hillary Clinton.
 
005gwbdirtpol005.jpg
 

It begins with me being hired to have sex with Bush Jr. I discreetly enter his hotel suite where I find him laying in bed wearing nothing but his socks. I start by tonguing his sweaty taint and asshole until he can’t take it anymore and shoves his cock down my throat, calling me a slut while I gag on his forceful plunges. He then throws me on the bed and fucks me in various positions throughout the night.

 
003hilditypol003.jpg
 

I want to sit Hillary Clinton on the desk of the Oval Office and make her come with my tongue and fingers so many times she wouldn’t know her own name any more.

 
00pryan00.jpg
 

Paul Ryan is a sexy beast. The moment I laid eyes on him I wanted him to fuck me. The way he fights for control and resists his angry urges is a huge turn on. I want him to tie me up in shackles and whip me, bite me, and fuck me till I bleed.

 
More wet dreams of our noble leaders, after the jump…

READ ON
Posted by Paul Gallagher
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10.19.2015
07:49 am
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Behold the National Pork Queen! Vintage photos of bizarre beauty contests & queens
10.13.2015
08:21 am
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Elmira Humphries, Miss Radio Queen - 1939
Elmira Humphries, Miss Radio Queen - 1939
 
From “Miss Beautiful Ape” to “The Diaper Queen” of Chicago in 1947, there there are a seemingly endless variety of strange beauty contests that have been crowning queens since early 1900s.
 
Miss Beautiful Ape contest, Century City, California - 1972
Miss Beautiful Ape contest, Century City, California - 1972
 
Take for instance the “Miss Beautiful Ape” contest that was held in Los Angeles back in the early 70s. Put on by disc jockey and television personality Gary Owens (whose golden pipes announced the comedy variety show Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In) in Century City, the contest was a promotion vehicle for the Planet of the Apes film franchise. The winner of the contest, Dominique Green (contestant number two on the far right) was awarded a role in the fifth (and final) Planet of the Apes film, 1973’s Battle for the Planet of the Apes.

Naturally, all of these “contests” were means for some sort of revenue generating scheme, and not so much the prestige associated with being crowned “Miss Diaper Queen” (contestants were required to wear cloth diapers), “Miss Lube Job” for the local auto repair shop or “Miss NRA” for which contestants sported a huge fake “tattoo” of the National Rifle Association blue eagle emblem on their back. In some cases, NRA contestants placed a stencil of the emblem on their backs while sunbathing so the logo could be displayed by way of their tan lines. Wow.
 
Miss NRA contestants being judged in Miami, 1930
Miss NRA contestants being judged in Miami, 1930
 
Contestants in the Miss NRA contest in Miami, 1930s
Miss NRA contestants with blue eagle NRA logo tan lines, 1930
 
More images from bizarre beauty contests of the past, after the jump…

READ ON
Posted by Cherrybomb
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10.13.2015
08:21 am
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Happy Birthday Aleister Crowley!
10.12.2015
02:50 pm
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Happy Crowleymass, everyone! Aleister Crowley, thee Great Beast 666 was hatched from a dragon’s egg on October 12, 1875. The eccentric English mage, poet, painter and gourmet rice chef would be 140 years old today if, um, he could like live forever or something…

As somewhat of a noted Crowley buff, I’m often asked “Where is a good place to start reading Aleister Crowley?” and this is a difficult question to answer because, in truth, you have to read, pretty much, all of it to make sense of any of it. Going down the Crowley rabbit hole is comparable, I think, to being a scholar of James Joyce because achieving a proper understanding of the subject takes years of study, decades even (and then what are you going to DO with all that arcane knowledge, anyway, smartass?). But one source that I will point curious folk to is the late Tim Maroney’s excellent “Introduction to Crowley (in Five Voices)” which I published in my Book of Lies anthology back in 2004.

Below, I discuss Uncle AL on the History Channel TV series, How Sex Changed The World. I had fun doing this show and I got to explain a general concept of sex magick to middle America! Good times! The Crowley segments starts around 19:30.
 

Posted by Richard Metzger
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10.12.2015
02:50 pm
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The not so ancient art of ‘erotic’ origami
10.12.2015
01:20 pm
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Erotic origami by Mark Kirschenbaum
Erotic origami design by Marc Kirschenbaum
 
Even the ancient art of origami—the process of creating three-dimensional objects by folding paper which originated in Asia in the late 1600s—is not devoid of renegade artistic deviants that have mastered the craft. There are even a few books that have been published hoping to spread the good word about porn-y paper folding. Erotic origami, where have you been all my life?
 
Erotic
Erotic origami by Nick Robinson
 
In 2004, London-based artist Nick Robinson put out a book called Very Naughty Origami. In it, Robinson provides step-by-step diagrams of how to create titillating folded paper figures such as his “Schwanstucker.” Robinson’s “schwanstucker” (named for Terri’s Garr’s use of the word in Young Frankenstein to describe the size of Frankenstein’s monster member), is an anatomically correct folded paper penis. That, according to the description in Robinson’s book, also happens to move when you squeeze it.
 
How to fold an origami penis by Master Sugoi
How to fold an origami penis by Master Sugoi
 
Later that year, an artist going by the name of Master Sugoi coined the excellent phrase “pornogami” for his book, Pornogami: Original Erotic Origami. In the book, Sugoi teaches aspiring pornogamists to fold paper into erotic shapes like a penis, vulva, and boobs, among other things.

Then, in 2008, artist Marc Kirschenbaum put out his take on sexy paper folding with his book, Erotic Origami. Kirschenbaum is fond of creating paper figures in various states of getting it on (pictured at the top of this post and below). Nice.
 

“Doggy style” origami by Marc Kirschenbaum
 
If this all sounds good to you (and I’m pretty sure it does), check out some more examples of “pornogami” after the jump. Since pornogami has the word “porn” in it, I think it’s safe to say that the images are NSFW.

READ ON
Posted by Cherrybomb
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10.12.2015
01:20 pm
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On strip mall handjobs and sexless marriages: A first look at ‘Dead Bedrooms’
10.09.2015
03:45 pm
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Many longtime DM readers will recognize the name of Bradley Novicoff, a founding editor here at Dangerous Minds and one of my dearest friends for over 25 years (we met when we were… um… babies. 25-year-old babies, but babies nonetheless). He was also my producer for the Disinformation TV series and Bradley’s now applying a few new reality-bending techniques to his latest project, Dead Bedrooms, an innovative drama/documentary hybrid that examines sexless relationships. The script, to me, plays like a kinky Catfish meets the 80s Belgian cult favorite Man Bites Dog.
 

 
The below clip is part of the ramping up for the film itself. In it, an unnamed “hobbyist” walks a Dead Bedrooms producer through a typical “happy ending” massage parlor, pausing to reflect on his own sex-for-pay experiences. Pretty much everyone takes these places for granted in L.A.—they’re everywhere—but it’s not too often we civilians get a behind-the-scenes look at one of them.
 

The ‘Dead Bedrooms’ legs logo was designed by Leah Hayes. Check out her upcoming book from Fantagraphics, ‘Not Funny Ha-Ha.’

An Indiegogo campaign for Dead Bedrooms launches today, October 9th.  You can read (and watch) more about the project here. And for some truly harrowing tales from the sexless front, check out the Dead Bedrooms subreddit.

Posted by Richard Metzger
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10.09.2015
03:45 pm
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That time Gore Vidal porked Jack Kerouac
10.09.2015
10:01 am
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Jack Kerouac, 1953
 
“What did you and Jack do?” Allen Ginsberg asked Gore Vidal one cold January night in 1994.

“Well, I fucked him,” Vidal was pleased to reply. On the night of August 23, 1953, the two men of letters had banged one out in a Chelsea Hotel room following a Greenwich Village bar crawl. Kerouac published a fictionalized account of the assignation in The Subterraneans but, aside from a morning-after moment of “horrible recognition,” he left out the sex. Vidal was annoyed, and said so:

I challenged Jack. “Why did you, the tell-it-all-like-it-is writer, tell everything about that evening with Burroughs and me and then go leave out what happened when we went to bed?”

“I forgot,” he said. The once startlingly clear blue eyes were now bloodshot.

Palimpsest, the first of Gore Vidal’s two memoirs, fills in the lacuna with a detailed record of the evening’s events. It began with William S. Burroughs. Kerouac and Vidal had met before, and in a 1952 letter to Kerouac, Burroughs expressed interest in meeting the author of The Judgment of Paris:

Is Gore Vidal queer or not? Judging from the picture of him that adorns his latest opus I would be interested to make his acquaintance. Always glad to meet a literary gent in any case, and if the man of letters is young and pretty and possibly available my interest understandably increases.

 

Gore Vidal on the back cover of The Judgment of Paris, 1952
 
The three writers met at the San Remo bar the following year, after Burroughs’ return from Mexico. Kerouac, Vidal writes, “was manic. Sea captain’s hat. T-shirt. Like Marlon Brando in Streetcar.” Burroughs asked about a Turkish bath in Rome that Vidal had described in The Judgment of Paris. They moved on to Tony Pastor’s, a lesbian bar; afterwards, Kerouac swung around a lamppost out front, “a Tarzan routine that caused Burroughs to leave us in disgust.” Vidal was ready to go back to his father’s apartment uptown, but Kerouac had a different notion:

“Let’s get a room around here.” The first law of sex is never go to bed with someone drunk. Corollary to this universal maxim was my own fetish–never to have sex with anyone older. I was twenty-eight. Jack was thirty-one. Five years earlier, when we first met, I would have overruled the difference, but I had also arbitrarily convinced myself that Conrad’s “shadow line” extended to sex: So from the age of thirty on, a man or woman was, for my purposes, already a corpse–not that I ever had much on my mind when it came to sex with men. In my anonymous encounters, I was what used to be called trade. I did nothing–deliberately, at least–to please the other. When I became too old for these attentions from the young, I paid, gladly, thus relieving myself of having to please anyone in any way. But now here I was stuck with Jack, who had certainly once attracted me at the Metropolitan when that drop of clear water slid down his cheek. Now there was real sweat. I stared at him. We were the same height and general build. With some misgiving, I crossed the shadow line.

At the nearby Chelsea Hotel, each signed his real name. Grandly, I told the bemused clerk that this register would become famous. I’ve often wondered what did happen to it. Has anyone torn out our page? Or is it still hidden away in the dusty Chelsea files? Lust to one side, we both thought, even then (this was before On the Road), that we owed it to literary history to couple.

I remember that the bathroom was near the entrance to a large double room. There was no window shade, so a red neon light flickering on and off gave a rosy glow to the room and its contents. Jack was now in a manic mood: We must take a shower together. To my surprise, he was circumcised. [...]

Where Anaïs and I were incompatible–chicken hawk meets chicken hawk–Jack and I were an even more unlikely pairing–classic trade meets classic trade, and who will do what?

 

Gore Vidal, 1948
 

“Jack was rather proud of the fact that he blew you.” Allen sounded a bit sad as we assembled our common memories over tea in the Hollywood Hills. I said that I had heard Jack had announced this momentous feat to the entire clientele of the San Remo bar, to the consternation of one of the customers, an advertising man for Westinghouse, the firm that paid for the program Studio One, where I had only just begun to make a living as a television playwright. “I don’t think,” said the nervous advertiser, “that this is such a good advertisement for you, not to mention Westinghouse.” As On the Road would not be published until 1957, he had no idea who Jack was.

Thanks to Allen’s certainty of what Jack had told him, I finally recall the blow job–a pro forma affair, which I put a quick stop to. At what might nicely be called loose ends, we rubbed bellies for a while; later he would publish a poem dedicated to me: “Didn’t know I was a great come-onner, did you? (come-on-er).” I was not particularly touched by this belated Valentine, considering that I finally flipped him over on his stomach, not an easy job as he was much heavier than I [...]

Jack raised his head from the pillow to look at me over his left shoulder; off to our left the rosy neon from the window gave the room a mildly infernal glow. He stared at me a moment–I see this part very clearly now, forehead half covered with sweaty dark curls–then he sighed as his head dropped back onto the pillow. There are other published versions of this encounter: in one, Jack says that he spent the night in the bathroom. On the floor? There was a shower but no tub. In another, he was impotent. But the potency of other males is, for me, a turnoff. What I have reported is all there was to it, except that I liked the way he smelled.

Alas, there is no sex tape, but you can watch part one of the fascinating Omnibus profile of Vidal below (part two here).
 

 

 

Posted by Oliver Hall
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10.09.2015
10:01 am
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‘Love Letters From Craig’ serves up ‘casual encounters’ as read by a robot
10.07.2015
12:57 pm
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Love Letters From Craig” is the delicious brainchild of an Amsterdam-based company called Cartelle that appropriates and recontextualizes posts from the “casual encounters” section of Craigslist, certainly one of the steamiest (and frequently, most X-rated) sections of the well-known free personals website.

Those Craigslist posts basically consist of people spelling out the exact kinky thing they’re looking to do with a stranger, using a curiously encoded manner of communication—most messages feature at least 1 or 2 acronyms whose meanings aren’t immediately obvious. On “Love Letters From Craig” those messages are read aloud by a robotic voice of the type you might hear emanating from your GPS, while images of items signifying sex and/or oral stimulation (disembodied boobs, a lipstick, a glazed donut, a lollipop, cherries, bananas, pills, etc.) blandly float by. The formal register lends even such attention-getting phrases as “love making out, mutual oral, rimming, toys, spanking, w/s, shower play” an odd kind of dignity.

Cartelle is calling this strange exercise in voyeurism “a romantic exploration into the perversions of modern-day digital hookups.” According to Cartelle, “The contents are not moderated and completely automated, only enhanced by sensual porno beats and tasty, sexy visuals.” “Love Letters From Craig” scrapes new content from the Craigslist servers on an hourly basis.

I don’t know what it all means, but I find watching it strangely mesmerizing.
 

 
via Kill Screen
 

Posted by Martin Schneider
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10.07.2015
12:57 pm
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Website offers Kim Davis $500k to do interracial lesbian porn scene
10.06.2015
01:10 pm
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Oh, Kim Davis, what is it about the simple stand you made about gay marriage that makes you such irresistible fodder for mockery? Was it the four separate times you said “I do” at the altar or your homespun manners, hairdo, and style of dress? Whatevs, you’ve become a quintessential 2015 meme and people are going to run it into the ground, dadgummit.

Example: The Dogfart Network, the self-described “undisputed kings of interracial porn,” has offered Kim Davis half a million dollars to secure “a redemption” by appearing in one of their movies, at the website ZebraGirls.com.

Here’s the press release:
 

With all the controversy surrounding Rowan County, Kentucky clerk Kim Davis’ refusal to issue same sex marriage licenses even after the Supreme Court of the United States made same sex marriage the law of the land, The Dogfart Network which is the leading online destination for Adult Interracial content is offering the Holy Kim Davis a chance at redemption.

The undisputed kings of interracial porn are dangling $500k to star in a scene for their site ZebraGirls.com, which is one of 23 sites in the companies vast Adult Entertainment Empire. ZebraGirls.com specializes in Lesbian Interracial Erotica.

“We here at Dogfart have always believed in equality. We have interracial sites, gay sites, straight sites, and we think Kim Davis has been appalling,” said a Dogfart Spokesman. “We are giving her a chance at a redemption. We are willing to drop half a million bucks for Kim to come out to our studio and shoot an Interracial Lesbian scene for our network.”

The offer will stand for the next week. She is also welcome to bring her family with her on an all expense paid vacation.

 
Those of you who are inexplicably interested in the overlap of Kim Davis and lesbian sex are probably already aware of the “erotic story” ebook that depicted her first foray into steamy jailhouse sex, but just in case you aren’t, here it is. (Description: “Kim is a simple, small-town woman who finds herself thrown in jail in a dispute over religion and sexuality. She quickly discovers the importance of knowing friend from foe in the notoriously horny women’s wing and, with the help of her beautiful cellmate, sets out to learn the ropes.” Oh my!)
 
via Death and Taxes
 

Posted by Martin Schneider
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10.06.2015
01:10 pm
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This ‘Batman’ dildo is totally into you
10.05.2015
09:32 am
Topics:
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Batman gets a load of his likeness on a ceramic dildo
 
Not much on the Internet makes me say the words “holy shit” anymore. But no other words really came to mind after I saw this big-ten-inch (10.2 inches to be exact) ceramic dildo, with the face of comic book, television, and film hero Batman, on the grip.
 

“Batman” ceramic dildo
 

 
An Etser located in Poland that operates under the moniker Small Town Planet, has been making these strange “toys” since 2014, and there are several versions of this caped crusader sex toy for sale in Small Town’s store. In addition to “Batman”, there are also a few other bizarre dildos including one of an entirely too content-looking Satan sticking his tongue out (his ears have been replaced with two penises for reasons I can’t explain) and several that have been molded onto a ceramic revolvers (the revolver part being the grip) because, well, I don’t know why.
 
White ceramic
White ceramic “Batman” dildo is having none of this
  
Red ceramic
Red ceramic “Batman” dildo
 
White ceramic
 

Posted by Cherrybomb
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10.05.2015
09:32 am
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