Miniature dollhouse bondage chair with handcuffs

Super goth and miniature artist Jenny Nightfall is a UK based dollhouse furniture maker with a penchant for evil little things that definitely don’t belong in your daughter’s—or son’s, I don’t judge and neither should you—dollhouse.
 

Miniature customised mannequin dressed in a black latex skirt and choker

Of particular interest in Nightfall’s large collection of unusual items is her line of BDSM-themed dollhouse furniture. Made by hand using all kinds of materials including leather and latex, Nightfall’s kinky furniture is made at a 1/12 scale. And she DID NOT skimp on the details. For instance, her miniature bondage/fetish cabinet includes an assortment of tiny implements you would expect to find in any well stocked BDSM environment like leather paddles, whips, naughty books, handcuffs, a spreader bar, rope, candles, plugs, bondage hooks, a mask, a ball gag, erotic playing cards, spiked stiletto heels and much more.

Nightfall also has an extensive line of horror/goth/steampunk dollhouse furniture if that’s more your thing (and who knew this was a thing until now?). The BDSM pieces by Nightfall, which seem collectable on their own even if you don’t have a dollhouse, run from about $15 - $160 each.
 

Miniature dollhouse BDSM cabinet and accessories
 

The contents of the drawers in the miniature BDSM cabinet
 

Miniature dollhouse BDSM cage with pink leather cushioning and working door
 
Continues after the jump…

 
When I first saw this video, I was sure that it was shot in London—in 1966 that’s where the crazy fashion energy was, after all. But no, it wasn’t London at all, it was actually New York. I reckon that Matthew Weiner now wants to re-do Season 5 of Mad Men in its entirety just to find a way to work in these incredible bridal fashions. After all, that’s about when Don marries Megan, right? Such a wasted opportunity!!

A terrific find from Kelly Faircloth at Jezebel. The AP Archive headline for this clip is “Futuristic and outlandish fashions for brides from 1966,” but you really can’t beat Jezebel’s triumphant invocation of “SPACE BRIDES”!

These designs came from Edythe Vincent at Alfred Angelo—Vincent was actually Angelo’s wife, appropriately enough. I’m not 100% sure but I believe that the promotional text for this presentation ran,
 

Bridal gown for weddings in outer space! Styled by for Alfred Angelo’s “Bridal Fashions in the Year 2000” collection. Mod mini skirt of open air knit crochet stitch and vinyl plastic, with boots to match. The sky diver’s helmet lends an authentic feeling of jet propulsion for the forward look of the 21st century

 
Faircloth recommends scoring this wholly soundless bit of fashion footage (more than 8 minutes long!) with David Bowie’s “Space Oddity.” Nailed it…...
 

 
via Pictorial
 

 
Recently, the “newsish” website Gawker ran a nasty little expose on the CFO of a major media company, who had allegedly attempted to purchase sex from a porn star. Many readers were livid, citing an invasion of privacy, or even perhaps a whiff of homophobia in the story (the CFO and the porn star were both men). Gawker argued that their mission has always been to dig up dirt on the rich and powerful, and though there was some debate on whether or not the subject of their story was rich and powerful enough to constitute such focus, they argued the story constituted public interest before eventually retracting it with apology.

The scandal sparked a debate, with Jeet Heer over at The New Republic arguing that such nasty tactics aren’t productive praxis for class war:

The Condé Nast executive is seen as a legitimate subject for attack because of his wealth and class privilege. What the adherents to Gawkerism rarely consider is whether tabloid gossip is really the best tool for fighting a class war.

Unfortunately, Heer completely overlooks the fact that historically, gossip, libel and denigration have been an integral aspect of class war, and the tabloids have usually been the medium of dissemination. Just ask Maria Antoinette, for whom the libelle—a smutty little tabloid in the form of a political pamphlet—proved an incredibly effective piece of political propaganda. These were not sophisticated political tracts—they often simply depicted Antoinette in pornographic situations—orgies, incest, lesbianism—everything you could imagine. Sometimes the purpose of these cartoons was to actually accuse Antoinette of such acts, but often they were simply a form of degradation.

The cartoon above features Antoinette with the Marquis de Lafayette, a politician and general who fought alongside against England during the American Revolution. Considered a military hero, he was appointed to the National Assembly by the King, and though he remained a royalist, he sympathized with Revolutionary values and attempted to institute them politically. As a result, he was distrusted by both the revolutionaries and the monarchy. There is no evidence that he had an affair with Antoinette; the cartoon is actually intended to illustrate Lafayette’s allegiance to the crown. His “steed” is a pun, as the French word for “Austrian” is very similar to “ostrich,” and Antoinette was often referred to as “Austrichienne,” or “Austrian Bitch.”.

You may find the tabloids gauche, you may find their targets undeserving, you may even argue that we live in a more civilized time—a time when tabloids should be retired in favor of more dignified debate and politics; but if you’re wondering whether or not tabloids are effective in class war, I’d remind you that the road to the guillotine has always been paved with smut.
 

Marie was often depicted in lesbian trysts, generally assumed to be Yolande de Poligna or Princesse de Lamballe. The text reads, “I now breathe only for you, a kiss my beautiful angel.”
 

In a subtler comic, Marie stepping from Versailles to safety, bearing the King and Prince on her back, giving the French people a view up her dress in the process.
 
More 18th century political smut after the jump…

 
“They don’t write ‘em like they did in the old days”—certainly a true statement, but in some cases that may really be for the best.

Here’s a top-ten countdown of songs with sketchy lyrics or themes related to (Hebephiliac to Ephebophiliac) relations with minors that probably wouldn’t make the cut for acceptability in 2015. Through the backward lens of modern social and moral definitions of appropriateness, these ten tracks err on the side of “not.”

Some of these songs are merely cringeworthy in hindsight. Some are downright scary. Yet each of these songs was either a hit single or a fan favorite on a hit album. In today’s social climate it would be career suicide for a mainstream artist attempting to release a song with lyrics like the ones on this list.
 

 
10. Aerosmith “Walk This Way”

This song of young lust does specify that the narrator is a “high school loser,” but “Walk This Way” makes the ten spot for what is certainly one of the sleaziest lines ever uttered in a (really popular hit) rock song: “I met a cheerleader, was a real young bleeder, oh the times I could reminisce.” Gross, dude. What was she? Twelve?
 
More pedo-pop ‘standards,’ after the jump…

 
Before KISS became a kid-friendly marketing machine with their own line of dolls and comic books aimed at the eight-to-sixteen demographic, the group maintained a darker, edgier, and more decidedly adult image. KISS, after all, came from the same sleazy New York scene as the Dolls and were demonstrably more musically aggro than most of their early ‘70s contemporaries—and let’s not forget the lyrical themes of alcohol abuse, prostitution, pedophilia, and anal sex. 

It was during these early years that KISS recorded their second album, Hotter Than Hell. Though it contains some of KISS’ best songs, the record suffered from notoriously muddy production. The cover artwork, while striking with its Japanese-inspired visuals, also suffers from a degree of print-muddiness in the photo images of the group. What ended up on the album sleeve barely hints at the debaucherous photo session that spawned those images. Some sources have described this shoot as having devolved into a full-on “orgy,” although Peter Criss’ ex-wife, Lydia, has played down those allegations.
 

 
Kiss Fan Site has reprinted some outtakes of the Hotter Then Hell photo session, along with quotes from the band members describing the wild shoot. One wonders how history would look back on KISS if they had kept with the Bacchanalian “sex and drugs and rock and roll” image implied in this shoot. Photographer Norman Seeff emerges as the character responsible for much of the insanity. Apparently everyone was wasted, except for life-long tea-totaller, Gene Simmons.

This is definitely not the kid stuff we saw a few years later with Marvel Comics and Hanna-Barbera TV movie productions. The mise-en-scène of furs and rugs and glitter and skulls and ropes and Coors cans with drunkenly splayed, mugging, groupie-groping band members is, if nothing else, a beautiful rock and roll mess.
 

 

Gene Simmons: We did a photo session with Norman Seeff in Los Angeles. Norman was a very bright but strange guy who believed that photo sessions should be this other thing. So he would create a climate and bring down everybody and anybody. Girls who would blow you, anything that would happen just to get a sense of something.

Peter Criss: It was a wild photo session for the back cover. I was sitting in the armchair there with this broad giving me head with this mask on. It was really fucking wild. Paul was in bed with a bunch of broads and me in a robe over this big knight’s table’s chair. The photographer [Seeff] got us all drunk. That was the idea. He got us all loaded. Everyone was drunk except Gene but Gene had to be drunk on the whole room being drunk. Even the models and the people in the room were drunk. No one was sober but Gene but he had to be intoxicated from just the intoxication of the whole vibe.

Paul Stanley: I don’t know if anybody can make out the back cover of the album but we were having this wild, wild party with tons of people in weird outfits. Ten minutes after that picture was taken I passed out. I cut my hand, I don’t know how I did it. It was pretty strange. I was so drunk that they locked me in a car and I couldn’t find my way out. Like any of the Fellini films, Satyricon, it was bizarre but it was really great too. It was a party unlike most others that I’ve been to. A lot of the pictures taken for the back cover have never seen the light of day because some people didn’t want to be incriminated by the pictures. Someone would go, “Oh, I can’t let so-and-so see me at that party.”

Norman Seeff: The Hotter Than Hell photo shoot was done at the Raleigh stages in Hollywood. The front and back cover were shot on the same day. I had just come back from Japan and met one of the great Japanese artists, Tadanori Yokoo. He was a combination of Timothy Leary, Andy Warhol, and Picasso. I think the way KISS were dressed and who they were suggested to me that Yokoo’s work would be an ideal direction for them. As we went further, I thought “Why not put the title in Japanese as well?” I called in a brilliant designer, John Van Hamersveld, to do the design. The album’s title dictated the party shot, the Satyricon fantasy concept for the back cover. My whole approach is forging a creative partnership with people, it’s very free-form. I made it clear that this is a stage for creative improvisation. KISS were doing a rock ‘n’ roll ballet for the shoot where each of the individuals were playing a part. It was incredibly exciting, they worked so well off of each other. They came in and they delivered.

Gene Simmons: That session was one of the few times that I’ve seen Paul drunk. He was blitzed. The only thing that was missing was Rod Serling going [imitates Serling’s voice] “Witness Paul Stanley entering the Twilight Zone.” There was a photo of him with a girl who had nothing on, sort of painted like Goldfinger with silver stuff. I don’t even think Paul was aware that there were forces of gravity. So he reached over and in one shot you sort of see him nuzzling with this chickie and the next second he’s over the bed. He’d fallen over. At the end of the photo session I had to carry him to the car and lock him in the back seat.

Ace Frehley: For one photo session we did for the Hotter Than Hell album, this doctor told me I could only put makeup on half of my face. So all the shots were profiles [laughs]. I got into a car accident. Something pissed me off. I got drunk one night and I kept driving around the Hollywood Hills. I kept going around the same block faster and faster [laughs] until I lost control and hit a telephone pole. I think I was just testing destiny. I got out of the car and I had cut my head. I walked back down to the hotel and I knocked on my road manager’s door and there’s blood running all down my face. He said, “Oh God, what happened to you?” I go, “I wrecked a car.” One of many [laughs], it was like the beginning of the saga.

 
More photos after the jump…

Behold the solid silver anus!

The “WTF” section of unusual UK online gift shop Firebox, contains many strange things. Like a $46,000 floating hot tub (called the “Hot Tug”), and the most expensive vacuum cleaner in the world that retails for over $1.2 million dollars. These items pale in comparison to the “WTF” that is Firebox’s solid silver anus.

Billed as the “perfect gift for your tightest squeeze,” only 100 of these luxurious impressions were made. Crafted from 55 grams of silver and then bleached (because that was your next question, right?), Firebox credits the long, difficult casting process (that an actual human went through) that produced the seamless appearance of their silver anus.

It may also be important to note that it’s unclear if the silver anus, cast from the muscle that controls the exit door in your ass (or entrance, I don’t judge), belonged to a man or woman. While I’m no anatomy expert, it appears that it is likely the impression was obtained from a woman. So take that into account, as well as the $774.29 asking price if you’re thinking of picking one up. At the very least, Firebox certainly lives up to their motto that states the things that they sell are in fact, “Not for Everyone.”
 

 

 
In what experts on the scene have been calling “the best Twitter fodder imaginable” (quotation totally fabricated), dozens and dozens of large white and orange dildos have recently been spotted dangling from power lines all over Portland, Oregon. The sex toys have elicited no small amount of laughter, photos, and tweets.

The masturbation aids appear to have been strung together in pairs; unsurprisingly, according to department spokeswoman Lisa Leddy, they have prompted numerous reports to the Portland Office of Neighborhood Involvement.
 

#Sex Toys Appear on Portland Street Power Lines http://t.co/TusMvDfdZw #NewsTicker #Toy pic.twitter.com/6m916fOCFK

— kolkata24x7 (@kolkata24x7) July 14, 2015

 
In a conversation I wish I had been present to witness, a spokesman for public utility Portland General Electric said that he did not believe that the rubber products posed a fire hazard.

Some parents have been heard to express puzzlement as to what they’re supposed to tell their children when they point to the colorful toys hanging off the power lines.

 
Portland resident Lucila Cejas Epple first encountered the dildos at a street fair over the weekend: “You could spot them in several intersections and you could see all sorts of reactions to them. Some would blush, others would laugh, and most would take photos.”

 
It’s seldom that you’ll hear me saying a good word about Sheriff Joe Arpaio, the rightwing lawman from Arizona’s Maricopa County who’s known for taking racial profiling to outrageous heights and for being one of the foremost diehard “birther” idiots. BUT in this case, I have to hand it to the Sheriff: When I heard about the sad, sordid and sick tale of the hapless would-be horse-fucker Michael Crawford, arrested by Arpaio’s men in an undercover sting operation last Friday, my first thought was “I’m glad they got this sick fuck.”

And then my second thought was realizing that there was VIDEO FOOTAGE of Crawford’s sting. As the kids say: OMG. I mean… It’s the REALEST thing you’ve ever seen (Today at least).Totally revolting. To Catch a Predator on steroids.

Via USA Today:

Michael Crawford, 68, landed in Phoenix believing he would meet with a horse owner he’d been corresponding with online, according to a statement released by the Maricopa County Sheriff’s Office. Crawford hoped the fictitious owner would allow Crawford to engage in “perverted” sex acts with an animal, Sheriff Joe Arpaio said at a press conference Sunday.

Crawford posted an ad on a popular website soliciting a willing horse owner, according to the Sheriff’s Office. Investigators in the Animal Crimes Investigations Unit opened the case in October and corresponded with Crawford via e-mail and phone-call conversations.

“If you can really help with what I am seeking, I am definitely interested in traveling out to meet you,” Crawford told the detectives. He admitted that he had traveled the country since the 1970s to find horse owners willing to let him have sex with their steeds.

On Friday, Crawford was met by undercover deputies at the Phoenix airport and taken to a “meeting” with the horses in Tolleson, Arizona. It was all videotaped.

You will never get you innocence back after you watch this 68-year-old perv gleefully licking his lips over which horse he thinks he’s going to fuck.

How is that even enticing? HOW? If you’re a horse-fucker, does it matter if it’s a boy or a girl? So many questions.
 

 
Artist Fernando Sosa—a Florida-based Mexican immigrant who came to the United States at the age of 11—has designed a delightful Donald Trump bum-hole plug.

I usually make Butt plugs to insult dictators, homophobes and politicians. However, when i heard [von Clownstick’s] remarks about Mexicans and latinos from south america i was extremely angry. You see I was born and raised in Mexico and moved to United States when i was 11 years old. So i don’t approve of what [F$27.99, Ted Cruz and the republican party have to say about us hard working americans.

When [Fuckface von Clownstick] decided to announce he is running for president he decided to use Latinos as a scapegoat and blame us for everything that is ailing America. Many republican politicians have done this before but never a politician running for president.

If you recall, Sosa was responsible for the Vladimir Putin plug last year. If you really got to own a Trump AKA “Fuckface von Clownstick” plug, they’re being sold on Shapeways for $27.99 plus shipping. It’s a steal!

 
via Death and Taxes

 
Last week, Google released its psychedelic DeepDream program to mass public fascination and acclaim. Using computer systems called “neural networks” that are modeled on the human brain, researchers created code that allows the primordial artificial intelligence of these cybernetic networks to transform photographs into psychedelic dreamscapes. Here’s how the image recognition and alteration works:

We train an artificial neural network by showing it millions of training examples and gradually adjusting the network parameters until it gives the classifications we want. The network typically consists of 10-30 stacked layers of artificial neurons. Each image is fed into the input layer, which then talks to the next layer, until eventually the “output” layer is reached. The network’s “answer” comes from this final output layer.

Ok, I don’t understand any of that, but the point is, there is now open-source software you can use to turn your photos into surreal android dreams. Naturally, people immediately fed this exotic algorithm porn, and while the results are not sexy, they are pretty captivating.

Technically all the naughty bits in these examples are obscured by horrifying animal heads and delirium-inducing swirls and whatnot, but I’m not going so far as to say this fever dream is “safe for work.” Psychedelic nightmare porn is still porn. I think.

My favorite is the one below—can you spot the pygmy hippo? (No, I mean a literal pygmy hippo, you perv.)
 

 

 
More after the jump…