Imagine world in which one of the most idiotic fantasies of ignorant right wing homophobe creeps were true, and homosexuality was not only a choice one could make, but that young people were actively recruited into gayness by a sinister cabal of persuasive pipefitters. Now imagine a world where your recruiter—your tour guide through the forbidden delights of Sodom!—wasn’t a fit, handsome, and just dead charming older student at the campus mixer with a fabulous smile, flawless hair, and an impish gleam in his eyes, but a diner.

Not as in someone who’s dining, I mean a diner as in an actual restaurant.
 

Turned Gay By The Living Alpha Diner
 

Lars is simply looking for a place to grab a bite and take a load off. But he bites of more than he can chew when he meets Turk, a handsome, living diner. The loads come later!

Lars and Turk take to one another immediately, and soon Lars finds himself putting it all on the line for an erotic future with this gorgeous, gay restaurant.

That’s pretty much how it goes in the world of writer Chuck Tingle, who trades in homoerotic eBooks that he calls “Tinglers.” I haven’t actually read any of them, as it’s not my zone, and anyway I don’t have a Kindle, so I’m unabashedly judging books by their covers here. But MY GOD, WHAT GLORIOUS COVERS! Tingle, or his go-to cover artist, definitely has the template nailed—while it’s of a type with lots of self-published eBook art, it absolutely has a certain something all its own. There’s always a come-hither beefcake image right up front, behind which, in brightly saturated colors, is an almost Pen & Pixel-ishly improbable collage depicting said beefcake’s mate. And it has to be a collage, as said mate is never simply another human guy. The not-of-this-world cover art is a match for the curious quirks in Tingle’s oeuvre. It seems to break down into four distinct and imaginative motifs. To start, there are his protagonist-pairs-off-with-an-anthropomorphic-object tales.
 

I’m Gay For My Living Billionaire Jet Plane
 

Trained By The Living Biker Train
 

HEAVY META! Pounded In The Butt By My Own Butt

More, more, more after the jump…

 
The story would be dull—clichéd even—without the voyeuristic thrill that comes with the intimate details: a married German businessman and his married secretary, Margret, have a brief affair from 1969 to 1970. Everything you see here came from a suitcase purchased at an estate auction 30 years after the affair, and it’s an utterly engrossing collection of artifacts.

Not only did the unnamed businessman photograph the intimate moments before and after sex (including shots of dresses he bought for her—on the hanger, then on her, then on the bed), he kept keepsakes, including a lock of hair and an empty birth control blister-pack. The strangest part though is his “journal,” a series of typed, dated, wholly factual and completely emotionless entries—more of an impassive record of events than a log of romantic musings. Germans!

On their own, the photos seem to hint at a tender, maybe even loving time together, but the details reveal a much darker, volatile side of the tryst. At one point, the man’s wife confronts Margret, accusing her of disrupting a happy marriage. Margret is furious, and so the businessman then forces his wife to apologize to her. As delusional as she appears to be, it is this unseen wife who feels the most human, and one wonders if any guilt was felt on the part of the businessman or mistress Margret.

The collection is now being curated in its entirety as Gallery Margret: Chronicle of an Affair – May 1969 to December 1970, at the White Columns gallery in New York’s Meatpacking District, through April 18th.
 

 

 

 
More intriguing intimacies after the jump…

 
Forget the romance about damsels in distress and knights in shining armor—having sex in Medieval times (that’s the 5th to the 15th century according to the Encyclopaedia Britannica) was definitely a no-no. Well, according to ye olde religious edicts that is.

For example: if it was Sunday, Wednesday, Friday or Saturday then it was a sin to have sex. If it was daylight or you were naked—you weren’t allowed to have sex either. If the wife was menstruating, pregnant or nursing a child—yep, sex was definitely out. As it was during Lent, Advent, Whitsun week, Easter, feast days and fast days. In fact, having sex was only allowed according to the penitentials if you wanted a child and then you could only do it so long as there was no fondling, no lewd kisses, no oral, no strange positions, and even then you could only do it once and you had better not enjoy it.
 

‘I’m not enjoying this, darling.’ ‘Me neither.’
 
As you can imagine, back in these feudal times finding a place to make out was difficult—accommodation was cramped, often cold and damp and lacked privacy. Out in the fields, or in a hay loft was more suitable, as was inside a church, which as Ruth Mazo Karras notes was:

...safe, dry, and deserted for much of the day, might have been the equivalent of the back seat of a car.

 

 
Because of religious belief abstinence had to be observed during the 46 to 62 days of Lent, the four weeks of Advent, and the 40 to 60 days around the Feast of the Pentecost. To help people people find suitable times to have intercourse Penitentials—“books which gave the rules of sex and the penance for breaking them”—were devised by the church. One such book was the Anglo-Saxon Canons of Theodore written around 700AD that included regulations on drunkenness, fornication, theft, perjury, heresy and being twice baptized—o, the horror! Under fornication in chapter two, it contains the following punishments for deviation from the proscribed sex acts:

Whoever fornicates with an effeminate male or with another man or with an animal must fast for 10 years. Elsewhere it says that whoever fornicates with an animal must fast 15 years and sodomites must fast for 7 years….

There was similar rules for pleasuring oneself:

If he defiles himself, he is to abstain from meat for four days. He who desires to fornicate (with) himself and is not able to do so, he must fast for 40 days or 20 days. If he is a boy and does it often, either he is to fast 20 days or one is to whip him….

Women were also threatened with dreadful punishments should they give into the temptation of pleasuring themselves with a homemade, edible or mechanical instrument:

Have you done what certain women are accustomed to do, that is to make some sort of device or implement in the shape of the male member of a size to match your sinful desire? If you have done this, you shall do penance for five years on legitimate holy days.

But there was worse….

Whoever ejaculates seed into the mouth, that is the worst evil. From someone it was judged that they repent this up to the end of their lives.

 

‘Arms above the bedsheets, please.’
 
It wasn’t just the church who were quick to denounce people doing what comes naturally. Royals, nobles and landowners used their power to influence young lovers. King Phillip IV of France (1268-1314) was known as “Phillip the Fair”—I think we’ll have to think of him fair of skin rather than fair or just. When he discovered some of his favorite knights were having “relations” with his three daughters-in-law arrested on charges of adultery in 1314. He had the men arrested and disemboweled. His daughters-in-law were sent off to a nunnery for their sins.

Interestingly, prostitution thrived during the Middle Ages and was generally ignored by the Church, or at worst considered a necessary evil, as scholar and saint, Thomas Aquinas (1225-1274) thought:

If prostitution were to be suppressed, careless lusts would overthrow society.

Most towns had a brothel. Prostitutes were recognizable by their dress—a veil and a garment with a bold yellow stripe. Regular customers probably came from the wealthier classes.

This handy little diagram explains the ins and outs (ahem) of what was or was not acceptable—and explains why if you were young, horny and fancied some slap and tickle then you were well and truly screwed.
 

 
Via The Medievalists and Oddee.
 

 
This is like the Idiocracy BDSM version of ball gags except these probably don’t have electrolytes in ‘em. ‘Murica, meet the “Silencing Slider” cheeseburger ball gag.

 
Honestly, I can’t think of anything sexier than this. No Thing.

Each “Silencing Slider” is handcrafted in the USA and are made of “soft and non-toxic natural food grade silicone rubber, the gag has no unpleasant plastic smells or odors!”

They’re available for $69 (get it?) at Burger Gag.

 
via Geekologie.

 
Never forget that “Tutti Frutti”—the song grandma danced to, the song you sang at the church picnic, the song that lent its name to a popular chain of frozen yogurt stands—began as a bawdy celebration of butt sex. Little Richard recorded bowdlerized lyrics for his 1955 hit single, and the popularity of the throwaway tune, whose main appeal seemed to reside in the original version’s goofy lyrics about lust and lube, took its author by surprise:

I’d been singing “Tutti Frutti” for years, but it never struck me as a song you’d record. I didn’t go to New Orleans to record no “Tutti Frutti.” Sure, it used to crack the crowds up when I sang it in the clubs, with those risqué lyrics: Tutti Frutti, good booty/If it don’t fit, don’t force it/You can grease it, make it easy…

But I never thought it would be a hit, even with the lyrics cleaned up.

Well, I was at home in Macon when I heard them play it on Randy’s Record Mart, Radio WLAC out of Nashville, Tennessee. The disk jockey Gene Nobles said, “This is the hottest record in the country. This guy Little Richard is taking the record market by storm.” I couldn’t believe it. My old song a hit!

Friends, imagine the kind of world we’d be living in today if Pat Boone had gotten his hands on the original version of “Tutti Frutti.”

The original dirty lyrics, or at least what can be recalled of them, after the jump…

 
While she probably remains best known as “Trash,” the naked grave-dancer turned naked punkette zombie in Return of the Living Dead, Linnea Quigley has carved out a long, noteworthy, and still active career in cheap horror films and videos. IMDB lists 135 acting credits, plus over 40 “as herself” appearances. One of the latter was the preposterous 1990 Linnea Quigley’s Horror Workout, an insane piece of work which simultaneously parodied z-grade slasher flicks and those “workout” videos of the period that were really just blatant cheesecake (remember “20 Minute Workout”?), at the same time as actually BEING a z-grade slasher flick and a workout-as-cheesecake video. I’ll let the IMDB plot summary do the talking for a moment:

After a nice shower, Linnea does some warm-up stretches and then goes for a run. She encounters some flabby zombies who follow her back to the house, where she leads them in some poolside aerobic routines. Later she unwinds by inviting some girlfriends over for a slumber party and some exercise. When something goes bump in the house, her friends begin experiencing an attrition problem.

 
More after the jump… if you dare!

 
Two things that almost any amount of media consumption should teach even the most obtuse viewer: (1) Most everyone on TV and in movies is crazy attractive, and (2) Men get the lion’s share of the good parts. Combine those with a soupçon of ageism and you have instantly created a toxic environment in which only sexy, young women are likely to be cast in any given role.

If TV shows and movies are going to end up that way, some or most of those tendencies have to be made explicit during the creation of the product, and casting is one of the primary places that happens. In our world you can’t just say out loud that a woman’s bra measurement matters more than her acting ability, .... but sometimes casting agents do it anyway!

A new Tumblr called Casting Call Woe has smartly decided to shine a spotlight on this odious side of the entertainment industry. Sometimes the sentences are amusing, like the way they try to put a positive spin on “We’re looking for a hot bimbo to play this professor,” but a couple of them are super creepy.
 

 

 

 
More of these groanworthy examples from real casting websites after the jump…

 
I’ve blogged before about the French music producer known only as Drixxxe who makes these pretty spectacular mixes of songs from ‘70s softcore porn-y films. Since the last time I wrote about Drixxxe, he’s added two more mixes to the “Sextape” theme. They’re both amazing.

A lot of these don’t have tracklists, but some of songs come from films like Sessomatto, Black Lolita, Aunt Peg, Madame Claude, Emanuelle and the Girls of Madame Claude, Vampyros Lesbos, Sex O’Clock USA, Skin Flicks, Odyssey, Le Sex Shop and Emanuelle and the Last Cannibals and many, many more.

Here they are for your listening pleasure. Enjoy!

Below, Sextape 1:

 
The rest after the jump…
 

 
During the Qing Dynasty (the final imperial Dynasty of China, 1644 to 1912), smoking tobacco was illegal, but the use of snuff was permitted for medicinal purposes. As the habit became pervasive throughout the country and across every class, beautiful little snuff bottles were produced, made from materials like jade, bone, ceramic, glass and ivory. Many of the bottles depicted pastoral scenes or images of nature. Others—like the ones pictured here—were hardcore and would make pervy potter Grayson Perry blush!

If you’re in the market for a tiny antique porn collection from China—or you just want to do bumps from a smutty little snuff bottle—you can find them for around $50 on eBay or Etsy (much cheaper if they’re missing the stopper-spoon). If you’re really looking to drop some serious dough, Sotheby’s and other high-end auctions sell Qing snuff bottles that will run you thousands of dollars. It can be difficult to tell a reproduction from a legitimate Qing, but a little research will help you find the real thing (and for a reasonable price). For instance, many knockoffs are made of light-weight resin, and real Qings are often dated on the base.

There’s something so charming about these itsy-bitsy explicit tableaux—how could you resist?
 

 

 

 
More smutty snuff bottles of imperial China after the jump…

 
Eileen Yaghoobian, the director of the acclaimed rock poster documentary Died Young Stayed Pretty, has embarked on a project to adapt couples’ sext messages, for a fee, into scripts for short films. She’s established the website sendmeyoursexts.com to reach out to potential “screenwriters” and show off the results.

I’m Eileen, a filmmaker and artist who’s convinced that your dirty messages should be my next script. So I decided to create a service that turns your real sexts into on screen action. Think your phone could inspire a good web series? Ever wanted to be a screenwriter? You already are… but only if you’re brave enough to send me your sexts. It can be anonymous, but it still takes some moxie.

How it works

1. Screen shot some of your sexts. Scroll way back and send me the steamiest, silliest or most shocking ones you can.
2. Upload them here and check out using the form. Just $80 will get you up to 6 minutes of video shot professionally with cast.
3. Watch them come to life. You’ll get an e-mail with a link to the video when it’s ready.

Only $80? That seems a low fee—I can’t imagine that’s even enough to pay the actors.
 

 

 
The videos are audacious and often hilarious. They don’t contain any graphic sex, or even any nudity—how creative would that be anyway?—but some of them are really right on the edge, so I hope I shouldn’t even have to tell you they’re still far from work-safe due to suggestive situations and frank language (and some dry-humping). As Yaghoobian herself said in a recent Vice interview:

Everything is porn now. I don’t think there are enough websites out there that are sexy but not necessarily porn. But then again, I don’t have a problem with someone getting turned on when watching this. And even better, cause [the actors] aren’t naked! There isn’t a close-up macro-dick, or balls or ass or whatever. For me, what turns me on is great sex. For example, in Don’t Look Now, which is one of my favourite films, the sex scene is incredible! Better than any porn movie you’ll ever see. It’s so inspiring. I got the actors to look at that scene over and over again for Dylan and Kacey because it’s the best sex scene ever. And I want to get there.

 
More sexts brought to life after the jump…