An anonymous reader requested that I talk a little bit about penis size. Namely, how very sad it is that porn seems to have made average guys feel inadequate, and how very unimportant size is anyway.
Your wish is my command.
PENIS SIZE IS NOT IMPORTANT.
Women have had this experience for a long time. It seems to be catching up with men lately in other areas, but especially in the penis department. The entertainment industry, in this case the porn industry, makes its trade by displaying unnaturally perfect examples of unattainable physical beauty in order to evoke an emotional response on the part of the consumer. In the battering-ram sensibilities of porn, bigger is better. So a nine inch penis is better than a seven inch penis, itself already two inches above average size.
And gentlemen, when I say that five inches is average size, I mean that, in the average of three penis size studies puts 5.75 inches at exactly the 50th percentile. Smack in the middle. Half of all dicks are smaller than 5.75 inches.
As you can see from the chart, if your dick is seven inches, you are in the 93rd percentile. 93% of dicks are smaller than yours.
But, none of this matters. Your dick could be three inches long, with only .04% of dicks being smaller, or you could -gasp- have no dick whatsoever, which happens to be the reality for many transgender men, and it wouldn’t matter at all.
NEWSFLASH: Dudes without dicks are just as valid as dudes with two dicks. Dudes with seven inch dicks are just as valid as dudes with three inch dicks.
Your dick really is the least important part of you.
Your dick has no baring whatsoever on your ability to please a sexual partner.
If you feel like 2-4 inches of penis is what’s standing between you and a fulfilling life, you need to reevaluate your priorities. Hell, of you feel like 2-4 inches of penis is what’s standing between you and a pleasant morning, you need to reevaluate your priorities. Whichever end of that penis you see yourself on.
There is more to sex than penetration, there’s more to penetration than penetration with your penis.
Figure out what is possible, figure out what you care about, and go with that. If you want to have pleasurable sex with someone you care about, penis has nothing to do with that. If you want to have bad sex with multitudes of strangers, if you want to have self-confidence and take pride in your body, if you want to win friends and influence people, penis has nothing to do with any of these things.
Put porn and other media where it belongs: in entertainment. The guys in porn have clown-shoe penises because that’s the unrealistic standard that they’re promoting. Same with the tits, and the plots, and all of that shit. Real people, real sex, has nothing whatsoever to do with it.
Getting ready for Halloween on the Ghost tour. I already had some people show up in costume last week, so I feel compelled to have something ready for today.
It’s not perfect, but the tour happens in the dark anyway.
Thanks to NetGalley and Riptide Publishing for the review copy.
Riptide does it again. There’s no wrong way to go with these guys, is there?
Anybody who doesn’t have a stomach for violence, or for alternate universes where basic human rights are not only not a thing, they’re kind of a new idea altogether, should not read this book. There are horrific beatings, and violent rape, although they’re not told in such a way as to be arousing, unlike some other books I’ve reviewed with varying degrees of approval.
Anchored is one of two books set in a universe where slavery, specifically Western slavery, where slaves have no rights, was never made illegal. It is an extremely dark look at the notion of privilege, ownership, and power, and how those things can influence relationships. A psychologist would have a field day with these characters.
Daniel is a successful news anchor and lifelong slave, owned by the corporation who produces his show. When the flagging network turns to “leasing” him out nights and weekends, he can only be happy that he’s been leased to one man, and not hundreds, like some other television slaves.
Carl buys Daniel as a companion, not only because he’s admired him on TV, but also because he’s a fellow news man, and thinks Daniel would be a good friend outside of the bedroom. His complete lack of insight into the horrors of slavery was familiar to me in that I’ve seen the same shocking obtuseness in some of my #notallmen friends. To a much smaller degree, both situations tend to look like an otherwise good man trying, and mostly failing to peer across the veil of culture to see the very real divide between himself and someone he would have as a fellow.
Daniel is terrified of getting fucked by his strange new master, and the man’s inability to see his reality comes across as either cruelty or idiocy more often then not. Something I’m sure a lot of us can relate to. Whether they can get along, whether they can provide any small comfort to each other in a world so stratified, is yet to be seen.
This is the second edition of Anchored. Riptide has revised it, and added more than 10,000 words, which sort of makes me wonder what it was like before. The emotional twists and turns that a person is required to make in a situation where he does not have the right of choice are on display, as are the issues we find when a person of privilege tries to relate to someone on whom that privilege is built. It’s by no means perfect, but it’s amazing in it’s own right.
The scope of Anchored is broad, and the emotional landscape it lays out is a veritable mine field, but but it succeeds in being an extremely compelling and provoking thought-experiment that tries to answer the question: Can a slave truly love a master?
Because the only context I have for this is, of course, my own reality, I ended up interpreting a lot of the interaction through the lens of privilege, and to that end, this is a fascinating read all around. Every character is so real in their imperfection, in their raw humanity, that they could be people I know in my own right. When another, wise and maternal slave advises Daniel that it would be better for him if he resigned himself to what she regards as his sexual obligations to their master, I could almost hear my own mother and grandmother speaking in that moment. Her own history, and her own experience keep her a sympathetic character even after this horrific mutation of the birds and the bees talk. For this, and for so many other reasons, this book is a must-read for anyone who can take the violent, disturbing nature of the content.
Ultimately, things get a little too poly-anna for my feminist heart, but I also wasn’t outraged by the turn, and I could easily see myself being pissed had things gone another way. The fact that there is about 50% of a happy ending was, I think, a good choice given the venue. On the one hand, there’s no way a writer could have been so flippant as to give a life-long slave a happy ending, on the other hand, there’s no way a writer could be so cruel as to not give a life-long slave some kind of happy ending. Basically, I ain’t mad.
4 stars out of 5
Thanks to Netgalley and Samhain Publishing for the review copy.
You guys know I love me some L.A. Witt. She can take a story that might seem dull in another writers hands: mature, career oriented body guard falls for his younger, and saucier charge, and make it a cover to cover compelling read.
Navy copy Iskander Ayhan takes his first bodyguard assignment as yet another step in a military career ladder he desperately wants to climb, but he can’t see how guarding an admiral’s 22 year old son is anything but a joke. The only reason he can think of for the “need” for a body guard would have to do with political grand-standing, something Iskander sees as an all too common waste of taxpayer dollars. But when he gets to his post, it’s anything but grandstanding. If only Troy Dalton would be honest about the very real danger is in.
Troy has a secret, but the chances of him opening up to Iskander are slim to none. That is, until the sparks flying between them prove to me more than just skin deep. Can he trust his new body guard on the basis of their shared sexuality alone? Either way, he’ll have to trust someone. Before it’s too late for both of them.
Like I said, L.A. is the reason to read this book. Her inherent skill in storytelling and pacing take this out of the regular, everyday gay romance for me. The fact that nearly every novel she writes is a new and interesting journey is also a plus. It’s not the story, which is fairly run of the mill, but the way in which it’s told that make the difference between an okay book and a really good one. As usual, this is a good one.
4.5 out of 5 stars
… and this is all I have to show for it.
That is our cat with a hair tie on her tail.
I’ve been putting my forelock back into a ponytail while I’m working because it gets in my eyes.
It’s not what I’d call a hot look, but it gets the job done.
15 movies that stuck with me, in no particular order, part 1
- The Wizard of Oz: A little girl wakes up in a world she can’t relate to and has to journey deeper into the weirdness in order to come out safely on the other side. Also, sparkly shoes. I was obsessed with The Wizard of Oz. I was the Wicked Witch of the West three Halloweens in a row. My grandmother also had the books, which went on beyond the Wizard of Oz. I can’t remember most of it, but the gist is that Dorothy continues to save Oz and be far more awesome than anyone on the farm could ever realize.
- Mystery Men: When Ben and I moved to Portland we realized that, between us, we had four copies of Mystery Men: two VHS, a DVD and a BluRay. Of the two VHS, one of them was a Spanish-subtitled version I picked up at the friends of the library bookstore in Glendora for $1. The other came with him, and the DVD and BluRay were both purchased in the last 10 years. This movie has everything. It’s basically Mighty Ducks, but with awesome superheroes and no dumb kids.
- Don’t Be a Menace to South Central While Drinking Your Juice in the Hood: My dad used to let me stay up late to watch In Living Color because he was afraid I wasn’t getting any “culture” growing up with my white grandma and step-grandfather. I grew up on the Waynes family. I never really watched SNL, so when I think about the comedies my childhood, it usually has at least one Wayanes attached to it somehow. Don’t Be a Menace is probably the best example of the spooftacular style that went on to be most popular in movies like White Chicks and Scary Movie. I’m sure it can’t be as awesome as it seemed, but I wanted to be a Wayanes so bad when I was a kid.
- Spaceballs: This is another dad-influenced pick. I’m pretty sure I watched Spaceballs before I ever saw Star Wars. In fact, I remember confusing the two and getting made fun of for it. I have way more love in my heart for Mel Brooks than George Lucas could ever inspire, even if we don’t count episodes 1-3. I tried to show Ben how great Mel Brooks was with Blazing Saddles, and it wasn’t even a third as funny as I remembered. It was kind of a reverse-Django in that long instances of silence were punctuated with the N word. Since then I’ve been afraid to watch my fave because I’m not sure I could take it if that scene with the storm troopers and the giant comb wasn’t as awesome as it was when I was 15.
- But I’m a Cheerleader: I watched this movie in high school because Kate was shocked I’d never seen it, and I instantly fell in love with it’s gooey, campy goodness. Not to downplay the massive sex-appeal of Clea Duval, but I knew this movie was for me when the butchy tom boy with a shaved head tells the entire house that she likes balls. As in man balls, and the counselors say that there’s no way she likes balls because she was abused by her uncle, so she runs away in tears. Her butch-ness was played for laughs, in the same way as the guys fayness was, but I still loved every second of that movie. It’s not something that anybody could get away with today. Already a lot of it is pretty dated. But I don’t care, I like balls!!!
Thanks to NetGalley and Random House for the review copy
Sigmund is a mild-mannered IT drone by day, and a mild-mannered video game programmer by night. When he attracts the attention of Travis Hale, the more-than-meets-the-eye CEO of his company, things get interesting. Soon, there’s a new guy in the desk next to his: Lain Laufeyjarson, a stunning, mysterious liar who seems to think the nerdy Sigmund hangs the moon, but where did he come from?
Being able to tell when people are dishonest is only one of Sigmund’s talents, but it’s the key to why the CEO and his new work friend seem so very interested in earning his affections.
Old grudges come to light while even older Gods do battle in the Australian suburbs with three human gamers caught in the middle. At least, they think they’re human.
Sigmund and his friends Em and Wayne are in for a wild ride when the Gods of the Norse pantheon come to town, with Loki at the forefront looking for none other than Sigmund himself.
Monster battles, double crosses, and some seriously adorable young nerds in like make this book both delightful and heartwarming. Pick it up.
4.5 stars out of 5
They say that half of design is taking out the dicks and the swastikas. Anybody who works for milk, or milk-like products should add cum to that prestigious industry filter.
Friend Chief found this amazing, cumtastic piece of milk promotion.
Let’s break it down:
The face you make when you know it’s about to hit your back:
The face you make when you remember that you forgot you kind of like it when it hits your back:
When you haven’t been able to find any “alone time” recently: (Or so I hear)
When you have a supportive, loving friend group:
When you just cant seem to get it off your hand:
That feeling of anticipation:
That ends in disappointment:
And finally, if we didn’t already get it, the logo is like two little dicks, coming at each other from opposite sides of the space:
Fortunately, Milk Life (with dicks) isn’t the first campaign to make this rather creepy analogy. Silk’s bukake version is even worse. Much worse.