stop it or you’ll go blind

Err… How can I put this politely? Beating off, wanking, masturbation, all that stuff; we’ve all done it. Well, not me, obviously, but allegedly the other 99.5% of the male population does it all the time. This is despite knowing that, according to various religions, every sperm is sacred, we’ll grow hairs on our palms and/or we’ll all go blind.

Apparently, it gets worse. Researchers have discovered (how many dodgy news stories have you read that started with those three words?) that increased levels of throat cancer have been associated with oral sex. (Giving: I can’t think how receiving oral sex would be a problem.)

Last year, however, Gillison’s team published a major study that found stark differences between the risky behaviours of throat cancer patients with HPV and those without. The HPV-positive cancer patients tended to have had higher numbers of sex partners than the others and were far more likely to have had multiple oral-sex partners.
From theage.com.au today.

Great. Way to spoil everyone’s fun, guys.

Luckily, I think I’m in a position to allay any concerns you, the public, may have. Regard, if you will, the picture that accompanies that story, which I will helpfully reproduce below:

Did you notice how she’s sucking on a thermometer? There’s the problem.

Readers – add this to your notebooks – it’s generally not a good idea to chew or suck on a tube filled with mercury.

I’m surprised she doesn’t glow in the dark!

Running
My usual 12.5km course around the streets near my joint.

disaster after disaster

It’s been a couple of days since last I posted. My apologies, dear faithful reader.

My activities during that time can be summed up with one word: sweat. Adelaide may have recently set some sort of all-time record for continuous millennia spent above boiling point but Melbourne hasn’t been far behind. I was woken at 3am last night by the sound of the glass in my window panes melting. V. disturbing.

Thankfully a cool wind arrived today, bringing with it something approaching sanity.

In the meantime, the US has fallen further into bankruptcy, planes have crashed, and both Heather Mills and Wayne Carey continue breathing. In short, disaster after disaster.

I prefer, as you know, to focus on the lighter side of life. Like, for instance, this story:

Hotel offers sex toy minibar
The Vincent Hotel, in Southport, near Liverpool, will have “intimate seduction kits” in each of its 60 rooms from May, containing lubricating gel, massage oil, a vibrating ring and two condoms.

The kit will be in a sealed box alongside more traditional minibar items like nuts, chocolate and alcohol. Guests can request an extra special kit containing a whip, mask and bondage tape.

It’s all a bit unnecessary, as far as I’m concerned. A mini bottle of cheap scotch and a Toblerone and I’m anyone’s.

Also, and maybe I’m being naive here, but what’s the vibrating ring for? To remind you you’re married and you shouldn’t be shagging your secretary in some cheap English dive?

Running
A sweaty 10km at lunchtime today, before the change had adequately done its stuff. Still, a run’s a run.

adequate sex

I read online today, some international panel of “sex experts” (I wonder how you get to be one of those?) has decided that sex of between three and seven minutes is “adequate”, particularly for women.

Counter-intuitively:

“Usually women are quite happy with short intercourse, and are not bothered about prolonging it at all, but nearly all men want it to be much, much longer.”

I suspect there’s more to this story.

Consider this: don’t you think the figures would change depending on who you’re having sex with? If you’re having sex with Brad Pitt, a steamy seven minutes might not even scratch the surface, but if you’re unfortunate enough to fall into bed with someone like, well, me for example, three minutes might be more than enough.

You see, it’s all relative.

As my grammatically challenged colleagues would say, the “learning” to “take away” from all of this is that, from a woman’s perspective, sex should ideally be between three and seven minutes long.

That’s a fair bit of activity to squeeze into a short time: clearly there’s not enough time for foreplay.

Also, while all that post-coital cuddling stuff is super-fun, we simply don’t have time.

Running
I did plan on a run last night but I’m afraid I’ve disappointed you loyal readers. Yet again. The horizontal position was just too attractive. Get your mind out of the gutter: no horizontal jogging, just sleep.

nigella lawson, tyra banks and rotting fish

Before you say anything, I’m no starry-eyed idealist. I know about global warming, the war on terror, imminent global recessions and the like. But still, sometimes you have to say the world’s not such a bad place.

Take this: Marieke Hardy describing the experience of watching a Nigella Lawson cooking show as:

like being tied up with leather straps and flogged by Enid Blyton.

You know what: she’s completely, 100% correct. What’s more, it’s the kind of image that should brighten everyone’s day.

Or perhaps it’s just me.

Anyway, that’s one good thing. Also, I don’t know if you saw this but apparently on America’s Next Top Model tonight “each contestant is asked to hang upside down in a net filled with rotting fish.”

Any world that can turn Tyra Banks into a fetid sardine on prime-time TV is all-right by me.

Running
This morning’s lazy stroll around the Tan this morning was so enjoyable I felt I had to do it twice. The second time was even more enjoyable, if a touch sweatier than normal.

sex and running shoes

I don’t know if you filled in the 2007 Runner’s World “If the shoe fits” survey recently. Did you? It’s kinda buried at the bottom of the Runner’s World homepage.

It’s all fairly innocuous: what brand of shoes do you wear; how many pairs do you own, blah-de-blah. Except for this one:

22. Have you ever had sex while wearing your running shoes?

Eh? Come again?

How did that one slip in there? I answered it (none of your business), but not without trepidations.

Just what are they planning to do with that data? Are the world’s running shoe manufacturers proposing to design shagging-specific models?

I can imagine it. Within a few years, the conversations in Rebel Sports shoes section will go something like this:

Salesperson: Do you pronate or are you neutral?
Customer: Pronate
Salesperson: Do you dress to the left or the right?
Customer: Oh, left please
Salesperson: Top or bottom?
Customer: A bit of both
Salesperson: I recommend either the Brooks SexBeast 1.2, Asics LoveGel 2210, or Adidas Pornstar Control.

Before you ask: yes I have too much time on my hands today.