So what were people doing without TV, internet and power during Hurricane Sandy? Those of us who weren’t gorging on non-perishable snacks, stalking strangers on Facebook and looking for their drag queen dopplegangers (I had power!) or confronting various existential life crisis were entertaining themselves the old-fashioned way. SEX.
According to the CityScape OB/GYN in Manhattan, there has been a significant increase in pregnancies originating at the time of Hurricane Sandy.
“We see around a 10 percent spike, so we’re anticipating a lot of business by the end of the summer,” said Dr. Luba Soskin.
Sounds like we should prepare ourselves for a Hurricane Sandy baby boom! Let’s hope these parents-to-be have the good sense not to name their children Sandy. That would just be wrong. [NBC New York]
Last week, a 15-year-old girl in the Maldives was sentenced to being flogged with 100 lashes for having consensual sex outside of marriage. Now the Islamic ministry and judiciary are being pressured to halt the public flogging or at least wait to carry it out until the youngster turns 18. If the criminalization of a woman’s sexuality is not bad enough (and yes, the AP confirms that it is usually the women who are flogged), it actually gets worse: the Muslim teen complained about sexual abuse by her stepfather and another man. In other words, she is allegedly the victim of sexual abuse by older men and now could be physically punished for having consensual sex. This is completely disgusting. [Seattle Times]
The New York Times Style section has gotten the memo: 50 Shades Of Grey is a book the ladies be readin’. Cue interviews with various and sundry New Yorkers who are involved in the kink scene, from sexual submissives to fire players. Actually, this article was written by a friend of mine named Matt and even if he wasn’t my bud, I’d still think this article about issues pertaining to kinky sex was a job well done.
Take note, other journalists who write about sex! Here’s six ways the New York Times actually got it right on kinky sex (or, as much as they could in one article): Keep reading »
I’m cautiously optimistic about the next episode of “Our America,” Lisa Ling’s docu-series on the OWN network, in which she discusses families/couplings who are non-monogamous. I’m pretty psyched anytime that the mainstream media acknowledges alternative sexualities at all, bonus points for when it acknowledges we are “normal.” Polyamory or even just being monogam-ish are more common than you think. This preview teases Ling’s show as answering the question “How many is too many?”, which is presupposing something is wrong with non-monogamy and that it is possible for there to be “too many” partners in a polyamorous union. Yet everyone who gets screen time in this preview seems happy with their personal decisions — and pretty “normal,” too. As American as apple pie, you might even say. “I Love You & You … & You” airs next week, Tuesday March 5 at 10/9c on OWN. [Oprah.com]
I am a writer.
Having said that, I ask that you bear in mind how broad that category is. I call myself a writer, and so does Philip Roth. So does my personal public enemy #1, a young woman I met in college who writes lip gloss reviews for a living. My point is that being a writer can mean a wide variety of things, and this week, for me, it meant getting in touch with male porn stars. Or rather, trying and mostly failing to get in touch with male porn stars.
The story started as all good stories do: With a penis. Surely you’ve heard the saying that you can judge a penis just by looking at the feet. Well, the other day I was sitting around bored and aimless, trying to decide what to write, when I started thinking about penises. This happens often, but on this specific occasion, the penises I’d started thinking about were The Penises That I Have Known. (I used CAPS just then because when you write about The Penises That You Have Known, it is important to be respectful.) Anyway, there I was thinking about The Penises That I Have Known, and as I continued thinking about them, I wondered if maybe there wasn’t a story there, a story in investigating whether the saying is true.
Alas: Although I could bring to mind the penises, I couldn’t remember the feet. It occurred to me then that thing to do would be to prove/disprove the idea, not with reference to my own experience, but by using male porn stars. Their penises are available to view, of course, so all I’d have to do was find the shoe size. Keep reading »