I don’t know about you, but being out in the sun for long stretches of time makes me very, very hungry. I would happily consider wearing a bikini that would both protect me from the sun and from hunger. So what if I can’t wear it while I swim? At least I won’t have to pack a sandwich. This pizzakini is perfect for poolside tanning and snacking — two of my favorite summer activities. Click through to see some more fabulous foodkinis. [The Clearly Dope]
Who’d've thunk? For all Chelsea Handler’s crowing about sleeping with 50 Cent, his ex-girlfriend is none too impressed with his bedroom skills. Shaniqua Tompkins blabbed to the blog Mommys Dirty Little Secret that Fiddy was just “okay” in bed. When asked if she’d sleep with him again, Tompkins said, “No, he’s hard enough to get rid of, that would just make it worse.”
In the same interview, Floyd Mayweather, Jr.’s ex/baby mama Josie Harris also blabbed about her famous bedmate. Harris flat-out trashed Mayweather as “boring in bed,” and said she would only sleep with him “if he had a drink first. Sober Floyd is boring and I like to have fun in bed!” Buuuurn. [Vibe Vixen]
Thanks for the warning, ladies! We’re filing away this important information, in case we’re ever so desperate we need Chelsea Handler’s sloppy seconds or a noted domestic abuser. But these aren’t the only celebrity sex resumes you can find online: we’ve got all the deets on who’s a baller and who’s a blunderer in bed. Oh, Brody Jenner, why are we not the least bit surprised about you?
In this Craitgslist ad, a woman offered to trade her three-month-old weave for a prescription for birth control. A fair exchange? Hmmm. I guess it depends on how many months supply of the Pill she would be getting. But don’t forget about the complimentary bottle of hair conditioner. That’s worth something. I wonder if there were any takers. Also, has it really come to this? I guess it has. [WOW]
50 Shades Of Grey may well be one of the worst-written books ever. But being a blight on the face of literature isn’t the reason Brevard County Public Library in Florida pulled the BDSM erotica novel from shelves: they called 50 Shades ”pornography.” But Brevard County is not consistent in what they consider “pornographic” and what they consider simply “erotic”; The New York Times found other sexy books on the shelves, like The Complete Kama Sutra and Lolita. A spokesman for the county government said the latter books were acceptable because they had “become part of the societal mainstream.” Here’s hoping this is the work of overzealous local government officials, not librarians themselves. In any case, is this a plus-one in the Florida column for keeping such terrible writing away from readers? Or a minus-one for censorship? I’m not even sure. [NY Times]
You can say a lot of things about sex with a Frisky girl, but one thing you can’t say is that we’re stingy. Nope, we’re like Oprah on her “My Favorite Things” episode only with, uh, blowjobs.
However, we are not always so fortunate with the gentlemen with whom we choose to share our beds. I know this will come as a complete shock to you, but there’s some greedy, selfish lovers out there who just take-take-take and then roll over and fall asleep. There’s nothing sadder than a snoring man in your bed and you’re getting yourself off with your vibrator. Nope, not even doggies without legs.
We polled our ladyfriends on this startling phenomenon and here’s the true-life tales of selfish lovers past:
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There was nothing wrong with her. She was not to blame. She was the apotheosis of lust, comprising every element of cisgendered sex from the grrrl-next-door to the bust-down. I wanted her. I needed her. It’s just that this time — this one time — I couldn’t orgasm. Yes, I loved sex, and yes, I loved her, but my body wasn’t cooperating. It’s just wasn’t going to happen that night. It had nothing to do with how I felt about her. She had no reason to feel inadequate.
I repeated the sentiments above to her for two hours. I did it while naked, sweaty, and lying next to her existential crisis. Young and dumb, I believed honesty was the easiest policy. I underestimated the alacrity with which my partner would adopt my malfunction as her own. To her, a man’s orgasm was a simple machine. To not successfully “operate” such a thing felt like the cruelest sleight to her femininity. Obviously, this was not the truth. Unfortunately, the truth rarely has a place with young lovers. I vowed to never repeat such an ordeal. But to keep that promise, I knew sometimes I’d have to fake it. Here’s what I did… Keep reading »