200-Year-Old Cosmo Predecessor Going Up For Auction

Around 1680, a publication titled Aristotle’s Compleat Master-Piece began to pop up wherever pamphlets/books were being sold in ye olde Londontown. A racy little piece, it was a reference guide for young married couples getting their freak on for the first time.

And, you know, trying to make some babies… or whatever.

But the little book was considered too risqué for the delicate constitutions of the day, and it ended up banned in the mid-18th century (only in the UK- you could still snag a copy elsewhere).

So, what makes the little books so very naughty?

…Not much, actually. To our eyes (our filthy, degenerate, immoral eyes), the little book doesn’t contain anything all that dirty. One of the book specialists at the auctioneers, Cathy Marsden, called it, “funny more than anything.”

The little book contains warning about what could happen if *le gasp* you conceived a baby out of wedlock. Apparently, your baby could be born all hairy or be Siamese twins.

O, THE PERILS OF YOUR HIDEOUS SIN SEXING!

Actually, most experts believe it is the images in the little book that led to its ban (a ban that lasted until the 1960s, when morality imploded):

Because it is a fact that all women have creepy alien flora in their bellies.

The images aren’t so much graphic as strange- children with mouths for navels, ladies blossoming open to reveal babies, and men with extra limbs dancing around.

The book is interesting for a few reasons. First, it showcases the 17th century notion that women are supposed to enjoy sex as much as men (say it isn’t so!), because they believed a woman’s pleasure directly tied into the ease with which she conceived. This is an idea that gets squashed in the Victorian era after it’s learned women can conceive without orgasming, making female enjoyment of sex not only less important, but generally looked down upon (those wanton hussies).

But the little book is also interesting because, despite being attributed to Aristotle, none of his work appears in the text. Nothing is known about its actual author. Marsden speculates it was attributed to Aristotle because they were “trying to make it sound better or more worthy than it might have been.”

Regardless, the little book was very popular, even after the ban. It thrived on the black market and could easily be obtained under the counter all over the UK.

An amusing example of this is a newspaper clipping from the 1930s. An author of an advice column was asked where a copy of the book could be obtained, to which the author replied, ”You may not buy a copy of Aristotle’s Complete Masterpiece. You may expect to pay three-and-sixpence.”

The edition going up for auction in a few weeks at Lyon and Turnbull, an Edinburgh auction house, is from the 1760s. They expect to fetch up to £400 for it.

Not too shabby for faux-Aristotle’s not-terribly-naughty guide to making love at a woman.

Three Paths to Recumbent Robotic Rapture

Galleons, the world right now is suffering from future priapism. And by that, I mean we have had a collective, raging boner for the tech and advancements promised to us by science fiction authors for decades. We all want cars that can drive themselves and holographic computers we can interact with more organically, computers that will anticipate our whims.

And so, we’ve started a smart tech revolution. Smart phones, smart cars, smart boards. We have QR codes and 3D televisions and motion/voice activated game systems. Siri is everyone’s new best friend.

So, it really shouldn’t come as a surprise that smart tech has found its way into slightly more naughty arenas as well. Turns out sex toys are getting an intelligence boost as well.

If letting Skynet near your genitals is your bag, oh boy, you’re going to love this.

For the Ladies

First up is Siri’s slutty cousin, SaSi. SaSi is a fairly innocuous looking little vibrator:

In fact, it barely looks like a sex toy at all. However, this little thing is one of the smartest sex toys on the market.

So… what the hell does it do?

Those buttons on the top there are the controls for SaSi. Which, if you are familiar with vibrators at all (if not, you’ll just have to trust an expert here), already seem a bit complex. Most vibes have a simple wheel or set of buttons that control the intensity/pattern of the vibration. SaSi, on the other hand, lets you do a hell of a lot more.

On the underside of SaSi is a little nubbin (for your little nubbin… jesus, never let me call a clit that again, galleons). HINT: This is where the magic happens.

Not only does SaSi vibrate, that little ball on her belly also manipulates the clit and labial region. The ball moves in 11 patterns- U’s, J’s, and a variety of arcs. So, SaSi requires 5 buttons to run her… as well as a 22-page instruction manual.

But while SaSi’s variety of choices certainly makes her an interesting addition to one’s sexual toy chest, that’s not what makes her smart. See, SaSi can learn.

You can actually program the device to learn your favorite combinations of moves to make a personalized masturbatory experience. So, if you have $150 lying around (the future isn’t cheap, you know), apparently this is the vibe to own.

…If only I could also program it to growl physics at me during the act. Then it would be perfect.

For the Gents

This is a toy that’s been around for a while, and might not seem all that smart when compared to the others, but I’ll include it mostly because the guys (who already get shafted when it comes to sex toys) don’t really have a good smart sex toy option. Which is odd, seeing as everyone always touts males as being the ones who want all teh tech gadgetz.

Sure, there are some toys out there that are clever (and some computer programs and robotic love dolls that range from the weird to the sad to what-the-ever-loving-fuck), but none that really scream FUTURE SEXIN’. The closest you poor bastards get is the Autoblow Blast! (a name which necessitates an exclamation point after it in my book), an automated blowjob mechanism.

If it looks like a Fleshlight with a remote attached, that’s because that’s essentially what it is. Within that dark cylinder is a set of spring-loaded beads (always with the beads and balls, these sex toys) covered by a silicone sleeve. So, you stick your cock in that thing and let the little balls massage your dong while the thing also applies some suction.

Sounds about right to me.

…

What? Don’t most people perform blowjobs while simultaneously gargling marbles?

Anyway, it’s just a vaguely robotic blowjob in a can.

Sorry, guys. Your future looks really, really sad (perhaps you will be too busy banging sexy aliens to have to worry about this kind of thing, yes?).

For Couples

Video chat isn’t the only thing helping long distance couples keep the passion alive.

…Actually, that’s fairly close (and does, in fact, exist). But we want something that isn’t fit for prime time television. We want something a bit more intimate.

In short, we want the LovePalz:

LovePalz features two toys- the pink “Hera” for ladies (aka The Shaft) and the blue “Zeus” for gents (aka The Sheath). The devices are wi-fi enabled and communicate with each other while in use through the LovePalz app (which also allows for video chat, so you can watch your lover as you’re giving them a hawt robot dicking). So, The Sheath senses how fast the dude’s pumping and transmits that info to The Shaft, which matches said speed. The Shaft, meanwhile, sense how tightly the lady’s inner muscles are clenching and sends that info over to The Sheath, which configures its own tightness to match.

Interesting, to be sure. What’s more interesting is the fact that the “Zeus” toy is described as having an “automatic piston.” I’m sorry, but if I were a guy, I’d be hesitant to stick my cock into something that sounds like it belongs beneath the hood of my car.

Just sayin’.

In Which Getting Buzzed at the Bar Gains a Whole New Meaning in Japan

Oh, my sweet galleons. I’m sure you are all aware of many of the… peculiarities of the Japanese sex industry. Hell, we’ve even touched on a few here. But only a few, because that shit gets weird fast.

Like the new bar that just opened up in Tokyo- Love Joule. On first approach, it’s just a nondescript establishment in the bustling Japanese city:

Meander inside the innocuous looking building, however, and you are greeted by a bar quite unlike your typical urban watering hole:

Love Joule is Japan’s first bar dedicated to female masturbation. Which is a strange bar theme, but hey, you can only go to so many faux cowboy saloons and skanky dance joints before you are looking for something new.

Of course, the question is: how exactly can a bar claim it’s all about lady wanking? I mean, is it a place for women to masturbate? Do you order a vibe and perch precariously on a barstool, buzzing your way to a public orgasm?

I mean, I guess that would explain the name- all that sexy electricity is bound to produce a few love Joules.

Sadly, the bar doesn’t actually seem to be too keen on ladies actually getting freaky with a dildo on their dance floor. Instead, it’s meant to be a fun, safe place for women to discuss sex and relationships. And when I say safe, I mean safe from single dudes coming up to the women and hitting on them (which, you know, is a bad thing… we’re dedicated to masturbation here, dammit, not sex), seeing as single males aren’t allowed in. Coupled guys are, however, provided they show up with their lady.

Because the best place to have “the relationship talk” is in a girly bar surrounded by fucksticks as big as your arm, designed to penetrate a lady in both orifices while massaging her innards with a soothing collection of old pinball balls.

The bar hopes to help eradicate the stigma surrounding female masturbation in a manner that is lighthearted while still fostering a haven for women to have serious, playful, and exploratory conversations about sex and men.

As far as I’m aware, the silicone joy wands lining the wall behind the bar aren’t for use in the bar proper, but can be purchased by ladies on their way home to test out their new knowledge on their knickered bits.

Or, possibly, they’re used to stir the cocktails. I’m really not sure.

Interestingly enough, the proprietor of Love Joule is none other than Megumi Nakagawa, the man who introduced the male masturbatory community to the Tenga eggs.

I guess he’s found his path in life. A solitary path.

A Panoply of Protozoan Persuasions

Sometimes, it can seem as if men and women are completely different species (at least, that’s what the trashy magazines and multitude of shitty books on relationships would have you believe). Indeed, the behavioral and hormonal differences between the two can often feel like an insurmountable gap for some.

But imagine how much tougher those whinging tits would have it if they had to contend with seven sexes, not just two.

Sound crazy? Well, it’s not crazy if you’re a protozoa. Namely, not if you are Tetrahymena thermophila, which are fairly common fresh water ciliates who just so happen to have seven different genders (conveniently named I – VII). Not only that, but our little unicellular friend also has two nuclei: a macronucleus for all its basic cellular functions, and a micronucleus dedicated to getting it on.

That’s right- their sex life is too complicated for their regular nucleus. An individual sex cannot reproduce with another of the same type (Type I can’t have little protist babies with another Type I, for example), but those 7 sexes can combined in 21 different combinations.

So yeah, it’s a little more complicated than man + woman = baby.

But what’s really interesting about these little guys is that those 7 sexes are not evenly distributed through the population. See, their sex is not determined solely by genetics (like a human’s is). Instead, their genes give them a probability of being born a certain sex- the environment is actually the determining factor (this is not a unique trait- there are many other species, including the three-lined skink lizard, that incorporate temperature and environment into sexual determination).

The sex-influencing mat gene and 13 other alleles are the influencing genetic bits. And the mat gene comes in multiple varieties, so when you really think about it, it’s no wonder the little guys need a completely separate nucleus to handle procreation.

Anyway, the alleles that allow for the possibility of multiple different gender outcomes perform better than those that only allow for one, which eventually skews the population a bit.

Seven sexes may seem like overkill, but it appears to be working for these little guys. They’re like a tiny, Earth-based version of Star Trek Species 8472 (which had 5 sexes, I believe)… only not as ugly:

I’m not sure how you determine this thing’s sex, but sure, go over there and check between its legs… I fucking dare you.

Somehow, I Don’t Think That’s What the Build-a-Bear Folks Meant When They Said Their Toys Are “Stuffed With Love”

Galleons, we did a post a while back that featured this abomination of a homemade sex… toy:

And while I remain mildly disturbed by a woman copulating with a teddy bear, what you do behind your own closed doors (with or without the teddy bear’s consent) is fine. I’d say I won’t judge, but I’m a judgmental twat, so…

However, some people are taking their stuffed ursine lovin’ to the streets. Namely, to the streets of Cinncinati. And when I say people, I really just mean one bloke. Charles Marshall. Seems this fellow got himself arrested last Wednesday after he was caught making sweet love to a teddy bear in the alley behind a health clinic, hauled in on charges of disorderly conduct.

The fate of the poor plush victim remains unknown.

Things get interesting when we learn that this isn’t the first time Marshall has found himself in this situation. Turns out, the man’s been arrestedfour times in the last two years for being found, somewhere, beating the meat with a toy bear.

The first time found him with his pants down in a men’s bathroom at a city library, after which a judge told him to stay the fuck away from libraries. Probably worried the Berenstain Bears series was like porn to the guy.

The fuck?

A few months later, Charles was back in action, once again being caught with his trousers down and a teddy out. The arresting officer noted that Mr. Marshall’s predilections had becoming an “ongoing problem.”

Almost a year passed and everyone was probably starting to breathe a collective sigh of relief. It’s okay to go outside again, children… Oh wait, no. It’s not. Because there’s Charles Marshall, taking Mr. Fuzzles and having his way with your beloved bear. Once again, Charles is hauled in on charges of public indecency for engaging in plushie masturbation in a public area where “minors were likely to be present.”

Now, it’s happened again.

WHEN WILL THE MADNESS END?

…I just gotta know one thing: Has he been monogamous the past two years, or has it been a different bear every time? Is the bear special, or are these just a series of one-night stands in dirty alleys and public restrooms?

Charles, here’s what you do. You go to a furry convention. You mingle a bit, have a few drinks. You find yourself a nice little bear. Chat them up.  Take them home. And you stop giving the Cinncinati police nightmares of your wang in the furry embrace of a child’s toy, okay?

Barflies

Back in the day (summer of ’08), the original Appletree gang got a bit tipsy one night and decided it was an utterly brilliant idea to get our cat drunk with us. Many valiant attempts were made, but the ever discerning Tutley never fell for any of our oh-so-clever tricks.

I’m assuming Ulrike Heberlein of the University of California also thought getting fruit flies drunk was a terribly bright idea, though (unlike us) she both succeeded and managed to make a valid scientific study out of it.

Perhaps I should be taking notes…

Anyway, Heberlein was supposedly studying how social experiences affect addiction (which is just another facet of her previous research in the genetic factors surrounding addiction). Particularly alcoholism. And it only made sense to study a social experience that often ties in with alcohol- sex.

Essentially, Heberlein wanted to know if sex (or a lack of it) directly impacted the amount an individual would drink. So, she got some fruit flies plastered.

It might seem strange to use fruit flies in place of humans in an experiment, but despite how odd it sounds, fruit flies are frequently used in research (remember that sleep study we looked at a few months ago?). And, in this case, the results could translate quite nicely to humans.

But, more on that in a minute.

Before Heberlein got her fruit flies drunk, she first let them commence the sexin’. Well, half of them. One half of the flies were placed in a container with females that had recently mated. Because there is a peptide in male fruit fly sperm that interacts with the female’s brain and causes her to reject all other males, all the little guys placed in with these females were told to FUCK OFF in fly talk. The other half of the male flies were placed in a container with virginal lady flies and proceeded to get their freak on.

Heberlein then took all the male flies (sexed and unsexed alike) and plopped them in a vial with two types of liquid food- regular food and food mixed with ethanol.

Turns out, the males who had just been rejected showed a much higher preference for the boozy option.

So… why?

We always talk about folks “drowning their sorrows” in a pint at a local bar after some dame/bloke breaks their heart, but what is it about that sweet, sweet alcohol that causes us to gravitate toward it during these times of sexual duress? Heberlein posits that, in flies, it’s neuropeptide F.

What is neuropeptide F? It’s a neuropeptide that’s part of the fly brain’s reward system. The flies that had mated exhibited a much higher level of neuropeptide F than those who had not. To test if there was a direct connection between neuropeptide F and excessive imbibing, Heberlein genetically fiddled with her flies, increasing the neuropeptide F in the unsexed flies (which caused them to drink less) and lowering it in the sexed flies (causing them to drink more).

Yep, there was a definite correlation between neuropeptide F levels and alcohol consumption.

This can (potentially) transfer over to humans. The human version of neuropeptide F is neuropeptide Y. Neuropeptide Y is already tied to depression and post-traumatic stress disorder. This evidence, coupled with the recent fruit fly study, suggests that neuropeptide Y could also have a direct link to alcoholism.

You know what that means, right?

…

…

…

*ahem*

ATTENTION WORLD AT LARGE:

SEX IS GOOD FOR YOU.

Shocking, I know.

***

More importantly, I think we’re all wondering… just how funny was it to watch those fruit flies get drunk?

“The first time I saw a drunk fly, I thought: ‘Oh my god, this is just like humans,” [Heberlein] recounted.

According to Heberlein the flies become uncoordinated, hyperactive and uninhibited.

“They bump into each other and the walls. If you give them more alcohol they become lethargic and uncoordinated. They fall over, pick themselves up and fall over again. Eventually they pass out.”

I bet that was fucking hilarious.

In Which I Decide to Build Professor Ballard a Lovebot

Galleons, I figured out why my fish hates me: he’s lonely. I am terrible company, and I feel like he might desire a little fishie tête-à-tête. Some quality time with another Betta. You know, a little conversation, some playful flirting, and then BAM! Wild aquatic relations against the glass wall of the tank.

The Professor’s probably got mad game.

And while fish are all about the “lay some eggs and fertilize them” bit and less about naughty underwater shenanigans, Bettas actually have a bizarrely intimate portion of their mating ritual. In order for the female to release her eggs, the male Betta has to embrace her and squeeze them out.

Which can end horribly if the male is a bit too enthusiastic.

Now, much as I’d like the Professor to get some, I really have no need for little Professor spawnlets with some frilly tart. So, I think it’s time to get him a robot companion.

After all, Henrik Christensen of the European Robotics Research Network said that, “in five years time people would be having sex with functional robots.” I feel it’s only fair we give fish the same option.

***

All joking aside, scientists really are making robotic fishes. Of course, these robofish aren’t tiny sex aids. No, the robofish have been created to increase understanding of collective fish behavior.

Essentially, we’re creating tiny, fishie overlords.

Over at the Polytechnic Institute of New York University, engineers and researchers worked to create biomimetic fish in the hope to create a robot believable enough to be accepted among schools of fish, a robot that could be used to steer schools away from environmental disasters, preserving their populations.

Their robot design was very simple:

It doesn’t seem like this little guy could fool a fish, but it’s less about looks among fish-kind and more about… tail movement.

An interesting thing about schools of fish is that their tail beat frequencies (yeah, we’ve measured that) vary depending on their position within the school. The leader fish has a greater tail beat frequency, and fish further back in the school have slower and slower tail beat frequencies. Essentially, the rest of the school is drafting the leader.

Knowing this, the NYU-Poly engineers worked to create a fishbot that accurately mimicked tail propulsion of a swimming fish. Having done this, they dropped their little robofish into a group of golden shiners. When the robot was just floating about, the fish didn’t pay it any heed. However, when they made the little robot’s tail mimic the tail beat frequency of a leader fish, the school moved behind the leaderbot, slowing their own tail beat frequencies and behaving just like they do in the wild.

Using little biomimetic fish as school leaders could allow us to lead schools of fish away from hazardous things like oil spills or dams. And fish could just be the beginning- researchers are now excited to try creating other types of robocreatures, something that would help conservationist efforts and help us learn more about animal group behavior.

They’re probably not thinking about making sexbots, though. Sorry, Professor.

Now With 73% More Tentacles!

WARNING: Uh… contains material that is NSFW. Really? Do I still have to say this after all this time? You should just know better by now, my galleons.

Oh, Japan. Your sex industry is something to be both respected and reviled. After all, one has to tip one’s hat to a country sporting a seven-story sex shop and such a… wide variety of sexual oddities. Then again, your young-girl fetish, bondage/rape obsession, and the fact that you sell used panties to horny dudes pushes you into the realm of fucked up.

But, when the world thinks of Japan and sex, what comes to mind is not the wide-eyed girls in skimpy school uniforms or the sexbots or the fact that you put Hello Kitty on the least (…or most?) appropriate items. No.

It’s the tentacle porn.

The Japanese obsession with tentacles isn’t a new thing. Hell, we all know that Edo-period woodcut, The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife:

For the record, not the only squid-sexin’ image of the time. Which makes you wonder, doesn’t it?

Anyway, Japan has a history with tentacles. And today, their tentacle-fixation has come to rest in their hentai (anime porn). Which is fine. We all laugh about it, make the jokes, secretly take a peek to see what it’s all about and then walk away, mentally traumatized.

Well, most of us do. But for some, making sweet underwater love with a cephalopod seems scintillating. They crave them some sexy, suction-y shenanigans, and by Neptune’s trident, who are we to deny them their bizarre desires?

Galleons, let’s talk tentacles.¹

***

When it comes to experiencing tentacular bliss, it’s entirely unsurprising that the majority of simulated appendages are for penetration. Not just because of the rather phallic shape of the tentacle itself, but also because most sex toys are made for the ladies. And so, when it comes to tentacle-themed sex toys, most of them are some form of dildo or vibrator.

Your basic sextacles (No? Hmm… have to come up with something better before the end of this post) range from the simple to the more ornate. First up, you have your just-a-touch-off-normal, vaguely alien looking (though, really, aren’t most sex toys?) purple pleaser:

to this blue, curvy, more detailed model:

to the heavily detailed, like this cerulean monstrosity from the deep:

And for those of a slightly classier bent, there are some elegant glass ones, like this wicked red number:

But those are just the silicone/silica standard fare. And since when are we only interested in the basics, dear galleons? Oh no, not here. I have slogged through some of those shady parts of the internet I vowed to avoid in order to bring you the best of the tentacle offerings.

No, seriously, I saw things I can’t unsee. I didn’t even think it was possible to shock me anymore. Thank you, Internet, for proving me wrong.

Anyway, if you want the bestest, most amazing bit of tenticlish goodness, look no further than this:

BEHOLD THE SQUILDO!

An unholy collaboration between a custom sex toy company and Minneapolis artists, this must have been commissioned by Cthulhu himself and bestowed upon the world in all its wriggly, naughtical glory.

SQUILDO! ASSIST ME!

Actually, beyond it being hilarious/ridiculous, I love Squildo because it was supposedly created in honor of Octopotuthis deletron, which is species of squid noted for the males having a penis (which is unusual for squids). What I find particularly amusing about Octopotuthis deletron is that, because it’s so difficult to determine whether they’re meeting a male or female in the dark ocean depths, these guys just go ahead and attach sperm packets to everyone they meet.

You know, just in case.

But in case Squildo gets lonely, there are some little friends you can get for him to socialize with (and sperm packetize), specially made for your other orifices. Here’s the eight-armed butt plug:

The wriggly, waterproof little vibe:

And the unnecessarily squiddy ball gag:

Look at that. You can single-handedly be an entire squid exhibit at a zoo with these babies.

Now, if you’re a gent wanting some hot, slimy tentacle lovin’, what are you to do? All of the dildos can be used anally, certainly, but not everyone is into penetration. If what you’re looking for is more of a suction-cup happy tentacle-job, a little cepholopoddy delight for your dick, it’s cool. There’s a penis sleeve for that:

With more suction than even the finest human fellator can manage, now even the blokes can experience the divine grip of squishy tentacle passion.

Just like the fisherman’s wife.

Well…

…

…

Okay, if we’re being honest here, there’s no actual penetration evident in that naughty old woodcut. It’s about the squid getting all suction-y with that fishwife’s snatch and such. And so, it’s only fair that we cycle back to the start here.

With a little DIY tentacle toy goodness:

Someone modified a “pussy pump” to provide serious suction and vibration, then strapped a squishy squid toy to it to create the ultimate squid sexin’ fantasy.

…

Yep.

That happened.

***

Now, galleons, much as I mock, tease, and otherwise joke about much of what I feature in these sex posts, I don’t really care what gets you off. That’s your business (and, maybe, the business of some or all of your partners).

And when it comes to toys and sex play, hell, I’m all about you doing what makes you happy. And if tentacles give you a ride on the squiddly train to Orgasm Town, then by all means, buy your octopus ball gags and Squildos and hump away.

But galleons, it’s one thing to have an odd fetish you satisfy with some toys and a little role-playing, and another to go out and actually bang a squid.

Don’t bang squids.

And please, please don’t bang dead squids.

Don’t be this guy.

[For the record, the best part of that article is the bit when the prosecution amends the initial charge. I snorted ginger ale. It was painful... and worth it.]

Anyway, I’m now going to melon ball my eyes out and boil them in bleach. Seriously, there are things out there in Internetland that no one should ever see.

1 Okay, so, from a technical standpoint, when we call most deep-sea squiggly bits “tentacles,” we’re actually lying our little asses off. See, tentacles are long, flexible organs, with suckers (if there are any) located only on the clubbed tips. Arms can have suckers all along their length. Squids have arms and tentacles. Octopuses, on the other hand, just have arms. While most of the toys featured in today’s post are technically more akin to arms than they are to tentacles, they’re ridiculously shaped fucksticks- I can call them whatever the hell I want. So there.

Quelling the Bacon Mania

So, I was Stumbling this morning (as I am wont to do) when I came across this old standby:

And I remembered that, way back when, upon first viewing, this image garnered a titter from me. Now, though, I find it tiresome.

Dear galleons, I fear bacon has jumped the shark.

Wacky bacon humor used to be internet gold. Combining something universally beloved with the utter absurdity that is so carefully fostered in the seedy back alleys of the interweb, whimsical bacon products and jokes became something the pasty, basement-dwelling webtrons could channel their imaginations toward.

But, like all memes (including those featuring kittens lacking proper educations), it eventually lost its luster. Where once the piggy goodness was the source of boundless giggles, now it struggled to stir most to even a small smile. Even when it teamed up with the kittehs:

I think it is time we gave bacon humor its long-deserved send off. Think of the delicious meat, too long abused for our pleasure. Let us no longer fry up its long-dead corpse for a few drippings of tepid amusement. Let us bid our ridiculous bacon recipes adieu. Let us give bacon its dignity back. We shall look back and celebrate its tenure here in internetland… and then we will say goodbye and let it go back to gracing our breakfast plates and pizzas.

***

Bacon has long been a breakfast staple, but it soon became evident that the delicious piggy meat could not be confined to a single meal. It was time for bacon to spread itself to all other meals of the day (and no, I’m not not simply referring to a brinner situation here). It started small. Some bacon on a sammich. In a salad. On a pizza.

Then, it started to spread. Bacon started to infuse all number of foods… literally.

As if it wasn’t enough to eat delicious bacon at breakfast, you can now have bacon in your coffee. Twice the bacon for your morning enjoyment. How can you go wrong?

But if you’d rather be drinking your bacon at other times of the day, don’t worry- there’s bacon for that. Bakon Vodka is, as you surmised, a bacon infused vodka.

But if your aren’t a hard liquor fan, there’s also bacon beer! Rogue Brewing Company (who make a pretty decent mocha porter) recently made a small-batch beer full of bacon-y flavor (and encased in a hideous pink bottle):

By all accounts, this brew is fucking atrocious, so I’m not going to recommend you run out and try to acquire it, dear galleons. But that’s okay, as this Pepto Bismol colored abomination isn’t your only choice when it comes to fine bacon beer. Because, like many things beer, the Germans have been doing this for years. Rauchbier is a German style of beer where the grains are cured over burning beech wood before they’re brewed. This leads to that smoky flavor associated with bacon.

Okay, so maybe that last one doesn’t actually contain bacon, but I give it points for bottling the spirit of bacon.

But if you’d prefer to masticate your bacon as God intended, there are a variety of avenues available to you. The strangest may be that of baconized desserts. From “exotic” bacon candy bars to festive bacon candy canes, you can purchase any number of chocolatey, sugary, bacony delicacies. But why buy them when you can pretend you are Mary Shelley competing on Iron Chef and make your own monstrous baked goods. Like this maple bacon ice cream or these bacon brownies (…I actually have all the ingredients for the latter currently floating about my kitchen, and I’m not going to lie, there’s a part of me that’s curious enough to want to make them- FOR SCIENCE) or this candied bacon cheesecake.

And to hold you over between courses of bacon, there’s a maple bacon lollipop that’ll get you your meaty fix.

Or maybe you want the ability to baconize anything at a moment’s notice. To do that, you’ll need a bacony condiment you can slather on whatever meat/bread/vegetable/sweet/legume is in your immediate vicinity. Thank jeebus for the internet, where I can find not just bacon ketchup (which seemed like the obvious condiment choice), but also bacon hot sauce, a catch-all bacon seasoning, and the slightly more expensive bacon jam, a spreadable bacon purée.

Not fancy enough? Fine. Here’s some goddamn bacony trout roe, you uppity bacon snobs.

***

So yes, you can eat, drink, or otherwise ingest bacon in a myriad of forms. But what if that isn’t enough bacon in your life?

Galleons, it’s time for the weird, the humorous, and the just plain ridiculous bacon novelties on the market today.

Not quite a food product (and thus included here), bacon mints are the first item on the list. For a between meals bacon flavored pick-me-up or for someone who just likes their pig basted in Scope:

Or maybe those, like the following products, are the perfect solution for someone trying to cut back on their bacon intake (which seems scandalous). You can get that hint of bacon flavor without having to touch the abomination of actual bacon substitutes:

If the mints aren’t enough, that’s okay- we’ve infused bacon into all manner of common items. Like lip balm:

Or bacon toothpicks. Or envelopes. That’s right- out there in the world are envelopes with the sticky bit flavored like a slice of meaty bacon. It’s the post office’s last ditch effort to keep afloat.

And the fun doesn’t stop there. Why should you settle for anything less than filling your every corpuscle with bacony goodness? Inject some bacon into your morning routine with the oh-so-appetizing bacon floss. Or, better yet, lather up with some probably counterproductive bacon soap:

Which naturally begs the question:

Perhaps it’s not just the flavor of bacon that seduces you, but the aroma itself. But if you can’t afford to be cooking up bacon every time you feel like having some bacon-smell assail your olfactory glands, fear not! You can simply hang up a bacon air freshener or burn a smoky bacon candle to set the mood.

Set the mood for what? A thrilling night of fun with Mr. Bacon’s Big Adventure?

Oh, please. Let’s have some grown up fun, shall we? Burn that bacon scented candle, give your lady a meaty bouquet

And then get squelchy with that perennial favorite:

BACON LUBE!

The classiest of the bacon related products, bacon lube allows you a little extra meat for your meat, some pork while you pork.

For the record, I love part of the description on this product:

So who’s responsible for this highly anticipated creation actually coming to life? You are, that’s who. You and an intern named Martin actually, who sacrificed and offended his taste buds in the name of science on sample after failed sample before this really did taste like bacon.

You can’t argue with science.

***

…You know what, galleons? FUCK THIS SHIT. Bacon is delicious. And funny. And I don’t want it to die.

Bring it on, internet.

Les Préliminaires Dangereuses

I promise I’ll lay off the sex toy posts for a while, dear galleons… after today.

Unlike recent postings, however, I’m not going to spend our time together making snarky remarks about various sexytime aids. Instead, I’m going to tell you a little story.

And make snarky comments throughout, because that’s what I do.

Nearly a month ago, a California woman named April Bonjour (stripper or porn star?) was getting frisky with her man. Nothing too exciting, just a little foreplay action with a vibrator. However, while her lady bits were abuzzin’, she claims to have felt a “sharp pain” in her nether parts. When her boyfriend removed the toy, it was covered in blood.

To be honest, I imagine him removing the toy and her vagina doing something like this:

Anyway, April is bleeding. A lot. Thinking she just started her period (okay, menstruation is often accompanied by cramping and general achiness, not intense, stabbing cooch pain… just saying), she grabs a box of sanitary pads. Which she goes through. That’s a lot of goddamn blood, galleons.

At this point, she realizes this is something rather serious (no shit). Her boyfriend calls 911 while she slips in and out of consciousness. Once at the hospital, she is given several pints of blood to replace what she’s already lost.

Now, this whole thing is bizarre enough, but leave it to an American to then decide to sue the company that made the toy that supposedly turned her vagina into hamburger- Pipedream Products. Apparently, she first filed a claim with them to get compensation, but they denied her… so, she filed a lawsuit.

What the fuck happened to this woman’s vag? SERIOUSLY. These are the only explanations I can come up with:

• April and her man friend didn’t inspect the vibrator before ramming it home, so they didn’t notice if it was damaged. A sharp bit of plastic would cause a fuck all of a laceration in the vaginal walls, and with the area already engorged from arousal, this could lead to some serious bleeding. Of course, this makes April and her man fucking retarded, as they somehow failed to notice that their little toy was mangled. 
• April was pregnant and suffered a miscarriage. Poorly timed, to be sure, but that would explain a sudden, searing pain near the uterus and a sudden gushing flow of blood. That being said, one would assume the hospital would test for that.
• April has access to a secret part of the Pipedream site that I do not, the part that contains the large, metal, spike-covered fucksticks that ripped her open like a Christmas present.
• While the claim states April was using the product as the defendant intended it to be used, we all know that people are complete morons. Perhaps April’s man’s interpretation of “intended usage” was to strap a knife to the vibrator and try to carve his girlfriend’s love tunnel like a jack-o’-lantern.
• April has the vaginal muscles of a jacked-up Mr. Universe. Her cunt latched onto the toy and squeezed it so hard it actually splintered and broke inside of her. Damn you, Kegels!
• Some women squirt a clear female ejaculate upon orgasm. April is a mutant who squirts blood. Her boyfriend should be proud- she’d apparently never had an orgasm until that day.

Honestly, I am completely baffled by this entire case. I wish I could find out exactly which toy April and her man were using, as then I’d at least be able to be confused in detail. Also, the exact damage to her vagina was never revealed. Was it a laceration or a full-on mushing?

So many questions.