Would the removal of clothing help create equality? Everyone is naked, everyone is who they are born to be, no hiding, no falsities, just equal….
Does me wearing me £80 Diesel Jeans, £30 Firetrap T-Shirt, £140 Full Circle coat and £35 FCUK scarf make me better than someone in trackies? Appearance wise yes, but is Jesus wore trackies next to me he’d still be ‘great’ right??
My point is clothing is false, remove these are we are no longer appearance judged we are characterised by who we are and what features we bring no the table and no our artificially enhanced appearance.
So I suggest naked thursdays, make it world wide, create equality. Reckon it will catch on?
Spark up the candles (or, you know, whatever you spark on birthdays) and get ready to sing a happy 34th go-round on this earth with lots of good wishes and eskimo kisses to the lovely and talented Milla Jovovich! One of my favorite Model Citizens, mothers, and all-around good-time gals. Keep on rocking in the free world, kiddo.
High Times, October 1994.
It’s your birthday; do what feels right!
lost credit please help
And we should really all say thank you to Milla for the memories. I mean, you do not even know how grateful I am for the huge folder on my computer, chock-full of amazing pictures of the girl. It took me ages to pick the right ones for this post.
by Ellen Von Unwerth for Vogue Italia, July 2009.
Besides screencaps from films like Dazed and Confused, the Fifth Element, Joan of Arc, and the Resident Evil flicks, I had to decide between photographs from devil-horned shoots with Ellen von Unwerth, topless shenanigans by David La Chapelle, that phatty spread in High Times, even … it was truly a challenge.
Paper magazine, 1994.
Man, this girl has given me some smiles over the years. Do your thing, chicken wing. Haters to the left! You keep on keepin’ on.
OK, here’s the thing dumbass Texas robber, you do not and I repeat do not, break into someones house and then strip off and have a bath in their tub! Firstly you could get Tinea and secondly the police are going to have to drag your naked ass out of it and arrest you.
My Japanese tipster, aka “the husband,” pointed me to this news story and these incredible photos about Hokkaido’s “misogi omatsuri” or festival.
I am not sure what the water is about, but it must certainly add to the masochism that Japanese are often fond of. Making this spiritual event all the more “moe,” only four men perform the ritual while everyone else watches them.
Sit back and take a deep breath ’cos we’ve got some SHOCKING news that will change the way you look at the world. Apparently, women don’t – that’s right, DON’T – find Toadfish Rebecchi from Neighbours sexually appealing.
“He’s absolutely disgusting,” bawled 20-year-old yooni student. “I’m into handsome, buff guys, and that bloke certainly doesn’t meet that description. He’s got no chance with me.”
Are you blind? What’s your favourite PORKING POSE?
“I like deep penetration, so doggy style’s a winner for me. And I don’t like wasting time with foreplay or anything like that, I just like to get right into the sex and go at it as hard as possible.”
Sounds good to us. What other stuff gets you grinning like a WANKING JAP?
“I’m an artist so I enjoy drawing, singing and taking photos – anything creative gets me going.”
Are you a PISS ARTIST, too?
“Yeah, I like going out for a few drinks and when I’m drunk I become everyone’s best friend.”
What’s your STICKIEST fantasy?
“I’d love to take on two guys at once. I’d choose David Boreanaz from Angel and another sexy bloke like…”
Toadie?
“For the last time, no!”
We tried our best, Toads, but it looks like you’ll be pulling yourself off again tonight.
What’s the sexiest thing a bloke can do?
“Dance with me.”
I have been out of contact for nearly two days now, and I thought I was going to lose my mind.
No computer, no cellphone, so no blog, no twitter, no texting, no calls!
I have done that before, but only when it was planned, this was definitely not planned! I had a small family emergency, so went away with no laptop and no phone charger, into an area that had no coverage anyway, and no computer. Just a landline that was still fixed to the wall…
All of that and no sex, and sharing a room so I couldn’t even take care of myself. It was a long couple of days I can tell you!
However, here I am once more, and I can tell you I will be making up for lost time. According to the met service, the weather is about to turn bad for a week. No chance then of getting that little bikini out and strutting my stuff. The good news is that Jise and I have both knocked off for Christmas already, so there will be plenty of us time! Oh yeah…
I miss the lovely and talented Bebe Buell, Miss November 1974 and mother of marvelous Liv Tyler, too much not to revisit her. Here are some of the pictures which I did not use last time, and fresh quotes. Plus bonus shots of both Liv and Bebe with her mother, also a vintage model!
Photographed by Richard Fegley Sometimes, when I see my picture in a magazine or watch Todd play at a concert for thousands of people, I almost have to pinch myself when I realize that less than three years ago, I was just a nobody from Virginia Beach who didn’t even know that there was a Todd Rundgren or such a thing as rock culture and the lifestyle that goes along with it. (“Bebe,” Playboy, November 1974. — I love that they did not even bother with a cutesy title. Really, who needs it?!)
One week not too long ago, for instance, Eric Clapton was in town for a concert. Todd and I were invited backstage, at which point Eric asked him to sit in. Then Mick Jagger walked into the dressing room, and later, when Todd was onstage, Mick and I talked and he said, ‘Why don’t you and Todd come over to my place tomorrow?’ His place turned out to be Andy Warhol’s summer cottage out on Montauk Point. And since then, he’s phoned several times from London just to find out how we are.
I bet he did.
I was turned on to rock ‘n’ roll by my grandfather, who played me my first Elvis Presley record. I went absolutely crazy! I was only seven, but I knew that from that point on, music was going to be my life. As I grew older and heard the Beatles, and then the Stones, my mind was made up — it was rock ‘n’ roll for me! (“My Story,” by Bebe Buell, Playboy.com)
Liv and Bebe in 1980 Just as we [Bebe and her former band the The Gargoyles] were getting ready to seal the deal and go on tour, my daughter’s paternity situation became public. And I had to really sit down and find that place inside of me that wasn’t going to be a narcissistic rocker and say, ‘Okay, what’s important right now?’ and because of Liv’s age at the time (14) when all this went public, I had to be there for her or she would have had a warped identity I think—what if I said, ‘Oh, I’m going on the road for two years, see ya honey. By the way, you have two dads!’ Steven Tyler was the actual father, Todd Rundgren raised her as his. (“Air Kisses for the Masses,” John Pfeiffer, The Aquarian Weekly, August 18, 2009.)
The rest of the quotes are from a very sweet and gracious interview Bebe did with LovelyLivTyler.com on the occasion of Liv’s 27th birthday.
Liv, Steven Tyler, and Bebe, 1996. Awwwkwaaard. There is so much of both of us and Todd [Rundgren] too in Liv’s personality. When she was little she stood just like Todd when she was “thinking” about something important. She has bits of all of us and then the individual things that are uniquely Liv. She has only the best of us three.
Liv, Bebe, and Dorothea Johnson at a Breast Cancer Awareness charity event My mother [Dorothea Johnson] modeled in the 50’s and had her own “charm school” for girls. I got into the business from some photos that my mom sent to the agent Eileen Ford. She sent for me at the age of 18 and I was off to New York City in 1972. Liv was born in 1977.
What I wish for her is continued true love, good health, a family of her own (grandchildren for me), a wonderful career, personal happiness for she and Roy, long life for darling Neal and for her to find all of her dreams. She seems to be on her way. I bless the day she was born.
Livvy, Mommy loves you. xoxo I’m so proud of you and the beautiful person you are inside and out! — Bebe Buell, NYC 2004
Oh, man. There is … some kind of dust in my eye. Very dusty in here. Ridiculous, all this … this dust.
Writing about giallo the other day made me crave some Argento in my life. I find Asia much more beautiful and darkly lost than her father, giallo master Dario, so I turned to her. As always.
“I can’t remember too much about my father until I was eight. Up until that point he used to tell me that all kids smelt of shit and so he couldn’t be bothered with them. I think our halting relationship started in earnest when [her mother] Daria moved me away from him so he became much more important to me.” (Senses of Cinema)
“I never thought it was weird that my father would have me naked and raped in his movies until a friend pointed it out to me. I was just making movies and never even thought about the possible subtext going on. Nor do I have the psychological tools to decode his latent feelings. Perhaps I haven’t wanted to either because it might reveal something I have no desire to discover. Is Dario reliving his relationship with Daria through me? I did think at one time I was only born so my father had an actress in the family he could work with in the future.”
Quotes from Godard illustrated by his wife and muse, my own style inspiration and personal patron saint, the lovely and talented* Anna Karina.
*Not sure if you’d noticed, but I only bill as “lovely and talented” those who take it off. Write that down.
All you need to make a movie is a girl and a gun. (Journal entry, 5/16/91)
“Light me up!” Still of Anna Karina as Natacha van Braun from Alphaville, une étrange aventure de Lemmy Caution / Alphaville (1965) I don’t think you should feel about a movie. You should feel about a woman. You can’t kiss a movie.
Still with Jean-Paul Belmondo from Une femme est une femme / A Woman is a Woman (1961), previously highlighted with “Look, Ma, no gag reflex!” still here back in September.
“In films, we are trained by the American way of moviemaking to think we must understand and ‘get’ everything right away. But this is not possible. When you eat a potato, you don’t understand each atom of the potato!” (Interview with David Sherritt, The Christian Science Monitor, 8/3/94)
Une femme est une femme / A Woman is a Woman (1961) Art attracts us only by what it reveals of our most secret self. (Critique called “What Is Cinema?” for Les Amis du Cinéma , 10/1/52, a work which advanced the auteur theory but also kind of ripped off Bazin, which is weird cause Bazin would’ve read it and was a big influence on Godard but this was done contemporaneously of Bazin himself working on something titled this, about this, so maybe the quote is misattributed? … or maybe there is more to it than I know with my tiny ken of French movie guys, maybe it was a done thing to borrow titles from one another, or perhaps it was a continuation of a dialogue they were already having both in person and via publications, or, finally, it could even have been an “understood” question which anyone might use as the title of a book or article … I am probably over-reading it.)
Hands down my favorite picture of Anna Karina
Beauty is composed of an eternal, invariable element whose quantity is extremely difficult to determine, and a relative element which might be, either by turns or all at once, period, fashion, moral, passion. (“Defense and Illustration of Classical Construction,” Cahiers du Cinéma, 9/15/52)
Cover or liner art for her album, a collaboration with the dread Serge G
The truth is that there is no terror untempered by some great moral idea. (“Strangers on a Train,” Cahiers du Cinéma 3/10/52 — Godard wrote extensively and insightfully in his early career about the movies of Hitchcock, one of my favorite and I think misunderstood directors; I’ll try to share some good nuggets from time to time)
Anna cahorts about topless as Anne in 1968’s The Magus, also starring Anthony Quinn (Zorba the Greek), Michael Caine, and Candace Bergen (Murphy Brown) — no one seems to like this movie but me. That’s okay, because I like it a lot. Photography is truth. The cinema is truth twenty-four times per second. (Le petit soldad / The Little Soldier, 1963.)
With Jean-Paul Belmondo again, this time as Ferdinand and Marianne in the sort of romantic-tragi-comedy-crime-caper Pierrot le fou / Crazy Pete / Pierre Goes Wild (1965).
To be or not to be? That’s not really a question. (unsourced)
Screencap with subtitles from Une femme est une femme / A Woman is a Woman (1961).
Este post es algo tramposo pues no se trata de alsun asunto o tema particular. Solamente encontre esta buena foto y quise compartirlas con ustedes. ¿ A poco la zorrita de la foto tiene un par de piernotas capaz de provocar infartos? Sin embargo, a la que le debemos dar las gracias es a su amiga de rosita (que se ve que tambien esta potable), la cual, segun se ve, fue la que animo a su amiga carnosa a mostrar su fenomenal par de apendices. ¡Gracias por ser tan cooperativa, ojala hubiera mas mujeres como tu… la neta!
Looks obviously more juicy than Kanokon and below is its synopsis of the manga taken from Baka-Updates Manga :
Aki-Sora revolves around Aki Aoi and Sora Aoi, a pair of close siblings who have shared an intimate bond since childhood. During their coming of age, they each come to realize the true depth of the love they feel for each other and consummate that love in secret. They keep their younger sister, Nami, Sora’s twin in the dark about their new relationship. Nami, clueless of what is happening in her household aims to set her brother up with her best friend, Kana Sumiya. Despite these relationships Nami seems to have feelings for someone near to her too but keeps them secret.
Airing next month, this is one good christmas present for all the perverts out there
Every person at some point or other struggles with body love. I have plenty of love for myself. I love my dark brown eyes. I love my long, strong fingernails. I love the little dipper constellation of beauty marks near my left wrist. I love my decolletage and my defined shoulders. I love my petite feet. I love my shaped shin and calf muscles. I love all of the different colours that comprise my body’s canvas. Hey that’s some good love!
Individually, all of these things are great but I sometimes have trouble with the whole package. I am learning that it is less about changing myself physically but rather re-programming my brain. It’s really about changing my thoughts and especially, the words that I use to describe myself – either to myself or others. Looking good naked is really a state of mind. And I really WANT to look good naked. Will I be running a race naked? Ever? Definitely not. That’s just plain crazy. And sounds kind of painful besides. But I am ready to change the image I see when it comes down to just me and my mirror.
It felt like an absence
because I found myself
naked and in darkness
the wood on which I sat
the timid air
the swollen imagination
could I repeat
my lucky survival once again ?
together, wed-locked
to the void that excites
me, to the nothingness
that caresses me, to the silence
that disintegrates me
I would remain
somewhere, somehow
giving names to unknown
aspects of reality
imagining myself naked
or aroused
or isolated
or none of these
just then,
nowhere to be
found.
Only a quick update, sorry guys, but I don’t have much time to write tonight. Just picked up a disc of sexy playboy style nudes and lingerie I did a few months ago. There were around 1000 pics so I had to select only a few, look at some previews:
Tomorrow I’ll update with a cuckolding entry about my experiences per comment request. Hope you enjoy the pics. Comments?
If you are a parent, not much brings a lift to your step quite like the words “potty training.” Well, “sleeps through the night” is pretty fantastic, but I’m at this stage in my parenthood development, so I’m going with potty training. Besides, all those years of sleep-deprivation did so much damage to my memory, I can barely remember those god-awful times. (My husband, BTW, has no recollection of such things as he slept through our youngest child’s sleep peccadilloes. Go figure.) Anyhoo, I have been chronicling some high and low points in our family’s recent conversion from the land of “pull-up” to “underwear” and now I have this chapter to add to my little sad saga.
Who knew I would ever admit to missing the days of diapers? Actually, I don’t miss the diapers per se, but I do miss the inaccessibility that diapers create. At least there was that distinct “rrrriiiipppp” sound when he took his diaper off.
Our little cowboy keeps us laughing!
The other day I head down to the basement to take my youngest a drink. (He is very adept at yelling his every whim to me. It seems his siblings are master teachers when it comes to that.) This wasn’t some sneak down the stairs and see how high I can make him jump kind of moments. I simply walked down the stairs with his juice that he had just asked for. And what do I find? A naked little boy sitting on my couch.
Well, to be fair, he still had his shirt on. I pretty much chalked it up to yet another clothing malfunction of his and just dressed him and got on with life. (This is a kid whose every article of clothing bugs him – tags, seams, you name it. We spend an inordinate amount of time trying to get that kiddo dressed and out the door every day.)
A week later I find him under the Foosball table similarly dressed. And then yesterday, while I was happily typing on the computer 18 inches away from him, he stripped down again.
It was one of those “hmm, it’s been pretty quiet” instances and so I turned around and had to have one of those parenting moments. You know the ones where you have to struggle with not laughing out loud and then cycle through all the child psychology courses you’ve ever taken to decide what is actually the appropriate approach.
Here is my adorable 3 year old son, sitting in an office chair with nothing but a Spiderman t-shirt on, carefully inspecting his scrotum. It was like watching the chimpanzees at grooming time.
My reaction? ”Honey, remember how you’re not supposed to sit around without your pants on? Remember about germs and how you are leaving germs on the chair when you don’t have your underwear on?”
“Oh yeah. We want to keep our buggy germs all to ourselfs. Right, Mama?”
Who knew I’d ever be thankful that the kids all got Swine Flu?
we just went on and on. and the fact that we come in a package, finest Chinese Babe with the finest Indian Chick is just toooooo much for someone of the guys. They expect two Chinese and here they get the entire flavour of the Exotic & Erotic East… we could make out the moment they saw us and we also decided to have a night to remember… we are just back to freshen up… always when u are working like this you need sometime on ur own and especially when u travel only in fancy car and fuck rich fucks from across the globe… we need sometime on our own, we are naked most of the time to everyone and we cunt think but when we cum back home and both of us sit together and discuss the hapening and talk and plan our next steps it always helps us…
[It's pretty obvious that the average CollegeCandy reader has some very strong opinions. Opinions that she likes to share with everyone on the site. We love a strong woman, so we thought we'd give her a real forum to discuss her thoughts, feelings, and perspectives. Every Friday I'll be featuring a hot topic (like inter-cultural dating!) and leaving it up to you, the readers, to duke it out. So, read it and get your debate on in the comments section below!]
With Halloween on the way, thing are getting sexed up, so it only seems right that we get down to discussing the bare minimum of sexy coverings – lingerie.
On one side, practically every woman I know owns at least a couple of sets of racy underpinnings, and there’s a good reason for it. Completely aside from the obvious “look sexy for sex” aspect of lingerie (let’s face it, if clothes are coming off, guys care less about the undies than what’s under them) there’s a certain mental boost that comes from wearing pretty things – even if no one else gets to see them. Like putting on a great set of heels, the right underwear can change your mood, maybe even make you want to be ballsier/flirtier/whateverer and pump up your game. And in turn, that feeling can lead to all sorts of good things, including sex.
Another bonus on the lingerie side is that brands like Victoria’s Secret and websites like figleaves have brought sexy (and wearable) lingerie into reasonable prices, so now we can all afford to have a little more “badda-bing” in our lives. And yeah, the average guy probably couldn’t tell La Perla from Fruit of the Loom, but pretty underthings are still probably going to get his heart pounding better than the rose-printed cotton ones your grandma bought you in high school. When you look sexy, you feel sexy, and do any of us really wake up in the morning and say “I just wish I weren’t so damn sexy!” (well, maybe on a good day).
But, there are a lot of downsides to lingerie too. There’s still a pretty big disconnect between the sexy stuff and stuff you can really wear – with all the bumps and lacy bits, it almost inevitably shows under your clothes – not to mention all of the itchy-itchy, pokey-pokey. And, again like shoes, despite the meager amount of fabric involved, the really good stuff is nigh unreachable for those of us on a student budget. More than all of that though, are the implications from lingerie. For the sake of time, I’m going to ignore the “lingerie is sexist” part of the argument; it’s pretty easy to figure out and has been made other places. To me, the biggest problem comes from the lingerie industry itself – an industry that in many ways is more “size-ist” than any other segment of fashion.
I have long heard my chesty friends lament about how there just aren’t pretty bras made in their sizes, or how those that are don’t give them what they need in the support and comfort category. Meanwhile, those of us whose cups do not runneth over are faced with an overwhelming quantity of push-ups and cup additions that practically scream “you’re boobs aren’t big enough!” And all of the really high end stuff? Most of it seems to be made for girls who have so little body fat, they could practically go bra-less anyway.
What do you say? Is lingerie just the little ego boost you need? Or will you be sticking to the flesh toned undies that keep you in place and in comfort?
October 14, 2009 YOKOHAMA — Ten advertising club members of Keio University have been reported to prosecutors after filming themselves running around naked at a railway station here.
Police reported the 18- and 19-year-old first-year students — nine boys and a girl — to the Yokohama District Public Prosecutors Office on Tuesday on suspicion of public indecency.
Police accuse the students of behaving indecently at Hiyoshi Station on the Tokyu Toyoko Line near the university’s Hiyoshi campus at around 4:15 a.m. on Sept. 20. The male students were reportedly shouting and running around naked in a station passage, while the girl was videotaping them.
The 10 have reportedly admitted to the charges, saying: “We wanted to create fun memories at the end of our freshman summer.”
The station was still closed when the incident occurred, but the students were able to access the passage freely. Police received an emergency call from a passer-by, saying that naked men were making noises there.
The students apparently started filming themselves in their underwear in an attempt to take funny footage; however, their antics escalated, investigators said.
“We are deeply sorry for what have happened. We will provide guidance to the students,” a university official said.
Getting kinky without knowing what’s next…
Imagine, we never met us before, All you know from are the information on my profile and some pics of mine and that’s it. I’ll send you a message with my home address, the exact date and time and I just tell you to follow the rules, you’ll receive.
You arrive at my home and find a note at the entrance to undress as well as put on the leather collar which is on the table. Then I order you to crawl up the stairs on your knees where you’ll find another note with a blindfold, which tells you to put it on and to be in silence till you are asked to speak. Now you are vulnerable, blinded, and naked and in a house you don’t know, not knowing what’s going to happened next and you do not even know if you are alone… You feel terribly exposed and beyond shy. I take you by the arm and lead you to a wicker armchair. Your arms are pulled over your head and behind the chair, wrists affixed to the back of the char. “Now you are mine and I can do with you whatever I want.” I tie back your legs as well, back to the wicker. You sit, helplessly bound and available for pleasuring. I com to you, stroke your face, reassure you, you are lost. Then you feel a gentle licking of your sex, intense pleasure growing more unbearable with each soft stroke, but I am not touching you the way you need it. I am getting hard and I stop again. You lay still as lightly sucking and smoothly sliding lips move over you, teasing your perfectly. Tongue working you directly to orgasm. You cannot bear it. Still, you may be silent. You think. You have to be silent, it is the order. If not, I would also punish you… You are coming and opening your mouth, screaming silently…
Aroused?? If you wanna find out about the rest I am going to do with you, join me here. I am mean to stop at the most interesting part? Trust me, you won’t regret it the find out the rest face to face…
Scot Lafavor 'Versus' Original 24 x 18 Inches $1,500
Here are some really well done pieces from the upcoming Andeken Gallery show by artist Scot Lefavor. The above painting is called ‘Versus’, it is acrylic, spray paint and enamel on a 24 x 18 inch panel for $1,500. (just found these paintings on Scot’s site for $800 each including ‘Versus’. The painting below is called ‘Modern Day Role Models For Your Teenage Daughters’ it too is acrylic, spray paint and enamel on a 24 x 18 inch panel for $800. There are some more really nice pieces on his site! I am not sure who is who but the reference is to Lindsay’s, Britney’s and or Paris’ recent clothing malfunctions. HAHA funny shit indeed. I think Brit is on the left and Lilo is on the right?! If it even matters.
Check it out HERE
Scot Lefavor 'Modern Day Role Models' Original 24 x 18 Inches $800
Ashley Greene just gets hotter and hotter every time that I see pictures of her. How this is possible I don’t know, but it happens. I guess she is turning into that flavor of the week and thanks to the fact that she is in the Twilight saga she will be around for a couple years. There are what, four or five of those books? That gives us another 3 or 4 years of her being on our computer screens. That might seem like a lot but it really isn’t, so you should take the time and enjoy the days like today when she is smoking hot and no one is better then her. These photos are from Mens Fitness.
Tara Reid has abandoned her inhibitions and agreed to lose her clothes for Playboy magazine. Although the actress has claimed over the years that she’s not satisfied with how she looks, it seems she get rid of the complex and made a pictorial for the famous magazine.
According to sources, Tara made the shooting a few days ago on a property in Santa Monica, and the hot images will appear soon.
Over time the actress did her best to look good. In 2004 she suffered a liposuction operation, but was not satisfied with the result, declaring himself appalled by her own body.
If then she excluded a possible appearance in Playboy, now Tara decided to show everyone with what has Mother Nature endowed her.
This week I’ve been a naughty girl. I spent way too much time partying with friends and not enough time studying. School just bores me! This week I went to a club, parties, 2 hockey games, the beach. and had a great time with friends.
I’m hoping to be more productive this week. I want to get all of my homework and studying done ahead of time so that I can focus on making more content and promoting myself more. I also quit my craptacular part-time job, so I’ll be around here a lot more often.
I’m contemplating moving again. A family member needs help with rent and utilities and wants to rent a room out to me. We’ll see though, I’m getting a free education where I am currently but am paying a shitload in rent.
Hello everyone! I apologize for being missing in action. Somehow I caught the H1N1 (swine flu) virus! Luckily, I went to the hospital the moment I felt sick. I’m quitting my part-time job because I felt like shit and was literally crying, and my boss would not send me home until my shift was over (even though there were more than enough girls who could handle the place). It all started with a sore throat, then came the stuffy nose, headache, body aches, weakness, chest pain, clogged ears, loss of appetite, and fever. I sat in the “emergency” room for 2 hours, was given a room, and then wasn’t seen for another hour. The H1N1 test was horrible! The nurse stuck this horrible, long cottom swab up my nose (which hurt because my nose was stuffed and irritated). It hurt and made me sneeze, cough, and tear up quite bad. Then I was given Vicodin, some prescriptions, and a note for missing school and was taken home.
This week has been filled with doing homework, working, and catching up with friends. I still have no idea what I want to be for Halloween! Any ideas? Please let me know. I think I’m going to be a sexy cop or sex kitten. I’m going up north for Halloween weekend to party, it should be a blast!
I’m going to dedicating a lot of time getting this finished and adding content. I have so many ideas!
Tattoos. They used to be considered the sign of “trouble”. Not too long ago, anyone that had a tattoo was either a sailor or a criminal. In Japan, tattoos are strongly associated with the yakuza, particularly full body tattoos done the traditional Japanese way (Tebori). In the United States many prisoners and criminal gangs use distinctive tattoos to indicate facts about their criminal behavior, prison sentences, and organizational affiliation. A tear tattoo, for example, can be symbolic of murder, with each tear representing the death of a friend. At the same time, members of the U.S. military have an equally well established and longstanding history of tattooing to indicate military units, battles, kills, etc., an association which remains widespread among older Americans.
While some of these stereotypes are still around, the people you would most unlikely suspect to have a tattoo is probably the one with them nowadays. It’s not only rock stars, gang members, criminals or military persons that have tattoos. Teachers, police officers, librarians, soccer moms, grandma’s and grandpa’s, even some preachers are sporting ink on them somewhere! In the last 20 years drastic change has been noticed. Nearly 50% of all tattoos are done on women.
Tattooed women are carving a niche as modern-day sex symbols. Kat Von D is not only gorgeous, but also an exceptional artist. There are many “A List” female celebs that are also sporting tats these days as well. Angelina Jolie, Megan Fox, Drew Barrymore, Victoria Beckham just to name a few who have ink.
What I want to focus on is the woman who has INK. Not the little star on her ankle or the butterfly on her sholder and a “tramp stamp”. I’m talking about some major ink. A full sleeve! A full back! You know. Someone who spent a little money or at least went through the uncomfortableness to have ink and they are proud to show it.
To me, it is sexy for a woman to have tattoos. I’m not talking do-it-yourself “jailhouse” tattoos. Some ink is a good start and everything needs a begining. And I am definately NOT talking about the few women that have covered thier entire body with ink. Somewhere in between, there is a spot that screams E R O T I C! Is it just me??
I spent some time looking for some really good pics of women with tattoos and found that unless I wanted to subscribe to a site like “Suicide Girls”, there weren’t many to be seen. To be honest, I don’t think a site like SG has what I am looking for. While they do have some nice tattoos and some nice females, it just wasn’t what I was looking for. Nothing against SG. I wish you all the best in your work. I was barely able to find tattooed porn stars too. There are plenty that have tattoos but again, not like I was looking for. Janine Lindemulder or Adrenalynn were the 2 that I KNEW had what I wanted to showcase in this media.
Not only is Adrenalynn a beauty who is inked, she is also an artist that does tattoos!!! Chek the links section on the right under Adrenalynn INKorperated for her shops site.
If you take a look below, you will see some of what I am referring to. It’s hotness! What is is that attracts me to these women? I don’t know! I think it’s beautiful. It’s not that they are showing off thier bodies. Even if they weren’t, I would still be attracted to them. It isn’t because they are in the “industry” and have sex on film. I think that a woman like this portrays self confidence! They aren’t afraid of expression! They are just HOT!
Maybe it goes back to my Jessica story?? Like the tattooed women are premiscuous and that’s what the draw is?? I don’t know. I don’t care.
So here is the question / challenge. For any females, show me your INK! Not the little butterfly on your big toe. Send me INKed bodies. It’s not for any perv thing. I’m not gonna sit there and masterbate to them or anything. If they are what I am looking for, there could be a “Tattooed Women Part 2″ post in the works.
Guys, tell me what you think. Do you llike a tatt’ed woman? If so, why? If not, why not?
Until tomorrow: As promised…… it’s time to take a look at some tattooed women.
And of course, it wouldn’t be complete without the queen herself….
In an unusually honest and disgustingly accurate the House Republican Leader said
"Our Goal Is To Bring Down Approval Numbers For The Democrats."
No real surprises there eh! The upper etalon of the once respectable Republican party absolutely no regard left for this wonderful country. They don’t even put on the pretense of acting in the best interest of the nation. Their ONLY interest is feeding their hatred, bigotry and greed.
Sometimes, when he just waited within the careless questions of his heart he couldn’t really hear himself. He wasn’t here. No being. Sometimes, when he wanted to talk to somebody, just expose himself in it utter most sensitivity, like a dead rose sinking in the flesh. The large metal clock TICKED, within the brass gold coated ring around its face. The train station was dead, despair was a constant character falling in love with his own hands, looking deadly and silently into them. He wandered past the metal enclosures of hotdog stands. The morning was never to come. He knew this cause he didn’t no one about it. He was so sure of his morning, but was it the morning of other people. Yet he hung around. His hoofs plastered and concealed into the ground with nowhere to go — but here and there. The favor was his coat, and it wasn’t about him naked and exposed in skin. More in the chastise of a strange convulsion.
The nuclear birds were singing black metal screeches that violated the tinge of humanity. There was a mystifying warning of a sort of decadent exposure of the nihilistic nature of the universe. It will, would have or should have sucked it all into a careless emptiness. The wisdom was shaken in him. Often contradicting himself. Nothing was new to him. All new appeared dead. And the dead even more so. Why is there still lust in a broken heart he thought. Staring lost into the magnificent concrete tiles of the train station. White and creamy tiles, seeping into its concrete base, where memories were never to come out again.
Why was there lust, and a dire craving for a crude sort of beastly passion that confided in him. Within the cage he himself was trapped in and battling his subtle consciousness. The tyranny of truth he thought, as he lifted his head up to the white lights, that glared onto him in an unbearable extent. Was the source of both condescending pillars of humanity. Exceeding that, life and all its equivalents in an unparalleled harshness. The ferns would feed you and yet prick you with its poison. And we shouldn’t pay any heed to this tyrannical exposure of the most blatant truth.
So there he was in the feathery texture of his wool peacoat seizing the opportunity of thought. And as he walked, disecting the universe in buddhist tradition, but with a Nietzsche facelessness. And all elements kept escaping him, transcending into further extortion of the sane, merging into either darkness or light. And asking more favors to rediscover what could possibly not, nor even ever will be.
Then he saw him. There he was, standing with a fine grey felt hat on his head, a polished alligator skinned suitcase in his right hand. And stark naked beyond the impenetrable.
“Men are so willing to respect anything that bores them.” ~ Marilyn Monroe
She is all there.
She has always been there….
She is as real as a cast iron pot.
Let’s face it, I have been momentary.
A luxury. A bright red sloop in the harbor.
My hair rising like smoke from the car window.
Littleneck clams out of season.
She is more than that.
This is not an experiment.
She sees to oars and oarlocks for the dinghy….
As for me, I am a watercolor.
I wash off.
- excerpts from Anne Sexton’s “For My Lover, Returning to His Wife”
Nude Skydive: Topless Women Plummeting Faster Than the Economy!
Nude Skydive is a very funny 2 1/2-min. commercial spot directed by Peter Harton for a Danish discount retail company. The topless women are plummeting faster than the prices at Danish web discount retailer Fleggaard in this humorously racy web film! While topless skydiving certainly sounds like interesting enough, I’ve actually posted this because I just love it when a golf or tennis match gets unexpectedly interrupted!
done
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Nude Skydive: Topless Women Plummeting Faster Than the Economy!
Maintenant que je bouquine pas mal, je peux enfin faire mon hardcore à anticiper les sorties plusieurs mois à l’avance. Par exemple, le dernier roman de Nick Hornby, je l’ai pré-commandé, reçu et lu en trois jours. L’auteur d’High Fidelity a passé la cinquantaine et se serra fait attendre trois ans avant de sortir un nouveau livre. Un retour aux sources avec des personnages hantés par leurs obsessions culturelles et leurs problèmes sexuello-amoureux. Après avoir été un poil déçu sur Slam, son précédent opus, j’espérais retrouver l’auteur qui m’avait scotché la tronche, celui auquel on m’a parfois comparé à la lecture de mes propres textes (« Y’a un peu de Hornby dans ce que t’écris, j’aime beaucoup »). Fuck, Nick, me déçoit pas sur ce coup là ! Dans tous les cas, la couverture est suffisamment jolie pour que je me refuse à ranger le livre plusieurs jours après la lecture. Puis le titre, la classe quand même.
Duncan est un quadra fan de Tucker Crowe, une star du rock qui a disparu du milieu musical depuis près de vingt ans sans explications. Depuis quinze ans, Duncan vit avec sa petite copine Annie, qui réalise de plus en plus que leur relation ne va nulle part. Elle voudrait que Duncan se préoccupe plus d’elle, qu’il lui fasse un enfant. Au lieu de ça il passe son temps à errer sur des forums musicaux pour disserter à l’infini sur son idole. Lorsque Crowe sort Juliet, Naked une version acoustique de son meilleur album Juliet, Annie est la première à l’écouter. Elle déteste l’album, Duncan l’adore. Annie réalise alors qu’à force de vivre avec Duncan, elle en a fini par être anesthésiée, ne plus avoir d’avis sur rien, laisser le temps passer. La critique virulente de Juliet, Naked, qu’elle rédige sur Internet fera office de déclaration de rupture. Ce qu’elle n’aurait pas pu prévoir, c’est que son texte poussera Crowe à sortir de son silence et nouer un début de relation avec elle.
Si d’après le synopsis vous pensez que ce roman est l’histoire d’Annie, vous avez perdu. Enfin, non, c’est bien l’histoire d’Annie. Le problème c’est qu’Hornby alterne les points de vue narratifs et passe trop de temps sur Duncan et Crowe, qui ne sont qu’accessoires. Si Juliet, Naked a bien est problème, c’est que trop de pages sont dévolus à des scènes ou des personnages qui n’en mériteraient pas tant. Je me suis retrouvé face à des phases de textes pénibles car à côté de la plaque, ou en tout cas à côté de ce qui m’aura au final beaucoup plus dans le livre. Hornby parle de musique comme personne et construit une réflexion sur la manière dont la culture peut cimenter un couple et lier les individus. Des pistes de réflexion très intéressantes, émaillées de passages vraiment bien sentis, touchants ou drôles. Autant j’avais trouvé Slam cohérent mais plat, autant je trouve Juliet, Naked inégal mais avec de bons morceaux parasités par des éléments plus creux.
En revenant à ses obsessions sur la musique et le couple, Nick Hornby se rapproche d’High Fidelity, dans lequel il avait malheureusement déjà tout dit. Juliet, Naked, sans être raté est trop hétérogène à mon goût pour s’élever au rang des meilleurs romans de l’auteur. Je n’ai plus qu’reprendre mon mal en patience. A dans trois ans !
Demain on parlera de gens qui sont morts.
STEAL THAT PITCH STAGE !!!
Le truc fun, c’est que j’avais bousculé tout le pitch d’un de mes futurs projets (Perfect Ten) parce que je trouvais l’intrigue de Juliet, Naked trop similaire. Il s’avère que non, mais que mon personnage féminin tente la même chose que le perso féminin d’Hornby. Funny.
OK, here’s the thing naked jogger man, wearing running shoes, sunglasses and a pouch around the waist is still pretty much classified as being starkers (any way you look at it!!!!). When Swiss police in Thugau stopped a 26 year old nude jogger and questioned him about his lack of attire he told them he was doing it “to allow his skin to absorb more oxygen”. Hmm, yeah in the good old days that might have seemed a logical explanation but police are a lot more smarter now, the “swinger” was given an indecent exposure warning and told to cover it up. Absorb that through your skin Mr!
Alex Reid, professional wrestler, has confront and defeated on Saturday Jackie Mason, called “Stone”. At the gala the model found it necessary to change clothes before the public, after the pronunciation of the victory.
When the audience began to shout the name Mason, Jordan felt obliged to respond with a healthy “F *** you”, said the witnesses.
Also, Jordan could not refrain to present all an engagement ring, although strongly denied that he will marry Alex Reid
The beautiful actress has some hot scenes in the play “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” which is currently playing at the Theater Royal Haymarket in London.
Anna appears fully naked in front of the audience, reading the newspaper and taking breakfast while talking to one of her scene partners.
The opening of the play will take place on September 29th – and we can guess from now it will be a success.
The ‘Fight For This Love’ singer thinks naked photo shoots are tacky, and can’t understand why so many pop stars choose to strip off for magazines.
She said: “There’s nothing tasteful about some fruit covering your bits! Sometimes a beautiful dress is much more sexy than underwear. Have some class.”
Cheryl, 25, has also revealed she isn’t anti-cosmetic surgery, but would probably not choose to go under the knife herself as she likes her imperfections.
The Girls Aloud star – who is married to England soccer player Ashley Cole – explained: “I’ve got nothing against it. If someone hasn’t got boobs and having them done is going to make them a happier, more confident person, then go for it.
“I wouldn’t deny it if I had plastic surgery. I wouldn’t just come out with bog boobs and say: ‘No, I haven’t had an operation!’ I think imperfections are sexy anyway, I honestly do. If everyone looked perfect with a perfect face and perfect boobs, it wouldn’t be sexy as it’s not real life.”
The rented place that I’m staying at now has a weird security guard. I saw him loitering outside my apartment a few days back and he left in a haste when he saw me returning back home.
Suddenly, on this lazy Sunday afternoon that I’m letting my thoughts run wild, I’m getting worried.
What if he has an extra set of keys and he comes into my apartment when I’m outta house to fix a hidden camera?
That will be shit for me because most of the times that I’m in my house, I’m totally naked. That’s one additional perk for me ever since shifting out.
I walk around the house naked.
I cook while being naked.
I clean up the room while being naked.
I sleep naked.
And yes yes, I blog and reply to emails while being naked too.
It’s really comfortable to be in just my own skin, but I frowned at the kind of images that this dubious security guard will be receiving on his end. Sigh. Exactly how safe am I? Can I go on to practise this habit? Consequences? Is it worth it?
SIGH.
WTF.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Truth betold, I’m getting wet at this thought too.
Neandertal, who looked very human but was burly and stocky, developed a far less sophisticated culture than Cro-Magnon, the first modern humans in Europe, who emerged about 40,000 years ago. Cro-Magnon apparently existed alongside Neandertal, but no one knows whether they made contact or not, either culturally or sexually. After a 200,000-year run, Neandertal vanished.
No one can say for sure what distinguished Neandertals from modern humans, but Computational Physics and Engineering Division researcher Jerry Dobson has a theory. In an article soon to be published in the Geographical Review, he suggests that Neandertals may have been iodine deficient. A single genetic difference in the thyroid gland, which controls iodine extraction from food, could account for many other differences in bone structure and body shape.
The bones of Neandertal (the spelling scholars prefer over Neanderthal) were first unearthed in Germany but since have been found in inland areas throughout Europe and Western Asia. They reveal numerous similarities to modern humans who suffer from iodine deficiency disorder-in its most severe form, cretinism.
“Distinctive Neandertal traits-overall body proportions, heavy brows and muscles, dental development and wear and propensities for degenerative joint diseases-are identical to those of modern humans suffering from cretinism,” Dobson says. “Whether it was biological-a genetically restricted ability to process iodine-or pathological-a dietary deficiency-I can’t say.
“Neandertals lived in areas away from the coast that are iodine deficient even today. If you and I took up residence in those same sites without a supplemental source of iodine, we’d suffer from iodine deficiency. Our children would suffer even more, and our grandchildren would be physically deformed and mentally retarded, as many Alpine Europeans were in the late 1800s. I suspect Neandertals were even more susceptible than we are.”
Some 30 percent of the world’s current population is at risk from iodine deficiency disorder, and 750 million suffer from goiter, which is caused by lack of iodine in the diet.
“I’ve concluded that a single factor, iodine, can account for most differences between modern humans and Neandertal, and the mechanism of change may have been a single genetic modification that improved the efficiency of modern thyroid glands to extract iodine,” he says.
So how did Dobson, a geographer who specializes in geographic information systems, get onto Neandertal’s case?
“I started with geographic questions about sea-level rises associated with global warming. Typical projections run from a few centimeters to a meter or more, but geologists have firmly established that sea level has risen 125 meters since the last ice age,” Dobson says.
“I asked myself: If the ice age coast of 18,000 years ago is missing, what does that imply about the archaeological record? Is what archaeologists find on dry land today identical to what existed in coastal lowlands, now tens of meters beneath the sea? Is there, perhaps, some factor that would cause a systematic difference between coastal and interior populations?
“It was my brother, Jeff, who suggested iodine as a distinguishing factor between coastal and inland populations. Iodine comes almost entirely from three sources-saltwater fish, shellfish and seaweed-all coastal. People who didn’t know to take iodine with them when they moved inland would suffer goiter and cretinism. Jeff also learned that, even today, the most iodine-poor regions on earth are those that are mountainous or formerly glaciated. That, in turn, led me to ask, ‘Neandertals lived in mountainous, glaciated Europe. How did they get iodine?’ I compared the bones of Neandertals to the bones of modern-day cretins and found they matched.
“Most investigation of the ice ages focuses on glaciers. But what about tropical lowlands? During the ice ages, those would have been the most hospitable habitats on earth. As the glaciers retreated, sea level rose, inundating those habitats and forcing people inland. That would create tremendous population pressure and force coastal people to compete for resources. Those who moved inland would have suffered a terrible fate without sufficient iodine. Most Neandertal fossils correspond with periods when sea level was high, so they may have been refugees from that coastal competition.”
Much of the archaeological evidence of early humans probably lies undersea. Even today, Dobson points out, most people live near the sea, which provides ample iodine in the diet. If Neandertal did suffer an iodine deficiency, either through a dietary dearth or physiological inability to extract it, it would have spread through generations because iodine is very important to fetal development. Babies, although apparently normal at birth, soon develop the large head and bones, curved spine, mental and physical retardation, achy joints and other infirmities we know as cretinism.
Cro-Magnon, living in those same sites, may have been equipped with a more efficient thyroid gland and undoubtedly obtained iodine from some additional source, perhaps by trading with the iodine-rich coast. They were able to outcompete Neandertal and prosper, but they, too, suffered from cretinism.
Their sites contain carved squat “Venus” figurines that look precisely like mature women cretins. They apparently worshiped that particular form, Dobson says, but it’s impossible to say whether they knew those figurines looked like Neandertals.
In his November 1998 column in GeoWorld magazine, Dobson called for better data on iodine’s global distribution that could be achieved by geographic information system techniques.
The iodine theory evolved out of an Laboratory Directed R&D-funded project to explore the coastal-change aspects of global warming since the ice ages. The Geographical Review article has attracted a number of media requests.
Amber Rose is an American model, best known for her relationship with Kanye West. She posed naked in the latest issue of Complex magazine.
Amber was born on October 21, 1982 and is a known model in the U.S., former exotic dancer and lover of the nonconformist Kanye West.
She posed naked for Louis Vuitton campaign and his also famous for the sexy outfits she wears, but also for her hair.
Rose claims she’s bisexual, but not a group sex adept.
A couple who attracted the attention of police by having sex at a petrol station in a Northern Territory town have been arrested.
Police were called to the service station in Adelaide River, 110 kilometres south of Darwin, to move the couple on last night. But they soon discovered the car had been stolen from Jabiru earlier in the day.
Watch Commander Bob Harrison says police also found the driver was heavily intoxicated. “We received a call that two persons were having sexual intercourse in the passenger seat of a vehicle at the petrol bowser,” he said.
“We attended and we asked them to stop what they were doing and they didn’t seem to want to, but they finally did. They were intoxicated and we arrested the driver for breath analysis and they gave a reading of 0.179 per cent.”
So a book popped out on the shelf at the used bookstore the other day, “The Loving Dominant” by John and Libby Warren. Of course I bought it to share with Master and Mistress but I had to preview it myself to see if it was appropriate. There is a chapter written by Libby, the author’s wife and submissive that is truly beautiful. Here’s an excerpt:
My earliest fantasies, and they were when I was very young, always involved being somehow chosen and desired, I will borrow here from the image of the goddess who is a composite of virgin, maiden and crone to describe how these forces, desire, and need coalesce within me and reach expression through submission. The part of me that is virgin and wants to always be able to approach new things in an open-minded and curious way without giving a thought to my own security…The part of me that is maiden seeks to explore passion and creativity…The crone is the wisdom part of me that is self-assured enough to look at my dark desires.
Beautiful! About halfway through the book there is a chapter entitled “Making a scene sing.” The author proceeds to describe examples of some highly elaborate “scenes” involving things such as a maiden being raped by pirates or witch being burned at the stake. I understand everyone has their own tastes but it just seems really cheesy to me. Why isn’t it enough for me to be me and Him to be Him? It is enough, more than enough for me to be stripped to my core, to be Cassie, brought fully into my body and freed of all thoughts but for his pleasure. Surely we both play a role…we are living out a fantasy of sorts. But in a way I believe we are stripped of all the bullshit and games when we play, free to live out our darkest desires, more true to ourselves than we can be in the light of day.
I will say the book has some very interesting ideas, including a complete description of how to do waxing (dripping or splashing hot candle wax on the submissive) and fire on skin which consists of putting alcohol (he suggests 70% isporopyl from the drugstore) on the submissive and setting it aflame for a few seconds. Of course, ice cubes should be kept on hand for both these activities and extreme care used.
Susan Sontag, in her famous book ‘On Photography’, describes three forms of acquisition of a photograph, of which I want to discuss two here (the third perhaps another time):
…a photograph is not only like its subject, a homage to the subject. It is a part of, an extension of that subject; and a potent means of acquiring it, of gaining control over it.
Photography is acquisition in several forms. In its simplest form, we have in a photograph surrogate possession of a cherished person or thing, a possession which gives photographs some of the character of unique objects. Through photographs we also have a consumer’s relation to events, both to events which are part of our experience and to those which are not – a distinction between types of experience that such habit-forming consumership blurs. (Penguin edition, 1971, 1974, 1977, pp155-6)
This makes for quite some responsibility. Of course, the idea that by taking a photograph of someone a little something of them is taken is one that many people are familiar with (Sontag discusses this on p158ff). Indeed, my understanding is that in (parts of?) medieval Europe, the eyes were thought to function almost as projectors – they sent out an image for the other person to see. So by looking, you were literally taking something of the person or object you were looking at.
Sontag points to this in a different way. Of course, a photograph can communicate emotion. These two images of Stephanie clearly communicate something about her – and however one evaluates the technical aspects of the photographs themselves, it is clear that she is communicating different emotions in each of these images. We have here two different elements of the same model, or in Sontag’s terms: two different ’surrogate possession[s] of a cherished person or thing, … possession[s] which gives photographs some of the character of unique objects’. In looking at her, we take something unique and intimate of or from Stephanie, something that she has willingly shared with me, her photographer. Her willingness to share that element of herself obviously demands respect and responsibility from me, but also from you, the viewer – whether you like the images or not, your viewing of them involves you partaking of Stephanie’s willingness to (metaphorically) ‘undress’ herself to some extent, to open part of herself up to be viewed (or consumed, as Sontag might say). And so your ’surrogate possession of … [this] cherished person’ demands responsible viewing. Sometimes we say that someone – even if they are wearing clothes – becomes ‘naked’ for the camera, and being offered nakedness is something to be honoured. Perhaps the best example of this is Richard Avedon’s famous portrait of Marilyn Monroe: she is more vulnerable, more undressed – and more beautiful! – in this photograph than in any nude centrefold she ever did (it goes – almost – without saying that nudity doesn’t necessarily represent vulnerability: earlier this summer Avedon’s ‘Nastassia Kinski and the Serpent’ sold at auction – I think she communicates phenomenal serenity, control, and even power in this photograph, despite being completely naked… of course, placing a serpent on a naked woman is far from unproblematic – but I’ll not go into that now!).
Whilst the idea of taking ownership is not necessarily widely acknowledged, I think some sense of responsibility towards photographic subjects often is. But Sontag picks up on more than this: ‘Through photographs we also have a consumer’s relation to events, both to events which are part of our experience and to those which are not – a distinction between types of experience that such habit-forming consumership blurs.’ Interestingly, I think this applies as much to the making of photographs as to the photographs themselves. After all, every photographer is also a viewer – a consumer – of other people’s photographs. I read today that in western societies urban dwellers see approximately 3,000 (yes, three thousand) brand images or advertisements each day – we cannot but be influenced by other photographs! I took this particular photograph on Mull, on a jetty. Seeing these crates piled high on the jetty reminded me of other photographs (and even Rothko paintings!) I have seen that play with lines and colours – and that is how I ’saw’ this image before photographing it. Essentially, my visualisation of the photograph I was going to take was in part my own experience of being at that spot at that time – but it was also connected to events that were part of others’ experience and which I had consumed. As Sontag says, there was a link to consumership: the experience of things I had not experienced, if you like.
So if ‘acquisition’ is an integral part of the photographic process, we need to deal with this responsibly. It seems fairly obvious how to do that with photographs of people, as discussed above. But what about the second aspect Sontag mentions? Perhaps I, or even photographers in general, need to be clearer about our debts to the creators of other images. Yes, our photographs are communicating something unique and different in a person or a landscape – after all, this particular moment in time has never been captured on film before and can never be captured again – but our photographs almost always acknowledge the consumerist element of our being as well. In taking a photograph, therefore, we are also dealing (usually subconsciously) with the thousands of images we see every day and that lend themselves to being re-imag(in)ed in a new setting – as happened with my crates at Fionnphort. That is also part of the artistic process.
PS On a more frivolous note, I can’t resist sharing this Lego version of the Nastassia Kinski image… quite brilliant!
How did I end up naked in front of these people? It was like some horrifying nightmare where you’re giving a speech without any clothes on, only this is much worse – I was awake and this was really happening.
Erik, my husband, and I had gotten to know Gunther, Elsa, Stephen, and Tibalt last fall while my stepson, Henry, was enrolled in soccer, and Stephen and Henry were on the same team. Only being in America for two months, their German accents were thick and melodious, and we struggled along with them as Gunther, Elsa and Erik conversed about everything under the sun, and I shyly voiced my opinion here and there.
Our first get together came shortly prior to the end of soccer season; we gathered in their beautiful house that sat upon Lake Sawyer, and dined on a truly wonderful meal Elsa prepared for us. As we drank our strong coffee, she happily answered my million questions of Germany and their life, then brought out a few photo albums to show me the life the temporarily left behind. Breathtaking mountains, fields of flowers, and waterfalls with…naked people in front. Not just naked people, but Elsa, Gunther and baby Stephen naked. Oh my God! I’ve just seen everything! Elsa is a true blonde and it may have been a bit chilly that day.
Elsa sensing my discomfort, she turned to me and said matter of factly, ‘Everybody is naked, it is natural in Europe. But I do not wish to offend you.’ Trying desperately to regain my composure, I sputtered, ‘No, no, it’s fine. We’ve all got the same equipment, I was just caught by surprise,’ and smiled, trying hard not to stare at the photo still on my lap. What else can you say or do in that situation? Think I may have missed that part in etiquette class. Elsa smiled back at me, apparently pleased with my response, which was the truth, and continued to show me the majority of Europe through their eyes. On our way home, I gushed to Erik, ‘I saw them naked! In a photo! I saw everything! Thank God they’ve never seen me naked! Elsa is very athletic and I’m, well, not.”
Erik laughed and said, “You look great, you’re just too hard on yourself. So is she hot?” Typical guy response, but let’s face it, if women were honest, it’d also be a typical girl response.
As time continued on, we saw more and more of them and our friendship naturally deepened, yet I still remained shy. Then, with both of our schedules being as hectic as they are, we weren’t able to meet up for several weeks, until the weekend of the World Cup Finals. It was Germany vs. Spain in a battle for the championship and our friends invited us, as well as another family, over to help cheer the team to victory.
With dinner long past and the temperature still hovering around 90 degrees, Elsa suggested we all cool off in the lake. The other family, Erik, and I exchanged uncomfortable glances as Elsa said, “We have swimming gear for everyone. It will be nice,” then decidedly set out to retrieve said gear. Erik, dressed in dark shorts and t-shirt, opted to just swim in his clothes, reasoning that after a swim, he’ll remain nice and cool under the hot sun. Even though I was wearing my bikini top (a choice I was about to regret), I only had on a pair of white cotton shorts, white collard shirt, and undies. Not exactly suitable ‘swimming gear,’ unless you enjoy showing God and country everything you have to offer.
“Tara, which do you prefer?” Elsa asked me as she held out my last two options – a Speedo bottom that would surely only cover one of my ass cheeks, or a pair of khaki shorts that might fit. Both would expose my vast expanse of cellulite, but I had better coverage with the shorts. Without thought or hesitation, I snagged the shorts and thanked her.
Once changed, together we padded down to the dock and with effortless precision, Elsa dove in and surfaced with a beautiful smile, encouraging each of us to do the same. Her heart and kindness knows no bounds and her enthusiasm for life automatically encourages whoever is in her presence to join in the fun, despite their athletic ability. Looking more like a drunken sailor than an athlete, I ‘dove’ into the water and surfaced, sputtering and clearing my eyes. With a kind, yet sheepish laugh, Elsa swam near me, bringing my wayward bikini top along with her and offered to help me secure it back in place. Feeling little embarrassed, I again thanked her and questioned why I didn’t feel more than just a little embarrassed. I reasoned it was because of Elsa herself and her ability to make any faux paux seem like nothing at all. Pushing my humiliation from my mind, I joined the rest of the group and played in the water, all the while keeping a close eye on my top.
The men swam back to shore and Gunther asked us to stand on one of the floating docks, preparing to dive in while he took our photo. Happily, we all agreed and did as we were asked. For the life of me, though, I couldn’t figure out why Erik was gesturing like a mad man behind Gunther. Clearly he wanted to tell me something, but I had no idea what. I checked my top – all was secure and the girls were nicely hidden. What else could it be? I was wearing shorts and I could feel the cool fabric stick to my thighs, so they hadn’t gone A.W.O.L., as my top had earlier done. Before being able to check anything else, the time to say ‘dive!’ was here and we got our picture taken. Elsa then suggested we go back to the house to enjoy dessert, which was readily accepted by both the kids and adults.
Erik met me on the dock with towel in hand and I beamed at him, feeling sublimely happy from the swim, as well as the loving gesture my husband had made of doting over me. Just barely out of the water and in a movement quicker than Flash Gordon himself, Erik wrapped the towel around my waist and whispered in my ear, ‘Those shorts are see through. We can see everything; thought you should know.’ Suddenly sick to my stomach, my mind raced back to the first night with them and the naked photo. Near tears, I pulled myself together and walked with Erik back to the house and quickly changed. Planning on making a fast exit so I may rehash every moment spent with these people in private, we began to say our goodbyes when Gunther insisted we have dessert first. Rationalizing that we’re all adults, I set to mind putting my, yet another embarrassing moment, behind me for now and to simply enjoy dessert, then get the hell out of there.
Shortly after dessert, the other family left and ‘being raised right,’ I helped Elsa clean up while the men discussed ‘football.’ We walked out onto the deck and there lay my khaki shorts and towel that I had placed there, along with all the others. Picking it up, I decided to say something. “I didn’t realize khaki was see through when it was wet.”
“Mmm, yes it seems it is.” Elsa replied with little acknowledgement. Damn! They had seen everything!
“I feel rather embarrassed.” I said not looking at her.
“Why?” She stopped what she was doing, turning toward me as she asked this.
“I guess because in America, nudity is typically frowned upon and a person is judged not only by their physical appearance, but by their morals as well. Appearing naked in public is seriously frowned upon here.” I said looking her in the eye and with a hint of a smile.
“We’re German. Nudity is a part of life and is accepted. You said we all have the same equipment, you do not believe that now?”
“No, I still believe that, I am just embarrassed; I’m not in great shape like you are.” I said as I shrugged and smiled.
“There is nothing to be embarrassed about; we do not judge, we are your friends and we like you very much for who you are.” And it was with that statement that I let go of all of my failures and flaws and accepted myself for who I am, cellulite and all. After cleaning up the deck, we walked back inside and chatted with the men, me unabashedly speaking my mind, until the weekend became the weekday.
As we began to say our goodbyes for real this time, they both gave us an invitation to come by anytime and use their kayak, fishing poles, and dock as well as anything in their home; it was German for ‘You are family.’
Looking back at the events of that past weekend, I can’t help but shake my head and laugh at the fact that baring all helped me to strut my stuff; cellulite and all.
Ο μούσος (Κρα μου είμαι και μορφωμένος άνθρωπος) του ποιητού ονομάζεται Rafael Leite και σαν έργο του συνωνόματού του Ραφαήλ έχει και γαμώ τα σώματα. Απαιτώ να φύγει το μαγιώ άμεσα. Η τέχνη δεν έχει ανάγκη από σεμνοτυφίες και πισωγυρίσματα. Όλα στη φόρα τώρα. Όλα για την Τέχνη!
¡Bonitas piernas! ¿A que hora abren?
pues no se trata de alsun asunto o tema particular. Solamente encontre esta buena foto y quise compartirlas con ustedes. ¿ A poco la zorrita de la foto tiene un par de piernotas capaz de provocar infartos? Sin embargo, a la que le debemos dar las gracias es a su amiga de rosita (que se ve que tambien esta potable), la cual, segun se ve, fue la que animo a su amiga carnosa a mostrar su fenomenal par de apendices. ¡Gracias por ser tan cooperativa, ojala hubiera mas mujeres como tu… la neta!