Spit or Swallow, and the Monthly Self-Exam

BLUESGUY:

Ladies, would you swallow a weekly teaspoon of medicine if it was a proven breast cancer preventative?  Excellent.  I have great news for you.

Published October 3, 2008 in the Journal of Medical Research, a North Carolina study found that women who perform fellatio and swallow the semen one to two times a week may reduce their risk of breast cancer by up to 40 percent.

The study tracked over 15,000 women aged 25-45 for ten years. 6,246 performed fellatio and swallowed on a regular basis.  9,728 did not.  The swallowers had a breast cancer rate of 1.9 percent.  The spitters breast cancer rate was 10.4 percent.
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When I grow up, I want to be Spank Daddy.

BLUESGUY:

A woman I dated several years ago stopped seeing me because I wasn’t able to meet her needs, sexually. She wanted to be spanked. Though I was willing to try to please her, apparently I suck as a spanker.

Was it technique?  Attitude?  Confidence generated of vast knowledge?  I never knew. Frankly, I didn’t much care.  At least I didn’t until I read about Peter Jones, an English attorney who claims in his book, “True Confessions of a London Spank Daddy,” that beautiful women beg him to spank them.

Whazzis?  Women persuing him just ’cause he’s willing to play butt bongo with them?  Maybe I lost interest too quickly.

Jones offers not only insight into how to get into a woman’s pants, but also into her mind

Most women want to create a scenario based on real life. So they’ll use the fact they’ve been caught speeding as a reason to be punished by the Spank Daddy,” says Jones.  But get this: He also claims his laying on of the hands to be therapeutic.   Jones says women ask him to help them to lose weight, to stop over using their credit cards, or to stop smoking.
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Will Anal Sex Make Me Poop Funny?

BLUESGUY:Here I am, sipping my coffee and checking e-mail. It’s a beautiful Saturday morning. Fortunately, I don’t have anything special planned for today, which gives me time to investigate a question in my in box.

One of the members of the HasAHeadache forum (who shall remain anonymous) has asked if she should be worried about anal sex. I presume this means she should be worried about any possible outcomes, rather than worrying about the lack of opportunity.

So, this morning I’m investigating anal sex.

Uh, more properly, I’ve been reading about anal sex. No true research is likely to be done in this area until they can teach lab rats to perform the act. (And what would motivate the rats? An extra ration of cheese?) Read more »

When Your Only Tool is a Hammer…

BLUESGUY:

Today our topic is sex addiction. But first, this side trip:

It was only nine years ago that civilization as we know it was about to collapse. The then-pending doom was supposedly the result of a flaw in computer programming going back 50 years called Y2K.

As you recall, nothing happened.

That shouldn’t have surprised anyone.  All of the available information was provided by people who, for an additional fee, would help you solve the Y2K problem.

One could (and frankly should) be that skeptical about everything in life. Start by asking how the bearer of news benefits from your acceptance of that news.

Who benefits more than the preacher when you start looking over your shoulder for the Devil? Who benefits more than the stockbroker when you become concerned about growth in your 401(k)? Who benefits more than the politician when you become concerned about the local crime rate?
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My Car is a Woman

BLUESGUY:

There are how many psychologists in the world? Hundreds of thousands? Millions? We’ll probably never know, but there’s one thing for sure: every one claims there is a relationship between cars and sexuality.

Start with the basic idea that an automobile with a long hood jutting out from approximately the driver’s crotch level must be a penis substitute.

One would expect a mechanical penis to be vibrant, and strong, and ever-so-masculine. That could explain why those wimpy hybrids like the Prius aren’t selling in mass quantity. No one wants his own mechanical penis to look flaccid. I’ve heard it said that failure to recognize the car as a phallic symbol is the fundimental reason the Edsel failed in the market place. Instead of evoking a mental picture of the turgid male member, its grille had a much stronger resemblance to a vagina.
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