Tag Archives: hotposts

home made fleshlight

Roll-Your-Own Fleshlight, Lose-Your-Own Dignity (NSFW)

Are you lonely? Sexually frustrated? Has life let you down? Are you at the point where you can see yourself fucking a Pringles can full of cleaning supplies? If so, then here’s a photographic walkthrough for constructing your own disembodied vagina. With just a few minutes of effort and the complete eradication of every last molecule of pride, you too can be humping away at something that looks like a boxer’s left ear wrapped in a condom.

Or you could just buy a Fleshlight, which offers a number of significant advantages over the DIY approach to doing yourself:

  1. No embarrassing questions from the housekeeper about why you’ve named her sponges “Lola” and “Trixie”.
  2. Slightly decreased chance that you’ll experience unwanted erections at work when the janitor walks by.
  3. Jaundice isn’t a good look for genitals.
  4. Psychologically speaking, it’s only a short stroll from screwing a homemade cleanser-cooter in your kitchen to raping Elmo in the toy aisle at Walmart.
  5. Bareback, baby!

Plus, Fleshlights are molded from the cockpits of porn stars:

Tori Black: one of those classic, too-pretty-for-porn girls who go ahead and do porn anyway. It's like if Stephen Hawking said "fuck it" and went to work as a high school physics teacher. Only with more anal.

Jenna Haze demonstrates what it would be like if she had an albino conjoined twin that was made entirely of pussy and asshole. Kinda like my dad.

I adore Teagan Pressley, but I don't care for her tat sleeve. I mean, she's quite lovely and adorable, until that one time you glance down and it looks like you're getting a hand-job from Dave Navarro. No one but Perry Farrell wants that.

In case you didn't get enough of Riley Steele in Piranha 3D, now you can take her Fleshlight down to the lake and pretend you found some bits the fish didn't want. You sick fucker.

(Hat tip to John, who has to make his custom fuck-puppets out of old sofa cushions and a 55 gallon drum.)

Girl with a Pearl Necklace

Pearl Necklace: Jewelry For That Special Someslut

In search of a gift for the upcoming holiday season, but not sure what your special lady (or even specialer dude) really wants? Look no further than Pearl Necklace, designed by Leah Piepgras. Here’s her site’s description:

Pearl Necklace is a seemingly amorphous cast silver shape on a chain that is actually an accurate representation of semen.

Maybe your semen, Leah. Mine looks more like this:

"It's a spooge rainbow, all the way across the sky...!"

The necklace comes in two designs, one of which is certain to match your lover’s taste in viscous pools of freshly squeezed man-extract.

I prefer the second version… it has more character. The first is immature, like a Boy Scout just rubbed one out over your loved one’s clavicle. That means it’s inappropriate for most adult women, unless she’s an algebra teacher in the Florida public school system, in which case, hey, go wild, tiger… you’re gonna need to mow a lotta lawns to pay for one of these!

Head over to Leah’s site and buy one of these puppies for a cool body-temperature $420.

(hat tip: The Secret Diaries of an Extraordinary Girl)


Mayra Leal (Machete’s Naked Girl) & Her New Movie: Playing House


Ah. I’ve been looking forward to this… and I do believe it was worth the wait. We now have a trailer for Playing House, which is (near as I can tell) the first movie to give Mayra Leal top billing. After her turn in Machete, this is what penises worldwide consider Big News. And since her character this time has a name (Blair) and something more substantial to do than stab old men and use her crotch as an iPhone charger, I can even engage the parts of my brain not wholly fixated on sex. (Such as they are.)

The trailer suggests that Playing House is a variation on the Poison Ivy/Pacific Heights/Obsessed genre, except that in this film, we know from the get-go that Blair is completely batshit insane. How do we know?

Because she:

…voluntarily hooks up with him:

So either she’s a crazy person or this movie is actually Mask 2: Rocky Dennis Gets Him Some.1

Yeah, I had that same reaction, lady.

Of course, director Tom Vaughan (who is more successful than me, but has less hair, so I’ll call it even) seems to have gone the traditional route of casting a really attractive, likeable woman (Sarah Prikryl)2 in the role of the Wife Who Totally Knows Something’s Fucked Up Here. Personally, I’d like to see one of these films mix it up by making the long-suffering wife someone so hideous and awful that we counter-intuitively enjoy her suffering, and are genuinely rooting for the conniving, evil-but-pretty usurper. I’m thinking Fatal Attraction-meets-Teaching Mrs. Tingle… get on that, indie filmmakers.

My weird longing for sadistic variety aside, Playing House looks like a fun little movie, and I’m definitely gonna check it out. The site doesn’t say if it’s getting a theatrical release or it’s going straight to DVD/digital, but once I figure that out, I’ll update this post with the relevant info.

In other Mayra news, we have this from the Houston Chronicle:

For seven minutes, Mayra Leal is completely nude in Robert Rodriguez’s new movie, Machete. Not in a sexually explicit, love-crazy way. True to Rodriguez’s quirky shoot-’em-up dramas, Leal plays a nude, hired villain.

“I’m naked with a purpose,” said the 24-year-old Houston native who lives in Austin and works part time as a nightclub hostess.

Now, hold on a bloody second here, people! Since when is “sexually explicit, love-crazy” not a purpose? You name me any action, and “sexually explicit, love-crazy” is probably the most popular purpose for that action. Nudity? Yup. Marriage? Yup. Murder? Yup. Breeding goats? Down here in the south, sure.

For the record, though? It would be fantastic if that were a misprint, and she actually said “naked with a porpoise.” If nothing else, it would make for the greatest DVD deleted scenes ever.

FUN FACT: "Mayra" is Spanish for "Cialis". FUNNER FACT: I barely speak English, let alone Spanish. The only language in which I am fluent? Love. That's right, swoon, bitches! Swoon!


Reading further into the Chronicle piece, I see that Mayra was Bellaire High School’s Cardinal mascot. Sweet Christmas… can you imagine a high school where the chicks are all so ridiculously hot that Mayra is stuck being the mascot? Who was on the cheerleading squad, the cast of Bring It On? Her yearbook must look like a Victoria’s Secret catalog… unlike my yearbook, which looked like the kinda photo lineup the cops would use to identify the perp in a series of trailer park weed-whacker murders.

If our heroine keeps this up, Eva Mendes will become "that chick who looks like Mayra Leal".

Even more amazing is the story of how her Machete scene came to be. Robert Rodriguez has her come in for an audition, gets her all full-frontal for him, and then sends her home with instructions to lose 10 pounds and try again. How the hell does that work? I’m pretty sure that telling women they’re too fat to be naked in front of you generally doesn’t end well. How did he not end up having to get his nuts surgically removed from his wind-pipe?

Answer: Mayra Leal is a saint. Or an angel. Possibly the Dalai Lama. Definitely awesome.

  1. And the porn people haven’t made this yet… why, exactly?
  2. Who, by the way, is a really talented photographer

Clare Grant: There’s More To Seth Green’s Wife Than Lightsaber Nipples (NSFW)

Let’s be very clear about something: I resent Seth Green. First, there’s the obvious: he made Without A Paddle, for which he will endure a well-deserved season in hell. I’m also bitter about his talent, since I firmly believe hairless Ewoks should stick to playing in trees and stop making the rest of us feel bad for under-achieving despite our robust height and relatively massive genitalia. But most significantly, I resent him for marrying Clare Grant; in a world that contains an available –and given his hair and her skin, color-coordinated– Snooki, why poach the good chicks? It’s just rude, is what I’m saying.


I've got a Facebook friend with a nearly identical head shot. Ah, Hollywood... a land where women never have right ears.

And believe me, I would marry Clare Grant in his place. She’s distinctively gorgeous, has ridiculously hypnotic eyes, and is completely unashamed of her busy genre-sploitation acting career. Hell, from what I can see, she actively embraces it. That implies the sort of down-to-earthiness that would appreciate my sense of whimsy1 and tendency to cry after sex.2

My impotent rage and potent sexuality aside, this is where I point out that the delightful Clare has been in the dorknews of late because she rounded up some sexy friends and Chris Griffin’s less-suave alter-ego to make this video:

Now, in general, I’m not a geek-girl sycophant; these days, we’re supposed to fall all over ourselves the second a pretty lady confesses her love for Alan Moore, but I’m not havin’ it. Why the fuck would anyone act like this is a big deal? Alan Moore is a batshit-crazy genius, and there’s something wrong with you if you don’t appreciate his work. I’m not going to give you extra Life Points for simply resisting the urge to let your physical beauty overwhelm your good taste.

Life Objective #4,287: Somehow convince Clare to wear this outfit while making me a sandwich. Life Objective #4,288: Get Katy Perry to wear the same thing while feeding me the sandwich. Life Objective #4,289: Talk to a shrink about why my fantasies involve sandwiches rather than my penis playing "Destroy the Death Star" with Clare's cervix.

But I do award Life Points for brazenly being who you are, having fun with it, and not making excuses. That is hot, in oh-so-many ways. And by that standard, Clare’s score is about to roll over like the odometer in a 1972 Duster.

Someone has excellent posture. Also, boobs. And a skilled aesthetician, by the look of things.

Interesting side-note: despite the Geek Girls video’s popularity, I believe people are missing out on the real gem in her online filmography:

That’s just art, that is.


Yeah, fuck you, Green; you're the Billy Joel of poultry-oriented android shows, and one day you'll get yours. Which, if history is any indication, will involve lots of money and hot babes. So... fuck you twice!

Oh, and Clare, seriously love… have you delved deeply into your beau’s oeuvre?3 I’m just puttin’ it out there; this is how your offspring will turn out:

So do us all a favor: if you’re determined to stay with him, at least keep Seth as far from your womb as possible. (I’ve got some really tiny crime scene tape if you’d like to borrow it.) And if you absolutely must turn to a young star of Can’t Buy Me Love to ruin this majestic perfection:

…at least give Patrick Dempsey a call. Worst case scenario, your kid will wait until he’s thirty, and then turn into a stud.

follow Clare: @claregrant
Clare’s website: ClareGrant.com
The Devil’s Taint: @sethgreen


  1. “Whimsy” is what broke people rely upon when they want to take a vacation but can’t afford to leave the back yard.
  2. I’m just so good at it, I feel like I need to weep in gratitude.
  3. And if so, what kind of lubricant did you use?

Kristina Rose: My New(d) Cleaning Lady (NSFW)


If you’ve spent any time around here, you’ve probably seen photos of Kristina Rose. I adore her. Super much. She is just… she’s tops, man. The best. A Rose by any other name would smell like feet. And this is why:

She's a porn chick who is gorgeous-and-yet-phenomenally filthy. She's gorgilthy.

She spends almost all of her free time high on ganja. Seriously. If she's not working, her Twitter status will usually feature the words "smoking up now".

She has kewl friends, many of them naked.

She's a funny little thing. Maybe it's the pot, but she always seems to be either laughing or trying to make someone else laugh. (Okay, yeah, it's probably the pot.)

One of the most expressive faces on earth, doth she possess.

She's a healthy eater.

She gives spectacular Twitpic. 'Nuff said.

In one of her movies, she's out for Santa's blood when he puts her on his Naughty List. (Her crime? Blowing the drive-through guy in exchange for a super-size on her value meal. Her defense? "Duh, it's a recession.") In the process of seeking vengeance, she physically assaults a female elf at the North Pole by first choking said elf and then beating up her butt cheeks. As plots go, that beats The Expendables.

She collects gnomes and wears funky socks.

And now we have a hip-hop video from King Fantastic, wherein she demonstrates her cleaning skills.

I’m tellin’ ya, if she could poop Xbox games, she’d be perfect. Follow Kristina Rose on Twitter.

hat tip: Audioporn Central

Heather Morris (Brittany) Naked, “Glee” Now 5% Less Gay!

Glee is… well, it… it just blows, man.

Not because it’s incredibly, overwhelmingly gay, mind you. A television show has the right to be as flamboyant as it likes, and I fully support its opportunity to marry other rainbow-powered, unicorn-riding primetime comedy/dramas… or even adopt a little spin-off someday. I’m no (ordinary) bigot! Why, some of my favorite programs have been ridiculous, wrist-drooping, homo-tastic cheese-fests! And not just the obvious ones, like Walker, Texas Ranger.

But there is such a thing as good taste, and I have it. (I’ve been told my balls have a playful flavor; robust, with a hint of taint.) As such, I am utterly opposed to Glee‘s sub-Grease 2 brand of high school musicality. If The Breakfast Club got Xanadu drunk one night and they accidentally made a baby, it would be a mongoloid atrocity on roller skates… and it would still be better than Glee.

So it was with no small delight that I came across (make of that what you will) a couple nudes featuring the be-nippled form of one of Glee‘s lithe and fetchingly stupid cheerleaders, Heather Morris. Yes, Heather Morris, she who embodies the character Brittany and gives voice to the only funny lines on the show not uttered by Jane Lynch.

Lynch, by the way, is living proof that short-haired lesbians can be awesome and hilarious. (The counter-argument being, of course, Ellen Degeneres.) Power to my close-cropped sistahs!

Naked hairography is the best kind.

Sadly, the photographer did not book Heather to play a solo at Vagstock, so there’s only so much she can improve her show’s situation. But every little bit helps, and her work here at least suggests the possibility of a Glee where the ball-shriveling sincerity and covers of 30 year-old Madonna tunes (that sucked even before their bloated pop-cultural corpses were aurally fucked by Cory Monteith’s pasty vocal stylings) are at least supplemented by an occasional burst of teh sexxy.

Yes, Naked Brittany. That's a wall.

Ideal situation? Brittany and Santana break out the scissors and somehow manage to make the whole thing more and less gay, simultaneously. That, my friends, would be epic. Still bad… but epic.



(hat tip: Egotastic)

Bootyography: Wet T-Shirts Are To Dudes As Rainbows & Unicorns Are To Six Year-Old Girls


It was just another random afternoon on the beach during Spring Break. I wandered aimlessly from bikini to bikini, wondering how I would close out a day of leering and dodging restraining orders. Slowly, the sky grew overcast and the temperature dropped, so naturally, it was time to whip out the hose and soak some hooters.

PCB03-18 1247 "Dear Diary: Danced in contest today. I think they really liked my glasses!"

I’m sorry. That was cheap, childish phrasing. I should be ashamed of myself.

PCB03-18 1252 Petite and damp: a wonderful combination!

I don’t know why we, as a society, must undermine the power and majesty of the female breast through the use of ridiculous euphemism.

PCB03-18 1266 "Wait, did you say the water would be col-- AAAAAAAH!!!"

Is it not enough that our noble sisters and their secondary sex characteristics must endure the daily affrontery of straps and underwires and whatever the hell an IPEX is?

PCB03-18 1281 "Piercings for everyone!"

Do these marvels of natural engineering truly need a bra to elicit wonder?

PCB03-18 1301 Workin' it like a pornstar

Even worse, I can’t help but suspect that our tawdry trivializations may, in some fashion, lead to bigger –possibly even enormous– issues in the future.

PCB03-18 1292 "That guy over there won't stop staring at me!"

All I can do is look at the smiling face below, that of the misguided contest’s “winner”, and shake my head in disconsolate shame. For I, a self-centered, awful little man, have failed her and everyone like her. In seeking to celebrate, I have mocked. With my lascivious gaze and careless words, I have tarnished her gentle form.

PCB03-18 1310 Cute as a button... with big knockers.

PCB03-18 1313 The dude in the back looks like he's seeing god. Or at least god's ass.

PCB03-18 1315 The winning ingredients

Oh, hey, wait… nipple slip!

PCB03-18 1317 Sweetie, it might be a bit late for modesty...

I’m going to hell, aren’t I?

[media id=5 width=580 height=420]

Yep, pretty much.

Gratuitous Spring Break: Skinny Britney & Friend (Part the First)


Confession time. I like pretty girls. I hide it well, but every now and again, a little hint will slip out.

Yeah, I know, the thought-provoking journalism to which you’ve become accustomed around here couldn’t prepare you for this. I feel bad about that, but I have to be true to myself, even if “myself” isn’t always pretty.[1] So here I’m going to present the first installment of my personal experiments in recreational sexological photographism.

I have no idea what their names are; I just call the taller one Skinny Britney, and her little accomplice gets stuck with the nom de bikini Skinny Britney’s Friend. They were both contestants at Club La Vela in Panama City Beach, FL, shaking their shit for a couple hundred bucks and the honor of being the primary objects of my day’s lust. [2]

I sincerely believe SB may be the single most self-confident human being I have ever observed. Completely relaxed while wearing nearly nothin', laughing one moment and turning on the sexxay the next. Amazing.

I sincerely believe SB may be the single most self-confident human being I have ever observed. Completely relaxed while wearing nearly nothin', laughing one moment and turning on the sexxay the next. Amazing.

skinny-britney-and-black-bikini (5)

I love SBF's expression as they both field invitations from boys in the pool below. She actually manages to pull off the "oh, poor baby, I'm afraid not" face with some conviction.

skinny-britney-and-black-bikini (117)

I'm not sure, but I think he was offering his fisting services. For which dude receives my respect... I mean, as random, drunken flirting goes, requesting to reserve space for your forearm in someone's baby bungalow is awfully ambitious.

More to come of these two (including a little video), and lots more… but for now, here’s a gallery.


[1] “Pretty,” no. A “studly mass of panty-dampening penis power”? You betcher ass, baby.

[2] Said honor being reserved for those lucky individuals who meet my stringent criteria. To wit: female, in my line of sight, and not running away in terror.