I have a lot of male friends. The nice kind. The kind that want a girlfriend, get sweaty-palmed before a date, and are giddy when it goes well. So I’m constantly baffled when, after a first date, I get the traditional phone-call run-down and they are disappointed because it ‘all went wrong’.
Valentine's Day - for some it's a Hallmark too far, for others a charming Victorian tradition, albeit one that's been marketed to death. When it comes to Valentines presents, I think I may have discovered some middle ground for men, often victims of the dreaded Valentine's Syndrome, i.e., that of Not Getting It Quite Right. Or even Hopelessly Wrong. While it requires a certain amount of effort on a bloke's part (like any kind of grand romantic gesture), get it right and there's usually a payoff; in this case it's a simple one: women love to be spoiled. It gets us in the mood to do terribly filthy things to you. Isn't that really all you need to know?
Further to the pronouncement earlier last year that the Coalition government intend to ‘crack down’ on online pornography, the Prime Minister more recently stated that viewing ‘extreme’ pornography will become a criminal offence carrying a maximum sentence of three years in prison.
In the vast, gaping hole of abstinence and economy cheddar that heralds the New Year, I’m already yearning for a little suttin’ suttin’ to perk the days up. And since one cannot in good conscience get shortsighted on the sauce just yet, I decided to do the next best thing: watch other people doing it, from the comfort of my living room, lying supine under a blanket that smells vaguely of hutch.
We're hung up on tits. Today a woman's sexuality and attractiveness is defined by them. But pert or pendulous, plastic or product of a generous puberty, the prized possessions that front every woman cause controversy. Men love to ogle them, women love to show them off, infants love to feed from them – so in our current cultural climate, can breasts really be all things to all men, women and babies?
May 2014 be your year of erotic passion, sexual fulfilment and partnership bliss. And for those of you not in some sort of hot relationship – or even a gently simmering one – may this year's adventures be mainly pleasing ones, and if not exactly felicitous, then at least memorably steamy or salutary. Something to tide you over until The One comes along. A big thank you to all our contributors for your support and all the wonderful work you have submitted. And thanks, too, to our readers for their appreciation of the ER site – and their patience: we hope to resume our normal level of output soon.
'It’s an entreprise founded on revenge – on, as the site itself claims, betrayal. At the same time, a disclaimer notes hurriedly that “Shesahomewrecker.com is all about gossip and satire”, although how much satire’s involved in posting offenders’ addresses and phone numbers on the comment sections is debatable.'
Erotic Towers has moved – to leafy Clapham. Its denizens look glumly at a veritable mountain of boxes filled with books, obsolete sex gadgets, back issues and office paraphernalia. The only one not to make the short journey across the river was Bonking Bonita, our unofficial mascot, never taken out of her box, by now almost certainly perished (in more senses than one) and possibly a contender for the world’s oldest inflatable sex doll. Poor Bonita, we shall mourn her as she takes her inevitable resting place in some toxic landfill site in a corner of South East England. We will miss our old building, too, where many a jolly lunch was held with guests that included such luminaries as Boris Johnson, a man who loves cycling, pretty gels and being mayor and a Tough Tory. Not necessarily in that order. So please bear with us while we try to organise ourselves into some semblance of alert and receptive efficiency. We hope to be up and running again in the first week of January. But between now and then we will be acting a little crazy… Oh, and thanks v. much, Virgin Media, for compounding our moving lunacy by telling us a couple of days before that our new place would not have the super-fast broadband you had promised and we would just jolly well have to wait – for up to eight weeks. But never mind, those nice people at Sky are helping out. So there's one in the eye for Liberty Global's chairman, John C. Malone, aka Darth Vader. Yes, I'm sure our defection to Sky will come as a bitter blow to Darth. Question is, will Rupert do any better? According to a cheery ex-employee of Sky we talked to today, probably not – they're all the same bunch of wankers. There's one robust insider view of the telecoms industry.
Recently, BBC documentary-maker Louis Theroux did a follow-up to his now classic documentary Porn. The sequel is called Twilight of the Porn Stars, which shows how the internet has destroyed stable incomes of people within the porn industry.
Copstick is interviewed by Divya Khan about her charity, Mama Biashara: "You only have to watch a couple of hours of TV and you'll catch enough Poverty Porn to last you a lifetime - picturesque brown toddlers looking downcast and then, on queue, lifting their limpid, pleading brown eyes to camera as the obscenely overpaid voiceover celebrity exhorts us to pay £3.00 a month to ensure ‘little Ayesha’ doesn't have to starve/drink dirty water/watch her mother die/get sold into slavery/get beaten/abused/neglected by her parents/the man up the road."