Ian Ironwood Is Here To Take Your Questions!

Need advice? Want to share some intriguing sexual information? Heard about something sexy and obscure and want to know more? Ask an expert Sex Nerd!

NO SEXUAL QUESTION TOO HARD! OR TOO SOFT!

Friday, December 17, 2010

Nerd Girl Hall Of Fame: Katrina Hill, The Action Flick Chick





Everyone knows some dude who’s into chick flicks . . . I mean really into chick flicks, to the point where you start to wonder. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with it, I guess, and there’s no doubt that he has an easier time talking to wo

men supported by all the valuable insights into feminine psychology he’s gleaned from traveling pants and pianos and ABBA musicals, but . . .

Well, every now and then an extraordinary individual comes along from the other side of the Force, and you meet a chick who’s far more into Iron Man than Steel Magnolias. Katrina Hill, a Texas babe also known as The Action Flick Chick, is one such woman. She developed an enthusiasm – nay, a gloriously nerdy reverence – for action f

licks in her youth, thanks to the unhealthy influence of her brothers.


As a result she’s a Nerd Boy’s wet dream: a smart chick with a hot body who games and cheers at explosions; a girl hard-wired to thrill at the perfect on-screen kill; a fox who can kick your ass at your video game of choice and make you not mind the humiliation so much after she shoots you a sultry glance; a lady who can identify a Russian-made RPG the way most girls can identify a pair of Ferragamo heels.



And the girl has some strong opinions: Her favorite action movie? The classic Tremors (1990). Favorite classic action movie kill? Rambo IV. Favorite fantasy bad ass to train with? Solid Snake. Best horror action flick ever? The Dawn of the Dead remake. You might argue her choices, but I wouldn’t get within arm’s reach while doing so – Action Flick

Chick has a license to kick ass, and she ain’t afraid to use it.Katrina runs the Action Flick Chick blog, where she expounds at length on the merits of the movies, the heroes, the actors, the explosions, and the pure excited terror that defines the genre. She’s passionate about her vocation, escalating the fine art of video violence from the banal to the sublime. A kind of sexy Texas Kali Yuga, she recently won Gamette of the Month at busygamer.com, and is a powerful contender for Gamette of the Year 2010 (You may vote for her here – once a week, please). She’s an ardent Twitterist, and recently cosplayed The Baroness from GI Joe – and I can so totally see it.


Her site is an on-line shrine to all thinks destruction-related, with a delightfully horrific slant – she recently interviewed the cast of The Human Centipede, for instance. Her extensive and well-written reviews tell you exactly what you want to know about a flick, a TV show (she recently reviewed the season finale [as if six episodes is somehow a ‘season’] of the AMC hit zombie-fest The Walking Dead, of graphic novel fame), or live events (she covered the Dallas ComicCon for Attack Of The Show). She’s also the recipient of the first annual G4TV Next Woman Of The Web award. She and her avatar also star in "The Action Chick" webcomic.

Call her a professional fangirl or an up-and-coming webstarlet, the fact is that Katrina is a sassy, smart and sexy nerd girl with a penchant for violent entertainment and an outstanding eye for pop culture trends. I forsee big things for her. And if you’re wondering why I selected her, specifically, for this rare honor over all of the other worthy Nerd Girls out there, it was this tidbit from her interview with Busygamer.com that won me over:

Tell us one of your super secret nerdy fantasies…
Being part of a super-secret black ops team with Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the crew of the Firefly, blasting both vamps and reavers while simultaneously playing the x-box 360 all night
long.

Buffy. River. Willow. Zoe. Kaylee. And Katrina. Fighting Reavers and Vampires. Oh, and a bunch of violence-prone hunky guys with guns (plus Wash and Xander) but . . .

I think I might need to change my trousers.


Congrats, Kat! Our newest inductee into the Nerd Girl Hall Of Fame!

Monday, December 6, 2010

Get Your Geek On With Geekscapes!



Okay, while I tend to lean heavily towards the "sex" side of "Sex Nerd", sometimes something comes along that's so nerdy as to be worthy of note on the blog, even if it isn't overtly sexy. This is one of those times.

I was at the NC ComicCon (yes, I'm that much of a nerd) a few weeks ago when something shiny caught my eye (besides a cool dozen issues of the vintage dirty comic book Omaha the Cat Dancer): hanging in a display window outside of one of the booths was the coolest nerdy thing I've seen in a while.

You know that scene in 40 Year Old Virgin (see? I knew I could work sex back into this!) where Steve Carrell freaks out because his girlfriend wants him to sell all of his highly-collectible toys? Well, yes, Virginia, there are nerds out there that are that hardcore about their toys. Indeed, there's a whole subculture of high-end collectible figure collectors out there. You don't have to have won a sci-fi con costume contest to spot a geeky demographic like that. Some of these figures are limited editions and trade for thousands of dollars. Remember that nerdy kid up the street who had every single Star Wars figure, even the elusive and highly-coveted first-edition Boba Fett? Well, he's worth a fortune, now. Only it's not just Star Wars toys: every major entertainment niche has had collectible figures made and traded.

But where to store your treasured figures? Obviously, if you're a serious collector just keeping them in the box is going to feel . . . wrong, somehow. After all, you want to display your prizes proudly, and even if you don't want to play with them and destroy their value, you do want to see them and show them off. But displayed figures get dusty, and can be damaged by harsh UV light, etc. Not to mention accidentally broken when your 4 year old nephew descends on your home and figures out that you have toys he can't touch.

But now you can put your figures on display in their natural environment, thanks to the invention of Geekscapes. Geekscapes are custom-made display cases that can hold as many as six 12" figures (more, if you want it bigger) sealed away from dust and protected from UV light. An internal LED lighting system allows a fully-illuminated display, or optional colored "mood lighting" (like the awesome Cobra Commander throne room I saw at the show). The cases are wall-mounted, meaning you don't have to get a separate piece of furniture to store them on, and decorative glass inserts on the sides allow almost complete 360 degree viewing of your precious figures. The Geekscapes either come plain, or for an additional fee they can be customized into nearly any setting, the price being dependent upon the complexity. With a starting price of $500 and the really nice ones (like the Predator jungle scene) can go for $1200 or more), it might seem a high price to pay; but consider that one of these boxes can protect $3000-$6000 worth of figures and you can see why plenty of collectors would consider this a worthy investment. The level of detail is magnificent!

I got the opportunity to talk to Lance Sawyers at the show, the CEO of 4 Corners Concepts, the company that sells Geekscapes. He started with his own successful framing business, then sought a way to combine his business with his love of comic books and sci-fi. A tall dude with the coolest, nerdiest tattoos on his legs (think superheroes and Star Wars -- this dude is committed!) Lance is a former Sk8r who has been doing this sort of thing for years. Nice guy, on a fundamental level -- he even told me about the time he got to see Carrie Fisher's private tattoo after she wanted to see his extensive ink at a Chicago convention . . . and he claims his tattoos go all the way up. (Dude got felt up by Princess Leia -- how cool is that?) He started a few years ago with GeekBoxes, specialized display cases for rare comic books, and Sk8Boxes, cases for prized skate boards, which saw a tremendous amount of success. Lance had already mastered the art of custom-displaying collections of Sports Memorabilia (big business in the Triangle region he hales from -- home of National Championship-addicted Duke and UNC-Chapel Hill), so moving into something closer to his own interests was natural. Since he collected comics and skated, he went there first.

But last year he realized that there was a large market for custom-made displays for high-end toys, and he started designing his first Geekscape. Each one is different, he says, and he's produced 4 impressive display models which he demonstrated at the NC ComicCon and the Virginia ComicCon, and will be taking to other shows in the near future. Included in his displays are the aforementioned Cobra Commander throne-room (with impressive stained glass windows and Cobra banners fluttering as a poor GI Joe prisoner is about to be decapitated), the lush jungle scene from Predator (his most elaborate and expensive to date), a glorious Geekscape of the recent Dark Knight Batcycle tearing through Gotham by night, an action-oriented GI Joe scene in Afghanistan (complete with desolate landscape and the aire of human desperation). Other projects are already in progress (they can take up to two months to finish, depending on the level of detail), but response has been enthusiastically strong.

"One dude offered me fifteen hundred on the spot, before the show even opened," Lance says, surprised. "I mean, I knew they'd be popular, but . . ."

Lance also makes smaller display boxes for smaller figures, but he doesn't shy away from custom work on a grand scale.
"I got a dude who wants the old Adam West-era Batman scene of Batman and Robin climbing up the side of a building with bat ropes, and someone -- I won't say who -- looking out of the window, just like on the show. But he also wants a custom 'Bat Signal' LED, so that the Bat Signal splashes on the wall above the case. It's going to be tricky, and possibly expensive, but I love the challenge. And there's really no one else servicing this market right now, so if there's a lot of interest, this could become one of my biggest selling products."

Now, if Lance can just do one of the Playboy Mansion . . .


CONTACT LANCE AT 4 CORNERS CONCEPTS FOR MORE INFORMATION ABOUT YOUR OWN CUSTOM GEEKSCAPE . . . AND NO, I DIDN"T DO THIS BLOG POST IN EXCHANGE FOR MY OWN. MY WIFE WON'T LET ME PLAY WITH ACTION FIGURES ANY MORE BECAUSE IT MAKES MY KIDS JEALOUS . . .

Monday, November 22, 2010

Nerd Girl Hall Of Fame: Temperance Brennan

Dr. Temperance Brennan ("Bones")








Shows like CSI and other procedurals can't hold a candle to the hit crime drama, Bones -- and it's not because of David Borneaz's hunky shoulders. It's because of the ultra-nerdy Dr. Temperance Brennan, a forensic anthropologist (see? I'm aroused already) who works at the Jeffersonian Institute, amongst an army of fellow nerds who figure out the identity of unknown human remains.







Dr. Brennan ("Bones" -- she specializes in them) is not overtly sexy -- indeed, it's her understated sexuality that makes her so appealing. On the show she rarely goes for the revealing, sticking instead to the tasteful -- but somehow that just makes her more attractive, not less. Bones has a smokin' body and a striking face (thanks in large part to Emily Deschanel's gorgeous bod), but it's her mind that's the sexy thing here.






Oh, she's no blushing virgin on the show -- in fact, her detached demeanor and empirical world-view make her almost refreshingly blunt about sex -- and she has her share of geeky partners over the show's many seasons. Dr. Brennan's distinct lack of social issues surrounding sex, and her logical, rational approach to . . . well, everything, including sex, gives  her an allure that you just can't buy with a garter belt and stockings. Indeed, it's her disdain for poorly-conceived cultural ideas about mating that makes her a hottie. You just can't have a brain that stuffed full








of amazing facts and laser-beam logic and take a divine prohibition against masturbation seriously, for instance.





It doesn't hurt that she surrounds herself with a lab full of doting geeks -- the female of the species in this case unusually attractive for a non-profit scientist, on the whole -- who see her genius surpassing their own, and don't resent it. Her best friend Angela is an image specialist with a far more common take on sexual matters -- and it is she, therefore, who advises Brennan on the lustier parts of the books she writes in her spare time. Angela's a perfect counterpoint to the stoic, Vulcan-like elegance of Brennan, a grown-up hippy chick who was just too darn brainy to spend her life backpacking through India. But her earthiness isn't the attraction in the show, it's clearly designed to act as a contrast to the distant, detached sexuality of the show's primary.





Therefore it is my pleasure to announce Dr. Temperance Brennan as this week's fictional Nerd Girl Hall of Fame inductee. Skeletal microfissures indicating a time of death have never been so sexy.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Dirtiest. Blues Song. Ever.

Just had to share: As a scholar of the historically raunchy, I was captivated by this early 20th century recording of what has to be the filthiest, most sexually aggressive blues song I've ever heard. I'm in awe of how dirty it is, and appreciative of the culture from which it sprang.

The title? "Shave 'Em Dry". It's sung by Lucille Bogan, and recorded in the 1930s. If there was ever any doubt of the overtly sexual nature of the blues, this jaunty little tune should put a bullet in it.

Check it out, courtesy our friends from Fleshbot.


Monday, November 15, 2010

A Harlot With A Heart Of Gold


I've never in my life patronized a prostitute, but since I started working in the sex industry I've met a few. There were no less than four legal brothels represented at last year's AVN show, and I enjoyed talking to the very friendly (and very expensive!) ladies who were working the booths. There was the hooker I met in the casino who, when I mentioned I was visiting Vegas with my wife, was considerate enough to include her in the proposal for a nominal fee (for the record, while amused, we never seriously considered such a thing! Old married couple . . .) And I've recently learned that an acquaintance of mine occasionally meets men in airport hotel bars as a side business, much to my surprise. Actually, more like shock -- you would never guess, to look at her.

So I have the utmost respect for a woman who has a true vocation for sex work. While theoretically any woman could do the job, in practice only a few have the mental and physical skills to stick with the rough business for any length of time. But in this crappy economy, despite the dangers and risks involved I can see why a woman with few other options might consider the profession. And while the tawdry cheap trick pulled by the common streetwalker is, unfortunately, the usual method of a sex-for-money transaction happening, thanks to the Internet, Craig's List (at least, it used to be) and an entrepreneurial spirit, a small but growing class of independent women offering sexual services in a safe and sane environment is thriving.

Some of these women are former professionals who can't find work in their fields and want to trade on their youthful good looks and sex appeal between assignments. Some are single moms who find "working" a few days a month preferable to welfare lines and food stamps and late child support payments. And some are just naturally drawn to the profession for no other reason than that they are really, really good at it, and they enjoy both the work and rewards.

Are their problems with prostitution in America? Of course there are. And for every "happy hooker" or "pretty woman" story out there, there are hundreds of horror stories of sexual exploitation, rape, drug addiction, and the like. In far too many cases a woman is prostituted against her will, or even trafficked specifically for sex.

I'm not ignoring the inherent dangers of the profession one bit, nor am I endorsing or even recommending it -- I'm merely observing a trend. The fact is, like so many other industries prostitution has seen a productivity boom thanks to the Web. The anonymity of the internet and disposable cell phones make it much easier for a woman to get into the business as an independent operator, without a pimp, and cultivate a small, loyal clientele without automatically falling victim to all the horrors that prostitution can bring. Consider them sexual entrepreneurs or the cutting edge of a 21st century cottage industry, but these ladies are pursuing their clients just like any other small business -- and that includes specials, group discounts, and options.

But this is the first time I've seen a "scarlet woman" who is offering a canned food drive promotion. (Props to Creamer for forwarding this to me.)

The woman who ran this on her blog uses the trade name "Norah", and by her website's account she's an
"attractive and discreet lady. Very friendly. I provide adult companionship services and sensual full-body rubs"
. . . and last week, as you can see, she even provided a military service discount for Veterans' Day. Plus she works frequently near military bases.

A patriotic prostitute.

But it's the canned food drive that gets me. Norah's offering $10 off her normal rate (which runs around $200 an hour) for 5 cans or boxes of non-perishable food. It's not a lot. And having some experience with what it takes to execute even a small-scale canned-food drive, I can assure you that it's an effort. But this North Carolina lady is clearly trying to do her part to alleviate the suffering of others in her community, and doing so without being apologetic for her profession. It's unlikely she's going to get any credit for her work -- and doubtful she really wants recognition, as she prides herself in her ads on her discretion -- but one cannot help but appreciate what this one woman is doing in a difficult time.

Patriotic and compassionate.

This isn't going to change the minds of those who condemn prostitutes or prostitution -- but perhaps it might show even those people that by de-humanizing the sex workers with cries of slut shaming that these ladies are real people, people who care about their community and their clients. Sure, they're in it for the cash. But not every hooker is a money-grubbing, self-centered wench, as Norah clearly demonstrates.

Some harlots really do have a heart of gold . . . and the price of gold is sky-high right now. Take that metaphor for what you will.

I'm not going to publish her contact information here, but I'm willing to forward it to those who likewise wish to honor Norah . . . in whatever capacity. Nutjobs need not apply.

Friday, November 12, 2010

Exclusive Alexis Texas Interview Coming Soon!


I had the wonderful opportunity to interview one of the biggest stars in the pornoverse yesterday, the fabulous Alexis Texas! It was arranged by one of my clients at the lovely Adam & Eve campus (A&E is, incidentally, celebrating 40 Years of business this year, a monumental accomplishment in an industry where companies can go into and out of business over the course of months) and taped. As soon as the edits are done, of course, I'll be posting it here in my Pornstar Interviews section.


Initial impressions? Tall. Tall but very nice. Alexis towers over most of the other performers I've had the pleasure of interviewing, and (with the addition of some absolutely smokin' high-heeled boots) her universally famous big booty looks almost slender in proportion.

Funny story: as part of the interview, I asked her about her well-known romantic connection to fellow adult performer, Mr. Pete. Of course I asked her about their sex-life, the most intimate details of their romance.

But I didn't ask her about her marital status . . . because I didn't want to get too personal!



Only in porn, folks. Only in porn.

So immediately after the interview, one of the folks at A&E kindly informed me that Alexis and Pete were married this past summer. Congratulations to you both, and may you have many happy years together in front of the camera and off-camera!

Alexis Texas is a class act, folks. And she's an outstanding performer. I just got the very earliest edit of her upcoming flick for A&E, Teagan Presley's The Six, where she does a stunning girl-girl scene with Teagan (an A&E contract star whom I hope to interview soon!), and her work in the kinky powerhouse D2: Deviance 2 was phenomenal. Of course I really love her for her parody work, including her roles in the parodies for Cheers, the
Office, the Dukes of Hazzard,
and others, but she impressed me the most with her outstanding scene in Batman: A XXX Parody (the one spoofing the old Adam West show, not the newer, darker Dark Night version) in which she delivers an absolutely phenomenal blowjob to Dale Dabone in the middle of a go-go dancing club in a beehive hairdo. That capped what was an otherwise brilliant parody for me (well, that and Evan Stone as the Riddler cackling maniacally and waving his pecker around . . . good times . . .).



(Of course the DVD I got her to autograph was the Star Trek DVD. I am a Nerd, after all.)

Anyway, I'll be posting the interview in its entirety after it comes back from post-production. In the meantime, feast your eyes on the finest ass in the galaxy!

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Parody Corner: 3 You Should See

As I’ve mentioned before, we’re living in a Golden Age of parody. As porn-as-whackfodder becomes devalued, thanks to tube sites and such, porn-as-entertainment is on the rise, and a wonderful crop of great parodies has hit the market. Since few people have time to figure out which ones are worthwhile, here are some reviews and recommendations that can help you make a date-night decision!



First up: Sex In The City: The Original XXX Parody

Now with REAL sex!

Fans of the show (and there are a gajillion of them) will enjoy this for the non-sex, as the director has taken great pains to get the details right, down to the jazzy musical bumps between scenes and Carrie’s voiceovers. Director Lee Roy Meyers does an admirable job re-creating the show, approaching it with the intensity of a true fan. Best yet, the dialog is snappy, witty, and just what a slightly-sluttier version of all your favorite characters (if that’s possible) would say.

The storyline revolves around Carrie’s (the tarty Kayla Paige) dilemma: Mr. Big (Evan Stone – well done, too!) has received a job offer in El Lay, and invites Carrie to come out and cohabitate with him. But while she’s intrigued by to proposal (but still very conscious there’s no ring involved) she is loath to abandon her best friends. Of course, Samantha (Brittany Andrews – a good, not great casting decision), Charlotte (Bobbi Starr – dead on, and great chemistry, too!) and Miranda (Zoe Voss, and very apt) aren’t about to let her go without a fight! A great plot for the show, and once you add in the sexual issues all of them are enjoying, there’s a lot of great scrumping, too!

The sex isn’t “chick porn” – that’s not to say it isn’t hot and erotic and strokeworthy, this just isn’t what we in the profession call “chick porn”. That’s a good thing, because I don’t think any of the friends (except maybe Charlotte) would really be into chick porn, or have chick-porn style sex with their humpies. Don’t know the difference? “Chick porn” is ostensibly designed for women to enjoy, but that means the focus is on the scene, the setting, the lighting, the props, the wardrobe, the music, etc. etc. and not on the humpage. Since most of the porn chicks I know don’t care for chick porn, ironically enough, this has plenty of lusty appeal to everyone. All four of the leads did magnificently well, and the chatter flowed naturally compared to some parodies. High marks, and big date-night recommendations!






Next up: Not Charlie’s Angels XXX

If you weren’t around back in the days when there were (at most) four channels on your TV, you missed one of the hottest T&A fests the 1970s (and producer Aaron Spelling) ever produced: Charlie’s Angels. A prototype for Baywatch and other jiggly-jugged faves, Charlie’s Angels had the distinction of

a) having the late Farrah Fawcett for a season of “acting”
b) having three hot babes who didn’t mind peeling down as often as the censors would allow and c) increase the amount of sex most Americans had in the 1970s.



That’s right, back when they started keeping statistics about such things, Charlie’s Angels led to more late-night hump-fests than any other show. Johnny Carson talked about it a lot. The show was re-booted in the last few years featuring Lucy Liu, Cameron Diaz and Drew Barrymore, not to mention Dan Ackroyd as Bosley, but let’s just all pretend that was a bad acid trip and move on.

Now we have the porn parody, directed by the acclaimed Will Ryder, and thankfully Will and the folks at X-Play have remained faithful to the original concept. The Angels (Sunny Leone, Lexi Swallow, and Andy San Dimas) are all private detectives working for Charlie, their disembodied boss. (missed point: Charlie, in the original series, had a bit of a North East accent overlayed by laid-back California English; in the porn parody he has British or Australian accent. Minor point) This week’s episode (and yes, that’s how they phrase it in the title under the classic funk guitar title music) revolves around cocaine and prostitution and disappearing party girls at Studio 54 – can the Angels help? Of course they can!

The costumes are stunning vintage 1970s, with low cut V necks, wide bell bottoms, and wild prints (but, I was said to see, no smocks. I'd love to see one of the Angels get shagged in a smock. That sounds so . . . dirty . . . ) . The hair is vintage, too, and the three do an excellent job of staying in character as they go undercover at the tony discotheque. The sets and extras are impressively in-period, and the only clear anachronism I caught was when the bad guys are counting their cocaine money, and many of the $100 bills are the modern, big-faced greenbacks, not the 1970s standard. But such things make the show more entertaining, not less. And the sex is what you’d hope a really good episode would have done, had they allowed explicit sex on network TV in the 1970s! Some great girl-girl (of course!) and plenty of fellatio, cunnilingus, and funky dance riffs make this a blast from the past that’s ideal for a nostalgic date night!





Next up: Batfxxx: Dark Night

I’ve raved and raved about this year’s outstanding porn parody, Batman: A XXX Parody, based on the Adam West 1960s vintage version of the Caped Crusader. But now Bluebird Films, of all studios, has made an impressive foray into the parody market with this stunning flick based on the more recent Heath Ledger/Christian Bale version.

Gothard (sic) City is under siege from a fiendish band of villains, led by the Joker (played beautifully with creepy mania by Paul Chaplin). He’s even recruited Catwoman (Madelyn Marie) into his gang. But a certain cowled hero, The Bat (Nick Manning), is leading a crusade to stop their evil plans.

Same bat plot, same bat story. But it never gets old.

But here’s where things get interesting: director Nicholas Steele included no less than 9 group-sex scenes in full costume, making this dark comic book hero the center one orgy after another, with writhing bodies and outstanding group sex at every turn. There’s a tremendous emphasis on detail here, but there’s also some fine porn acting, particularly by Paul Chaplin. And with over 60 adult performers, I’m sure you can find some flesh you like! This is highly entertaining porn spectacle, not to be missed.

That’s it for Parody Corner this week, kids! Next time: porn parodies of Avatar, Soul Train, and Friday the 13th!

Monday, October 25, 2010

Nerd Girl Hall Of Fame: Danica McKellar




I said I'd profiled a real nerd girl this time around, as opposed to a fictional one. At first glance you might think I went back on my word -- and the word of a nerd is sacred. But I didn't. Our inductee this time out is Danica McKellar, who you may remember as Kevin Arnold's (Fred Savage's) love interest on the bubblegum sitcom The Wonder Years.

I'll cop to having a crush on Winnie (Danica), which is perfectly legitimate since we were roughly the same age at the time. Winnie (Danica) was wicked cute, and had all the makings of a first class nerd girl.


But we aren't inducting Winnie Cooper, fictional nerd girl. We're inducting Danica McKellar, real life nerd girl.


She's always been hot, but this beauty has brains to spare: she even has a mathematical therom named after her! Danica studied mathematics at UCLA, graduating with highest honors (summa cum laude) in 1998.


As an undergraduate, she coauthored a scientific paper with Professor Lincoln Chayes and fellow student Brandy Winn. Their results are termed the 'Chayes–McKellar–Winn theorem'. Otherwise known as 'Percolation and Gibbs States Multiplicity for Ferromagnetic Ashkin-Teller Models in Z2.'




Danica's Erdős number is four. If you know what that is, you're a hardcore mathnerd. If you understand the significance, you know that Danica is likewise a hardcore math nerd. And as super-hot as that is, it's not the best thing about Danica (and no, I'm not talking about her adorable face or her luscious body). The best thing about Danica is that she's putting her brains to work on behalf of all of our daughters in a series of specialized math books designed specifically for preteen and teenaged girls.




Since most math books are written by men and are as much fun to read as cold pancakes with no syrup, Danica penned a much more appropriate style designed to appeal to the native sensibilities of younger girls. It's tragic how much girls are discouraged from doing math in school -- or at least doing well at it. Not only are teachers and the system in general prejudiced against the idea that girls can excel at mathematics, but social pressures on girls from each other to bag math as boring, boy stuff is profound. As a father of a young daughter facing that already in elementary school, I fully appreciate just how much a series of books like Danica's is needed.



Her three books are Math Doesn't Suck, Kiss My Math, and the brand-new, scalding hot-off-the-presses Hot X: Algebra Exposed!, which I'm proud to plug in my blog. And if you want to see the steamier side of this mathnerd princess, check out the video to her Maxim photo shoot!

Now, I'm sure that plenty of women out there are concerned that someone who is such a positive role model for young nerd girls is scandalously seen in her skimpies, but the fact is that her beauty and her brains make up one complete person . . . that we want to drool over. The idea that you have to be a Slagathor in order to do math is just crazy. I'd prefer my math teachers to have looked like this. I might not have been a liberal arts major, then.


Thanks, Danica!

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Nerd Girl Hall Of Fame: Willow Rosenberg











As I mentioned, the Nerd Girl Hall Of Fame is open to both real and fictional sexy Nerd Girls. Since I started with a real girl, I'm going to alternate to a fictional one -- and a really hot one, at that: Willow Rosenberg.

The character on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Joss Whedon's cult classic TV show about a teenage girl who kills vampires and saves the world and junk, contained a number of compelling characters. One of the strongest was that of Willow Rosenberg (played by the luscious redhead with the cool voice, Allyson Hannigan, now on How I Met Your Mother), Buffy's nerdy side-kick and go-to girl when it came to library research and getting kidnapped by demons. Willow was a nerd girl from Day One, playing the classic high school chick with a big brain, small tits and low self-esteem. But that didn't mean she wasn't sexy! Even in the early days Willow had a seething sexuality hidden by a steaming pile of demure, a force that leaked out in unexpected but delightful ways as the seasons progressed.

She started out the nice Jewish nerd girl, wearing corduroy, sweaters, overalls, and other mismatched nerdwear. Always meek and cautious, she had a built-in vulnerability and a knack for witty dialog -- not to mention a case of hormones that raised its ugly head from time to time -- that made her irresistible to nerddom. The red hair and big eyes and pouty lips certainly didn't hurt! In her whacky home town of Sunnydale, she did all the normal things that a kid living on the edge of a gate to hell enjoys: running for her life, group dates, being threatened by demons, yearbook, and hunting vampires on a school night. Crazy kids. Better yet, she lost her virginity to a really, really nice werewolf (Seth Green) in the back of a van. How cool is that? An evil alternate universe Willow, turned into a sexy, vampy vampire seductress complete with leather and bodice and long sexy legs revealed another side to our wholesome nerd girl. And she was a little gay.


But the Willow fun didn't stop at mere nerdhood: Willow was also a witch ("Wiccan", in the TV sense, not the really religious sense) and a powerful one. Her magickal kung fu helped tremendously in the later seasons, as she and Buffy and their pals went to college. If Nerdy Willow was hot in an understated way, Nerdy Wiccan Willow was twice as hot.

But then the hotness got hotter as our nerd girl decided to switch teams and become a lesbian her freshman year. It was a controversial move -- many of the fans were pleased with the decision, many were appalled, but it just gave her that much more sexy for us low-brow hormone-crazed types. A sweet loveable nerd girl with red hair and pouty lips who casts spells and eats pussy, too? That even beat dating a werewolf!

The problem? Her choice of Freshman year girlfriend, Tara. I don't like Tara. Has nothing to do with her being gay, and everything to do about the character. No one was more pleased than I when Joss had Tara killed in an accidental shooting. Of course the grief forced Willow to turn to her Dark Side, and Dark Willow nearly destroyed the Earth, but that's what you get when you fuck with a nerd. We're inclined to over-react.



The question of whether Willow was a die-hard rug muncher or just happily Gay Until Graduation has been more-or-less answered in her continuing inclination to dine at the Y in the comic book series, Buffy Season 8. Seen here entwined with a spirit babe, you can't deny the horniness in Willow's eyes. Gay Willow is still hot!



And while many of us want to see her eventually return to sausage -- or just get kinky with a boy every now and again -- too many LGBT fans would riot over it, so Joss The Boss is likely to keep her eating bush indefinitely.

But there's always fan fiction . . .

Monday, September 27, 2010

Nerd Girlz Rule


Some dudes like the idea of a big boobed, bubble-butt blonde with a low IQ and high gullability factor -- and while I can relate to that a a visceral level, the fact is that what trips my personal trigger (and I know I'm not alone on this) is the idea of a sexy, intelligent woman whose amazing body is a mere complement to her sexy, saucy brain. Yeah, I dig smart chicks. I have a thing for Hermione Granger and I'm not ashamed about it. I'll pass up a dozen blonde bombshells for the chance to cross swords (so to speak) with the brunette with the book and the glasses in the corner.

Brains and beauty, together, beat beauty alone. Brains, beauty and ambition are even hotter, and when you put brains, beauty and ambition on the same plate with a heaping side order of innovation . . . well, it's hard for me not to moan lustfully.

Case in point: one of my new lust-objects isn't on your standard adult site. She runs her own, The Naked Coder (http://thenakedcoder.com/wordpress/). With the motto "Code is Hot/Naked is Hotter", the site is a model of 21st century innovation.

You see, it's hard for a freelance web designer to make it in today's economy. There are so many, and a spiffy-looking homepage just doesn't stand out the way it used to. You need to throw in some flash, and not the computer kind. You need to throw in some sizzle. You need to get people's attention -- and Sarah White, the proprietor of the Naked Coder, has done just that by stripping down and hacking code the way the computer gods intended.

Sarah makes this promise:

If you’re interested in having a website built, I’d love to do it for you. And you can watch me do it…naked! I know you’ll find my work impeccable, my delivery punctual, and my prices reasonable (considering the perks!). No matter your web desires, I can fulfill them.


And of course there are dozens of more-or-less SFW pics peppering her site. Above is one of the tastier ones, but this nerdy chick has got it seriously going on when it comes to the flaunting of her deliciously svelte bod. The stunning combination of glasses, a trim and seductive body, and dark red hair is a boner-builder of epic proportions. Pressing the laptop up against her tits is just gravy.

Some, of course, will blanche at the idea that this lovely young woman would have to stoop to such stunts even in this economy, and condemn her for trading her dignity for filthy lucre. Those people are technically known as idiots.

What I see here isn't a woman "selling her body", but an intelligent and secure young woman providing a value-added service to her coding skills. There's no shame here, there's pride. All too often our society denigrates the beauty of those women who don't fulfill the zaftig blonde sex goddess role, making them feel inferior to the bombshells despite their undeniable beauty. If you don't look like a Cosmo model, in other words, no matter how pretty you are you are made to feel like a wallflower. This is especially true for the Nerd Girlz, who are not only made to feel inferior about their bodies, but also are socially denegrated for the fact that they have a brain and aren't afraid to use it.

Nerd Girls are not encouraged to consider themselves "sexy", and all too often the perception is that their devotion to the cerebral leaves no room for an active sex life. Having known more than a few, I can testify that the contrary is true: there's more to nerd girlz than a few sexual experiments at band camp. Sarah is making a stand here, whether she realizes it or not, a stand for all those nerdy girls in high school who were made to feel like flat-chested torchbearers while cheerleaders and popularity hounds went out of their way to make themselves feel better and the expense of their far more intelligent sisters.

Finding a good web designer who can deliver is hard enough -- finding one that does all that and who will show you her tits . . . that's priceless. I truly hope that Sarah will continue this spectacularly innovative approach to the mundane world of e-commerce, and I plan on interviewing her about her site. In the meantime, I'm establishing her as the first of my Nerd Girl Hall Of Fame, in celebration of her sexy cerebral celebrity. And if she sends me even more scandalous pix of her, I'll count myself as one fortunate nerd dude.

Thanks, Sarah. You make us all proud.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Slap Kathie Lee Gifford In The Face With A Sex Toy!

This was cute: during one of those painful morning show moments on the Today Show, when the hosts are lamely trying to find something even remotely interesting to keep a decreasing number of eyeballs glued to the set (and Hoda, that hair isn't doing a durn thing to help), Hoda and Kathie Lee Gifford were discussing a recently released survey from the fine folks at Adam & Eve Productions, when Mrs. Gifford admitted "I wouldn't know an adult toy if it slapped me in the face". Which explains a lot about her legendary uptightatude, actually -- maybe if she had a Battery Operated Boyfriend she might chill out a little.

In any case, the question occurred: given the opportunity, which sex toy would you prefer to slap Kathie Lee Gifford in the face with? For bonus points, which one would you slap Hoda with? Now please understand that I'm not advocating random violence with marital aids -- far from it -- but if there were ever two old biddies who so painfully and desperately needed contact with a sex toy, I think these two might make the list.

Also, the way Soup (of E!) skewers them is most delicious. Click the link, since I couldn't get their embed to work.

http://www.eonline.com/videos/v57410_the-soup-sex-toy-slap.html

Friday, August 20, 2010

Joss Whedon, Porn, Science Fiction and the Future of Feminism




Someone forwarded me a self-righteous rant about one of my favorite subjects: the late, lamented sci-fi classic TV show Firefly, one of the most brilliant pieces of television ever created (and cancelled by Fox – boo, hiss). I’m sure you can tell I’m a fan. Why? Not just because it’s brilliantly concepted, delightfully rendered, lovingly detailed, incredibly well-acted, and intriguingly plotted – I love it most because it’s the best-written television show I’ve ever watched. Joss Whedon, Tim Minear, and their crew put together one of the highest pieces of art to ever hit the small screen – and then came back with the critically-acclaimed by woefully under-exposed movie Serenity, which extended the franchise brilliantly, before it was snuffed out.

Now Joss And Friends cut their teeth on Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel before they ascended to the level of Firefly, and in Buffy in particular Joss was widely hailed as bringing to the fore some contemporary feminist topics and addressing them in the context of a fantasy series with a strong young woman as the lead character. It often led to Joss being portrayed as a feminist, something he hasn’t done much to discourage. The blog rant called into question Joss’ feminist street cred by hammering out an exegesis of parts of his scripts for Firefly and Buffy. Taken by themselves, and from the most extreme points of view, they do seem misogynist in places.

But what the writer, a self-described “lesbian feminist sister”, had go completely over her single-minded little head (and yes, that condescending phrase was intended to be such, though I assure you my assessment had nothing to do with her gender) is that television is ART. You can slam it as “popular culture”, but all of history’s great art was, at one point or another, just another piece of “popular culture” – and this utter lack of perspective seethes through the rest of her piece. It might not be considered high art, but then Firefly’s main purpose was never to be a fascio-feminist manifesto, it was meant to be an adventure story set in a future dystopia. Remember that point. It’s important.

The writer also shudders at the idea, that
“I find much of Joss Whedon’s work to be heavily influenced by pornography, and pornographic humour.”


Considering that virtually all art outside of its most pure and inaccessable forms is a relation of human emotion, and that all human emotion is affected by sexuality – which includes pornography and pornographic humor – I concede the point.

Pornographic humor, of course, is rooted in the depths of our human subconscious. Recall, for instance, that one of the great Western religious traditions of all time, the Eleusinian Mysteries (which are often siezed upon by feminists as a positive feminist allegory) includes the part of the Myth where Demeter, Goddess of Grain and Motherhood, is brought out of her divinely inconsolable grief about her abducted daughter, Persephone, by a dirty joke. Pornography and pornographic humor are as essential a part of human nature as eating and sleeping, and to consider any cultural construct without accepting that is evidence of flawed reasoning or an inadequate education.

The writer makes the further mistake of intepreting the writing exclusively through a radical feminist filter, without considering the idea that inter-gender relations exist as a part of a greater cultural whole: Zoe calls Mal “Sir” not because she’s a submissive female, as the writer contends, but because she is a spiritually wounded soldier who clings to the trappings of the military life, including treating her superior on the ship (Mal is Captain, and therefore entitled to be referred to as “sir” by his first officer) with military respect – in other words, she’s a complete character, not a caricature, of the strong female warrior. Joss treats her like a real person subject to the real world, and that includes such things as elementary adherence to protocol in line with her official duties. Sorry if real women performing in a heirarchy rocks your feminist boat. I’m sure Katherine Janeway, strong female captain of Star Trek: Voyager, internally winced every time she was treated with respect and addressed as “sir”.

Her next contention is the most astonishing. Inara Serra, a major character on Firefly, is a “space whore”, that is, a high-class Companion who rents her company (including her sexuality) to select clients. In the world of Firefly (“The ‘Verse”), the Companions are a powerful and well-respected institution. Far from being mere prostitutes, they are adept cortesans who use their considerable (and expensive) charms in pursuit of a vocation where their sexuality, like their other characteristics, are used to the benefit of their clients and themselves. In many ways she’s the strongest woman on the ship, but her profession – respected in the sophisticated areas of the ‘Verse – is held in contempt by the low-brow yokels who inhabit the backwater colonies she haunts. To them she’s a whore, nothing more – and that’s the same contention the writer of the rant makes. It’s a type of intellectual slut-shaming of a woman who decides to be powerful by including her sexuality in her life, not excluding it.

But then again the writer also seems to consider any heterosexual coupling “rape”. We’ll get back to this again in a moment.

She seethes at the fact that an intelligent, well-educated woman would EVER want to use her sexuality for anything but (presumably) lesbian hand-holding. Real self-actualized, self-aware, powerful woman in that society, or our society, apparently must check their hearts at the door and use their vaginas only for empowerment unsullied by mere males. Real feminist women cannot be heterosexual without betraying their feminist ideals, in the writer’s narrow universe.

She further castigates Zoe, a very emotionally complex and complicated woman, for having a real, live, functioning heterosexual relationship with a (gasp) White Male. They’re a real couple: they fight, they fuck, they call each other endearing names, they depend on each other for fulfillment and support. But apparently Wash, who is, compared to his warrior wife, a “semi-muscular man”, treats the woman he loves dearly and is hopelessly devoted to like “a piece of meat” according to the rant writer. Despite the fact that Wash is probably the most Beta male in Sci-Fi history, his simpering masculinity is just too strong for the rant writer to handle. The fact that his devotion to his wife is so strong that (in one famous scene) he’s not even tempted when he’s in the middle of a whorehouse should say something about the character – but he’s merely male, and therefore an implicit rapist. The fact that Zoe is equally devoted to Wash, to the point where she is willing to sacrifice her Captain, leader, and war buddy Mal in order to save him is also lost on the writer. Heterosexual relationships are apparently fundamentally flawed no matter how well they work and make people happy.

And then she starts in on the violence, throwing around words like “homoerotic” and “hypermasculinized” and “manliness” and “rivalry” with gay abandon. I won’t get into it, save to remind you that Firefly was an action-adventure sci-fi story. Last time I checked, they did best with a lot of fight scenes. Action adventure stories that center around discussing the characters’ feelings without a couple of good fistfights or gun fights aren’t, by definition, action-adventure. Firefly is set in a lawless frontier, where violence is part and parcel of the characters’ lives, not to mention the way they made their living. You’d think she’d know what she was getting – it was right there on the box, since all the characters are heavily armed in the picture. If she was that opposed to violence, homoerotic or otherwise, you’d think she’d skip it and pick up Personal Best instead.

So that brings us to consider her total perspective, which associates anything male or masculine automatically with rape and oppression. Men, in her opinion, are not allowed to be masculine, they are not allowed to be sexual, they are not allowed to be violent – they just plain aren’t allowed. Feminism, in her view, is the glorious idea of a world untainted by Y chromosomes. Half the human race is expendable and undesirable. Women good, man bad.

And that’s a problem. For feminism.

Because you can look at feminism in one of two ways: as a real, vibrant, creative and correcting force in our society – our whole society, men and women – or you can look at it as a mindless dogma more attached to idealism than to constructing real solutions to the very real problems we face today. And I mean “we” as in “men and women” – because the the transformative power of feminism has touched all of our lives. For the ranter and the radical anti-sex captial-F Feminists she parrots, the feminist ideal is a lot like the Marxist Workers’ Paradise, a mythical lesbotopia utterly unconnected with reality. The problem is the latter attitude is at odds with the former in such fundamental ways that it threatens to discredit all of feminism and the good it has done with crazy misandrany and complete male-bashing.

The promise of feminism is that men and women should ideally be treated as equals in our society, and despite a lot of reactionary misogyny over the years the march toward that goal has been steady and consistant. Many of the original outrages that inspired the movement and philosphy have been defeated and tossed in the trashheap of history – and I say good riddence. But the issues of chattel marriage, female disfranchisement, and economic independence, among others, were the low-hanging fruit. It was easy to see the injustice and take action. Now – in our Western culture, at least – what remains gets far more complicated, because the feminist philosophy in its single-minded pursuit of its goals, is now running up against some of the very basic aspects of masculinity that men, as a gender, are probably unwilling to compromise on.

This might be more important to little-l feminists than you might think.

Let’s start with pornography. Simple issue, no? Well, no, it isn’t. Because men aren’t going to give it up, ever, as individuals or as a society. Porn is an expression of masculine sexuality, and I would no more allow my sexuality to be dictated to me by a “lesbian feminist sister” than I would expect her to let me dictate what her sexuality should be. While the big-F Feminists rail at porn as inherently exploitive, I’ll remind everyone that they also rail at heterosexual sex in any form as inherently exploitive, if not actual rape.

Since a good 80% of the women of the world are primarily heterosexual in orientation, that fallacious idea saps the credibility from any further arguments even among small-f feminists. As a member of the porn industry, of course, you may consider my opinion highly biased and my perspective narrow. I’ll freely admit to that. I cannot consider all porn “exploitive”, and I certainly don’t consider my heterosexuality to be implicitly so. But even if you discount my profession, please don’t discount my perspective: because if feminism is to progress as a socially relevent philosophy and movement, then it must do so in concert with men and it must come to terms with the idea that masculinity isn’t going to dry up and fade away.

I know men. Good, strong, happy, healthy men who love their wives and girlfriends, do their best to avoid being complete dicks, and try to be the best fathers to their children they can manage. Like the characters on Firefly, they are flawed, of course, as we all are (even lesbian feminist sisters). But taking their flaws into consideration, even the ones who get closest to being feminists (I doubt the rant writer would allow that anything with a penis could actually be a feminist, regardless of captialization) balk at the idea that their sexuality is inherently evil, immoral, and oppressive. Nor do they want to give up their porn.

Men like porn. We need porn, as a gender. And men won’t give up their porn even when there’s a state-imposed death penalty for its possession. That’s not a cultural affectation, that’s a human universal, part of the male sexual psyche that’s basic to us. We can’t put it away any more than women can put away maternal instinct. We can mitigate the need, but somehow I think a world full of sexually-repressed men would not lead to the Feminist lesbotopia the rant writer imagines. Men are driven by sex in a way most women are not, and that’s not a flaw – it’s part of who we are. We are who we are, and we will always be so. Feminism needs to accept that fact if it wants to move on to any meaningful change in our society. Some small-f sex-positive feminists are doing just that, and change is happening. The rant writer, on the other hand, has inspired nothing but contempt – not for her gender, but for her misandranous, male-hating perspective on our gender.

Science fiction (often called Speculative Fiction) serves an important role in our culture: it shows us the possibilities of our future, in a variety of ways. One way is the socialist-utopia of Star Trek, where everyone wears gender-neutral spandex and only has sex on vacation. Another way is the Firefly method, where real, honest-to-goodness problems in our own society (like a woman’s turmoil at the necesity of dividing her loyalites between career and family, as Zoe experiences, or a woman’s struggle to define herself as independent and still enjoy a healthy sexuality, as Inara experiences) are dealt with by real, deeply flawed, deeply human characters in bad situations.

That’s the art of the TV show (see, I told you I’d get back to it). Firefly took nine very real characters with baggage and flaws and hopes and fears and it put them through the wringer of a wild and unpredictable life, to see where they would end up. It wasn’t always pretty, and it wasn’t always clean, and it was frequently bloody – but real life is like that, too. And that’s the value of science fiction in general, and Firefly in particular: it is through the flaws and the mistakes and the injustices it portrays that the art of inspiring a depth of feeing shines through. And if the rant writer can’t get a handle on that, then she should find some secluded Lesbotopia Paradise Island of Amazon Women of her own where she need never be bothered by a Y chromosome again.

And I'm not even going to get into Kaylee. Can of worms, there.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Aurora Snow: Porn MILF






I've been in lust with Aurora Snow since I saw her first appearance in one of Ed Powers' noted series, Dirty Débutantes. I liked her instantly as the shy nerdy girl who didn't hesitate to get freaky when the mood struck her. Recently I've been worried about Aurora, though: I thought that she, like many girls after being in the business for a few years, would quietly "retire". Aurora's no slouch in the industry -- she was an AVN Performer of the Year way back when, and recent appearances in the Brady Bunch, Not Bewitched XXX, and Star Trek porn parodies have been outstanding. And since I'm a fan, I wildly push anything I see her in. I have to admit, I loved her old nose (I don't know for a fact that she's gotten a nose job, but either way she's still beautiful) and she knows how to screw, a rare combination in porn these days. I count meeting her on the last day of last year's AVN show as my personal highlight. She's very down-to-earth in person, and absolutely lovely, the sweetest pornstar-next-door you'd ever want to meet.

But I didn't know she could write well. I came across this little article in the Daily Beast, about how she has made the transition from Nymph to MILF in ten short years, and I was pleased to see that she still has a generally favorable view of the industry that leaves so many jaded, disillusioned, or broken all together. Porn is a tough business for just about everyone involved, and these days its only gotten tougher. And when I saw that Aurora Snow was worried about being cast as a MILF, I wanted to reassure her: While it might feel rough to be considered a MILF at 28, MILFiness covers a wide range of ages (as seen on this MILF-related blog) and is one of the few niches in porn to see steadily increasing interest. MILF titles sell about as well or better than "fresh faces" titles, indicating a certain sense of sophistication emerging among the average wanker.

But Aurora should feel secure about her job: I'm thrilled that she's considered an (albeit young) MILF, and hope she continues to give the outstanding performances we've all come to expect. I know I, for one, am rooting for her hard, even with hot talent like Alexis Texas, Kagney Lynn Karter, Bree Olson and Teagan Presley around, I am pleased that we'll see her moving from Outrageous Bombshell to tranquil Sex Kitten status. Not that the girl can't hold her own with the big blondes, but Aurora always had a more intimate, sensitive side. one of the things I always appreciated about her performances was the complete sincerity and authenticity she brought with her. I swear by Aphrodite, if I ever get the chance to cast a porn flick myself, you can bet I'll do my damndest to put this sultry hottie to work.

And the fact she can write a coherent and well-constructed sentence? I've never been hornier for her than after reading that article. You not only still got it, girl, you got more of it than most of these fresh pussies will ever have.

Call me!

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Porn V. Romance


Men like porn. Women like romance. Thus runs the conventional wisdom.

Porn is exploitive to women. Romance is good harmless fun. Thus runs the conventional wisdom.

Men treat women as sex objects. Women treat men as valuable partners in a relationship with no expectations or unreasonable demands. Thus runs the conventional wisdom.

As a porn-loving, sex-loving red-blooded heterosexual male, I find this a frustrating dichotomy. That doesn't mean I'm a slope-browed Neanderthal ready to drag any convenient woman back to my cave (I'm not in college any more, after all). No, I like relationships, I'm in a fabulous one that has lasted 19 years this past Sunday, and I'm probably one of the more romantic guys I know. But I like porn and I like sex, so to a lot of women out there, I'm a beast and an exploiter with unrealistic expectations of women in the bedroom.

Bullshit.

I came across a great blog post on the subject from the Ms. Naughty Porn For Women Blog (love it!), with the question "Why isn't there romance out there for men?" I was stumped by this, until I realized something. There is romance out there for men. It's called porn.

Okay, I can hear you screeching already that porn and romance are miles apart in so many ways that even mentioning them on the same page is suspect. But both media are designed to elicit an erotic response in the audience. Some might argue that romance has more merit because it deals with character and plot and motivation and feelings and life and all of that, while porn is the one-dimensional portrayal of a singular physical act, bereft of emotion and meaning. How can it be art, how can it even be entertainment, the cry goes, if it doesn't focus on these women as people, first?

But I would argue that those issues are largely of strong importance to women, not to men. Give the average male one of the better romance novels out there, and he'll end up shaking his head in disgust about the grossly unrealistic portrayals of the men in them, and if he's got a brain at all he might even start to realize something he's always suspected: that women in these books -- and by extension the women who read these books -- place a high value on men who they can economically and emotionally exploit.

That's a kind of devastating revelation for most men, believe it or not. While most women in our culture feel justified in their revulsion of being objectified by porn and it's cognates, say beer commercials and Hooter's, they think nothing of doing exactly the same thing to men, only using economic data instead of perceived prettiness, sexual availability and cup size. No man wants to think that a woman is just after him for his money, or his title, his tangible symbols of success. But if you take a good, long look at the dominant form of sexual entertainment women enjoy, the stuff that really gets to the dark heart of their fantasies, there's a thin veneer of sex over a massive desire for a credit check on perspective guy.

I have a good female friend of mine who was, until recently, single. She played the dating game pretty hard core, since she'd already had one failed marriage behind her, and she didn't want to repeat any mistakes. So I helped her get out there and get dating again after the divorce, because I'm nice like that, and after a few weeks she was back in the game.

Only when I checked in on her, I was appalled by what I found. This woman had always been adamantly anti-porn, insisting that it degraded and exploited women on the basis of their physical appearance and sexual availability. How could a man really get to know a woman, she complained, when he wouldn't date anyone in a B-minus cup size? Or with too big a nose? Or with any other of a hundred perceived physical flaws? It was unfair, she'd say, over and over again. It was unfair and it was wrong, and institutions like cheerleaders, Hooter's waitresses, strippers and pornstars purposefully poisoned the well for the rest of women by portraying standards of beauty that most women had no hope of achieving. I could see that, I suppose. If I was a flat-chested woman with an unfortunate face and a big ass, I might get a little grumpy about the buxom blonde who serves beer sans bra. I mean, isn't that every man's fantasy? (I tried to show her that no, it wasn't every man's fantasy, and probably not even a plurality's ultimate fantasy, but she refused to consider that).

But when I checked in on her, I found her screening her dates based on far more rigorous standards than mere penile size. I got to watch her in action one day when a new internet date popped up. She made a cautious, general inquiry, got his name and address, and promised to meet him for coffee. Then the real work began . . .

Within moments she had run his credit report, gotten verification of employment, evaluated his career path and speculated about his earning potential over a five-year period. She researched which high school and college he went to. She found out his parents' names and addresses and evaluated their home to establish their approximate net worth. She ran a criminal background check in both our town and his hometown. Next she had a Google maps aerial shot of his home, ran a search to verify that he owned it (but was pissed when she couldn't find out how much equity he had), speculated about how much left he had to pay on student loans assuming his initial starter salary in his field was x and that he had proceeded up the ladder at rate y . . . you get the picture. Before the Starbucks had even touched her lips, she knew more about this guy than a Secret Service background check would reveal.

I didn't just find this obsessive, I found it creepy. I thought it was an appalling aberration and quietly mentioned to my wife how our friend needed to invest in some therapy. Then my wife floored me by wishing out loud that she had access to those kinds of resources back when we were dating. I almost left the room in disgust.

This is the thing, ladies: you cannot criticize the false expectations and essentially exploitive nature of porn, and the powerful role it plays in the development of male sexual psychology, unless you're also willing to admit the false expectations and essentially exploitive nature of soap operas and romance novels. Does seeing a big-titted blonde writhe around in her panties while she proclaims how aroused she is make you mad? Well, seeing a successful businessman who's ecstatic waiting fifteen minutes after the dinner reservation for a date with a primped-out "strong, intelligent, caring and universally desirable woman", only to declare his love for her, insist that they wait for marriage to have sex, and offer to support her even though she has her own successful career turns my freakin' stomach.

The cartoon above spawned this whole tirade on the other blog, and I think it's worth studying. Because the two sides are equivalent, if not equivalently judged by our society. A woman can want her "prince" -- that is, a handsome, financial and/or careerwise successful man willing to risk all of his power and resources for her sorry little butt -- and be considered a "romantic idealist"; whereas when a man voices his desire for a "whore" -- that is, a reasonably attractive, sexually adventurous, sexually available woman without stifling inhibitions, hang-ups about sex, or an ungodly amount of relationship baggage -- we're considered "pigs". That is, when women follow their idealized fantasy, they are rewarded. When men follow ours, we are castigated and condemned.

That may not seem like a big deal to some of you, but I have sons. I don't want to see them exploited in the prime of their lives, no more than I want to see my daughter exploited. I plan on teaching them to be wary of the pernicious women out there who would treat them as “success objects”. I'll teach them that “So, where do you work?” is the moral equivalent of “So, how big are those boobs?” and “What kind of car do you drive?” is roughly the same as asking a woman, “So, what kind of birth control do you use?”. In essence, it's none of their damn business. Maybe you ladies don't think that how often you perform fellatio is a vital statistic worthy of making or breaking a relationship, but I assure you that it matters to a whole lot of men out there. About as much as most women desire their men to be gainfully employed. But inquiring about either subject on short acquaintance should be off-limits. You want to know how much that handsome guy you met in the bar last night makes? Then in the interest of fairness you should go ahead and tell him up front just how far you'll go on a first date before he invests one dime in the relationship. Fair is fair.

I do not want my boys falling prey to the same humiliating pop-culture exploitation of men that previous generations were exposed to, where a man is valued only for his abilities as a provider and his visible success, not his value as a human being. A woman doesn’t need to know how much a dude makes — or even if he has a job or still lives with his parents — before they decide whether or not to pursue a relationship with him, any more than a man needs to know whether or not a woman is open to the possibility of anal sex before he’s willing to pursue a relationship with her. Fair is fair.

Likewise, I'll condemn my single comrades' obfuscations about such things (and downright trickery) only when a woman is willing to give up all the cosmetics, clothing enhancements, and other obfuscations about her body and sexual availability. My wife was appalled when she found out a single male friend of ours was using other people's ATM receipts showing extremely high balances to give his number out to women. The dude works in a computer store. When he's out tom-catting, he has no compunctions about using whatever trickery necessary to get in a woman's pants -- without explicitly lying. I pointed out that he never claimed that was his ATM receipt, he just provided them with the information and they drew their own conclusions. My wife wasn't impressed.

So then I asked her if her single friends would agree to go out on a blind date with a guy they knew up front was only average-looking, who worked in a computer store with no hope of advancement, and who considered comic books and superhero figures as worthy investments in his future. She scoffed, of course. No woman in her right mind would date such an obvious loser, not unless she was desperate. They wouldn't, she assured me, even dress up much for a date like that, since they didn't need to impress a guy they had no intention of seeing again. Oh, he might be good for a date, but I couldn't seriously expect her pals to risk their hearts and tender parts on a guy who, let's face it, just wasn't going anywhere in life?

Why the double standard? So I asked her, If the dude was a real "prince", with limousines and a stock portfolio and real estate holdings, would her friends dress out then? Yes. Oh, mais ouis! Would they put a little effort into their cosmetics and clothes? Of course! Would they consider hiding their blemishes with cosmetics, concealing their saddle bags under Spanks, hoisting their boobs up in frilly bras that countered gravity, put their butts in the air with 4 inch heels that made their legs look great -- essentially all the traditional "feminine wiles" stuff that women spend so much time learning -- well, of course, if the guy was a "real prince" then every effort should be made. And if that didn't work, then lying to him outright about just about anything was acceptable, as long as they agonized about the guilt later.

But using a fake ATM receipt was deceitful and misleading, in her eyes.

Only it's not. Women can use the oppression meme and throw all the equality crap out the window and get away with it. But when men stand up for our sexual self-interest, we're monsters.

So, let's be blunt about this, shall we? Ladies, if you'll be our insatiable whore, then we'll be your handsome prince. Anything less on either side, and, well, I think we'll have to take it to arbitration.