Best Bouncers in the World

In 1999, the trampoline was added to the gymnastics competition in the Olympic games. I can't say that I've been following the Beijing Olympics closely or that I even turn my TV on very often, but I'm definitely enamoured with trampolines. :)

Here's a slo-mo video of the men's competition. (I couldn't find any footage of the 2008 Beijing women's competition - *sigh*)



And a compilation of various trampoline competitions. (Warning - this video has music.)


I know fun when I see it and this frankly ROCKS! Weeeeeeeeeee! :)

The dog-cloning dominatrix?

My first advert on the net was a breezy, whimsical story about cloning my dog. It received mostly positive interest with just 2 emails saying "I think dog-cloning is outrageous. You should be ashamed of yourself!" giggle (You can read the original story here.)

This week, another dog-cloner was ID'ed as possibly being the former captor to an imprisoned Mormon missionary she held for her dominatrix-esque desires. Her pix with her 5 cloned pit bull puppies drew the attention of the Utah filmmaker who had made a documentary about the 1970's case that has remained unsolved - perhaps until now. In reference to the suspected kidnapper's feelings for her sex slave she said: "I loved him so much," she told a judge, "that I would ski naked down Mount Everest in the nude with a carnation up my nose if he asked me to." You can read the entire article here.

A Peek Inside: Roleplay (long)

Role-playing is pretty much a guaranteed good time. Scenarios run from the simple to the whimsically elaborate.

Simple would be: You're Wonder Woman. I'm Superman. GO!

Below is a much more elaborate seed for a role-play. The author - an accomplished, creative gentleman I admire immensely - has enthusiastically agreed to allow me to post this. I think it's star-ship fantastic - perhaps even more so because I know the author and am familiar with his sense of humor and sensibilities. It does nicely illustrate that, in these matters, one is really only limited by the scope of the imagination. (Some fantasy details have been tweaked to protect the innocent. :-)

The text of his letter to me follows below.
-------------------
You, Pricilla Goldbergerstein, a vivacious blond known to your many friends and fans as "Prissy", are a judge on the hit TV reality show "America's Got Talent." I'm a contestant. After making it through the first elimination round and being in the running for the finals to be held in Vegas, we happen to run into each other at City Hall, an upscale steakhouse in Phoenix. You live in Los Angeles and are in Phoenix for a celebrity appearance. I live in Phoenix. You're planning on having dinner. I'm dining on the the little wieners in sweet sauce.

My act in the "America's Got Talent" competition is that of an exotic male dancer (a la Chippendale's), an unusual act for the show, since most contestants are singers, dancers, jugglers, ventriloquists, munchausened miscreant knife throwers, dog handlers or tuba-playing transgendered teenagers. But of course, I don't take all my clothes off in the competition the way I do when I work the weekends at the Olympic Gardens strip club in Vegas. Yes, I have a big one, hence my stage name, "Mucho Gigante Geoffrey", or "MGG Money" to my friends.

Although the audience loved me in the early rounds, I'm a long shot to get to the finals in Vegas and I know it. I really need to get there because I desperately need the career boost and the money, and I'm horribly deficient in self-esteem, and I may lose custody of my kids in my divorce if I don't soon go mainstream with my dancing. (I also salsa dance but no one cares to see that *wink*.....even if I'm doing some Shakira and "her hips don't lie as she's startin' to feel me babe.")

So I just need to get to the finals.....I don't need to win. And of course, as a male dancer, I'm not real popular with the two male judges, so I need your vote.

Anyway, you're a former "Mouseketeer" and soap star who is one of "America's Sweethearts" and you have a squeaky-clean G-rated celebrity image (not to be confused with the Spot, a place as yet undiscovered in your body.) You're very attracted to me and, as I am attempting to seduce you, you realize the power you have to make me please you in any way you demand. Power corrupts and power corrupts Prissy absolutely.

I'm quite experienced in sensing what women want. I know you're complicated and have celebrity-induced insecurities and that you need to feel and act dominant, but in some respects, you also need to be subservient.....perhaps treated a little roughly and talked to with (just a little) dirty talk.

So you agree to dine with me and I come on to you, offering a private dance performance and more. But you think of Paula Abdul with that young male contestant on "Idol" and you start to pull back. You think of your marriage to your high school sweetheart, your two teenage daughters and what it would do to them, as well as your image, if we are discovered.

But then you realize you can have any fantasy you want fulfilled by me and it's brand new and so overwhelming. You sense I know how to please a woman and you become quite vocal on what you would want because Prissy is NOT taking this kind of risk for a MEDIOCRE erotic experience.

(Secretly, and unknown to me, you have a kinky side. For instance, you often masturbate in the guest bathroom of your own house during your many dinner parties and then (in your afterglow) you flirt unmercifully with both your male and female dinner guests.....even to the point of touching them casually with the same un-washed hand that was just in your most private parts.)

We continue to dine and talk and you are so turned on but desperately trying to remain in control. You are just full of the notion that for once, Prissy will be the one to tell a guy exactly what she needs and to demand total subservience from him. For maybe the last time in your life, you have an opportunity to explore your sexual self. And you deserve it. You've repressed your desire for men like me, as well as for the many hot women that have come onto you because you are Prissy. You want to taste the men, you want to taste the women, you want to dominate and be dominated.....you want to be entirely Prissy!

I continue to tell you that all you need is the courage to ask....I will do anything, do everything, talk to you the way you need, degrade myself, whatever, to get to the Vegas finals. I will go so far as to present MGG$ to you in your hotel room like a piece of meat to be examined, if necessary.

And you continue to test the waters, telling me exactly how it would go if we were together, what you want, step-by-step from the beginning to the end, telling me what I would need to do, if given this opportunity.

You are only in Phoenix for one night and you must now decide whether to take MGG$ back to the Phoenician, or spend another night masturbating and wondering if your husband, Rex, is really who you think he is. Hoping in some ways that he is not, and being mindful that there have been some odd occurrences over the years. Like the Playgirl magazine you found, his insistence on male masseuses when the two of you visit resort spas, his hints that a strap-on might be fun for the two of you, and the way spittle forms on his lips when he watches the male Olympic diving competition.

Dinner is over. It's showtime now, girl. Is Prissy a player or just an observer?

Sell that ring to heal thy heart

You're young and in love and frolicking like wombats around the vernal equinox and then, suddenly, it just all falls ugly. You and your SO have just arrived at Splitsville and this time, you know it's for real. Now, you've got a pocketful of jewelry, salted with your tears, that you can't bare to wear and they refuse to reclaim it. GULP. Take a week to cry, rant, throw stuff, (but definately not email them) and then sell that metal online, if it'll help you, Phoenix rising. Exboyfriendjewelry.com makes that pain just a teensy bit more tolerable for both boys and girls, wronged in the sport of love.

Stiffen up with Watermelon

I know, I know. The results of one scientific study don't make it fact, but this little gem is just too juicy to ignore. Researchers at Texas A&M University have discovered nutrients in watermelon that have some of the same effects as Viagra. How much watermelon do you have to consume to be a new local legend? That remains unclear but I'd guess switching to watermelon-tini's will make you lose Romeo-points, not gain them, at the bar. Vodka-spiked watermelon slices may be the more manly option. *wink* You can read more about the study here.

Eating to reveal her beauty

It's baaaack! Eating sushi off of a beautiful body. It was a brief dining phenomenon in trend-hungry circles in the states a few years back and then it just as quickly faded from the common consciousness. Well, it's back in West Hollywood, CA and fun for both girls and boys. Hadaka Sushi offers nyotamouri (body sushi) either at their restaurant or in the privacy of your own home. Expensive - yes. Prices start just above $1000 and quickly blossom when drinks, desserts and appetizers are added. Brilliant idea though and I'm glad it's resurfaced. You come for the sushi and keep eating for the view. Sexy and delicious. Douzo meshiagare!

Let's test the mattress!

Most hotel guests get a better night's sleep if they don't start wondering about the people that have stayed in the room before them. Other visitors shamelessly post evidence of their hotel room antics on the net. Nope, it's not what you think. It's bed-jumping! Click here for pics.

Is that Oscar I smell?

Film industry trendsetters - take note. I know that adolescent hi-jinks are guaranteed a chuckle from some members of the movie-going audience. I'm thinking specifically of the apparently obligatory "jewel crush" scene, paraded once (if not more) through almost every adolescent-centric comedy. A man brought to his knees from a swift slam to the family jewels. A fall on a fence post, a punch from a toddler, a slide down a banister - pick your poison. It's a quickly-forgotten snicker. A cheap, uncomfortable laugh. The scenes are virtually ubiquitous in some film comedies and I understand that.

But what I propose is the following.

Why don't you, titans of the film industry, work together to make another type of scene just as ubiquitous and obligatory in future films, for those among us who don't giggle at crotch-crushing? Something a little racier, a little sexier, a bit dangerous, pulse-quickening and, quite frankly, one of my secret fetishes! I'm speaking of ......... women in fountains. YAY! Now, I'm not referring to the G-rated jig as seen in the opening credits of the 90's TV sit-com "Friends." I'm more interested in slow-motion, screaming-sex exhibitionism, best exemplified by Sherilyn Fenn in her party seduction scene from the 1993 dark obsession film "Boxing Helena."



Original Fountain Song (Boxing Helena)
Uploaded by Meowbay

What a saucy temptress. Mmmmrroooooooowwwwwww!

So I'm publicly appealing to the Hollywood, Bollywood, and Any-other-wood elite to please bombard the movie-eating public with more scenes of women in fountains. I promise you - we can handle it or, gosh darn, we'll do our best trying! We're up for THAT struggle! So, please overwhelm us ........ so much so, that one day in the future, we just might lament to our friends, "Yup, there's yet another sultry, must-see film with the obligatory woman-in-a-fountain scene. Sigh - I miss the simple j-crush......."

Earth's Largest Instrument

David Byrne, ex-frontman of the Talking Heads, has rigged up the landmark Battery Maritime building in NYC and transformed it into the world's largest instrument, played with a keyboard. Fantastic! Among other things, wires and pipes run from the back of the keyboard to different parts of the building, causing parts of the infrastructure to creak, moan, rumble, howl and more. I've heard a bit of the results and I'd liken it to the spooky sounds of monsters in a basement dungeon. Not for everyone of course, but Byrne obviously continues to produce innovative sound projects. Best of all, you can play the keyboard and participate in this noisy adventure yourself! Closes Aug 10, 2008. You can read more here.

Simmons on Girls for Hire

Gene Simmons, of KISS fame, has an upcoming book entitled "Ladies of the Night: A Historical and Personal Perspective on the Oldest Profession in the World." Co-written with Julie McCarron, the book begins "back in the day" with cave culture (Babe, why don't you hunt for that wooly mammoth this morning and I will ROCK your world tonight) and progresses all the way to where we find ourselves today. I just might pick up a copy, if only to better understand how the public's perception of the dance has changed over the millenia. Credit goes to Simmons for approaching the topic as a matter of self-empowerment for women. You can read an interview with Gene about the book here and pre-order the book via Amazon. Release date: July 7, 2008.