Category Archives: Ranty ones
Two things: top sex blogs and offensive British swearwords
Two things this week starts with a veritable treasure-trove of smut – the top sex blog lists. It’s that time of year when you get to nominate your favourite sex blogs, and nosily trawl through other people’s nominations to find more hot stuff to read. I also found a seriously weird and interesting piece of research on offensive British swearwords, so at the bottom of this post there’s a little analysis of which words are most likely to get you tutted at if you’re visiting the Queen for tea. Let’s go.
What is ‘sexy’, according to Google?
Every now and then I like to Google the word ‘sexy’ to see what comes up. I’m not just bad at finding porn – I’m mostly interested because Google’s algorithms are often an interesting insight into the way people view the world. Google, to a certain extent, reflects what we find sexy today. On top of that, it often feeds back into itself, and in turn shapes what we’ll find sexy tomorrow.
The image above is what came up when I googled ‘sexy’ today. Let’s see what this tells us.
Two things: Doxy comp and McVities girls’ night in
Woo! Start of the week! That means you get to throw all last week’s mistakes into the bin and be reborn as a better person. That’s what I like to think, at any rate. In ‘two things‘ this week we’re starting with the good stuff: a competition in which you can win a Doxy die cast, as well as £100 to spend on more amazing sexy things. Then we’ll move on to something that annoyed me: the McVities ‘girls’ night in’ advert.
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Two things: consent apps and hardcore panda sex
Point-missing app developers SaSie have come up with a new ‘affirmative consent app’ – one of many sexual consent apps that fundamentally misunderstand the nature of consent, or the ways in which humans work. That fills the ‘bad news’ column in this week’s ‘Two things‘, but if you’re after some much better news, scroll down to the bottom for some hardcore panda sex.
Fucking on the sofa
I hate my sofas. I hate them with every single fibre of my being. I hate them more because I should have anticipated the problems I have had with them, and left them to rot in Marks and Spencer where they belonged. With their shitty sleek design and their evil spindly legs. And their squeaky, ill-placed, uncomfortable cushions.
I cannot fuck on my sofa. And although this might sound like an entitled whine (it is), I want you to be able to learn from my mistakes if you can. Never ever ever buy a sofa you cannot fuck on.