You’ve seen it. At first, you’re the most beautiful couple in town. Time passes. You get comfortable. You stop using so much product. You stop wearing makeup unless you’re planning to go out. You stop going to yoga. You don’t need to impress one another! You love each other as you are! You are just fine sitting on the couch watching reruns. A few extra pounds here, a few there… more to love! … Continue Reading
Patrón knows how bummery it can be to worry about what you’re doing on Valentine’s Day, so they’re throwing you a line. A chocolate-coffee line. No, this isn’t some unholy partnership with Starbucks, but it could be if you took out all the sugary nonsense from your mochaccino. Oh, yes. XO Cafe Dark Cocoa is hardcore. It has no use for that sweetness. Picture the booze power of Patrón Silver rushing through a field of coffee and cocoa beans.
Ali Carter in a whipped cream bikini in Varsity Blues. We can’t remember what the movie was about, but we will never forget the whipped cream bikini. It looks awkward now, laughable. We’ve graduated from cherry-nipples and a huge triangle-shaped covering down there.
Lucky for us, whipped cream has graduated, too. … Continue Reading
The internets run on bacon. This we know. What we also know is that the obsession has engendered a variety of products, from bacon-flavored lip balm to bacon-flavored vodka. In view of this and the apparent fascination with mixing food with sex, we weren’t surprised to encounter the following item: bacon-flavored lubricant. … Continue Reading
Our editrix gets some interesting fan mail. We’ve seen everything from dick shots to Starr Report-length poems, to family heirlooms and comic books. Every once in a while, though, someone sends in something worth sharing with the world and this is one of those times, thanks to @hustvedt. Introducing a cocktail for the summer:
Redneck in Furs
A small piece of peeled ginger
A few raspberries
.5 oz simple syrup
1.5 oz moonshine
Ice … Continue Reading
You don’t have to add “in bed” to the end of the fortune in the cookie any longer.
Introducing Spam Fortune Cookies — and no, they’re not made out of SPAM. Allow them to explain themselves for your benefit:
A wise man once said: ‘The best advice you can get is the advice you don’t want to hear.’ If that’s true, then the more unwanted it is, the better it must be — right? So, logically, unsolicited bulk email messages must contain the greatest advice of all time. Combine this flawless reasoning with a delicious after-dinner cookie and you have a source advice unmatched by anything else in the world.
Every $9.00 package contains 20 cookies, each with some insane spammy message the likes of which you haven’t seen since you upgraded your spam filters.
You will be amused.
Image from the xkcd Store. Via Breadpig.
Brooks Bayne is a typical L.A. slasher: he’s an entrepreneur, technologist and conservative thinker who spends most of his time poking fun of liberals and satirizing popular culture on Twitter.
His antics have garnered the Tennessee transplant over 100,000 followers on the popular social media platform — and he’s going strong.
We like him because his gun-toting, BBQing, in-your-face approach to everything from work to play reminds us of what an alpha male used to be, before we watered him down and made him fat free, soy organic.
We asked him what his secret was and he imparted something spectacular to us: the recipe for his infamous bacon-vanilla shake.
3 cups Breyer’s vanilla ice cream
2-3 pieces of extra crispy bacon
1/4 cup half and half
Blend away and serve in a manly glass. You’re welcome.
Image by Yesica.
Have you ever slept with more than one person at once and thought, “oh, God, if I could just put A’s epic blowjobs and her long legs and B’s love of anal and massive Rolodex on C’s sense of humor, pop culture prowess and tits, I’d have the ideal woman…”
We’re like that about breakfast here at Sex and the 405. We like our coffee and we love our bacon. And guess what? Now we can have both — at once. And you can too!
Allow us to introduce you to Boca Java Maple Bacon Morning ($7.49), a coffee that brings you the fine flavor of bacon and maple syrup all in one caffeinated gulp.
Information via UrbandDaddy.
There are two things our American culture taints, and therefore brands: sex and food. We are one of the most conservative, precautious cultures, and it manifests in our bedrooms and our food system, blanketing our libidos and over-salting our plates. Numbing our appetites. While brining ourselves in this stage of economic heat, we should stop conforming to synthetic standards just to become more obsessed with either breaking or abiding by them. We should let fresh ideas roll off and into our mind, hearts, and tongues, and start exploring the possibilities of liberated pleasure.
In the 19th century, an American, vegetarian, and dietary reformist named Sylvester Graham doctored up some wheat and molasses to cure masturbation. Ta-da, the flat, brown, very anti-phallic graham cracker was born. He believed a diet heavy in bland foods would keep our dicks in our pants, thus preventing degenerative diseases.
You know those Kellogg’s corn flakes you eat in the morning? They were originally concocted by Mr. John Harvey Kellogg himself, a follower of Graham, as a dietary remedy for sexual excitement. So if you ingest and invest in these common isle 9 gems and ever want to get a hardon again, you better sprinkle your cereal with some drippy looking oysters. Kellogg supposedly even had his nurse administer a daily enema to “detox.” Ironically, this penetrated his anus, filling the void. Cheater. These men preferred these suppressive carbohydrate products to pure meats, eggs, sugars, alcohol, anything perhaps of taste. Special K, anyone?
In 17th and 18th century Europe, Europeans were deflowering artichokes, ripping off their tender leaves to expose and eat the soft heart center for aphrodisiac purposes. In even earlier ages, the Aztecs were drinking massive amounts of liquid chocolate to their belief that it would prepare their bodies for massive orgies. The ancient Greeks ended their days by sucking the femininely pink insides out of delicate figs. The Italians were just short of flat-out fucking their food. Oh, and the Romans were banging each other in the Vomitoriums. These societies were loving the sexy hand food dealt their culture, not dismissing it in favor of wheat germ and soft core applesauce. Not to mention these maniacs drank wine all day long. And still do.
Food and sex ensure a culture’s survival. Our society is still fairly conservative when it comes to sex; it condemns many things taboo. However, this unorthodoxy seemingly arouses us and just causes ignorance and pre-ejaculation. Here are a few reasons why our culture needs to be fucked really hard:
Today, Americans are dealing with a perverse culture of mass food manufacturers (who are obviously taking out their sexual frustrations on our food) who make over-processed food home to E.verything Coli. Our food is becoming systematically cookie-cutter and is produced so that farms don’t raise livestock anymore, they just raise food. There is no sensual, story-telling tangibility to our food. The nudity is missing. Variety is the spice of life, and we have none in our grocery stores due to big name manufacturers monopolizing every recognizable label.
We nourish our bodies, our baby making machines, with this stuff. Until our food becomes honest again and Americans start taking more of an interest in what they consume, then we are fucked. And not in the good way. We are deliriously bored considering our over-stimulated, constipated American lifestyle. Is the only way to overcome this to give ourselves a morning enema filled with mojo?
To get past first base we must accept that pleasure is not always a derivative of guilt, especially when it comes to eating and sex. May exploiting our numbed tastebuds and taking pride in our pleasure permit us to choose and enjoy a fine piece of grass-fed meat, pink in the center.
Brooke Newberry is a Taurus and pleasure seeker from North Carolina. She has eaten her way through Europe and is now ravenously swallowing the southern coast of California, pursuing pleasure in all the dusty corners of the world — especially those in the kitchen. She gets off on feeding people and food porn is her favorite genre. Her motto is to be satiated — in the belly, in the bedroom, and in life.
Image by epSos.de.
Let’s get the basics of Hollywood out of the way. You’ve got a date. And you thought you’d show your theatrical side by getting tickets to The Pantages but cannot for the life of your true hipster self think of where to take your glam gal.
It’s your first date with this particular lady, and you’d rather err on the side of enchanting than chintzy.
Well, we’ve got the perfect spot for you. Yes, it may be on Hollywood Blvd., but that’s part of your contradiction, your mystery. We’re not talking feasts, here, we’re talking exotic finger food. You won’t find any spicy tuna — or sushi for that matter — only sashimi. It’s tres minimalist chic. Welcome to East Hollywood.
Start out with an obscenely delicious salad made with warm spinach, arugula, shiitake mushrooms, duck confit and Bali pepper tossed in sherry vinaigrette — all topped with crispy pancetta and roasted young candy beets. Oh sweet, savory salad…
Imagine oysters on the half-shell with Vietnamese mignonette, yuzu gelée & pickled onion. Oh, salacious sours…
Slurp scallops on the half with lemon grass sambal, wasabi créme fraîche, shiso dust & micro cilantro. Oh, succulent seafood…
Effortlessly show your refined and discriminating palate while showing you can pick a place with style. It’s a snap.
She’ll be on your arm as you meander towards the theater.
Just remember to check with the lucky lady before you hang up your pre-date phone call: “You’re not allergic to seafood, are you?”
Want more info? Read the full review at e*Star LA.
Photos by Andrew Herrold.
Esther (@estarla) is a celebrated Los Angeles food blogger and our go-to gal in all matters of where to take a date when you want to hit the town.
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