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Fan Letter to Sir M

May 4, 2010 Daisy, Diary No Comments

Dear Sir M,

I’m writing you a fan letter to tell you how much i admire, respect and enjoy You, Sir. You allow me to be fearless. That has brought out dormant powers in me and inspired other powers i never knew i had, Sir! You are an amazing teacher and i have much yet to learn from You, Sir.

This is an excerpt from a letter I wrote to Sir M after a particularly fun-filled all-nighter at our favorite dungeon. He had inspired me to perform all sorts of naughty acts for his entertainment… and my pleasure.

Don’t break the furniture

It was a quiet night there and Sir M and I were among the only pairs playing in the large dungeon room so we attracted a sizeable audience. He chained me up to a slant board and played with me roughly, teased me, slapped, paddled and flogged me.

He’s been trying to train me to not scream and make so much noise during BDSM play but that’s very hard for me. To keep from screaming I’d rattle the chains and hit the cuffs of the arm restraints against the board to work the pain out of my body. With intense sensations like that, I often stomp, scream, beat my hands on something or curse.

“Don’t break the furniture!” he yelled as I banged the cuffs.

He prodded and scratched me with a sharp, insanely deadly knife, drawing long scratches down my body. This elicits fear and the anticipation of pain, more than actual pain. But it is enough of a mind-fuck to terrify me so my basic survival instincts kick in and adrenaline floods my system.

He turned me around and whipped me with a long leather strap that tapers at the end with a hard cracker that adds a sting after the initial slap.

I screamed out, “I hate you!” Of course we both knew that wasn’t true.

After the scene

After our scene I redressed and sat on the floor with my head nestled in his lap. I purred and he petted my head.

“I don’t hate you.”

“I know,” he answered.

A female switch we knew passed by and said she was going home. A switch is someone who likes to do both roles — top and bottom, or Dominant and submissive. I gave her butt a friendly spank. She arched her back.

“Better to hit my ass on this lower part here.”

She patted her ass to explain.

Then she decided to demonstrate on me — with Sir M’s permission. I stood up, pulled off my clothes again and bent over onto his lap.

“Feel the difference between when I spank you here… and there.”

She spanked me very sensually, rubbing the insides of the butt cheeks and groin area. Sometimes her finger darted inside me, manipulated the soft tissue and then brought the wetness back out to lubricate my clit.

“Mmmm, your pussy is similar to mine — hot and tight, with a big clit and lots of spongy area inside.”

Sir M spurred her on.

“Spank her harder!”

She slapped the lower part of my butt cheeks and thighs with her hands straight in front to make it sting more. I grabbed Sir M’s thighs more tightly through his leather trousers and tried to breathe deeply.

“Are you ready to cum, bitch?” he whispered to me. I nodded weakly.

She slapped my ass one last time and then set to work to make me cum. She fingered my G-spot emphatically. Sir M leaned forward to play with one of my breasts. She leaned into me and played with the nipple piercing of the other breast with her free hand.

Sir M bellowed “CUM FOR ME….NOW!”

Much to the amazement of the female switch, I started gushing ejaculate. It rolled down my leg as she continued to finger me. Sir M has trained me to cum on command and I’m getting better at it — responding to the sound of his voice and his orders. The tone of his voice when he gives this order is so urgent and persuasive it makes me focus and try my hardest.

Afterward I cleaned up and dressed and assumed my position sitting on the floor at Sir M’s left. A female sub had been hovering and finally got up the nerve to speak to him. She asked if he might be able to train her. I looked up and stole a rare glance of his face. He was grinning, eyes sparkling.

She sat on the floor to his right and we both rested our heads on his thighs. He subtly guided our heads toward each other. Moments later she and I were making out in his lap. I caressed her thick blonde locks and she played with my hair and breasts. Sir M gazed down with a benevolent smile.

He ordered us to undress. She was a Rubenesque beauty, soft and curvy with a beautiful shape and smooth pale skin.

“Position 6!”

That was my order to lie on the floor with legs bent and pulled up to my sides. It is the position for pussy inspection.

“Lick her pussy!”

She obeyed and licked me skillfully, making me quiver and groan. Sir M hovered over us to get a closer look. He spanked her ass and held her down on me. She made cute little moans as she sucked my clit.

She and I traded shy grins, both enjoying this moment. I felt that gushy feeling of being on ecstasy and loving the world.

We wrestled and snuggled on the floor, right there in the main room. Some men had pulled up chairs for a better view. I could see she was getting a little overwhelmed so I kissed her and we redressed. She went outside for a post-coital smoke.

I rested my head on Sir M’s left thigh and beamed at him, thinking how lucky I am to have such a cool and powerful Dominant. Thinking about how much naughty fun we get into together. I realized that I want to be owned by him.

Advanced training

I’ve been in training with Sir M for close to four months. He has completed the physical portion of the training, and is now on to the psychological and intellectual portion of the training. We are now at the point of considering what my intentions are, and next steps.

In this time I’ve come to understand that Sir M is an extraordinary Dom and I still have much to learn from him. He has protected me and guided me away from the pitfalls that often confront newbies to the BDSM scene. I want to make a longer commitment and graduate from trainee to being his personal submissive.

Sir M is an old school Dom and follows rather high protocols for subs and slaves. So even though I’ve communicated my interest for a more permanent association, I will have to petition to become his sub.

The petition is the plea a submissive makes, outlining why they wish to be in service to that Dom. The intended outcome — I can proudly wear Sir M’s collar – signifying that I am his possession.

There will be further education, as I need to determine what kind of arrangement will suit me best. I will be researching and writing, hopefully in a convincing manner so that he will accept. Check my diary entries each Tuesday to see where this leads!

Daisy TraLaLA (@daisytralala) is a saucy Angelino kinkster who glides with ease between the worlds of tech, artDaisy TraLaLA, cuisine, electronica and dungeon parties. Check back every Tuesday for posts from her journey to the most divine surrender.

Thinking of You: The Right Name

May 3, 2010 lolz No Comments

We here at Sex and the 405 think it’s vital to let people know how much you adore them, so we’ve created a special new section showcasing the best of the web when it comes to showing your love.

This week’s jewel comes to you via someecards, the epitome of cool when it comes to e-cards.

Click to send one to someone you dig!


May 3, 2010 Diary, Nikki 1 Comment

I know how this works. I know how indecision pushes him to dilute his implications. I know all this shit very well. I like to say “let’s play it by ear.” He likes to say “let’s go with the flow.”

It’s my fault. I’m too easily drawn into fantasy and expectation these days. I want to find meaning in a look. I manipulate because I want the reaction, and then when I get it I can’t handle it. The problem is he turned out to be really cool and smart and could match me word for word. And fucking hot. I wanted him to be dumb and hot. I just wanted to fuck. I wanted it to be easy and cool. I didn’t want to know him. I didn’t want complications. I don’t want to feel jealous or insecure.

I really am a nice girl. I am sweet and everyone loves me. I inspire some kind of protective instinct in my friends. I try to be dirty and flirtatious and guys like it but I’m never brave enough to follow through.

But I want to fuck him. I want to be his good girl turned bad. I want him to pull my head back by my hair and I want his mouth on my neck, hard. I want his hands and mouth on my tits. I want his hand against my face when his cock is in my mouth. I want to gag when he pushes my head down and then I want to taste him when he comes, hot against my tongue, salty. I want to swallow, and swallow. I want him inside me hard, pushing up, deeper, slowly then faster.

I want to be sore the next day, and the next. I want to be fucked like a whore, like he’s paying for it. I want to feel him dripping out of me later, down the inside of my leg. I want to smell it in the shower. I want to be punished like I deserve it. I want to be marked.

So it’s a problem, and I don’t know if I want to risk it. And he’s ambivalent anyway. I’m used to getting what I want without very much effort. But it’s not working for me right now, and I’m frustrated and impatient and unsure.

I showed this to him and he said, “this could be an ongoing story.”

“I don’t know,” I said, “let’s play it by ear.”

Nikki Thomas was born and raised in Los Angeles. She was a straight A student who couldn’t follow the rules and spent as much time in the principal’s office as in the library. At university she opted not to join a sorority and instead filled her free time cruising Hollywood bars and parties, hooking up and getting down. Nikki is a bad girl with a heart of gold. These are her stories — consider it our Monday treat for you.

Tito Ortiz vs… Jenna Jameson?

May 3, 2010 Hollywoody, News No Comments

Martial arts star Tito Ortiz was arrested last Monday on charges of domestic violence at the home he shares with former porn star Jenna Jameson. According to TMZ, the police stated Jameson had “visible injuries.”

Jameson left the house with her father after Ortiz was taken in handcuffs. She told a TMZ photographer she would be pressing charges.

“I’m gonna be alright,” she said through tears. “My babies are alright. Everything’s OK. He’s in jail.”

Her babies are her twin sons with Tito Ortiz, Jesse Jameson Ortiz and Journey Jett Ortiz, born in 2009, three years after the couple got together in 2006 — through MySpace.

At that point, Jameson’s last tweet, posted on Sunday, indicated nothing was amiss: “Me and Tito are at Sushi on Fire!”

On Monday evening, Ortiz held a press conference with his attorney and his side of the story is conflicting to say the least. Ortiz’s attorney Chip Matthews said that Jameson, who has been battling an addiction to the pain-killer OxyContin for the past year, relapsed on the morning of the incident. Fox News elaborates:

According to Matthews, on Monday morning the UFC champ confronted his girlfriend (and mother of their twin boys) about the drugs he had found and she denied it. Jameson was allegedly suffering an “emotional breakdown”, prompting a 911 call from Jameson’s father Larry who was reportedly not in the room at the time of the confrontation.

[ ... Matthews] also insisted that the police do not have to have visible signs of injury to make an arrest in domestic disputes, and that the police report indicated that Jameson had “a scratch on her elbow” which may explain why she was photographed leaving a CVS pharmacy wearing a medical brace on her right arm just hours after the arrest.

Jameson, overwhelmed with responses from users on Twitter threatened to quit the microblogging platform, but quickly returned, tackling some of her more vociferous detractors and issuing a few comments regarding the incident:

CNN has since reported that Jameson said she wanted to get back with Ortiz on Friday; unfortunately, Ortiz will still be prosecuted because it was the state of California, and not Jameson, who filed the charges against the martial artist. A restraining order is currently preventing Ortiz and Jameson from reuniting.

Information from Fox411, Fox News, CNN.


May 2, 2010 Editrixial 2 Comments

The internets went crazy last week after an AlterNet article about women paying for sex started making the rounds.

Everyone freaked out. Why would women pay for sex?! They can get it for free!

Clearly anyone who is surprised to hear about this hasn’t had much experience within the sex or adult industries. Yes, it has to do with sex. But it’s more than sex, too.

It has to do with power.

With shows like Sex and the City, Desperate Housewives Lipstick Jungle, Gossip Girl and Cougartown, we’ve become very familiar with the older woman and younger man dynamic. Yes, younger men can match a older woman’s sexual intensity, longer, harder and faster. But there is an aspect that isn’t discussed and that is that the age difference often brings with it a power dynamic that is undeniable.

An older woman is established, she often has a career, connections and disposable income that her younger counterpart lacks. He can’t really be taken around. He’s her little guilty pleasure, confined to the outer boundaries of her life. He’s not her equal. She makes him her equal.

An older woman may decide to assist him in his career goals, or flat-out supplement his income. She may not hold this over his head, but she doesn’t have to. The dynamic is established. She holds the power. Whether she’s married or busy with her career or children, she chooses when she sees him. She chooses to make his career happen (Samantha Jones changed Smith Jared’s name, Nico Reilly destroyed Kirby Atwood’s career before she chose to salvage it). She chooses to financially help him out or not (Catherine Beaton bailed out Nate Archibald’s family).

Yes, there is sex in all of these situations. But the element of power and tacit control is absolutely undeniable. This is unpalatable, obviously, because it raises the question of exploitation. Is the cougar really so progressive or is she just exploitative?

It’s a good question. But I’m not here to point the finger at older women who are seeing younger men. I’m talking about power and power doesn’t discriminate based on age. So allow me another example within the sex and adult industries.

The suitcase pimp. If you have any familiarity with these industries, you’ve heard of this guy. If not, let me introduce you. In the ideal scenario, he’s a sort of full-time manager. In most scenarios, he’s the unemployed dude the girls come home to, and partially or totally support.

He’s ubiquitous. You ask yourself why — why would a porn star or a stripper or a hooker, who is paid so much to be watched or enjoyed, who is raking in mad cash, settle with a guy who did nothing for her?

One word: Power.

If you’ve never presented a human being to whom you were attracted a lavish gift, or assisted in their career success in some way, however covertly, and felt the rush, congratulations. You’re a saint.

You can say you did it just to see them smile, to spoil them a little because you can, but look inside yourself. Giving someone struggling in this economy something you know they cherish, and would have never splurged on either because they can’t afford it or because they’re responsible and know better, when to you picking up such a token costs nothing, is a statement of power.

So let’s cut the wide-eyed innocent bullshit and OMG media hype. This isn’t about women becoming empowered and beginning their takeover of an industry that previously only catered to men or about women getting the reigns and looking for interactions where they don’t have to worry about pleasing a man.

This is human beings doing what human beings do best: creating dynamics where they have power or at least the illusion of power.

I choose you. I pay you. I have you.

All women are doing by seeking sex workers instead of picking someone up at a bar is streamlining the process. Now get over it and move on.

Keifer Sutherland Gets Unruly At a London Strip Joint

May 2, 2010 Hollywoody, News 1 Comment

24 may be over, but Keifer Sutherland is still on a mission here and there. Most recently, the actor was spotted outside London’s Springfellows strip club at some ungodly hour of the morning, making a scene.

“He went bananas,” an unnamed source told The Sun. “Shouting nonsense and dancing like Peter Crouch before kicking off when asked to leave.”

Bouncers were forced to hustle the shirtless actor from the premises, wrestling him all the way to his car. Thirty minutes after finally getting him into the vehicle, our own Jack Bauer fell out of it in front of his hotel, “giggling and with his jacket unbuttoned.”

Um. Well, glad he had a good time. We hope he tipped all the dancers well.

Information from The Sun.

National Enquirer: Obama Cheating Scandal

And because we continue to expect our politicians to not be human, we’re all really surprised to learn that President Barack Obama may have been involved with a former campaign aide.

Per the National Enquirer, “a confidential investigation has learned that Obama first became close to gorgeous 35 year-old Vera Baker in 2004 when she worked tirelessly to get him elected to the US Senate, raising millions in campaign contributions.”

Baker has insisted nothing occurred between her and Obama, but “anti-Obama operatives” don’t buy it and are more than willing to pay over a million dollars to anyone who will come forward and say otherwise. There also appears to be a surveillance tape from the night of the alleged rendezvous in 2004 that people are looking to get their hands on.

Because, you know, that will prove there was an affair.

We think this whole thing is a waste of time — unless this surveillance tape turns out to be a sex tape, in which case our editrix will make us get it for her personal collection, so we hope not. Even so, we’re kind of glad that we live in such a gossip-mongering culture that “anti-presidential operatives” would much rather pay limo drivers for info than actually put a hit on the head of state.

Image from TMZ. Information from The National Enquirer.

Shall we discuss Giant Tits?

May 2, 2010 Diary, Raymond 1 Comment

Shall we discuss Giant Tits? Yes, Let’s.

We know the truth: it’s biological. Yet we leer and lean and stare. What are we staring at? Is it food? Is it fat? No, it’s biology.

It’s biology and biology is something you can’t control.

We can’t help it. We stare. We lean. We leer. We just… have to. Can’t help it.

It starts with the look. What we want is to touch, but we start with the look. Why do we want to touch them so so so much? Biology. Can’t help it.

So we look. If we’re smart we’re not caught looking by the one we’re with.

But let’s say we’re with no one.

Now we want to get caught just a little. We look. When they’re not looking at us, we gaze. If we’re smart, right when they start to feel that gaze, we look away. And now they’re looking at us.

They know that we looked, they always know that we looked. They get tired sometimes from all the looks. But we can’t help it. Which is why it’s best not to get caught looking.

But they know. Biology tells them so. The Giant Tits were being stared at once again, coveted once again.

We don’t think about it: the back pain, the weight carried around that makes it impossible to catch a basketball, the lines that carve into their skin from the bra lines.

We don’t think about the harassment, the intimidation, the fear of the young girl who grew before her time.

We don’t think about these things. It’s biology. All we think about are the Giant Tits.

So we stare. We lean. We leer.

And we hope to hold them in our hands… we hope to see them let loose so that they sway in front of our eyes… we hope to fuck them. It’s biology.

Can’t help it.

Raymond Burns is an esoteric indie film professional living in Los Angeles. Raymond is a social animal who loves every inch of the female form. He comprehensively appreciates the quiet aftermath of a woman’s orgasm. He hangs a bit to the left.

Kiss of the Weekend

May 1, 2010 Culture No Comments

We’re always up for some adrenaline-fueled kisses here at Sex and the 405, and there’s no better place to find these than at a high-stakes event like the Kentucky Derby, which occurred this weekend at Churchill Downs in Louisville, Kentucky.

Pictured here is jockey Calvin Borel, who rode Super Saver to victory on the track today, kissing his wife, Lisa.

Borel, horse-racing fans may remember, rode Mine That Bird to victory last year and Street Sense the year before that.

“I’m going all the way this year,” Borel said referring to the other two races of the Triple Crown, the Preakness and the Belmont. “I have to do it.”

No horse has taken all three races since Affirmed did in 1978.

Information from the NY Post.

Digging the Scene

April 27, 2010 Daisy, Diary No Comments

We deviated from our usual Saturday night private dungeon club party to check out the opening night festivities at the new BDSM club Eye Candy. Billed as a swingers club with BDSM play areas, the invitation promised an upscale club experience in Hollywood. Guests were encouraged to dress accordingly — leather, lace, lingerie or less.

I adore any excuse to dress up, particularly in fetish wear. I’ve always loved the fashion aspect of BDSM and that may be what initially caused me to flirt with bondage play in the first place. As a teenage punk rocker, I wore leather studded cock rings from the Pleasure Chest as bracelets, a slave collar, biker boots and leather jacket. These were all appropriated from gay leather culture without an understanding of what these items symbolized. I had more of an emotional connection with the aggressively sexy demeanor of black leather and bondage-influenced clothing because it was like my suit of armor – it made me feel cool and invincible.

Rock ’n roll and bondage

Rock ’n roll fashion has appropriated the rebellious bondage aesthetic for decades — think Sex Pistols in Vivienne Westwood’s bondage pants, Lou Reed in his tough leather jacket, Madonna in Jean Paul Gaultier’s fetishized 1950’s underwear as outerwear, Lady Gaga in PVC and dozens of other pop icons who have popularized versions of bondage or fetish wear.

This influence has been seen in the fashions of couture designers including Tom Ford, Helmut Lang, John Galliano and Alexander McQueen to name a few. These days it’s been diluted and fashion’s flirtation with the bondage look doesn’t have the same shocking impact. Some of these elements trickle down to the masses and end up as details in garments by H&M or Forever 21. I can’t afford a Herve Leger bandage dress but can fantasize about it!

Now that I’ve adopted BDSM as a lifestyle I take advantage of the opportunities to wear bondage-tinged fashion whenever possible — the kinkier the better. Crazy fun fashion is one of the benefits of this alternative way of life. I shop alongside strippers and rave bunnies, trolling Hollywood Boulevard or Haight Street in San Francisco for fetish clothing.

Seduced by latex

One thing that makes me feel so seductive in fetish clothing is that it objectifies the wearer, transforming her mindset, as she becomes a slave to the clothes. Objectification in the BDSM world ties in with submission — the submissive becomes a sexual object, existing only for the pleasure of another. It’s everything my feminist upbringing rallied against. For a modern woman like myself, objectification is taboo… and so naturally, it is a turn on for me.

Fetish clothing may restrict movement (such as with corsetry), dictate how we move (as with high stiletto heels) and what we do when wearing the clothing. I will totter along in tight narrow skirts combined with 6” platform heels that force me to take small, careful steps, while dragging Sir M’s heavy suitcase full of knives, chains and BDSM toys. Impractical but it looks so good.

Choosing an outfit for a kink event can be a challenge. Some of the best looks are time intensive to put on and take off, and demand advance preparation. Getting laced into a corset can take an hour and require someone else helping lace it up. Fishnet stockings with garters are difficult to put on without any twist in the garters, particularly when re-dressing in the dark as I often do at dungeon parties. Donning latex means carefully washing and hanging the garment earlier that day, then rubbing silicon-based lube on the body to help the skin-tight rubber glide over the body and into place. It is a process.

Undressing in public is an art

Part of the criteria in choosing my party wear is balancing the ease (or difficulty) of getting dressed and undressed, with the hotness factor of the outfit. I dress to please Sir M and must shine as a proud sub when I’m in his service. It is crucial that I wear something sexy but not completely impractical. For example, on a rainy winter night I was told to dress “sexy warm,” so I wouldn’t get sick strutting around in the cold. I’m of no use to him if I’m sick.

It is also essential that the outfit not be too difficult to take on or off, so that when Sir M is ready to do a scene I can transition quickly. By the same token, I can’t redress in a complicated outfit if I’m all spaced out after a scene, which is often the case. I am obsessed with waist cinchers and the silhouette they give me, yet they are not easy to put on or wear, so I save them for special occasions.

Peeling off a tight latex garment can be a struggle especially if the wearer has sweat after putting it on. And it’s hard not to sweat in a rubber dress! I ran into this problem a few weeks ago and got the latex dress rolled up and stuck around my chest when I was trying to disrobe for a scene with Sir M. He had to help me pull it off. Talk about embarrassing!

The scene-makers and the looky-loos

For the club opening I chose to wear a fishnet top with no bra, waist cincher and Herve Leger-knock-off mini skirt with fishnets and garters. The crowd was super well-dressed — pin-up-inspired beauties in perfect latex dresses and fetish heels, brilliantined black and blue hair, men wearing their best leathers (including Sir M in a soft black lambskin jacket and slacks.) There was a man in a heavy Batman costume getting tied up for a suspension on the stage in the main room. Upstairs, the dimly lit swingers loft was occupied with a few humping couples on mattresses strewn about the floor.

Sir M chose to restrain me on a large, beautiful St. Andrew’s cross that had been custom-made for the club. I carefully undressed, aware that he was leering at me and a crowd was staring in at us through the glass wall. He pulled me up against him so I could feel the leather trousers against my naked skin. He whispered gruffly in my ear,

“You like getting naked for me, don’t you, slut?”

I nodded and started to shake with nerves. He stroked my abdomen for a moment, then got a grip on my breasts and whirled me around against the cross to receive my punishment.

His stiff leather paddle (shaped like a ping pong paddle) stung as it whacked my butt. I shrieked but it didn’t matter — it just attracted a bigger crowd. I was still shaking and sobbing, cold and anxious.

Sir M blindfolded me for the rest of our scene. He was able to calm me down by dragging the point of his sharp knife all along my body. He has trained me to enter a euphoric state when confronted with his knives.

The deep scratches from his knifeplay tingled and sang to me as I redressed to join the party. That is something you probably won’t see in any fashion show; a special reminder that Sir M has been there.

Daisy TraLaLA (@daisytralala) is a saucy Angelino kinkster who glides with ease between the worlds of tech, art, cuisine, electronica and dungeon parties. Check back every Tuesday for posts from her journey to the most divine surrender.


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Gamers Won’t Be Seduced, Will Stare At Random Cleav Instead

That Steam allows the objectification and sexualization of female characters in a variety of its games but refuses to accept a game about actually engaging with women in a more interactive fashion is astonishingly backward.

FetLife Is Not Safe for Users

That the site doesn’t take measures to protect user content and has shown incompetence or negligence in regard to user privacy, all the while prohibiting victims from warning others about predatory behavior creates an environment where it is nearly impossible for members of the community to take care of themselves and one another. By enabling FetLife to continue espousing a code of silence, allowing the spinning self-created security issues as “attacks,” and not pointing out how disingenuous FetLife statements about safety are, we are allowing our community to become a breeding ground for exploitation.

Why You Should Vote No On Prop 35

Should people who benefit (parents, siblings, children, roommates!) from the earnings of “commercial sex acts” (any sexual conduct connected to the giving or receiving of something of value) be charged with human trafficking? Should someone who creates obscene material that is deemed “deviant” be charged as with human trafficking? Should someone who profits from obscene materials be charged with human trafficking? Should people transporting obscene materials be charged with human trafficking? Should a person who engages in sex with someone claiming to be above the age of consent or furnishing a fake ID to this effect be charged with human trafficking? What if I told you the sentences for that kind of conviction were eight, 14 or 20 years in prison, a fine not to exceed $500,000, and life as a registered sex offender?

Pretty and Calls Herself a Geek? Attention Whore!

If you are a woman, you might be given a chance to prove yourself in this community. Since there is no standard definition of what a “geek” is and it will vary from one judge to the next anyway, chances of failing are high (cake and grief counseling will be available after the conclusion of the test!). If you somehow manage to succeed, you’ll be tested again and again by anyone who encounters you until you manage to establish yourself like, say, Felicia Day. But even then, you’ll be questioned. As a woman, your whole existence within the geek community will be nothing but a series of tests — if you’re lucky. If you aren’t lucky, you’ll be harassed and threatened and those within the culture will tacitly agree that you deserve it.

Cuddle Chemical? Moral Molecule? Not So Fast

Zak’s original field, it turns out, is economics, a far cry from the hearts and teddy bears we imagine when we consider his nickname. But after performing experiments on generosity, Zak stumbled on the importance of trust in interactions, which led him, rather inevitably, to research about oxytocin. Oxytocin, you might remember, is a hormone that has been linked previously to bonding — between mothers and children primarily, but also between partners. What Zak has done is take the research a step further, arguing in his recent book, The Moral Molecule, that oxytocin plays a role in determining whether we are good or evil.

How to Avoid Pissing off a Stripper

Let’s talk about the strippers. Whether they like to be half-naked or not, whether they enjoy turning you on or not, there’s one thing they all have in common: they’re working. Whether you think that taking one’s clothes off for money is a great choice of career is really beside the point (is it a possibility for you to make $500 per hour at your job without a law degree? Just asking). These women are providing fantasy, yes, but that is their job. And as a patron of the establishment where they work, you need to treat them like you would anyone else who provides a service to you.


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