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Sweden Bans Implants Citing Explosion Risk

April 5, 2010 Health, News, Politics No Comments

Sweden’s Medical Products Agency (Läkemedelsverket) has banned three brands of silicone breast implants due to their risk of bursting. Gnarly.

They estimated that some 35,000 European women have had their breasts augmented with dangerous Poly Implant Prothese (PIP) since 2001. Sweden is following France’s example, who has done the same and is now offering the 1,000 affected women an alternatives.

“This is the type of information that we are trying to find out. We hope to be able to release information as soon as possible,” said Staffan Strömberg at the agency.

Strömberg said he does not see any reason for Swedish women who have these implants to be overly concerned at this time.

Image from Information from The Local, via @ericludzenski.

L.A. Dudes Have Tiny Dicks

April 5, 2010 News, OMGWTFBBQ, Research 1 Comment

So get this, recently, the giant Condomania averaged the sizes of their custom-sized TheyFit condoms ordered by a sample of some 25,000 men in the U.S. between 2004 and 2010 to figure out what cities have the best-endowed men.

Los Angeles, they found, comes in at 17, a full nine places below San Francisco.

The SF Weekly wasted no time rubbing it in:

Finding a good man in San Francisco is not easy. We actually devoted a cover story to the challenging hunt. Yet apparently finding a well-endowed man is not too, umm, hard. According to stats released by internet condom store Condomania, it’s much easier in the City by the Bay than in the city of over-inflated pricks to the south, Los Angeles.

San Francisco ranked a respectable No. 8 among the nation’s 20 most populous cities, while Los Angeles came in at a stumpy 17th. And L.A. seems to be feeling a little down about their shortcomings, noting that even Ron Jeremy couldn’t carry the team. Basically they’re taking their loss like a man, concocting lame excuses about how not a lot of men in L.A. even wear condoms so the stats are skewed. Wah, wah, wah.

For all the grief we put San Diego through up here in the City of Angels, we here at Sex and the 405 have to admit that their coming in third place in the city rankings is pretty damn impressive.

And the smallest cocks? Detroit, Philadelphia, and Dallas/Ft. Worth.

Disagree? Pics or we’re not buying it!

And if you know someone who defies the results of this survey, send them a proper thank you!

Image by Julie K. Information via the SF Weekly.

On a Saturday in Venice, California

April 4, 2010 Diary, Raymond 1 Comment

You don’t really want to fuck on heroin. The drug is enough. You’re slack, slacker than you’ve ever been. You’re okay with the world around you. The world around you suits you just fine. Friday night is becoming Saturday.

All good things must come. Come and then come to an end.

At the end of the high, it’s time to come back.

The best way to come back is to come. But it’s hard to come with your body broken like this. As the good feelings of Friday night came to an end, the pass out takes over. Now it’s Saturday and the good times have ended and you’re hoping she’ll come. Come over at least.

Detoxing is not sexy. Hard drug toxins have a special, special touch. The sweating starts. There is no appetite, the body wants the poison out but you’re not ready to live yet. No food for you.

The sheets are soaked through with sweat and you’re cold. It’s cold but you still sweat. You have the chills but you still sweat. It’s hot outside but you’re cold and sweating.

And then she arrives. You’re in agony but you’re young enough where lying in bed is somehow acceptable even though it’s four in the afternoon and the world is outside, just outside your window. She ignores the wet sheets. Notices them, yes, but decides to ignore them after she pushes them away. You pull them back to you.

You have only a futon. The futon is unfolded and it takes up most of the space in the room. The apartment is small. It’s a nice day outside but the blinds are drawn. It’s four in the afternoon and you’re glad to see her.

You reach your hand out. You caress her breast. Cup it. Something about the pain changes in you. There is a restlessness there. Warmth. You’re not as cold anymore.

She sits up then and reaches for the bong. She has her own weed. She smokes and you try to but it’s painful and you don’t want to be stoned, it just makes the pain worse.

But now she is high and that makes her horny. You don’t know why it’s called that, horny, but smoking weed makes her happy and horny and you don’t care why people call it that. You can barely think straight, thoughts are still all floaty but it’s not pleasant anymore.

She tucks herself in next to you, you ramble half-coherently, rattling off the fragmented thoughts that drift about in your mind. Your mind is resistant but your body is stirring. Your cock awakes. You’re young so you slip your hand in her panties right away as you kiss her. You’re young so you don’t think about how your breath might be or how your saliva must taste. She loves you and she ignores it, at least she doesn’t say anything. You’re young and she’s young too.

Before long she’s riding you. You don’t have the energy to move your body on top of hers so this is perfect. You’re surprised that your cock works at all since the rest of your body is broken. This makes you happy. Your cock is not as hard as normal but there’s something satisfying about this too. You’re young and you felt like you were dying just minutes before but now she is riding you and you know you are alive.

So this is what sex is after heroin. You fuck her and grab her tits with your hands and you’re happy. You’re turned on and it’s not exactly like regular happiness, but you’ve never fucked after heroin before and you’re glad to be alive because you felt like you were dying.

She is fucking you and making those noises that she makes. She’s going slower than normal because you are. You’re going slower than normal because your bones hurt and you’re just happy that your cock is hard and it’s staying hard.

She is cooing and you love her. You’re glad that she came over, and you’re glad when she says, “I’m coming, Babe.” She says that a lot and it makes you happy in that certain way every time you hear it. You fuck and sweat and breathe strangely since your body is still in shock and then you stop for a couple of minutes and then you start fucking her again. You know that you’re alive. And if you’re alive today, you’ll be alive tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow you’ll do more heroin but probably not, because that would be stupid. But you’re glad for her. You love her and you love fucking her and you find the energy to get behind her.

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.

Seeking The Ultimate Blowjob

April 2, 2010 Opinion 7 Comments

I love blowjobs. I’m male, so that pretty much goes without saying. But I really love blowjobs. Epic blowjobs. Intense, full depth, sloppy, slobbering, gagging, tearing, face-fucking, extended eye-contact, fully consuming blowjobs. The kind that cause you to take pause when you see or experience one unexpectedly. Again, that probably isn’t much of a revelatory statement coming from a man, but for me a proper blowjob is almost a fetish. In fact, it might be my one and only fetish. And that single sexual preference has unfortunately been an obstacle that has kept me from having a serious, long-term relationship for many years.

Now I don’t mean that in the most absolute sense. It’s not as if any girl I consider dating must have a total lack of or complete control over her gag reflex. There’s no chart at my front door that says “You Must Swallow This Many Inches to Ride the Zipper.” But it’s a preference. Just in the same way I’m sure size queens have liked, fallen for, and dated guys of average stature, but in the end realized they couldn’t be with someone who didn’t fulfill all their needs, both personal and physical. That’s where the trouble starts for me; finding the combination of both personal and physical chemistry.

Admittedly, I’m something of a contradiction. After a handful of wild years I’ve calmed down for the most part and settled into a slower lifestyle. I don’t go out that much anymore, and when I do, it’s usually to a more intimate bar with friends, rather than a loud, pulsing club full of expectation. But when it comes to sex, there’s no slowing down. Your libido doesn’t downshift. Or at least mine doesn’t. To miss-quote the genius comedian Jim Jeffries…

I want everything that everyone wants in this world. I want to fall in love, get married, have kids, all of that. But I’ve lived this life for so long that I can’t go back to nice girls because they’re shit in bed.

Once you push your limits a bit, experiment, and find something you enjoy there’s no undoing it. So, since I’m living with these two halves of myself, my ideal mate must be similarly bifurcated. A secret freak, like me.

Allow me to explain how difficult finding such a woman can be.

In my sexual experiences, I’ve found that maybe 7-10% of women give the kind of fellatio that I’m talking about. Unfortunately, so far I’ve only met two types of women in that percentage; party girls and BDSM enthusiasts. Now I have nothing against party girls, they’re part of the reason I discovered great head in the first place. But I’m not like that anymore, I’m older and tired and already have a commitment to Netflix.

So why not date the kinksters, you ask? Well, I have them to thank as well. They helped show me where my limits are. While I have no judgments against people who enjoy it, I have zero interest in anything BDSM-related. Sure, I’m obviously the dominant type in bed. I like to pull a woman’s hair, smack her ass a bit, get a little rough just for fun. But whenever games or rules or costumes or role-playing is involved, I lose interest. It’s too much work; I don’t really see the point. There are so many fun, amazing, intense things you can do with just a couple of naked people, why complicate things? It’s just not for me.

Such is my conundrum. Trying my to find the smart, opinionated, independent, creative, mousey brunette who will spend an afternoon with me reading in the park, stay in and watch horror movies on a Friday night, join me for the occasional night of heavy drinking, and lovingly impale her face on my cock. Now some women think that sounds degrading, and even scoff at the idea of doing that to any man, and that’s fine. But please know that my obsession with this isn’t about discomfort or humiliation, it’s about effort. One of the reasons why crazy deepthroat blowjobs are so hot (besides the obvious physical pleasure) is how much effort one requires to be done properly.

When anyone willingly takes your erect penis, forces it down their throat, cutting off their airway, causing them to gag, making tears stream down their face, and they still look you in the eye with that same twinkle they get when they smile… there is nothing more attractive. They’re fighting their own instincts and reflexes to give you the most intense sexual pleasure they possibly can and they’re enjoying it. That’s the greatest gift in the fucking world.

So I’m picky. About both personality and sexuality. I admit it. But I refuse to settle. It takes a lot of time, experience, and therapy to realize what you want from yourself, let alone a partner, so why should we compromise? Commitment and dedication is personal, not universal, and we all have very different but equally fucked up fetishes, fantasies and tendencies. The trick is finding someone whose fucked up-ness fits well with yours, and it would seem I’m just not playing the odds.

Aaron is an east coast transplant who works in entertainment and new media, you can leave your comments for him here or write him at Aarononthe405 AT gmail DOT com.

Republicans Like Bondage, And So Do We

Earlier this week we reported on some outrageous statements made by a member of the Democratic party. Not to be outdone in the shaming department, the Dems quickly jumped on the Republican National Committee (RNC) for allegedly blowing some two grand at Voyeur.

The RNC has issued a statement:

We are investigating the expenditure in question. The story willfully and erroneously suggests that the expenditure in question was one belonging to the Chairman. This was a reimbursement made to a non-committee staffer. The Chairman was never at the location in question, he had no knowledge of the expenditure, nor does he find the use of committee funds at such a location at all acceptable. Good reporting would make that distinction crystal clear. The committee has requested that the monies be returned to the committee and that the story be corrected so that it is accurate.”

We here at Sex and the 405 are happy everyone is focused on the issues that matter.

Image from Voyeur. Information from the Talking Points Memo.

A Push for the Tush (Sorry, We Had To)

April 1, 2010 Culture, Fashion No Comments

We’ve all heard of push-up bras, but how about a little lift in the trunk? That’s what the Biniki ButtBra is all about.

(We wish this were an April Fool’s joke. It isn’t.)

According to CrazySexStuff, California psychologist Dr. Karin Hart came up with the idea after she lost a lot of weight and her behind with it.

“By wrapping a strip of adhesive tape around myself in different ways I found one that worked,” Hart said. “The look it gave me was so nice I decided to make a few to wear under clothes. Most people would agree that the breasts and the buttocks look best when held high on the body. This motivates millions of women to wear a bra. There is an inconsistency though, because the backside looks good as well when high on the body, but there is no lift product. The derriere has panties, thongs, boy shorts and horizontally shaping compression, but no bra.”

And there’s a male version, too! The Maniki.

Boys… don’t you dare.

Image from Biniki Fashions. Information via CrazySexStuff.

Georgetown Students Rebel Against Campus Anti-Choice Policies

April 1, 2010 Freedom, News No Comments

Last weekend, Georgetown students rose in revolt against the campus’ anti-choice policies during tours by prospective students. These anti-choice policies force students to go off campus for condoms and birth control.

The Washington Post reported on the incident:

As groups of prospective students and their parents toured Georgetown University Saturday afternoon, three current students put tape over their mouths and chained themselves to a statue of the Catholic college’s founder.

The president of the campus’s unofficial pro-choice group yelled into a megaphone: “We are unofficial because Georgetown refuses to take care of the sexual health of its students.”

Two other students held a huge banner with a message for university president John J. DeGioia: “Take the tape off our mouths and the chains off our bodies.”

The blog Feministing gave the students kudos, remarking on the cost of speaking up: “They face serious hostility, in addition to protesters at all their events and no campus recognition for their groups.”

Photo by Lexie Herman, for Vox Populi, look at more here. Information via Feministing.

Is The Bachelor Party Over?

April 1, 2010 Culture No Comments

Last year, Details magazine <strong>wrote a piece about how over the bachelor party was.

Limos. Titties. Shots. Titties. Hookers. Titty shots. Las Vegas. Las More Titties. Aaaaaooooo! At one point or another, all of us will either plan, participate in, or be the feted guest of honor of a bachelor party—that most generically alpha-male endeavor this side of bench-press spotting. Surely there’s a way to show our soon-to-be-wedded friends a good time that doesn’t require Jaeger shooters and STDs? … Throwing the bachelor party with strippers in Vegas is about as cool as sending your valentine a heart-shaped box full of Russell Stover chocolates. Which is to say, even lamer than golfing.

They cited and named a few alternatives, such as going camping, paint-balling, and hitting an amusement park.

We gave the piece a few months to sink in, then sent out our agents to a few Las Vegas strip clubs to assess the damage.

We’re pleased to report that the skin biz is still overflowing with ridiculously drunk bachelors engaging in all manner of questionable behaviors.

As they should be.

Image and information from Details.

Data Meets Self-Obsession, An App Is Born

March 31, 2010 Culture, geek No Comments

The geekery is extreme here in the Sex and the 405 newsroom, so it’s no surprise that when we found out about Dayta, we were beside ourselves with delight.

Dayta is a data-tracking app for the iPhone that enables you to keep tabs on everything about you.

You can use it to watch your weight and record how much you’re sleeping, or you can make like our editrix and use it to keep track of how many orgasms you have per sexcapade and how many texts you get a day from each of your lovers.

The potential is great and if you love information as much as we do and are half as self-absorbed, you’ll undoubtedly put this crafty app to exceptional use.

Image from Dayta, tip from UrbanDaddy.

So You Wanna Pay for Pussy? Step 2: How much is that pussy in the window?

March 31, 2010 Hobbying, Lessons 5 Comments

You’ve done your homework, you’ve searched the ads on Craigslist, Backpage or any of a slew of hooker message boards and you’re just captivated by those lace-clad boobs staring back at you from the screen. So how much should you pay for pussy?

If ya have to ask, you can’t afford it.

Truth is, you can find many lovely ladies at all service levels in all price ranges. But, in my considered professional opinion, you always get what you pay for.

When the topic of price comes up on hobbyist discussion boards (and it always does) someone is bound to trot out the tired old analogies. They compare hookers to cars, to meals, to stores. All of that misses the mark. And it’s insulting to boot. They always say something along the lines of “well, whaddaya want? A Lexus or a Toyota? A burger or a Porterhouse? Wal-Mart or Tifanny’s?” I mean really. You’re actually going to compare a girl to meat? And you wonder why they think you’re crass. As an aside, I’ll just note that while I have known hookers named Lexus and Tiffany, I have to this date never met one named Porterhouse.

You’re not buying a product, you’re contracting with someone to provide an extremely intimate personal service.

OK, dollars and cents. As a general rule, girls advertising on Craigslist or Humaniplex tend to be the lower end of the spectrum. Usually in the $100 to $150 range. You’ll find some for a bit more, a bit less, but that’s the general range. For your hundred bucks, you’re usually going to get limited service. It’ll tend to be the get in/get off/get out type of service. Often, these are the girls that are working out of some slightly seedy chain motel in the Valley. They’re the high volume providers. Clock watchers? Hell yeah. They may say that the fee is for the half hour service, but you’ll be outta there within 12 minutes of dropping trou. If that’s what you want… if that’s what you think the experience is all about… then that’s what you’re gonna get for a hundred bucks.

Once you move up to review sites like The Erotic Review or you’re moving into a pricier neighborhood. But you can expect greatly improved levels of service.

When you start getting into the $300-$600 range, you’ll be more likely spending time with ladies who offer the GirlFriend Experience. That one term more than any other is a subject of fierce debate in the hoooker/john world. What exactly does it mean? Definitions vary, and we’ll get into those more in another installment. But for now, suffice to say that you’re paying for a more well-rounded, total experience. You’ll be spending time with a lady who tends to be a lower volume provider. That is, she usually is only seeing a small number of clients a day. This gets to be important… if you want a girl who’s had time to shower between clients. If that kinda thing isn’t important to you — well, it should be. You made sure to wash your sweaty balls before going to see her, didn’t you? Didn’t you? Well, a high class, GFE escort has made sure she’s fresh and clean for you, too.

From there, you start getting into escorts who offer multi-hour appointments, ladies who schedule overnight appointments, who have dinner date appointments, who are willing to travel to you in distant cities. All of that costs money, of course, but again, you get what you pay for. If that’s the level of service you want (and why shouldn’t you? An erudite man-of-the-world like you deserves nothing less) then start saving your money now. Overnight sessions, you can expect $2500 or more. If you’re interested in booking time with an established porn star (and there are a few out there who see clients) plan on spending upwards of $1000 per hour to start. Is it worth it? Hey, you’ve watched plenty of porn, you think that shit is easy?

So here’s the mechanics of the thing, and these rules hold true pretty much across the board at all price points. Rule number one: this is strictly a cash business. Sure, you can find escorts and agencies that will accept credit cards, but c’mon. You really want a hooker to have your credit card number? No matter how much you trust her, that’s a recipe for disaster. But have some fucking sense. You’re not gonna walk into a hotel room and hand some strange girl a wad of cash. Be discreet, mutherfucker. Have the cash (and it better all be there) in a small envelope, maybe put it in a thank-you card. When you get to the room, place the envelope in plain view on the nightstand. Sometimes she’ll take it into the bathroom. This is so she can count it without you watching (and so she can hide it so you can’t snatch it back).

If you’re really classy, maybe a small gift bag and card. But if you’re gonna do it that way, do it right and actually put a small gift in the small gift bag. Just sayin’.

Do not, under any circumstances, say anything to her about the money. “Hey, here’s your three hundred bucks cash, let’s get to fucking,” is a sure way to get your ass thrown out. Minus $300. It’s all about discretion.

So far, I’ve been working on the assumption that you’ll be visiting her at her location, whether her home, apartment or hotel. We haven’t gotten into the difference between incall (you go to her) and outcall (she comes to you). Both have their pros and cons. But that’s Part Three.

Read Part One.

Hooker Addict (@hookeraddict) has wasted much of the last few years wading through the local escort/hobbyist message boards. From finding a hooker to making the date, not getting ripped off or worse; this is about paying for sex. With actual cash. A few years ago, he became fascinated with streeetwalkers, but now the game has changed. Moved indoors, online. He’s just Some Guy, with no skills and no game. And he still gets more pussy than you.


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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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Sex and the 405 is what your newspaper would look like if it had a sex section.

Here you’ll find news about the latest research being conducted to figure out what drives desire, passion, and other sex habits; reviews of sex toys, porn and other sexy things; coverage of the latest sex-related news that have our mainstream media's panties up in a bunch; human interest pieces about sex and desire; interviews with people who love sex, or hate sex, or work in sex, or work to enable you to have better sex; opinion pieces that relate to sex and society; and the sex-related side of celebrity gossip. More...