Lots of people bemoan the fact that social media is a bubble, filled only with people who agree with you. It gives a skewed worldview, and leads to things like me weeping with bitter tears the morning after the Brexit vote, because I couldn’t quite believe the world wasn’t quite as I’d imagined it. But there are up-sides: your Twitter feed, properly curated, can essentially be a long list of people whose opinions, ideas, and words you find sexy. Given this, you may want to consider fucking them.
Sex news this week: lots of people have been tweeting about Twitter’s safe search, which is now ‘on’ by default for a number of users (including me, which is WEIRD). If you’re following sex bloggers, porn performers, and other people who tweet adult content, here’s a quick guide on how to turn off Twitter safe search, and a little bit of info on NSFW etiquette and my own rules around tweeting sexy pics. As a bonus I’ll also give you some tips on how to support your local neighbourhood sex bloggers/adult content providers who might be getting a little bit downhearted by changes to adult content…
I don’t want to boast, but my partner and I are quite good at Lego. And by ‘good’ I think I mean ‘prolific’ rather than accurate. We have almost-perfect models all over our flat – treehouses and Batman cars and other colourful delights. When we’re not busy shagging or counting pennies, we like to build things.
Apparently Mike Pence only ever eats dinner with his wife. Another guy, a blogger called Matt Walsh, does the same – never dining with any women other than his wife in case it could be construed that he likes them. Or might shag them. Or fall in love with them. Today I learned that some men refuse to eat dinner with any women other than their wives. Consider my mind blown.
Most of us dread being asked “what are you thinking?” – it’s like a bucket of cold water chucked on you from the sky, interrupting whatever train of thought you were pursuing. Inviting you to pluck the most recent flash of memory or fantasy from your head, and spit it out into the world. Without context, without nuance. It’s just there. Sometimes I am thinking thoughts so bizarre that I wouldn’t want him to hear them unprepared. Other thoughts are so dark that I wouldn’t voice them at all. But I like that he asks. I love that he asks. And for that, he deserves answers.