Why, the Russians, that's who! Yes, I know, it's a crazy upside-down world we live in; nevertheless, as Shakesville informs me, our comrades across the ocean have commissioned (and deployed, in actual ads? This is unclear) a milk campaign that focuses entirely on milk's nutritional value, and the fact that it can decrease risks of osteoporosis, hypertension, tooth decay and colon cancer. Ha ha, no, it looks like this:
"In Russia, they know how to sell milk to men," notes the website on which the pictures appear, and on whose editors I am maybe wishing a little bit of colon cancer right now. Yes, selling basic staple foods to men is a difficult task, to be sure, but Russia knows how to do it: with sexy sex sex sex airbrushed-out-nipple sex!
Yet the photos puzzle me a little, dear Reader. I mean, yeah, the milk looks like semen: that much, I get. But what the heck do they do with their semen in Russia? Because, seriously, these are the weirdest money shots I've ever seen. Explore with me, won't you?
***WARNING: THE FOLLOWING POST CONTAINS ME TALKING ABOUT SEX BUSINESS. THIS IS BECAUSE WOMEN ARE CHILDLIKE INNOCENTS AND FEMINISTS ARE PRUDES AND MEN ARE THE ONLY PEOPLE CAPABLE OF TALKING ABOUT THIS STUFF OR MAKING VULGAR JOKES, EVER. STILL: IF YOU ARE TRAUMATIZED BY IT, OR ARE MY MOM - I TOLD YOU NOT TO READ THIS, MOTHER! - HERE IS ANOTHER THING TO LOOK AT INSTEAD. ENJOY. ****
We're all familiar with pony play. (Aren't we? I mean, not familiar with it. I mean, it was on an episode of Bones once. I mean, not that I watch Bones or anything. Oh, come on, WHAT.) Here, we see an interesting alternative: cow play! It consists of putting a bell around a lady's neck and watching her eat various salad garnishes, such as parsley. Because cows eat, um, parsley? ANYWAY. In cow play, there is no sexual contact whatsoever and you basically just jerk off into a lady's coffee mug. Because cows all have... like... coffee mugs... oh, whatever, it's SEXY.
I've always been fascinated with dudes' fascination with competitive spooging. I mean, it's a weird thing! You're having an orgasm, I'm guessing it feels pretty good, but the whole Super Soaker aspect of it, the preoccupation with volume and distance, just seems goofy, and leads inevitably to bukkake where the whole fetish is visible sperm, or to that weird frat boy thing Fred Durst named his band after where guys all wank onto an Oreo and this bonds them in a way that is totally heterosexual and not at all based on certain sublimated desires. Anyway, dudes, if you are concerned about your rate of production, here is a solution: jerk off into the same receptacle several times a day for five years, then squirt all of that through a fire hose at your space dominatrix girlfriend just as she is putting on her swimsuit. She will be SO IMPRESSED! Because it is SEXY!
I've got a fever... for cow play! Bells, check; body paint, check; inexplicable yet sexy coffee mug, check also... but wait! Where is her salad garnish? Ah, I see, her mouth is otherwise employed. With SPITTING. Which is GROSS, and UNLADYLIKE, and REQUIRES ADDITIONAL CLEANUP because WHAT IF ALL THAT BUSINESS GETS ON YOUR SHEETS, then you will have to DO LAUNDRY. Basically, I'm not freaked out by sex, but I do think that any act which requires me to do additional laundry is a perversion of God's Will. Uncool, Bessie! Uncool!
Here, a fairly specialized fetish: coming on a woman's face against her will when she is clearly freaked out by it and afraid of getting it into her eye. This is an act most commonly performed by men who get off on having women punch them in the cock repeatedly until they can't breathe. Or, at least, I hope they get off on it, because if you try that shit, that is what's going to happen.