Joanna Cake is often sent items for review and, if you purchase an item via some of the links on this site, she may receive a small commission.
However, no reviews are influenced by this fact. If I don't like it, I will say so!
Further to the discussion in the comments box of my post on Friday about the effects of Candida, and the various methods of coping with this irritating condition, I was recently offered the chance to be an affiliate for Yeast Cleanser.
This starts the process with a questionnaire that promises to send you a free personalised Candida solution. It comes in the form of a very informative mini-course for those of you who aren’t familiar with the origins of this persistent little blighter.
Because thrush manifests itself in both men and women. Yeast infections are not the exclusive preserve of the vaginal canal of the fairer sex.
It can present as a manky toenail, bad breath, stomach and gastric disorders, skin complaints and mental fog.
Sure, you can go to see your healthcare professional and get an interim salve for any one of those disorders. But, if you don’t address the root problem, then it’s just going to come back.
And this time, it will be immune to the previous medication, requiring ever stronger drugs to send it on its way.
Your diet and lifestyle need to be changed if you really want to be rid of the problem for good.
Welcome to Pleasurists, a round-up of the adult product and sex toy reviews that came out in the last seven days. If you like what you see and want more of it be sure to follow the RSS Feed and Twitter for updates.
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It was a wet and windy Saturday here and I was waiting for a friend to come over.
I had cleaned the flat and checked my emails so I was at a loose end and switched on the tv. With nothing more productive to do, I found myself flicking through the channels on Freeview.
And that’s how I came upon Spartacus. The uncut and digitally restored version.
It was made by Stanley Kubrik in 1960, the year before I was born and so, along with Ben Hur and Cleopatra became a staple of my childhood blockbuster film watching. My whole vision of the Roman Empire was based squarely upon the faultlessly photogenic snapshots presented by the Hollywood elite in that golden period of film-making over the late 1950s and early 1960s. Brave, handsome men and feisty beautiful women sold into a life of crushing slavery through no fault of their own only to rise, triumphant, to the top of the pile through their courage but this was always reinforced by a love story that left them dependent upont the whims of good and bad men.
I had forgotten just how beautiful Kirk Douglas was, with his burning eyes and that fabulous cleft chin. Jean Simmonds was totally breath-taking as his wife, Varinia, the woman who was also desired by the Roman leader, Crassus, played by another gorgeous man, Laurence Olivier.
This triangle of lust, supported by Charles Laughton and Peter Ustinov, played out over a gladiatorial contest and several amazing battles to the moment that everyone remembers where an entire army claims ‘I am Spartacus‘ in an attempt to save their beloved leader from harm.
In 1994, they re-made Spartacus as a mini-series with the lovely Goran Visnij from ER in the title role. He’s a lovely guy, but he doesn’t have the screen presence of Kirk Douglas.
I haven’t seen the film but, apparently, the ending is different and more in line with the original book by Howard Fast.
It has a good support cast with Sir Alan Bates, Rhona Mitra and Angus McFadyen so perhaps I shall give that a go as a rental from LoveFilm.com in the New Year.
Originally posted 2009-11-29 09:55:00. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
Great infographic from Lab42.com about what people find most attractive in a partner. Click the image to enlarge.
Ruf is attractive – he smiles and my heart skips a beat. He’s definitely emotionally attentive – I have never felt so loved.
Similar humour – well, sort of. Like most blokes, the more disgusting the funnier, but there is definitely an overlap and he always laughs at what I say – sometimes when it wasn’t actually meant to be funny :)
Strong family values? Well, we both believe in the importance of turning up to family events.
Same personality? Definitely not. Yes, he is my soul mate but because we are like two halves of the same coin rather than agreeing on everything.
Cake is too sick to type. She is lying down next to me groaning, occasionally, as even that is a bit too much effort. Now I don’t want you to think that she is milking the situation or has been laid low with man flu, which would be unfair. She has been very ill. We thought it was a bladder infection or something but whatever the problem and whatever the cause, she has been very ill.
This has meant that an uncomplaining lover has been waiting on her hand and foot. Although seeing as she has not eaten for two days and has thrown up anything other than ice, this hasn’t been too taxing. The ice thing was a new one on me, but it means she has been able to tolerate a little moisture, which is a good thing.
There have been plenty of hot water bottles too and today she was able to manage some electrolyte mixture, which may help. She is slowly improving but is not really capable of anything of note.
I, the lover, have been sidelined to the sofa, in order to achieve some sleep. This is better than the alternative but is a little disappointing seeing as this is my holiday. I’m just glad that I was here today when the mini crisis occurred. I tried to get into the bedroom but the door wouldn’t open. Strange, it was fine the previous night. So I removed the handle but there was nothing obvious.
Cake phoned the letting agent and some workmen were sent out. The turned up very promptly and were friendly enough, although a little confused by my accent. Anyway they had the beading round the frame off and the door open in a jiffy. The mechanism had broken as the parts used were “cheap and nasty”. They were back in ten minutes with replacement parts and the door was operational. Panic over!
Luckily cake had managed to throw some discarded clothing over Albert 3 so there was no cloned-cock related embarrassment, phew. I removed the offending item while the good guys were off heroically gathering parts.
Cake is slowly heading in the right direction and hopes to be back with you tomorrow. I have my doubts, but she is improving. I’ve had to reshedule some posts which weren’t complete. She will be back!
Originally posted 2010-08-13 17:00:25. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
Welcome to e[lust], the sex blog round-up- The best posts from the hottest and smartest sex bloggers all in one place! This edition highlights topics such as libido, fake orgasms, teenage lust, voyeurism, BDSM consent and so much more. Want to be included in e[lust] #33? Start with the rules, come back in February to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!
~ The Top Three Posts ~
Assent Matters by SherynB – Find your emotional power to recognize and say “no” to what you don’t want BEFORE you get naked and tied up and give up your actual physical power to walk away to anybody.
Forever The Night – ‘Why the hell shouldn’t I listen? This is my home, my bedroom after all’. So I do listen and I do feel myself twitch at every minute sound on the other side of that fucking wall.
Hands. Fingers. Pleasure. – This was the first time a boy’s fingers had such unfettered access to my pussy. Prior gropings under and through clothes had never been like this.
Sadie Says… Awake – In the haze of my missing libido I also lost myself. I began to wonder if I remembered who the hell I was?
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!
Further to my post on STDs in America and Condoms Causing Thrush, on reflection, this link between flavoured condoms and yeast infections would not surprise me at all. As I wrote in my post An Inconvenient Truth, the vagina is a very delicate ecosystem that naturally contains a certain amount of the yeast, Candida Albicans.
However, if you start invading it repeatedly with a foreign body, the fragile tissues become irritated. If you compound that irritation by infiltrating the area with flavoured, sugary lubes and condoms, it’s going to start interfering with the balance of good and bacteria because Candida Albicans loves sweet stuff.
Complementary therapists will propound the theory that Candida feeds on this lovely treat and starts to proliferate, until it outnumbers the good guys who normally keep it in check.
Result – a yeast infection.
However, conventional GPs refute this assertion saying that any yeast and sugars in our food/personal health products are totally different from those which are associated with Candida and that they have no effect on its numbers. Candida like other yeasts, lives on sugar. But the “advice” to avoid eating sugar makes no difference – all starch and sugars from whatever source in the diet are broken down or converted to glucose, which is the type of sugar in the blood used to fuel cells. The body regulates its blood glucose levels within a narrow range (unless one is diabetic) and can even convert proteins and fats into glucose when needed to maintain the supply. So it is impossible to get rid of this sugar in the blood, and avoiding eating any form of sugar makes no difference to Candida as if it does invade the body it will get all the glucose it wants.
When I contacted Durex in the UK, a spokesman gave this comment on the subject:
“This issue has come up before and is anecdotal rather than having any evidence to back it up. It may be based on the perception that flavours and fragrances will lead to infection.
I have not come across any published articles with evidence of flavoured or fragranced condoms leading to an increase in sensitivity reactions or vaginal thrush infections.
As medical devices the flavours have to be evaluated as safe to use so that they are confirmed as non-toxic and non-irritating. Despite this there is always the possibility that a minority of people may be sensitive to flavours that are used on the condoms and this minority may be better off avoiding these condoms and/or contacting their doctor to establish what they may be sensitive to.
However, things seem to be rather different in the States where some brands of condom are specifically recommended for oral sex only because they can cause problems if used vaginally or anally. These problems were unspecified, although I did read one website that advised to avoid using condoms containing the spermicide Nonoxynol 9 as it can cause small sores, especially in the rectum, increasing the risk of HIV transmission.
The problem is that the vagina is naturally acidic and lubrication is alkaline (as is seminal fluid & saliva) which can change the ph balance of the vagina. This may cause opportunist yeast infections especially for women who are particularly prone to them. Complementary therapists will say that, for those who are susceptible to yeast infections because of systemic Candida overgrowth in their bodies, putting a substance into the vagina that contains any form of sugar or sweetener could well cause a problem. The jury is out on glycerin because it is not thought to feed plaque or raise blood sugar levels. However, it does have a ‘shelf-life’ so lubes containing either glycerol, glycerin or glycerine should not be left lying around half-used as they can cause an irritation.
So I thought I would investigate the composition of the flavourings. So far, I have ascertained that Durex Play Tingle (known as Tingling in the US) and Play Cherry contain saccharine, whereas some of the other flavored lubricants use sodium saccharine. Glycerin is used in Play Heat (known as Play Warmer in the US) lubricant and condoms, Massage 2-in 1, and Passion Cherry. However, Play More and Play Tingling are glycerin-free.
My personal view is that if you know you have a problem with yeast infections, it is best to avoid flavoured condoms and lubes and always check the labels for added sugar or glycerin(e). I certainly don’t seem to have had a problem with Play Feel but I cannot find out whether it contains any of the substances I’m trying to avoid because it does not include the ingredients on its packaging.
His Grace, The Duke slammed us with a biggie recently. He has lost his urge to read and, worse still, write about sex.
After pondering on his piece and the comments it provoked, I got to thinking about why I like to involve myself in doing both on this extraordinarily intense subject.
I think, in terms of reading, it depends upon why you’re there. If it’s purely for the wank factor, then maybe you need lots of almost pornographic acts, preferably illustrated with photographs, to titillate you into the necessary sexual state. But is that more for the males? Or am I guilty of gender bias?
As a female reader, I want to be engaged in order to be aroused. A different part of my brain needs to be stimulated so that I can indulge in the emotions being generated. A straightforward, close to the knuckle, oooh-aaahh grinding bonk just doesn’t cut it for me. I also find that phonetic reproduction of some of the noises and gurglings just make me want to giggle.
When I read the Sugasm entries, if I get to the third or fourth paragraph and I have no empathy with the protagonists, then they have lost me. The insertion of paragraphs into a solid lump of wordage is, therefore, always helpful.
One of the things I do notice about some writers is the lack of emotive connection with the sexual partner who is the subject of the story. I don’t know if that’s deliberate and, whilst I still enjoy to read (and write) that sort of story, if all the pieces are in that mode then I find myself starting to view the author as someone who is out purely for trophy fucks (I have to credit His Grace for introducing me to that term) and is objectifying the other person, which does not make me very sympathetic to the prose and, therefore, not so excited by it. This applies to both male and female authors.
I value some of the more factual pieces – especially in terms of reviews of new toys to save me the despondency of forking out £30 for something that just isn’t designed for the more petite consumer. Although you still cannot guarantee that what works for one person is going to produce the same orgasmic response in another. There are some writers who focus on workers within the sex industry and those articles and interviews can be quite engrossing – there is so much that I didn’t know or had assumed incorrectly.
As a writer, I am similarly influenced by emotional engagement. I tell the stories of my encounters with Ruf to remind myself of some of the most emotive experiences of my life – whether it be ecstasy, bliss, love, trepidation, pain, fear, whatever. I use my blog almost as a journal so that I will never forget how I felt at that particular time, the intensity of the sensations that I tapped into. And I want my Reader to share that with me. I search exhaustively for the correct adjectives to take them back to that place so they can experience it too.
However, recently, I have also been writing some of my most erotic fantasies. Adventures involving couplings that will, in all likelihood, never be fulfilled – but that doesn’t stop my over-active imagination from wanting to try to enjoy the scenario in at least some form – even if only vicariously. Quite a few of these stories do employ situations of dominance where it seems as if one partner begins the hunt in a very calculating fashion but I hope that I get across the idea that he becomes totally engaged in achieving the complete wanton fulfilment of his quarry by the end. That there has been some sort of passionate exchange where both parties cared about each other throughout the entanglement.
During my time in Blogland, I have discussed with other bloggers the seemingly overwhelming need for sex writers to progress on to ever wilder and more perverse or salacious activities in order to continue to maintain their own interest and maybe also that of their reader. Continually searching for the next big orgasm. The problem seems to be the desperate desire for some sort of total white out every time. And yet, it just cannot be like that. Sometimes you have to accept that, no matter how small, every orgasm is an achievement – a celebration of sexual gratification.
I think here it also depends on why you write. If it is purely to watch the Statcounter going up, then you’re going to be very sensitive to trying to meet the needs of the Reader and to not go over the same acts repetitively. Perhaps you are going to want to spice up the different angles and methods of consummation. To search out the bizarre and the innovative to keep things interesting for both the participants and their voyeurs. There may even be a temptation to experiment with fetishes and more extreme activities that you might not otherwise have considered.
As a lover, I have definitely felt the need to explore other options in terms of the sexual act – but for the benefit of my own continuing liaison, not for that of my Reader. There have been things that I have read about to which my mind has turned itself inside out and gone ‘ewwwww!’ but others have elicited a more interested and liquid response which makes me want to investigate it further to see if it’s as good as has been described. If I write about them at all it will be as an encouragement or a warning to the other vanilla people out there who might be tempted to expose themselves also.
Will I ever go off sex as a subject to read about? Will I become a less prolific writer in that area in the way the Duke has discussed?
Possibly.
But, at the moment, I am still trying to view it through more varied methods of production. Different types of poetry. Stories from alternative perspectives. Pictures that inspire me to write about the thoughts that jump out at me from just one glance. Conversations with other people can be major contributors to my own creativity. Expanding on a chance word or half-formed exchange of ideas or even just a feeling that a person has evoked.
If I’ve discovered anything from blogging, it’s not so much that I enjoy sex (although I had forgotten the great pleasure it can give) but more a case of how much I love to write – in all its forms.
I think, to quote Rups over at Fancies & Fuckeries, I am a Sexicographer!
Originally posted 2008-04-01 03:25:00. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
I found this chart fascinating, not just because of the statistics but also because of the part about certain types of condoms contributing to yeast infections.
Sometimes I think I’m not really cut out for life as a business woman. I’m just too trusting.
I take people at face value and I believe what they tell me.
Sadly, over the last couple of weeks, such an innocent and naive attitude has come back to bite me on the bum more than once.
I give stuff away for free if I think it will help someone. But, instead of gratefully receiving and offering something in return, many people take the gifthorse and try to get as much as they can out of it, not caring if the giver then incurs financial loss as a result.
I find it quite extraordinary and rather hard to come to terms with.
Do I really need to change my whole persona in order to survive a mindset that seems to pervade a large selection of the people with whom I come into contact.
To try to do so will interfere not only with the way that I do business but with my entire psyche. How can you be optimistic if you’re always trying to watch your own back?
No, of course it’s not everyone. There have been people who have been similarly generous to me – which is why I feel compelled to pay it forward wherever I can.
But I have been stung twice now – because I wanted to believe the best of people.
And even when faced with incontrovertible evidence of their duplicity, I still tried to find some way to continue to help them.
Welcome to Pleasurists, a round-up of the adult product and sex toy reviews that came out in the last seven days. If you like what you see and want more of it be sure to follow the RSS Feed and Twitter for updates.
Did you miss Pleasurists 161? Read it all here. Do you have a review for Pleasurists 163? Be sure to read the submission guidelines and then use the submission form to submit before Sunday January 1st, 2012 @ 11:59pm Pacific.
Want a shiny new toy? All you’ve got to do is enter.
The Sugar Daddy was 38 when we became involved. As a friend of my father’s, he had been in my universe for several years and watched me grow up. I had always thought him very attractive, I guess because he bore a strong resemblance to William Shatner… Captain Kirk of the Starship Enterprise.
When I first started to work in Town as an 18 year old, I used to meet my father and his friends after work in a pub. I have fantastically clear memories of the pungent smell of draught beer emanating from the open doorway and wafting up the street as I turned the corner, the taste of corned beef sandwiches made from thick slabs of crusty bread, with pickle or mayonnaise if I hadn’t had time for lunch, the noise of the music and the laughter. We would travel home on the train and again the smell of beer, cigarettes and newspaper print assails my nostrils even 30 years distant.
I can’t remember how it first happened but, every evening, I would be sitting next to the Sugar Daddy helping with the crossword and he would hold my hand under the outspread newspaper, right under the nose of my seemingly unnoticing parent.
And then, one day, he called me at work. I don’t recall how he got my number but he wanted to know if I would go for lunch. I was a little nervous, but I accepted. The Cherry Picker was away at Uni and I was being a good, faithful girlfriend but a drink with one of my father’s married friends could surely not constitute a threat to my fidelity?
And so began the first of a number of visits to establishments in what, I think, may have been Soho. I recall that I got the tube to Oxford Circus and I can remember Libertys. It is all a blur. Maybe I was always a little drunk and giddy with the alchohol and the excitement, maybe it is something that I don’t feel particularly proud of and so I try to forget… but I certainly enjoyed it in a strange way at the time. I think there may have been naked women dancing elsewhere in the club but he was respectful enough to keep me well away from them.
This went on at least once a week for a couple of months. I felt a little guilty about the Cherry Picker, but his letters from Uni were becoming few and far between and, whilst this man would put his arm around me and enjoyed having me lie with my head in his lap when I’d had too much to drink, he never took advantage.
Until one evening, he asked me to go to a different pub from the one where we met everyone else. This is all such a blur so you’ll have to excuse me if it’s disjointed. I just remember having some drinks and letting the alcohol take me. Then he asked if he could put his hand on my breast.
I have always had fabulous breasts. Too big for my small frame and yet so pert and upwardly mobile. I am not ashamed to say that, with the arrogance and impunity of my youth, I used them to full effect in the workplace. Sometimes I would wear diaphanous blouses without a bra to show them off, sometimes just a little boob tube to keep them in check without detracting from their swelling splendour.
On this day, I was wearing a pale blue summery cotton dress. Totally covered up, but the material was so soft to the touch, so sensual and clung to every curve, accentuating its fulsome promise. I nodded my head in a cautious agreement to his request. He turned us so that my back was to the wall and his body blocked me out from the rest of the punters. Very very gently, he placed his palm on the swell of my breast under the silky soft material. I caught my breath with excitement, feeling the reaction of my nipple as it hardened against the pressure of his fingers… but I couldn’t meet his gaze. I was scared. Afraid of where this was going. He was so much older than me, so much more experienced, so married… Every instinct within me told me to look him in the eye and challenge him, meet his desire head-on but I was too shy to lift my head and draw his gaze. I think he mistook the shiver of excited confusion that ran through me for real fear and he withdrew his hand. We finished our drinks as if nothing had happened and made our way to the train station and home. We continued to see each other for drinks but he never made any further advances.
Also at that time, I would go out for lunch with another male friend who knew both The Cherry Picker and The Sugar Daddy and suspected my relationship with both. From my less than subtle encouragements, he would regale me with stories from The Sugar Daddy’s social circle. With tales of minor indiscretions, major affairs and mental infidelities… some of which related to the Sugar Daddy’s wife. I don’t know if these goings-on had any bearing on the commencement of the Sugar Daddy’s interest in me. Maybe the thought of a young girl to boost his virility as he stared his wife’s dissatisfaction and his own middle age in the face?
Our strange relationship lasted for several months but when he heard that I had started seeing The Future Mr Cake, his calls stopped and he found an excuse to catch an earlier train which negated the need for the stop in the pub beforehand. He was ever the perfect gentleman.
I saw him again at a function some 20 years later. We did not speak, merely gave the acknowledgement of eye contact from across the room. His resemblance to William Shatner had only increased as they had both got older. It was such a shame. His lean, hard body turned to a beer bellied paunch. His eyes squashed into his puffy face with the skin stretched shiny tight and rosy over his cheeks.
I was now 40, two years older than he had been when our lives had brushed against each other. It was the year of my transition. The year I started to realise that I was beautiful and began to emerge from the cocoon. I had actually been taken to a party and I had made an effort so I was dressed in a skimpy little black dress that clung to my fit body in all the right places.
As usual my Husband had replied to my plea for approval with his usual response of ‘You look fine’ but I knew from the way the Sugar Daddy was watching me appraisingly that I looked far better than ‘fine’ and I revelled in it.
Originally posted 2007-10-22 04:30:00. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
His friend, the besotted eyes and the frisson in the pit of my stomach to know that someone loved me like that.
He would do anything for me, look out for me, bring me drinks and snacks without even being asked. He cared about me in a way that my beau did not.
Some might say he was a fool. Others that he could not choose where he loves, only listen to his heart.
Whilst kissing my lover, I would look over his shoulder to see that poor man watching us. Our eyes would meet and lock and I could almost hear his pain.
He would never try to steal me away because he valued his friend too much.
But he stayed and waited… and hoped.
Hoped that I would one day see the light and understand that he loved me more. That I had more in common with him. That he would make a better lover.
And love him back… as more than just a good friend.
On one occasion, I did make that choice.
It destroyed their friendship of years and ate away at any chance the new relationship could have had.
It was Elvis’s birthday on Sunday and this should have been posted then except for some dickhead who decided to use my name and send out emails which may or may not have been infected with something nasty. I really hope that no one clicked on his ridiculous link, although I suspect it was just an attempt to get someone to his real estate website.
But enough of this! Back to the wonderful Elvis Presley!
He was born on the 8th of January 1935 – you can do the maths to work out how old he would have been!
He cut his first record That’s All Right Mama, cut in July, 1954 in Memphis and released on the Sun Records label but it was Heartbreak Hotel which was his first hit.
The King of Rock and Roll is famous for his controversial performance of Hound Dog on the Milton Berle Show and three appearances on the Ed Sullivan Show in 1956, the last one of which saw him censored so that he was only shown from the waist up.
He was also a major part of my childhood, appearing in many films like Love Me Tender, Jailhouse Rock, King Creole and, of course, Viva Las Vegas. They were all regular fixtures on television in the summer holidays.
My friend’s mother adored him and we were all very sad when we heard that he had died in August 1977 of heart disease through drug abuse.
The stories of deep fried food and hamburgers on the toilet could never really diminish that screen and stage presence which saw people winding their arm up like a windmill in true Elvis fashion. I recall that we even remembered one of the moves in a karate kata as ‘doing an Elvis’.
But it was his music that I remember most. It punctuated my teenage years. Tears to accompany ‘Are you lonesome tonight?’ and ‘Fool’, which remind me so much of my teenage broken heart. ‘The girl of my best friend’ takes me back to a time when a young man would look at me with besotted eyes whilst his mate had his arm around me. A few weeks when I couldn’t decide between two chaps and was in turmoil.
And then the orchestras building up the emotion, along with that commanding and yet mellow voice which can send shivers down your spine, for three tunes that I cannot help but sing along to if ever they come on the radio – ‘In the ghetto’ ‘Always on my mind’ and ‘Suspicious minds’
Then I watched the compilation below and there were a multitude more memories – the German part of Wooden Heart, Burning Love, Glory Glory Hallelujah. They’re all favourites in their own way.
Ah, Elvis! A beautiful man in a white rhinestone catsuit or a black leather shirt with a voice that could melt any woman’s heart.
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