You’ve been scratching and clawing and squeaking like rats in a drainpipe, all of you desperate to see
Lambchop’s new work!
-xo
Tag Archives: sexy sex
Op/Ed
Lambchop would like to take this time to mention that she no qualms about promiscuity. Equal rights to be miserable and tangled in the mire of human emotions for everyone- gay, ask married, or otherwise! That is All!
-xo
…I know, I know, it’s seeeeerious
Dear Kitty Winn,
I am a single girl and I keep going to parties where I wind up drunk and passing out my phone number like it’s Pez. Then i live for a few days in fear and paranoia that boys with neck tattoos and wives are actually going to call me. Now, this would be my problem, except that none of these bedraggled suitors have even called! What gives?
-I know I’m unloveable
Sheila Take a Bow,
Buck up. Kitty herself was stalked by a mad Russian she entranced while doing a kicky Serbian folk dance at a party. But I mostly find that blacking out has the virtue of erasing all unfortunate acquaintances, and leaving me to start each day afresh, blissfully unaware of the doings of yesterday. You are lucky that Mr. Neck Tattoo does not lurk upon your doorstep- what would the neighbors think of your taste?
I am sure you have many charms in addition to being an alcohol sucking tartlet. If you can name at least two you can stop hurling song lyrics around. Try bowling instead.
-Kitty Winn
An Everlasting Love
Every girl should feel like they are loved by the sexiest man on the planet. It makes this filthy city a thing of beauty, and her sandwich taste better. If you are not doing it for your girl, try sweeping her into your arms, and whispering to her:
Andy Gibb Haiku
Everlasting Love
It’s so Tall, so Wide, so High
I won’t make you blue.
xo
Whore-tastic!
 |
 |
I really have to give the casting director of my dreams a raise. Not only do I have frightful nightmares that feature Christopher Walken, but last night I dreamt I was hanging out with a couple of prostitutes, played by Beverly D’Angelo and Ellen Barkin. It must be all that time I have been spending lately, hanging out with prostitutes. I aim to pick up some tips on how to pull off sleaze with aplomb when I hit 40.
xo
mmm…Bea
Bermuda triangulations
Dear Kitty Winn,
I just got out of a relationship, and have been playing the field, so to speak. My question is, whatever happened to pubic hair?! All of the young women of my recent acquaintance have either had none, or the most miniscule of landing strips. And they weren’t even strippers!
-just curious
Dear Curious,
So let Kitty get this straight, you’ve just been allowed back onto the field after a time out, and you’re going to complain about the length of the grass? Kitty simply cannot believe this impudence! A penalty flag is in order! Would you prefer astro turf?
Kitty is also perplexed by your wording…by “young women,” Kitty assumes you mean damsels of your same age, ostensibly adult. You wouldn’t by any chance be trolling grade school yards or anything of that nature? Because that might account for your findings right there.
Antipodean grooming is really a terribly personal choice. Kitty has heard of the Brazilian this, the Flemish that, even the Flying Swede, and while she may not personally buy in, who is Kitty to tell anyone what to do?
*Kitty unleashes a tinkling peal of laughter*
At any rate, a true lady should never reveal these delicate areas to anyone not prepared to fully appreciate them, no matter what the state of the flower bed. If you were more successful pitching your woo, you might convince a lass to leave a few weeds on the lawn. Until you are able to sustain an intimate relationship, Kitty suggests that you purchase a copy of the oirginal version of The Joy of Sex if the hirsute are your thing. Now trouble Kitty no more, you insolent snip!
Taxiing to Runway 3,
-Kitty
Fashion Police
Dear Kitty Winn,
Is thong underwear ever suitable for a man?
–anonymous, via internet
Dear Anonathong,
No. No. No.
And No.
Hyper-spanning fabric tucked between a man’s buttocks is something no man or woman wants to see, even if he is in prime physical condition. Which most of you are not. In the worst cases we must picture the sagging, sallow, or thin pancake variety of bottom with this unholy cloth divider. It stares us down like a highway’s no passing lane. Out of the question! Nor do we want our lover’s lovely giblets lazing in a hammock. We want them housed carefully, as though they might be worth something someday.
Crucial as these considerations are, I must return to your question, which does not specifically inquire about the appeal of this offensive undergarment. You ask if they are ever suitable. And there are exceptions, ninety-nine percent of which have to do with gay male pornography. Kitty is at a loss to explain this, the whys and wherefores of gay porn not really being my area of expertise. The remaining cases are as follows:
1. You are a Sumo Wrestler (technically, not a thong, but the aesthetic result is much the same)
2. You never ever ever want intimacy to progress beyond the moment this ghastly sheath is unveiled from your trousers.
There can be no two opinions on this point!
-Kitty Winn
Anchors Aweigh!
To those of you who just tuned in, Dan Savage left our Lambchop in the lurch on a very important intimate matter. But David has come to the rescue. I am reprinting the entirety of the correspondence, which contains a letter within a letter with a letter. As you are all so gosh darned clever, I am sure you can sort through it to get to the Naughty Bits:
“Honestly, I cannot leave you people for a moment. I take one little trip to Arizona to watch my boyfriend get inducted into his high school’s Distinguished Alumni Hall of Fame, and everything goes to pieces.
Here is the sort of thing you were up to while my back was turned:
Dear David,
I must tax you again for your opinion. You see, I wrote Dan Savage ages ago and even asked very nicely a second time, to no avail. I don’t want to plague Dan with some kind of Marathon Man reenactment “Is it safe?…Is it safe?”, so I turn to you for help:
“My friend wants to put me in an empty bathtub and pour bottle after bottle of champagne over me. To which I would happily consent, but I fear injury to my tender bits when sitting in all that alcohol. And though I hate to repeat unsubstantiated lore, I even heard *somewhere* that Natalie Wood ended up in a hospital after springing into just such a cocktail.
So help a young floozy out–is this risky business or can we pop our corks and have at it?”
-lambchop
David responds:
Good lord, I hope my mother is not reading this one.
All right, all right. As you might have suspected, the female anatomy is not something with which I am intimately familiar, so even though I was in the throes of agony recovering from severe dehydration and dashing off my taxes at the last possible moment, I took the time to consult with not one but two physicians on your behalf.
One, a gynecologist, said that nothing should go dramatically wrong, although the alcohol in the champagne might kill some of the beneficial bacteria in your vagina, resulting in a yeast infection. The other doctor said that the bath probably would not cause any harm, but she warns against getting up to any funny business with the bottle, as there have been cases of such things “becoming trapped due to the suction effect.”
So pop your cork, floozy. Christen the ship of love. But if anything unforeseen should occur (Natalie Wood did drown under mysterious circumstances), I trust you will tell the authorities you got this advice from the much put-upon Dan Savage and leave me out of it. ”
Well now, gentle reader, Vomitola has done its part! I bid you all smooth sailing!
xo
Fireside Chat
In which our Lambchop displays great Sincerity
We love David’s blog. Such a wag! That’s why I could not help but write when I noted that he condemns the word “smooch”. Since I often leave this word like so many rose petals in my wake, I had to know what there could be, in his opinion, to offend:
“…I wonder at the truth of “smooch” being your least favorite word! Do you prefer “osculations”? I like to throw “smooch” around when I don’t really want to offer or imply something so sublime as “Kiss”. Please explain your anti-smooch stance.”
and David responded so:
“My dear, it is not the concept I oppose, it is the word itself. To me, smooch is oily, falling in the same category as ooze and schmooze. It is dishonest and terribly, terribly wrong. For the act itself, I prefer kiss with a lesser inflection; even buss and peck have their charms. I stand my by aversion.”
Well, your lambchop has been guilty of many things, but this is a first for oily. Mother would be proud- her assertion that I am every bit as intolerable as Father (and by that I mean excessively charming) has once more been vindicated by a complete stranger. But I want to assure you, my attractive and well-paid readers, when I “smooch,” I truly, truly mean it.
I only want to add that it was extremely clever of David to reply with such an oily phrase as my dear. I nearly choked on my Batard-Montrachet.
smooch