wsc

Without much refresher research and relying on an increasingly suspect memory, Ancients in Egypt, Babylon, Assyria, and Canaan, I think, probably among others, had temple prostitutes, which were exactly what it sounds like; you get screwed and the gods get your money. Pretty much the same as now, but minus the fun parts. When the people of the God of Abraham moved into Canaan, their one and only God told them not to mix with or be like the Canaanites, with their many gods and unclean ways, which presumably included the temple prostitutes. I'm not surprised that a religion centered around foreskins suffered from sexual hang-ups. But much of the initial antipathy toward sex workers arose among the children of Abraham, not so much because of the sex aspect, but because of their association with what were seen as false gods. It's almost undoubtedly more complex and nuanced than that, but it's at least part of the mix.

Touching on the religion connection to morality and the role and place of God in such matters, Christopher Hitchens, the sadly departed evangelical atheist, provided an enlightening perspective. Hitchens went through the history of mankind's explorations and discoveries about the cosmos, including the Big Bang, followed by the inflation and expansion of the newly minted universe, the vastness and scale of the cosmos (hundreds of billions of stars in hundreds of billions of galaxies), the birth and death of stars and their planets, and the possibilities and probabilities of widespread life throughout the universe. He then went on to describe the origins and evolution of life on earth, its long history and almost incomprehensible complexity and variety, it's vitality and its fragility, and the long ascent that produced the hominin species, culminating in modern Homo sapiens; that is, Us! And, he then said, all this so the Pope could tell us we can't jack-off. Draw you own conclusions.

Good heavens! and in the realm of each to his own - one's chest should not be busier than one's bedspread, especially in a case where both seem to scream, I've made some poor choices.

I began using the services of professionals when I was no longer attracted to men in my own age group. I knew what I wanted in a man's appearance and was willing to pay to get it. At least I'm deep enough to know I'm shallow, to paraphrase Niles to Fraser. The morality, or lack of it, lay in the way the partners treat and consider each other; as humans deserving of respect and consideration, or as pieces of meat or furniture, or as ATMs with feet. And as regards legality, why is it illegal to sell that which one can give away for free? It seems times are changing, but the gears grind slowly.

Their relationship, bad as it, and they, were and are, at least provided fodder for one of Joan Rivers' greatest lines. On Fashion Police, there had just been shown some female celebrity in a black neck-to-ankle dress, leather back and front, black lace on each side. Joan said, "The last time I saw something that long and black, it had had Kim Kardashian's teeth marks all over it." God, I miss that woman!

To each his own and I wish him luck. But I'd advise that he keep his day job for things like food and rent, and not depend on his high class exclusivity to bring home much bacon. I find his appearance -what I can see of it- at or slightly above average for one in his profession, but sense through his self-description and announced selectiveness, that his personality might be the biggest thing a partner would have to swallow.

You had me at Obey.

I have an odd brain at times, or maybe just a one-track mind. The first thing I thought of when I read the thread title was, Tarzan in a tree. We now return to our regular program, already in progress.

Which is the cuter critter? I like the puppy, but mostly envy where he's resting, between those wide open legs with boots ready to ride. Yippie io ki-yay.

Just don't get it stuck in your butt. I've read that's been going around.

I find this young stud sexy as hell. (Even though he doesn't know how to wear a mask. ? )

Would love to see this boy in The Nutcracker. That ass looks like it could.

If I were given a pick-list of lines least likely to be used to compliment an escort, "eyes like a lemur" would have definitely been in my top three. He is, however, leaning to the cute side, and has an admirable appendage.

I'd pay by the hour to lick those pits and wait until I was told that I could go. Followed by, "Same time next week?"

As they say in the submarine navy, "Dive! Dive!"

I can't afford Reno, even if he did escort. But I'm setting up one those machines with its own apartment and visiting it on weekends. We'll order in.

In perhaps no other way my "type," the glasses, the eyes, and the mind that might lie behind them, are extremely enticing. Can we talk? And then...?

Doctor, I don't think think I have enough muscle in my diet. Can you recommend someonething?

Are the shoes the only wood they've got? 4F! Next!

My second favorite kind of whipped cream!

When I read the thread title, I was picturing an altogether different kind of weapon, one that would give "cocked and loaded" a wholly deeper meaning. Oh, well. Shoot at will! Will! Duck!!! (Time to lay off the Eggnog for a bit. Happy Christmas to all.)

Stupidity.

I'm not sure why, but this somehow put me in mind of a poem: I have miles to go before I sleep.

Would absolutely love a front/face pic of this one, if anyone can provide. I find this rear view and the broad shoulders very intriguing, as an appetizer leaving me hungry for more.

I would take any description that includes the term "blast radius of destruction" as a warning at the highest level, and cry out "Clear!" as I discreetly and hurriedly scamper away.