For Those Who Demand the Best, Here's Some Ivy League Porn

[+ FreshFluff]

Check out Crimson Cocks, which is a blog of crotch pictures submitted by male Harvard students. The owner of the blog claims to be a woman, specifically the one shown in the profile photo at the top of the page.

 

http://crimsoncocks.tumblr.com/

[rvwnsd]

I like the one whose cock reaches the 7 inch mark on the ruler, but started measuring at 1 inch.

[Kevin Slater]

I like the one whose cock reaches the 7 inch mark on the ruler, but started measuring at 1 inch.

 

It's called grade inflation, a rampant phenomenon in the Ivies.

 

Kevin Slater

[bobchitown]

They say the hardest part of Harvard is getting in. From the evidence shown here there are at least a few other "hard" things at Harvard.

[+ FreshFluff]

They say the hardest part of Harvard is getting in. From the evidence shown here there are at least a few other "hard" things at Harvard.

 

And from what I've heard, those hard things are getting in!

[bigvalboy]

Thanks FF, that was most entertaining. I liked the guy who measured his cock by the size of a chap stick. Now that's setting the bar low....

[Diverdan]

It never ceases to amaze me what people will put on their blogs, web pages, etc. But, I am not very attracted to a cock that is divorced from the body and the person. This certainly is an interesting concept, however. I wonder how many of these are really from Harvard boys !!

[AdamSmith]

Harvard boys !!

 

Please! As a Yalie is an "Eli," so is a Harvard man properly a "John."

 

(Irrelevantly comes to mind my favorite pop-cult reference to my alma mater, uttered by Thurston Howell III upon failing to teach the Caveman proper table manners: "Heavens, Lovey, he must be a Yale man!")

[+ FreshFluff]

But, I am not very attracted to a cock that is divorced from the body and the person.!

 

Well, many of the cocks are pictured on top of Harvard IDs. So while the cock may be divorced from the body, but you know it's elite.

 

Thanks FF, that was most entertaining. I liked the guy who measured his cock by the size of a chap stick. Now that's setting the bar low....

 

To be fair, that one was about four chapsticks long!

[+ FreshFluff]

Please! As a Yalie is an "Eli," so is a Harvard man properly a "John."

 

(Irrelevantly comes to mind my favorite pop-cult reference to my alma mater, uttered by Thurston Howell III upon failing to teach the Caveman proper table manners: "Heavens, Lovey, he must be a Yale man!")

 

Yep, Howell was definitely a Porcellian man. (The Porcellian is the oldest and arguably most prestigious of Harvard's all male secret clubs.) My possibly gay Nantucket travel companion said he got into the Porcellian, but he said he decided to join a different club because (1) the Porc's initiation involved riding a greased pig and (2) the guys in the club were mostly gay. Interesting.

 

Adam, were you a member of any of the Yale secret societies: Skull and Bones, Scroll and Key, or Wolf’s Head? We promise not to tell.

[AdamSmith]

Adam, were you a member of any of the Yale secret societies: Skull and Bones, Scroll and Key, or Wolf’s Head? We promise not to tell.

 

Regarding your travel confrere -- with all kindness, what a giveaway!

 

Regarding me, I can disclose a state secret. Being then a lit-clit type (from Prof. Geoffrey Hartman's lightly Germanically inflected pronunciation litewary cliticism), I kissed the asses necessary to get into the Elizabethan Club.

 

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/0/01/Yale_Elizabethan_Club_facade.JPG/894px-Yale_Elizabethan_Club_facade.JPG

 

http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elizabethan_Club

 

Our amusements were perhaps less exotic than those of the Bonesmen et al. One afternoon over tea and finger sandwiches, after a ritual glance at the Shakespeare folios kept in the safe there, we watched a pretentious junior faculty member (one J.D. McClatchy if that should tickle any insider's funny bone here) flounce up to Robert Penn Warren and say something characteristically pompous and vapid.

 

Red Warren drew himself up to his considerable full height and replied, "MISTAH McClatchy. Ah do not come to th'Elizbethn Club to discuss litrature. Ah come to th'Elizbethn Club to find out who is screwing who.

 

"Mistah McClatchy, who IS screwing who?"

 

Neither cognac nor Amontillado being on tap, Harold Bloom seldom darkened the door.

[+ FreshFluff]

Regarding your travel confrere -- with all kindness, what a giveaway!

 

You think? I started wondering after he sang "I feel pretty" in bed. :o (I wrote a thread about my experience with this fellow back in August.)

 

Regarding me, I can disclose a state secret. Being then a lit-clit type (from Prof. Geoffrey Hartman's lightly Germanically inflected pronunciation litewary cliticism), I kissed the asses necessary to get into the Elizabethan Club.

 

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/0/01/Yale_Elizabethan_Club_facade.JPG/894px-Yale_Elizabethan_Club_facade.JPG

 

http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elizabethan_Club

 

Our amusements were perhaps less exotic than those of the Bonesmen et al. One afternoon over tea and finger sandwiches, after a ritual glance at the Shakespeare folios kept in the safe there, we watched a pretentious junior faculty member

 

Is there any other kind?

 

(one J.D. McClatchy if that should tickle any insider's funny bone here) flounce up to Robert Penn Warren and say something characteristically pompous and vapid.

 

Red Warren drew himself up to his considerable full height and replied, "MISTAH McClatchy. Ah do not come to th'Elizbethn Club to discuss litrature. Ah come to th'Elizbethn Club to find out who is screwing who.

 

"Mistah McClatchy, who IS screwing who?"

 

Yes, hearing stories about who's doing who is exactly why anyone shows up to secret societies. (One can drink anywhere, and even Shakespeare folios get old after a few years!)

 

And thanks for the post, as I enjoy stories about secret societies. And to keep the thread on topic, perhaps you can tell us plebes whether the Elizabethan club members were, in fact, getting laid? If so, were they able to do so locally, or did they have to go down to NY?

[AdamSmith]

And to keep the thread on topic, perhaps you can tell us plebes whether the Elizabethan club members were, in fact, getting laid? If so, were they able to do so locally, or did they have to go down to NY?

 

Well, this was ca. 1980, when everyone slept with everything.

 

Yale at the time had already gone to mixed-sex not just dorms but suites, where 2 women could share a bedroom that in turn shared a living room and bath with another bedroom inhabited by 2 guys. One generally tried not to fall into romance with a suite mate, for obvious reasons of post-breakup awkwardness, but otherwise few inhibitions in that time just at the dawn of HIV/AIDS awareness.

 

Nor did we necessarily have to go to NY, as it often enough came to us! Thanks to one of the train lines from the city that terminated in New Haven, ejecting any drunks/druggies to stagger around New Haven long enough to panhandle their way back onto the train home. I remember one night being accosted by two such while walking back to my off-campus apartment, a pair of tall, skinny, attractive black women, very much under-dressed in typical hooker garb there in February. I took them, or they took me, home, where one of them turned out to be a TS, the other not, and a good time was had by all, for not a whole lot more than a warm place for them to spend the night.

 

Within the student body proper, it did seem that everyone eventually slept with everyone. One night while an acquaintance and I were hooked up I nearly, not quite, lost steam in mid-bonk when she happened to mention that classmate David Frum (one year younger than me) had been in that selfsame place the night previous. His politics then being no less odious to me than they are today. He looked exactly the same then as now, too!

 

Was all that strictly on topic?

[+ FreshFluff]

Nor did we necessarily have to go to NY, as it often enough came to us! Thanks to one of the train lines from the city that terminated in New Haven, ejecting any drunks/druggies to stagger around New Haven long enough to panhandle their way back onto the train home. I remember one night being accosted by two such while walking back to my off-campus apartment, a pair of tall, skinny, attractive black women, very much under-dressed in typical hooker garb there in February. I took them, or they took me, home, where one of them turned out to be a TS, the other not, and a good time was had by all, for not a whole lot more than a warm place for them to spend the night.

 

Oh, sounds like fun! I love hearing street pickup stories. Any male street (non-ts) guys, or were all of them women?

 

Within the student body proper, it did seem that everyone eventually slept with everyone. One night while an acquaintance and I were hooked up I nearly, not quite, lost steam in mid-bonk when she happened to mention that classmate David Frum (one year younger than me) had been in that selfsame place the night previous. His politics then being no less odious to me than they are today. He looked exactly the same then as now, too!

 

Sounds like you were going through a period of attraction to women then! Frum's wife, Danielle Crittenden, portrayed him as a staid, devoted nerd in her autobiographical novel, Amanda Bright @ Home.

[+ FreshFluff]

For those who want to see whole men, not just crotches, here's a better Ivy League naked boy blog for you:

http://ivyleaguedudes.tumblr.com/