We held the GangWise Project program at Plumsted Monday evening (Sept. 28.) The program was a great success! Attending were: The Mayor, Chief of Police, Police Officers, School Principal, Town Council, Guidance Counselor and people from the community. We had 30 adults & 7 teens prresent.
The audience was totally engaged and everyone felt the program was so valuable. As always Edwin Torres made a huge plug for Ocean County Partners working together with the library – we are truly unique to the State of NJ and making a difference!
The following deserve so much credit for their efforts in promoting the program:
The Plumsted staff for connecting so well with the community – especially Rachel Lavoie-Dohn!!
Our GangWise Partners
OCL Public Relations (sending letter to Police & Mayors, Connect, Media and more)
All our presenters Edwin Torres (Gang Expert), Rory Wells (OC Asst Prosecutor), Jasmine Long (ex-gang member) & Joanne Schuh from the OC Health Dept. Jasmine also brought a minister from the Crips in California, now living in Jersey City
Here is a link to photos on Flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/43026447@N07/
NOTE: Our presenter Jasmine Long (ex-gang member) that talks with teens was lucky to attend this program as the previous week she was beaten and “pistol whipped” for her anti-gang efforts in schools, libraries and across the state. Unbelieveable!
I may be on some sort of unannounced blogging hiatus, but how can I possibly go without writing a word on the arrest of Roman Polanski ?
The facts are well-known and I will keep it short: Polanski was accused in 1977 by the authorities of plying then 13 year old Samantha Gailey with champagne and a sliver of a quaalude tablet and then having sex with her during a photo shoot at actor Jack Nicholson’s house. As a part of a plea bargain, Polanski pled guilty to unlawful sexual intercourse with a minor, but the judge refused to accept the plea, thinking it let him off too lightly. Ultimately Polanski fled to France, and has lived for the last 32 years without arrest, till the events of last week, when he was arrested while trying to enter Switzerland where he was going to be honored at a film festival.
Normally, I would be mildly indifferent to this incident. But because it is Polanski, I cannot. Since my early undergrad years he has been my favourite director, aye, the greatest of all time. His movies have an astonishing ability to move and horrify and mesmerize my insides, and some of them, such as Bitter Moon, are part of me in a sense I cannot adequately convey. Like a true fan, I have collected all his works, famous and less-known, and I have hunted down his autobiography in some obscure book-shop and then read it cover to cover. I know every trivia about him that’s worth knowing. I have loved him with all my heart and cried for the tragic misfortunes that have marked his life. So naturally, I feel an extraordinary affinity for him and his fate.
So what really happened all those years ago with this 13 year old girl? First of all, I have always believed that statutory rape, especially with older victims (those who are in their teens), is an entirely different and far less serious crime than actual rape. Not just because the act is consensual but also because the age of consent is such an arbitrary construct. But Polanski’s case is even more interesting. For Polanski has always maintained that while (consensual) sex did take place, no drugging happened and the girl represented herself as an adult at the time of the event. I believe his version completely. Indeed the probation report itself quotes one of the witnesses as saying, “She appeared to be one of those kind of little chicks between — could be any age up to 25. She did not look like a 13-year-old scared little thing.” And if we were to accept that Polanski reasonably thought the woman was 18, I do not think he deserves to be charged for anything.
Could it be that my thinking is biased due to my immense admiration for the man? Possible, but if it is biased it is so in such an inextricable way from my being that it is hopeless to try and separate it out. And that’s why this post had to be written. For this is after all a personal blog, and Polanski’s fate is of personal importance to me.
And it all happened in the city I live in currently!
I, the Penis, hereby request a raise in salary for the following reasons:
I do physical labor.
I work at great depths.
I plunge headfirst into everything I do.
I do not get weekends or public holidays off.
I work in a damp environment.
I work in a dark workplace that has poor ventilation.
I work in high temperatures.
My work exposes me to contagious diseases.
Sincerely,
P. Nis
The Response
Dear Mr. Nis:
After assessing your request, and considering the arguments you have raised, the administration rejects your request for the following reasons:
You do not work 8 hours straight.
You fall asleep after brief work periods.
You do not always follow the orders of the management team.
You do not stay in your designated area and are often seen visiting other locations.
You do not take initiative – you need to be pressured and stimulated in order to start working.
You leave the workplace rather messy at the end of your shift.
You don’t always observe necessary safety regulations, such as wearing the correct protective clothing.
You will retire well before you are 65.
You are unable to work double shifts.
You sometimes leave your designated work area before you have completed the assigned task.
And if that were not all, you have been seen constantly entering and exiting the workplace carrying two suspicious-looking bags.
Godmother: The Secret Cinderella Story – Carolyn Turgeon – 288 pages
“Lil is an old woman who spends her days shelving rare books in a tiny Manhattan bookstore and lonely nights at home in her apartment. But Lil has an intriguing secret. Tucked and bound behind her back are white feathery wings–the only key to who she once was: the fairy godmother responsible for getting Cinderella to the ball to unite with her Prince Charming. … But then one day she meets Veronica–a young, fair-skinned, flame-haired East Village beauty with a love of all things vintage and a penchant for falling in love with the wrong men–and suddenly it becomes clear to Lil that she’s been given a chance at redemption. If she can find a soul mate for Veronica, she may right her wrong and return to the fairy world she so deeply longs for….” -Random House website
I’ve been lazy with the writing of plot summaries lately, but when the publisher’s website does it well, who am I to resist? At any rate, Godmother was a mixed bag for me. When I read the description I quoted above, it sounds like something I’d want to read–and it was along the right lines. You had some elements, like the fairies’ underwater home, that were unique and surprising. Your prose was generally lovely, too, and you did a great job with crafting some mystery around Lil and revealing only little bits of back story at a time. The flow and the organization was good, and I was with you. Then I hit the “twist” at the end, and the whole thing was soured for me. You pulled an Alice in Wonderland, and I felt tricked, like I’d been denied what could have been a genuinely interesting fantasy novel or (with some changes) a fascinating novel about the human psyche. It turned out to be neither, and I was pretty disappointed.
Even so, I don’t like to end a review on a bad note. I rather enjoyed myself up until the end, and I can see why people who aren’t me might appreciate the twist. Three stars in my opinion, but as always, that’s just my opinion.
Love,
Wanna check out this title for yourself? Try the Indie Bound or ABC bookstore finders!
I have always wondered how intense my cravings for sex could be, how long that blaze would last before it would begin to ebb. Surely, my body can be pulled that tight for very long before snapping. And I never imagined that the cravings would actually be painful. It feels as if my whole body is wrapped in barbed wire. When I began my shift yesterday, knowing that I would be closing with Clint, I was floating on cloud nine. Daisy was tap tap tapping impatiently, waiting for him to touch, grab, and caress me in those oh so familiar ways. After an hour and not the least bit of flirtation, I decided to turn it up a notch. I had packed an outfit that Daisy was fond of: a jean miniskirt, a short white tank, and 5 inch heels that I wear for bedroom use only. I was going to surprise Clint with the outfit at the end of the night, but decided to tell him about it first. He immediately wanted to see it and forced me to put it on in the backroom while he watched, the door cracked just enough to allow him to poke his head in. The store was, again, virtually empty. He watched me walk around for a bit and I could hear his teeth grinding, his fists clenching. And that was about the same time he decided to tell me, “I can’t stay late tonight…” I spun around, the heels grinding across the cold concrete and spat out questions, demanding reasons, why he would be so bold as to say that yet he’s been playing with me all week. “It’s not that I don’t want to, I’m meeting my mom tonight,” and at the time it sounded like the worst excuse ever. I vowed I would make this night a living hell for him. I dropped to my knees, a long drop with the added five inches, and kneeled infront of him, hands clasped infront of me, “just a blow job…please? Pretty please? I can be fast,” He bit his lip, shook his head and apologized. Daisy was already up in arms, she rarely ever gets rejected. When she can’t win, she takes it out on mybody. It has been years since I felt the wrath of Daisy.
Clint wasn’t helping the predicament at all as he would still flirt, knowing I was doing my very best to ignore him. Everytime I gave him a cold shoulder, he would do something cruel like tug my hair back or pinch my sides. I tried to sing that Patty Loveless song, “I Try to Think About Elvis,” over and over in my head, but Daisy would not allow me to think about anything else other than his long, hard shaft pressed inbetween my thighs. After a couple hours, the pain was extreme and felt like a bowl of boiling water being poured down a funnel directly into my uterus. It was hard to stand up straight or focus on anything but relieving that pain. Clint was grinning everytime I looked up at him and casually suggested that I go into the backroom and help myself. For the first few times I was appalled he would even suggest such a thing. Daisy, of course, jumped at the idea. I could feel those imaginary fingers working their way across my most sensitive areas, stroking relentlessly. I dropped to a bench in the kids section and tried to catch my breath, my wrists burning now with the long forgotten urge to slice that delicate flesh. I would never return to that…after years of battling the x-acto, I promised myself I would never, ever do that to myself again. And here I was remembering how tender those moments were, locked in the bathroom with the razor against my skin. Lost in my own morbid thoughts I hardly noticed Clint approaching. He was asking me what I was doing, if I wanted it that bad then I should just go in the back. Without noticed what shoe it was I casually pointed at a box that didn’t match the others surrounding it. Clint picked it up and read the name of the shoe, “mm…’Daisy’, where does this one go?” I bit back a smile as a I heard Daisy giggling behind my ears and took that as a firm sign. Without another word I stood up and walked quickly to the back as Clint watched. My hands were busy unfastening and unzipping before I even reached the back door. I could hear Clint, that low gruff laugh, before the door shut completely.
I was sitting in one chair with my feet propped up on another, one hand buried between my thighs, when Clint walked in. He stood at the door with that huge idiotic grin across his lips. Daisy was giving it all she had, ignoring my soft cries inbetween panting. She coaxed me off the chair and my knees hit the concrete with a faint crack. She forced me to bend over the chair, my ass hovering above the floor. Her fingers dug deep, prodding the g-spot relentlessly, as Clint paced back behind me. I jumped as his hands lowered across my bare rear, his fingers kneading the tension from my posterior muscles. He spanked me a few times to elicit a sharp wail, muffled by the chair. As he stood once again infront of me I saw his hard on pressed firmly against the inside of his pants. Oh…Daisy, we’ve succeeded. And I was expecting her to stop as the pain had been absolved…but she continued her efforts. I knew I wasn’t going to come…but she wouldn’t stop until Clint thought that I had relieved myself thoroughly. What a bitch! I faked an orgasm: my body shuddering from exhausted muscles, not a flood of electricity; the sharp cry that crossed my lips paled in comparison to the real deal. But it worked…and he was horny and hard as a rock, which pleased Daisy for the time being.
A little later Clint promised me that when he returned from vacation next week he would be thirsty and would lap up every last drop before fucking me senseless. “That is, ” he said, “if I don’t see you before then…I might try and make plans to meet you up here either Friday or Saturday.”
I won’t hold my breath, Clint. For now I’ll be okay.
UNITED AUTHORS has just had its inaugural meeting at Rowfant House in Sussex, a historic venue for the literary great and a Setting fore historic dramas films. Authors living south of London are invited. The meeting was well attended and the main speaker was Mark Le Fanu Generals Secretary of the Society of Authors.
The objectives are:
to offer mutual support to authors,
to invite quality speakers to talk about pressing professional issues to writers and illustrators,
to run self-help workshops and to network within the industry.
Authors have to increasing struggle against ageism and corporate publishing. There is a great danger that modern technology and distribution will kill literature as we know it. Instead we may be entering a world of books with celebrities names on the outside and the identity of the ghost writer hid within. We may be faced with no new classics because books are no longer edited and unsuitable for teaching in schools.
Fleshlight History – Interview from S.E.X zine
Interview:
Steve Shubin: Inventor of the Fleshlight Artificial Vagina
A few years ago, when the first Fleshlight arrived at Xandria, everyone was immediately captivated. Here was something that looked for all the world like a big flashlight, but when you unscrewed the “lens cap,” what greeted you was a very realistic-looking artificial vulva and vagina, a very nifty male masturbation toy. Immediately, catchy slogans came to mind: “The perfect tool for your tool.” Xandria markets several other male masturbation toys, from vaginal sleeves to inflatable dolls, but the Fleshlight is one of our favorites. It’s beautifully realistic. And housed in its flashlight-like canister, it resonates for men with a unique sense of humor. How did it come about? And what kind of person created it? To find out, GET S.E.X. tracked down Fleshlight’s inventor, Steve Shubin, 47, a former Los Angeles country police officer.
S.E.X.: How did you develop Fleshlight? What inspired you?
Shubin: About seven years ago, my wife and I got some good news and some bad news. The good news was that she was pregnant–with twins. The bad news was that she was over 40 at the time. She’d already had several miscarriages. And the twins were identical, meaning that they were developing in the same sac. These factors added up to a very fragile, high-risk pregnancy, with a big risk of miscarriage. Our obstetrician told us: No intercourse until the twins are born.
On the one hand, the ban on intercourse made perfect sense to me. But on the other, hey, I’m a man, and the thought of no intercourse with my wife for her entire pregnancy didn’t sit too well. Sure, there was oral sex, and yeah, I had my hand and hers, but for me they’re just not a complete substitute for vaginal intercourse.
My wife and I have always been real open with each other about sex, and we began talking–joking really–about substitutes I could use temporarily until the twins were born. Not that I have such an enormous sexual appetite, but nine months seemed like a long time to go without. We weren’t into a mistress or hookers. And inflatable dolls with plastic vaginas were too tacky. So I began fantasizing–thinking out loud, really, about creating a realistic body sculpture with orifices that could be used for solo sex, then removed for cleaning. She said to me: You know, you really might be on to something. I was up for the challenge, and my grandfather had been an inventor, so maybe it was in my blood. We figured the project would take a couple of months and cost about $50,000 to get a marketable prototype and go into business.
S.E.X.: What did it actually take?
Shubin: Eighteen months and $750,000.
S.E.X.: Yikes!
Shubin: Yeah, it was a lot of money, but my wife was a former professional athlete who had done well financially. And we’d done well with some investments, so we decided to invest in body sculptures that had solo sex applications. In 1995, we got a patent on the idea — injection-molded full body sculptures, not blow-up dolls. They were very realistic and beautiful. But they were also very expensive. After retiring from police work, I’d run a few small businesses, and had a good feel for what it takes to make a business work. It soon became clear that we could never make the business fly financially by just selling full-body sculptures. So we decided to focus on the removable orifices, hence the artificial vulva/vagina.
S.E.X.: Where did the flashlight housing idea come from?
Shubin: I asked myself: What appeals to men? I figured: Tools. And I wanted the product to project a sense of humor, a recognition that all men masturbate, that it shouldn’t have to be this furtive thing. I figured that packaging with a sense of humor would make the product seem like more fun. I played around with a few tool ideas, but when I stumbled on a flashlight, the name Fleshlight immediately popped into my head, and that was it. We patented it in 1997. The title of our patent is: A Device for Discreet Semen Collection. Of course, the extra design work, and patent, and manufacturing ran into a lot more money. I’m no chemist or engineer or product-development guy, so there was a learning curve. I figure we’ve spent six years and $2 million to get Fleshlight well launched. Fortunately it’s done well. We’ve sold 80,000 so far.
S.E.X.: How did you come up with such a realistic-looking vulva and vagina?
Shubin: By taking molds from real women’s bodies. We went to the strip clubs in the San Fernando Valley near Los Angeles and pitched the dancers on modeling for us. We offered them $100 an hour to sit for a casting of their genitals. We used the same stuff dentists use to make dental impressions. You apply it like putty. It hardens. You pull it off, then redo it in clay, and use an injection mold to cast it using plastic-rubbery flesh-like material. Several strippers were very open to participating. We always had a woman present so there were no issues of soliciting or sexual harassment. Of course, our models had to shave off their pubic hair and use Vaseline so that the mold would pop off them once it had set. But all the women enjoyed working with us. It was easy money for them–just sitting with their legs spread, no dancing, no sex, no working a crowd for tips.
Once we pulled the molds off the models, we sculpted them a little to enlarge the vaginal lips and clitoris a bit. No woman I’ve ever seen has a vulva the size of the Fleshlight’s, but our enhancements make the product more appealing to look at and more satisfying to use.
S.E.X.: What about your family? What did they think of you going into the sex toy business with a male masturbation product?
Shubin: I’d never been in a sex-related business. At the time my wife and I came up with the idea, I had teenage sons from a previous marriage. We’d always been pretty open about sex in the family, and very open about the need to masturbate. In fact, I used to encourage my sons to masturbate before dates to calm the beast within, if you will, so they would be less likely to do anything they’d later regret with the young women they were seeing. So my wife and I simply told them what we were planning to do. At first, of course, our family conversations were all about the sex of it–men and masturbation. But after a few weeks, things changed and suddenly in the family we were discussing product development. My eldest son, who was just 20 at the time, got really into the technology of making the molds. He had quite a flair for it. Today, in addition to doing our molds, he now makes molds for Hollywood. He started out doing full-body molds of actors’ bodies for scenes where they get shot up. He’s branched out from there. Did you see the movie, Magnolia? At one point, it rains 10,000 frogs. He made frogs. Or how about the film, Centennial, where Robin Williams starts out as a robot? My son did his machine face.
S.E.X.: How have you marketed Fleshlight?
Shubin: At first, we thought our main market would be medical. We took it to Jocelyn Elders, the former Surgeon General who got dismissed for advocating masturbation. We took it to the Centers for Disease Control and AIDS researchers. Our idea was that county health departments could distribute them as a way to help prevent sexually transmitted diseases. The medical people we took it to all loved Fleshlight, but they were unanimous in the opinion that we should sell to the general public. So we did–through sex stores and catalogs like Xandria. The humor of the flashlight design has really helped. Guys often get a Fleshlight as a gag gift. Their first reaction often is: I’d never use this, but, hey, it’s cool. Then, of course, they start using it, and like it.
There are really two kinds of sex–solo sex and partner sex. To my way of thinking, they’re independent of one another. They satisfy in different ways. Partner sex involves love and intimacy and physical closeness. Masturbation is more of a straightforward physical release, or a personal time-out, a way to relax and dissipate tension. Every man does it. We’re just trying to make it a little more fun.
S.E.X.: Do you need lubrication to use Fleshlight?
Shubin: Absolutely. In fact, we provide some with it. You can’t use Flashlight comfortably — or for that matter, any male masturbation toy — without good lubrication.
S.E.X.: What kind of customer feedback have you gotten?
Shubin: That’s been the most rewarding part of this whole business. We’ve gotten a surprisingly large number of letters and emails thanking us. A few weeks ago someone wrote saying that we deserved the Nobel Prize.
S.E.X.: Do you have any new products in the pipeline that Fleshlight fans might be interested in?
Shubin: Yes, Sex in a Can. It’s an artificial vulva-vagina housed in a 24-ounce beer can. We think it’s even cooler and funnier than Fleshlight.
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