You don’t hear a lot of men bragging about lasting “all night” anymore. Maybe that’s an unanticipated benefit of Viagra: such boasting would lead to speculation that a man had pecker problems only a pharmaceutical could cure. And, really, how many men want to admit to such a thing?

Besides, if a recent survey is to be believed, lasting all night long isn’t even necessary.

A survey of sex therapists concluded the optimal amount of time for sexual intercourse was 3 to 13 minutes. The findings, to be published in the May issue of the Journal of Sexual Medicine, strike at the notion that endurance is the key to a great sex life.

The researchers hope this will ease the minds of folks who, for whatever reason, are curious how their sex lives stack up against everyone else’s. So just remember, guys: the goal is to last longer than the commercial break. Do it, and she just might get your beer for you when it’s done.

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Apparently, you really can buy everything online these days… including the opportunity to pay child support for 18 or so years after winning an auction to have sex with a complete stranger.

A woman in Germany who became pregnant after an online sex auction has won a court battle to force the Web site that hosted the sale to reveal the names of the winners, so she can find out who’s the father.

Six different men won Internet auctions to have sex with the woman in April and May last year. They were only known to her by their online names, a spokesman for a court in the southwestern city of Stuttgart said Wednesday.

“The woman wanted to discover which one of the men had made her pregnant,” the spokesman said. “So she needed their contact details. Of course, if they’re not willing to go along with the gene test, she’ll have to take them to court.”

The woman asked the site’s operator to reveal the true identity of the men, but it refused, citing a confidentiality clause in its terms and conditions.

The court ruled in her favor, saying the child’s right to know who its father was took precedence.

Gee, and I thought I was lucky to get a pair of brand new Ferragamos for a mere $28 on eBay.

Anyone want to explain to me why it’s a bad thing to call an unwed, pregnant teenage girl (and the boy who knocked her up) sluts?

The law capping Medicaid’s nursing home benefits for senior citizens at $35 per day was created back in the 1980s. During that same time, inflation has nearly doubled. As a result, that $35 just doesn’t stretch far anymore, which means many low-income senior citizens in nursing homes are spending their “golden years” in misery.

Florida state Rep. Rick Kriseman has a plan to fix that by encouraging people to frequent strip clubs more often and buy more lap dances.

Kind of.

The proposed law, House Bill 751, would create a sales tax on “adult entertainment services” that would be fed to low-income nursing homes, the Sun reported. These funds would defray the cost of some services for senior citizens, including haircuts and trips to the movies.

Men throughout Florida may very well have good cause to rejoice if this Bill passes. After all, how can a wife complain when her husband announces he’s going to do something nice for his mother-in-law by stepping out for a quick lap dance?

So, imagine you’ve been married a while and the blush has worn off. Bathroom doors remain open throughout the performance. Your daily Happy Hour becomes the Hour of Dread as you postpone returning home, day after day. You don’t even bother with hall sex because it just seems like too much effort.

Then you get to thinking to yourself, “Self, I think I’m going to go get some nookie on the side. I’m going to go down to a brothel. I’m going to pay some stranger to get jiggy with me.”

Wouldn’t it just be a bitch to find that the hooker you just hired is your wife?

Now that another Thanksgiving is literally under my belt, I guess I can’t put off Christmas shopping any longer.

Shopping for my son is simple. Come mid-November, my son points at just about every commercial on TV and says “I want that!” At this point, he’s asked for so many things I can’t possibly go wrong. When it comes to buying him gifts, I tend to go overboard and then wind up on Christmas Eve, surrounded by wrapping paper and ribbon, trying to decide which of the excess can be held back until his birthday in March. Somehow every year I talk myself out of putting some away, probably because I know I’ll just wind up over-shopping for his birthday, too.

The Venomous Hubby is far more difficult to shop for, however. Years ago, I’d started getting into the habit of taking note whenever he saw something that caught his fancy, then adding them to an Amazon gift list so I’d have a backlog of ideas: James Bond DVDs, video games, a TV tuner card for his computer, whenever he said he wanted something, I hunted it down and saved the link in the hope of making gift-giving a bit easier.

Unfortunately, I’ve somehow managed to buy him just about everything he’d expressed interest in this year, which means I have absolutely no idea about what else he wants! To make matters worse, his birthday is December 12, which means that I’ve been pleading for two days for him to come up with a Wish List.

The answer’s always the same: “Oh, I don’t know. I could use some slacks, I guess. Maybe a new tie or sweater?” Those are so boring, though. They’re “Dad Gifts”, and something within me refuses to give up seeing his face light up with surprise and delight when he opens his presents on Christmas.

So while I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out what my husband secretly wants most of all, one answer has come to mind again and again: SEX. He is, after all, 100% male and a parent on top of that, both of which mean that as far as he’s concerned he never, ever, ever gets enough. I will begrudgingly admit that he might have a point.

Now, back when we first became parents, VH and I established one Christmas tradition that we’ve held onto steadfastly over the years: on Christmas Eve: after our son has finally — finally! — nodded off with visions of sugar plums dancing through his head (or, more likely, images of battles between toy soldiers and remote control miniature Abrams and Panzer tanks, since none of us have any clue what sugar plums are), we stay up and enjoy a few cups of spiked egg nog. Then we exchange a few special gifts so we can enjoy that “Wow” moment without it getting lost in the gift-opening carnage that starts the instant my son opens his first present Christmas morning.

Usually, the gifts we select to exchange on Christmas Eve are the most special ones, the ones we’ve spent the most time picking out for each other in the knowledge that they’re exactly what the other most wants. Last year he gave me a bottle of my favorite perfume, Chanel No. 5, and an autographed copy of a book by Anthony Bourdain. I gave him a hand-carved Meerschaum pipe and a vintage smoking jacket.

Then, of course, we had sex on the floor between the sparkling Christmas tree and the roaring fire. From what I remember, we both agreed it was perfect. Why mess with a good thing?

So this year I checked out an online adult site, Vibrator.com and browsed through the vast selection of sex toys. Talk about putting the Ho in the ol’ Ho, Ho, Ho! I had no idea there were so many different shapes, sizes and colors of vibrators!

But enough about me. I needed to find something for VH, so I bought a couple of erotic games, which are certain to light up his face and lead to that that “WOW!” moments since they ensure he’ll get what he really, really wants most: SEX, and lots of it.

Yes, folks, it truly is better to give than receive. But just barely.

Remember Kyla Ebbert, the blond, leggy young woman who started a brouhaha when Southwest Airlines kicked her off the flight for dressing inappropriately?

She’s posing for Playboy now.

Anyone smell a setup?

I’d raise my hand, but with this cold still having me under the weather, I can’t smell a thing. Not even her.

(Thanks to Jae for sending in that slink!)

For those of you who are looking for nude or naked Hooters Girls, sorry. I don’t have any pictures. I don’t even know any women who work there.

I do, however, know where you can get the Playboy: Girls of Hooters or a copy of the Hooters Desert Showdown: 5th Annual Swimsuit Competition (DVD).

Or, for the culinary lovers out there, perhaps you’d rather pick up a copy of the Hooters cookbook (and a Hooters Waitress costume for your girlfriend/wife to wear at dinner)?

You’re welcome.

Anti-pornography groups recently complained about various magazines sold at military installations in violation of a 10-year-old blue law. A letter co-authored by the groups explained that their members had personally observed the sale of materials they deem sexually explicit at several locations, including the Pentagon itself.

Naturally, the DOD looked into the matter.

Leslye Arsht, deputy under secretary for family policy, writes that “the board reviewed Celebrity Skin, Penthouse, Perfect 10, Playboy, Playboy’s College Girls, Playboy’s Lingerie, Nude, Nude Playmates and Playmates in Bed and determined that, based solely on the totality of each magazine’s content, they were not sexually explicit.”

That’s right: lucky DOD employees were tasked with the responsibility of thumbing through skin magazines on the clock to decide whether they were too racy for sale.

Your tax dollars at work, folks. Did you get your money’s worth?

The FDA has just issued a warning that Viagra may cause sudden hearing loss.

Women have long known that horny men aren’t listening to a word we say. We just didn’t expect there might actually be a medical reason for it.

There’s a little old lady — around 70 years old or so — on the Fox Morning Show dispensing advice on how to use pantyhose to tie your spouse to the bed for some kinky sex.

She looks exactly like my grandmother at that age.

I think I’m going to need therapy now.

Two words, when used together, can cause even the most brave man to wince. They are: “needles” and “balls”.

It’s ok, you can pause here to catch your breath, gentlemen. But don’t relax too much. Turns out that what you’ve suspected all along might be true: your family jewels are, indeed, precious… and not just to you!

A method to harvest stem cells from adult testes and reprogram them into functional tissue may provide an easily accessible and plentiful alternative to controversial embryonic stem cells, researchers said.

So far the study has only shown success using cells harvested from mice testes. (I’m assuming they hired only sharp-eyed scientists for the extraction.) But if it works with humans, stems cells harvested from your sac might very well be therapeutic for other men suffering heart attack, stroke, Alzheimer’s disease, Parkinson’s disease, and diabetes.

I’m betting they’re going to have a hard time finding volunteers for their human clinical trials. Like I said, even the bravest of men get a bit nutty when a nurse approaches with a needle aimed at their crotch.

C’mon, sing along if you know the tune: ♫ “Every sperm is sacred…” ♫

It’s been sixty years since the Kinsey report revealed what folks do when they’re doing the deed. Now, studies are focusing less on the process and more on the purpose.

A new study by psychologists at the University of Texas at Austin asked people why they have sex. The answers were somewhat surprising. Sure, the number one reason cited: “I was attracted to the person,” but there were plenty of other less-predictable responses, too.

For instance, headaches and “not tonight, honey” may go together in most people’s minds, but respondents of both sexes said they’d had sex “to get rid of a headache.” They didn’t say whether it worked.

In all, Meston and colleague David Buss catalogued 237 reasons, the most popular of which predictably involved lust and pleasure. But others ranged from “I wanted to feel closer to God” to “I wanted the attention” to “I wanted to keep my partner from straying.”

A few respondents even said they wanted to give someone a sexually transmitted disease.

Oddly enough, “because it feels good” isn’t mentioned in the article at all.

In yesterday’s “Nine Nibbles,” I indicated that I’d ordered my copy of the “D.C. Madam’s” phone records. At the time, Ms. Palfrey planned to release 13 years worth of her escort service’s phone records on CD to those agreeing to her terms of disclosure.

Last night, Senator David Vitter (R-La.) acknowledged that his name appears on these records, albeit from a period preceding his 2004 run for the Senate. This is not, however, Vitter’s first “red light escapade,” according to Louisiana Conservative.

Surprising as Vitter’s “confession” may be to some, I find it wholly self-serving. By all appearances, Vitter intended to remain quiet about his activities until contacted by agents for Hustler magazine publisher Larry Flynt who informed the Senator that his number appeared on these records.

It’s that very kind of false sincerity that makes brilliant today’s move by Ms. Palfrey to fully release the records online. Her company’s clients were, in many cases, big name politicians who professed to family values in public while engaging privately in the very actions which they condemned.

Yesterday I exchanged a nice series of emails with Ms. Palfrey following her receipt of my request for her phone records (not then available online). Ms. Palfrey noted that my web sites don’t seem like a forum which focuses on corruption in politics, a point which I had to concede. I gave up long ago any hope of unmasking corrupt politicians: like those tiny insects you occasionally find under a rock, they’re just too good at fleeing whenever exposed.

That Ms. Palfrey has taken on this task is nothing short of impressive to me. Faced with criminal charges and accused of trying to “make life miserable” for those who used her company’s services, Ms. Palfrey’s position seems to be quiet clear and old fashioned: judge not lest ye be judged.

Therein lies the irony: despite politicians regularly making use of Ms. Palfrey’s escort service, she alone is facing criminal charges. Why isn’t the law cutting both ways on this?

Palfrey describes her company as engaging in ‘erotic fantasy’ without illegal sex. If that is the case, then there is no plausible legal basis for bringing criminal charges against her. If she did run a prostitution ring, then her clients — including Senator Vittner — broke the law, too.

Regardless of whether sexual activity took place or not, I find Vittner’s hurried apology to be curiously timed. He said nothing until Larry Flynt’s agents contacted him: would he have remained silent indefinitely had Hustler’s publisher not had leverage? If so, what does that say about the rest of Vittner’s moral fiber? About those as-yet undiscovered politicians now sitting back and conducting polls on Vittner’s approval rating before deciding themselves whether to confess?

If you’ve got investigative or computer skills and would like to help Palfrey’s team uncover the cowardly politicians, download the phone records and get to work. It may be the only chance you get to screw a politician just as good as he’s screwed you.

One little nibble here, but it’s the most hilarious thing I’ve seen in days!

All the best stories start that day, don’t they? Even for Israel’s ambassador to El Salvador who, apparently, really likes to party.

The Israeli ambassador to El Salvador has been recalled after he was found drunk, naked and bound in sexual bondage gear in his yard, an official said Monday.

Tsuriel Raphael has been removed from his post and the Foreign Ministry has begun searching for a replacement, said spokeswoman Zehavit Ben-Hillel.

Two weeks ago, El Salvador police found Raphael naked outside his residence, tied up, gagged and drunk, Israeli media reported. He was wearing several sex toys at the time, the media said. After he was untied, Raphael told police he was the ambassador of Israel, the reports said.

The British Broadcasting Corp. reported that he could identify himself to police only after a rubber ball had been removed from his mouth.

Oddly enough, there’s been no mention about the identity of the person with whom Raphael was partying.

All I can say is: I was here.

(H/T: Slublog)

If your blood pressure has recovered from last week’s entry about pregnancy being the latest “fashion craze” among teenage girls, be warned that it’s about to go through the roof again.

A groundbreaking study on porn use by 13- and 14-year-old teens shows an alarming number are watching “more times than they can count” and their parents are unaware.

“If you’re 13 and you can’t put a number on the times (you’ve used porn), that’s a little frightening,” University of Alberta researcher Sonya Thompson said, adding 35% of boys fell into that category along with 8% of girls.[...]

The Internet was the most common way for kids to get access to porn, with about three-quarters of students reporting such contact.

Thompson found almost one-quarter of the boys watched pornographic DVDs or videos “too many times to count” and 35% said the same about Internet smut. The corresponding figures for girls were 4% and 8%.

So, according to Islam, male suicide bombers can look forward to 72 virgins when they make it to heaven. So, what do female suicide bombers get when they make it upstairs?

Answer: more of the same ol’ same ol’.

The Quran itself describes little about the specifics of the afterlife, but it does note that believers will find huris, or maidens “of modest gaze, whom neither man nor jinni will have touched before them.” (Every believer can end up in heaven; martyrs just get there faster.) Respected commentator Al-Tirmidhi said in a hadith that every man will have six dozen huris in heaven, but very few commentators enumerated the rewards for women. Ninth-century scholar Al-Tabarani did argue that women will be reunited with their husbands in the next world, and those who had multiple husbands can pick the best one to be their eternal spouse. (Other commentators added that a woman who never married can marry any man she wants in paradise.)

Which begs the question: what’s waiting for a female suicide bomber who was the only widow of a male suicide bomber.

Self-described “house bitch” Ilyka Damen writes about the tension between feminism and being a SAHM:

…underlying everything in my life is the knowledge that I need that income stream that my husband generates. It makes all dynamics unequal; sex, dinner, chores, everything.

This, I submit, is precisely why there is marital maintenance available for either spouse.

Every day, I find new reasons to be thankful that my teenage daughter worked out her rebellion years ago and cemented her own healthy self-esteem (albeit at the expense of mine) and is now a level-headed kid with academic ambitions and the ability to reach them. Because stories like this are the kind of stuff that no longer keep me up at night. (Well, not usually, anyway.)

LONDON — The newest fashion among schoolgirls is getting knocked up, according to one pregnant 14-year-old whose four friends are also expecting.

British teen Kizzy Neal says she’s been approached for advice from other pregnant girls her age ever since she conceived, reported London’s Daily Mail.

“When my friends see my bump they say they wish they could have a baby, then three weeks later they’re pregnant and don’t know what to do,” Neal said.

“It seems to be fashionable to get pregnant. … Teenage girls think babies are cute, but they forget the physical side of being pregnant, then having to give up your own childhood to look after a baby,” she told the paper.

Neal says she got pregnant the first time she had sex with her 13-year-old boyfriend.

Sounds like it’s about time to introduce teens to a truly vintage fashion accessory: the chastity belt.