Reading about New Orleans has always been a fave of mine. Anything Southern gets to me really. We Southerners are pretty colorful people in general, and it just stands to reason that where we live is just as colorful. I was driving down a main highway a few weeks back and spotted two white toilets sitting on either side of a driveway to mark the entry. Yep, toilets. Lol I’m serious.

I’ve also seen tires painted all kinds of colors then buried into the ground half way to form a wall for a driveway. Last week I saw this gorgeous wrought iron gate with a beautiful scenic drive stretching out from it lined with Bradford pear trees and on the brick pillars framing the gate? Concrete gargoyles. Passed a manufacturing plant for brick the other day and there were two concrete pig sculptures out front on the lawn. Yep, pigs. I swear, I just could not make the leap from pigs to bricks.

I know you’re thinking, “She’s visiting Redneckville quite a bit, isn’t she?” Well, yeah, Redneckville is all around you in the South. But that’s part of its charm. You can visit a fancy spa that charges you obscene amounts of money to pamper you two blocks north of where you can drive down a country road and let your main squeeze check you for ticks.

I love my sweet South. Wouldn’t want to live anywhere else. From the palm trees of Florida to the pine trees of Carolina, it’s all good. There’s nowhere else like it in the world. Big, bustling cities. Small, just-a-stop-in-the road towns. Roads that lead to absolutely nowhere, turn you around, and take you back to where you started. Exquisite cuisine ranging from the spicy flavors of New Orleans to the famous seafood of the Atlantic Coast’s town of Calabash. Grits are a plenty. Salt-cured ham and barbecue that will melt in your mouth. Succulent fruits and vegetables you can fry, boil, broil, grill, saute, or just plain eat raw.

Then there is the way of life. If you like it busy—go for it. But if you like it slow—sit back and enjoy. I remember sitting on my granny’s front porch with a little fan made of white lace, listening to the whippoorwills–still do that sometimes too. I remember an electric fan she had that oscillated and had a very distinctive hum. I remember the corner drug store that had the soda fountain with dark wood floors and ceiling fans that stirred the air just enough to make you think you’d landed in heaven on a hot summer day. And you can still find some of those corner drug stores here today.

But the South is progressive too. Home to major corporations like Coca-Cola down in HOTlanta. We have beaches from the Gulf of Mexico all around and up the Atlantic Coast. Mountains that go on forever. Hot springs, caves, gem mines. The South has everything. It’s worth exploring. Whatever you’re looking for, you’ll find it in the South. It’s a vacation heaven and a wonderful place to live. Exotic and yet so simple.

Where is your heaven on Earth?

It’s not like I’m learning any new tricks in my personal life. TMI? Well, just sayin’.

Anyway, I found out last night that 77 is one of the latest things couples have going on. When I saw that pop up I thought…Whoa! If 69 is good then 77 has got to be even better. Well, just stands to reason, doesn’t it? Then I found out what it is. Lying side by side, his chest to her back, rear entry position, but while moving you stretch out and it forms double 7s. Jeez…must have been a mirror on that ceiling for them to have figured out it looked like a 7. I thought it was going to be something I’d never done before. Old news.

Sooooo…I kept looking. There had to be something exciting for me to see somewhere. Or at least something that would make my mouth fly open. And there was. A new sex toy. The Cone. I saw that and immediately thought of orange road cones. Then I saw the pic. Don’t you just love it? All pink and rubbery. Nice. Uh huh. Are my words dripping sarcasm here? Can you feel it?

Okay, I go to the site where this thing is sold. It’s a vibrator. A $120 vibrator. Yeah, and for that much money it better bring me roses too! In case anyone is interested, I’ll put a plug in for the site so you can read the full description of this product as I’ll only be giving you snippets and my commentary. http://www.bettersex.com/Vibrators/Clitoral-Vibrator/sp-the-cone-vibrator-2758.aspx

Now granted, I haven’t tried this thing, nor will I. I’m not so hard up that I need to spend that much money. And if I were so inclined to spend that much money, statements like “powerful 3 Volt 3000rpm gold brush motor with 16, yes 16, pre-programmed vibration patterns” would scare the hell out of me! When you start talking volts and rpm—I am out the door.

And that’s not all. You can “climax while in doggie style”. Alone? I guess you could, but I kept having visions of that and somehow this cone sticking out like that just didn’t work for me. Now the person doing the pitch for this toy suggests you use it while in bumper-to-bumper rush-hour traffic. Guess now we know why there are so many accidents that time of day.

Here’s the kicker. It was kind of late when I was reading about this. I’d been on a live chat promoting my latest release, A Scarlet Memoir, http://alpheratzpress.com

Yes, shameless promo. You knew it was coming, didn’t you? So anyway I was tired and this was the last thing I was doing before I went to bed. I got to the part where it describes the product’s dimensions. Talk about eyes getting as big around as saucers and mouth flying wide open! Did that really say four and a half feet tall!

I put my reading glasses on. No. It said four and a half inches. Okay, the little marks were really tiny. Sue me. I think next month when I look for a blog topic I’ll stay away from all the toy sites.

Here’s hoping everyone gets to swill down at least one glass of green beer tomorrow! Happy St. Pat’s Day!

There’s a secret war being waged. It’s been going on for thousands of years while we go through life blissfully unaware that someone—something—is out there jockeying for a place in our quiet existence.

The battle to determine how best to cover our men’s genitalia continues to rage.

I was at a big Valentine’s Day chat on the Midnight Seductions Authors group Saturday- http://groups.yahoo.com/group/midnightseductions -and just happened to post a pic of two truly hot guys in their underwear—one in boxers, one in briefs. The caption read: boxers or briefs?

This little pic generated some hoots and hollers, lots of playful chatter, with women lining up on one side or the other. By the end, however, we’d all decided commando was the true preference. And that should probably end this blog post right here and now. Nope. I’ve got lots to say on the subject of underwear. Stand back, give me room.

Here in the South, a lot of our guys still cling to the traditional whitie tightie—pun intended, and that’s just fine with me. I think I’d be really upset if ol’ Bubba stripped down to a thong. To each his own, of course, but there’s something oddly comforting about those bright white Fruit of the Looms. They’ve been around for quite a while, and it doesn’t look like they’re going to become obsolete any time soon. At least I hope not. Besides, on the right man, they’re not going to stay on him that long anyway. Commando is indeed where it’s at.

People have actually written about the history of underwear. Men’s and women. When I saw that, I kind of figured they’d start out with the old stand by—the fig leaf. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find a reference to it anywhere, although I did see a nice pic in a men’s muscle magazine the other day with a guy standing in front of a waterfall wearing nothing but a leaf. I kept imagining him taking a step back and the force of the water knocking that leaf right off his…

Well, the caption said it was a fig leaf, but unless it’s some variety of fig tree I’m not aware of, that leaf was way too big—which made me wonder about the fig leaf cover up in the Bible where Adam and Eve hid their nakedness behind the leaf as a result of their shame over eating the forbidden fruit. The metaphor being pejorative in nature, of course. It didn’t hide much. In other words, everyone saw their shame.

Leather loin cloths were around seven thousand years ago. Now, I know some men wear leather today, but to me that would be pretty sweaty—and not the good kind of sweaty either.

The ancient Greeks used wool to cover their manhood. Talk about chafing! I’m beginning to wonder about who invented baby powder. But that’s for another blog.

Today’s underwear can be over the top and sexy as hell. In addition to those whitie tighties, boxer briefs, and plain old boxers, men now have a choice in a range of explosive color and style. How about thongs, jockstraps, and slingshots? Mesh, please? The pic up top is a sheer mesh jockstrap. It comes in a variety of colors too.

I love the slingshot. I even used that design in my latest book, Latin Rhythm. Here’s the snippet:

Wet, black hair buffeted his shoulders. His swarthy skin glittered with water droplets in the dazzling sunlight. Ripped muscles moved up and down his torso with fluid grace. And, oh my god, barely-there fluorescent orange-and-black swim briefs left nothing to the imagination. His bulky load packed into a tight slingshot said it all.

Want to see a slingshot and some other sexy male underwear? Take a look at this site: http://cocksox.com I so love the header. Although I do have concerns about what that guy is reaching for—or is he scratching?

For a look at male underwear over the ages visit: http://manstouch.com/mensunderwear/historyofmensunderwear.html I particularly love the slide show on this site. There’s one image/painting of a man looking a bit Sir Walter Raleighesque (not sure how to spell that), and his dog is in the pic. The dog seems to have homed in on what I can only describe as a codpiece. Gives new meaning to the term ‘boner’ and looks a lot more like the dog’s lunch than anything else. I guess this look helped with advertising a man’s size too. But as a woman, I’d have questioned the authenticity of the packaging. Hell, I do that now!

Any way you cut it, men’s underwear has changed over the years. It makes me wonder if men pay attention. Well, I guess they do or there wouldn’t be a need for all the changes. But I suspect a man decides early on which style suits him best, and all the wilder variations are reserved for playtime.

I’ve got a kid who lounges around in silk South Park, X Box, Rolling Stones, and Bugs Bunny boxers. And that’s just for hanging out. He prefers the boxer briefs for actual underwear. The men in my life have mostly worn briefs. Although, a few have enjoyed the freedom of boxers. In the early nineties, there was a trend amongst young women (sixteen to twenty-five, I’d say) to wear a pair of men’s boxers on top of their jeans. Thank God that trend is over!

So what’s your SO’s preference? Is he into the form fitting briefs or those loose-fitting boxers? How about the combination boxer-brief? Have you ever purchased him a pair of naughtier-than-hell thongs? Did he look at you like you’d lost your mind or grin and put them on, following up with a sexy dance just for you?

Ya’ll will have to excuse me now. Bubba is calling.

For a look at my slingshot-wearing hot Latin hunk, pick up a copy of Latin Rhythm at Pink Petal Books. http://pinkpetalbooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=6&products_id=84

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