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Little-known sex-related movie trivia: Since the 1970s the movie Last Tango in Paris has been indirectly responsible for a surprising number of minor hip and leg abrasions and pinky-finger strains. The cause? That scene where the Marlin Brando character seemingly-effortlessly rips the panties from the Maria Schneider character.

Like many other things you see in the movies that trick is harder than it looks. In case you’ve ever wanted to try it yourself or with a partner, Cumingirl of the absolutely 100%-accurately-titled blog Christian Nymphos has a completely practical tutorial.

One thing that can be really passionate in the bedroom is having your husband RIP your panties off of you just before you make love.  But sometimes the fabrics are too hard to rip and sometimes your panties are too expensive to throw away!  If you are interested in adding this spice to your bedroom, then listen up to some quick and easy tips that will make it easy for you and your husband!

First off, you need to find some sexy panties (thongs work the best but any kind will do) really cheap.  Make sure that you KNOW they will fit you well, and then buy lots of them.  I found some lacy thongs on sale one time for $1/each.  There were just tons of thongs all thrown on a large display table in the middle of the lingerie dept.  I think I bought 25 or so that day!

Now, once you get home, put a pair on and stand in front of the mirror.  Imagine that you and your husband are making out and you want him to be able to just RIP those panties off of you so that you two can make passionate love!  In order to make it easier for him (and to make sure that he doesn’t hurt you in the process) you need a pair of fingernail clippers or scissors.  A knife will work but fingernail clippers or scissors work better.

She said it here.

I adore the group of authors at Christian Nymphos because it just so head-on contradicts stereotypes about the sexuality of people with profoundly-deep faith, and about people of different abilities and ages. I admire them too because they’re so up front about finding solutions to problems facing women who’s libidos are higher than their husbands who are also very committed to the tradition of marriage. But I digress…

Anyway, I won’t say how I know this but there actually are a couple of tricks to successfully tearing someone’s undies off when they haven’t been prepared first.

The first, most important trick is being able to quickly recognize when not to do it, whether its because they’re too nice, too comfortable, too expensive, or otherwise hard to replace or just because they’re not going to tear. There are more than enough other entirely mutual-mood-enhancing ways to remove underwear so why set your heart on that one particular way, at that particular moment, when you’re not 100% sure it’s going to be 100% pleasing for both of you?

Next tip? It’s a two parter. First part? You weren’t thinking you/he would just walk over, grab the waistband and yank middle-school-wedgie style were you? Didn’t think so! No. Again I won’t say how I know this but like a lot of things related to sex, romance, and role-playing undie ripping works, um, very well indeed after considerable, passionate hugs, burning kisses, strokes, caresses, locked eyes, sultry looks, flared nostrils, and just general all-round exploration… while still mostly clothed. And yes, it takes a little multi-tasking ability but while you’re losing yourself in each other’s embraces you want to reserve enough of capacity for strategic thinking to find seams or other weak points, and, if it looks like it’s a good time, to subtly test, pre-stress, and generally loosen them. That way when the time comes you’ll know where to start and which way to tear.

Next? Again don’t ask how I know but it doesn’t really ruin the mood if you get a tear going from the elastic of a leg band that stops dead at the waistband. As with a lot of role-playing it’s the thought that counts… plus a little deftness. If you do hit an extra-strong seam or binding before the whole garment comes apart just switch to one of those other ways to slip, slide, lower, otherwise get them the rest of the way off while staying in whatever character you and your partner have been playing.

Photo by Flickr user Andrew Huff. Used under a Creative Commons license.

Y’know? I’m pretty used to eating spicy food. And I’m pretty used to cooking with spicy ingredients.

So… y’know? If I notice (and I mean really notice! that I forgot to wash my hands before peeing, after after chopping a bunch of serrano peppers for some nice homemade lemon-curry chicken with a side of red-lentil and cabbage dahl…

Let’s just say it’s one of those things one’s partner doesn’t even know she or he should be grateful for that you either rarely cook with peppers and/or meticulously wash your hand afterwards. Or at least before you hop into bed!

And let’s just say sometimes you really want to wash your hands before you pee, m’kay?

Just sayin’

Happy HNT (or Half-nekkid Thursday!)

More like this here.

How did I miss posting this when I first composed it? Anyway, back in September Blue Gal explained why she reads Esquire Magazine instead of Cosmopolitan…

Cosmo’s sex advice for women: Wear your thong as a hair tie.

Esquire’s sex advice for men: “Your primary objective must be to make her very, very, very happy. Because it is easy to make you happy. You can do that all by yourself—even with one hand tied behind your back.”

She said it here.

...which explains why I read Blue Gal.

Matthew Yglesias says of a study that tries to claim that macaque monkeys conduct prostitution transactions. In the sense that sex is more than twice as frequent (3.5 times vs 1.5 times) when males that “pay” sex by first grooming females than when they don’t.

If you think about human society, “paying for sex” denotes a pretty specific kind of social practice—prostitution—and isn’t a catchall phrase to cover every mutually beneficial relationship that involves sex. You could probably do a study of married human couples that would show that sex is more likely after a husband is nice to his wife than after he’s been a jerk; I don’t think you’d call that a study about “paying for sex” among married couples.

He said it here.

That sounds about right. It happens to be the case that a lot of people imagine that “proper” men “pay” for sex through marriage. Which makes sense in those relationships where women have no interest in sex, whatsoever. Or who, because of artificial limits on social and economic opportunities imposed by the dictates of gendered culture they have no, zero, none interest in sex with the men they’re obliged to marry.

Oddly the article, and the study it describes, claims no parallels should be drawn between human and macaque behavior. Which is laudable I’m sure. Or would be if, rather than conclusions drawn the researchers and reporters hadn’t instead drawn premises.

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P.S. if I’m not mistaken I’m more likely to want sex 3.5 times an hour instead of 1.5 if, instead of just bending over the first “female” I’m on intimate terms with and “copulating” with her I instead spend time “grooming” her by putting my arms around her, stroking her cheek, murmuring things out loud that remind me why I appreciate her, burying my face in her hair, kissing, nuzzling, or biting her neck and shoulders, and otherwise engaging in the kind of “payment” we more often think of as, oh, I don’t know, foreplay!

Because, you know, foreplay increases men’s interest in and desire for more frequent sex. Something the subset of anthropologists and science reporters most drawn to moronic anthropomorphization of macaque (not to mention macaque-ization of humans) might discover if they ever bothered to try it.

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Seriously! The idea that only women “need” or otherwise benefit from foreplay is just… um… yeah, just try it some time. I mean, not to drag in the food issue or anything but don’t studies also show that people who eat food cold, out of the can, over the sink to “save time” also tend to eat less overall than people who take the time to actually enjoy their food as a cultural activity and not just a biological necessity? Well, same for sex, m’kay?