A retired college professor attempts to explain his hunger for being bound and beaten (aka BDSM) by comparing it to a lust for, ahem, turkey
“It’s like when you crave a turkey,” he said. “You eat it and you eat it and you eat it, but you still want it. But now I’ve had enough. I don’t want turkey anymore. I’m full.”
The reason for his contrition? Read on
His life was saved last Friday by a dominatrix at the Nutcracker Suite on East 33rd Street, who was assigned to check on him after her colleague left him with a dog collar around his neck and a leather mask over his face, suspended a few inches off the floor.
A retired college professor attempts to explain his hunger for being bound and beaten (aka BDSM) by comparing it to a lust for, ahem, turkey
“It’s like when you crave a turkey,” he said. “You eat it and you eat it and you eat it, but you still want it. But now I’ve had enough. I don’t want turkey anymore. I’m full.”
The reason for his contrition? Read on
His life was saved last Friday by a dominatrix at the Nutcracker Suite on East 33rd Street, who was assigned to check on him after her colleague left him with a dog collar around his neck and a leather mask over his face, suspended a few inches off the floor.
I love that region of the language and iconography of cooking and eating where the words and images we use to describe culinary things and the eating process are the same as those we use to express concerns of the libido. If there is anything about the language of cooking and eating that is more amusing, only the words and imagery that refer to our atavistic (I hope!) desire to eat other people come close to providing a similar level of (albeit morbid) entertainment.
Henceforward, if you see me shuffling in front of a shop window while quietly chuckling over a display of Day of the Dead candy, you will have one less reason to doubt my sanity, and perhaps another to wonder how lust for forbidden flesh and the desire to eat something sweet got so mixed up.
They eat cannibals and look hot too! Be careful: the song is a true meme and you may become a vector. I picked it up at The Foodist, damn him, because I know I’ll be singing it all day. Pity me, pity my family and friends.
They eat cannibals and look hot too! Be careful: the song is a true meme and you may become a vector. I picked it up at The Foodist, damn him, because I know I’ll be singing it all day. Pity me, pity my family and friends.
I love that region of the language and iconography of cooking and eating where the words and images we use to describe culinary things and the eating process are the same as those we use to express concerns of the libido. If there is anything about the language of cooking and eating that is more amusing, only the words and imagery that refer to our atavistic (I hope!) desire to eat other people come close to providing a similar level of (albeit morbid) entertainment.
A Hunger Aritist (Redux) 
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