Just the Tipple

I was just driving north of the Black Hills of South Dakota on the Wyoming side of the border when I spotted this interesting structure off the highway and had to investigate.  It’s an old 1800s coal mining structure called a tippel, specifically the Aladdin Coal Tipple which was made into a nice little historical park.

Up top a short path were remnants of the old coal mine with the carts and tracks and the air shaft.  It was fenced off so I didn’t go all the way in, you know, just enough to see what what it was like.  Of course I took the opportunity to show off my shaft!

Just the Tipple!

See who else has something to display


Digitize: SS#395

Did you know that the DNA information in a single sperm contains 37.5 MB worth of data? Which means that an average ejaculation almost instantly transfers roughly 1,500 terabytes of data. – Gizmodo

Sintax: Down-load complete!

See what other cyber naughtiness people are up to:


SS #393: Pagan Circle Ritual

I made a Halloween-esque multiple exposure set on a trip to Mushroom Rock State Park in Kansas.  As the link shows, it’s been a photo op for many decades, but I think I’m the first for this kind!  It was windy, so I had to set my tripod down further from the rock than I wanted to, and on the ground, but it still turned out okay.



See some other sexual rituals at Sinful Sunday!


SS #391: I Am…Hidden

“Underneath these clothes, I’m naked.” – somebody


On red barn

In red state

Religion is conserved

Better is deserved

Casting shadow

Light of day

Hidden urge

Desires purged

Leaning blue

To thine own self be true!


Sinful Sunday Week 390

Toadstool Geological Park is known for its fossil beds and grey mushroom-like formations erosion-carved from sandstone and volcanic ash.  But if you search the barren, monotone strata diligently enough, you may spot the bad-boy of the badlands, the Purple Mushroom Tip, it’s smooth biology peeking out from the course, weathered geology!


As always, click to see the biological bounty offered up on Sinful Sunday!


You may also peruse my other pics from my nude hike around this fascinating site.

Feeling Salty

Feeling salty and grey so this trip to the Great Salt Plains National Wildlife Refuge matched my mood.  I wrote a post for Wicked Wednesday about my last chance of the year to complete an Ironman triathlon.  Well I didn’t.


I was most concerned about the swim.  I had 2 1/2 hours to complete it.  I did it in 2 hours and 26 minutes.  After that, I had until 6 pm to complete the 112 mile bike ride.  I got pulled off the course with half an hour until the deadline due to a technicality that the police intersection presence in town was set to stop at 6:00 and there was “uncertainty” of them being in place for my ride through town in the first 7 of 11 miles remaining (the final 5k or so was in the park).


I’ve failed to finish ultramarathons my fair share of times and wasn’t fine with it, of course, but I accepted it as it was on me and my training or beyond human control due to injury, etc.  But this time was different.  My pace was there, albeit barely.  The problem is that I registered for the beginner wave of the swim, which was completely reasonable, my being a beginner after all!  But once there, I found out the beginner’s wave was the final wave, not the first as I and everybody I’ve talked to agreed would be the logical assumption.  That meant I started 20-25 minutes after the first wave, which was the wave I’d been in if I hadn’t selected beginner.  That meant 20-25 minutes less time to finish the bike!  I fail to see how this benefits a beginner!


Long story short, being in the beginner wave is supposed to set up new triathletes in a better position, but it mathematically, truthfully set me up for failure.  I feel cheated and I think I have a sound argument that I was cheated.  This was the most disappointing and infuriating race experience of my life by a wide margin.  Now it’s a full year before another shot at completing an Ironman.  This cast a pall over everything else I’ve accomplished this year and will eat away like acid in my stomach all off season.  I still feel a little sick.

Sinful Sunday 389

This is the only multiple exposure set I did in the Black Hills.  I tried for a nudist community look.  It was at Gordon Stockade, which was risky.  It is a small, totally enclosed place with only one entrance and exit which is both good and bad.  It was also at the end of a 100 meter or so walkway from the parking lot.  The sun was going down behind the hills and I was the only one there, and figured from somebody driving up and walking in, I’d have at minimum a 30 second window.  I put a pair of shorts in each of the cabins, but still risky.  That’s why you see some of myselves running!  It probably only took 20 seconds, but seemed a lot longer at the time!


Due to the camera set-up and myself checking if the coast was clear, this part has the look of a voyeur getting caught peeping.


Please click the lips below to see who else did something naughty!SinfulSundayLips150

Sinful Sunday Week 388

This week I’m sharing some photos I took at a quirky little one-horse town in South Dakota from my tri trip.  It’s an evolving bike sculpture in the town of Pringle, which is (in)famous also for a fundamental polygamous branch of Mormons.  I didn’t know that at the time, so I guess I wasn’t the only one being a sexual deviant!  The sculpture appealed to my like of cyberpunk dystopian landscapes.  And you know Pringles, once you drop (pants), you can’t stop!  So I took three pics that turned out much better than I thought they would!

My face behind the spokes and axle give my head a cyborg-ish look I think.

I’m also submitting this for the Pieces of Jade Scavenger Hunt for public art!

Click the lips to see who else is being a deviant this week!


Friday Flash No. 22 — Beauty Queen

Soda Jerking

“Hurry up, Barb!” chided Nancy. “I can’t wait for you to see this!”

Barbara checked her make-up again in the rear view mirror then stepped out of Nancy’s beautiful cherry red 1953 Chevrolet Bel Air and ran her hands nervously down her poodle skirt. The fun-loving, mischievous, and some would say (did say) floozy Nancy had been working on breaking down the “prude” Barbara by taking her out on Saturday nights to rock-and-roll dances and street drag races, sometimes even participating with her Bel Air as the anxious Barbara gripped the leather upholstery to the squealing as Nancy goosed it after the flag was dropped. Barbara wasn’t sure if it was the tires or her doing the squealing!

Nancy held open the door and impatiently pushed Barb through. Inside behind the counter, Barbara saw a line of six soda jerks, in their white hats and white shirts with black bow-ties. But there weren’t any girls, just the line of guys. Cute guys!

“Uh, where are the other contestants?” Barbara asked Nancy in confusion.

“Oh please, Barb, it’s not that kind of beauty contest, what a drag!” Nancy said, eyes rolling. “You’re the judge, not a contestant! This is a…stopcock beauty contest!” she emphasized with carnival barker flair. The judge? Stopcock, what?

“So Daddy-O, are you ready for the show?” Nancy asked the nearest guy, leaning over the counter looking at something. Then she grinned big and turned and winked at Barb, “Oh yeah, they’re on the stick all right!”

Barb was more confused than ever as Nancy took her by the elbow and ushered her around the counter where she gasped and froze! Below the waist, the six soda jerks weren’t wearing the white aprons she was expecting, in fact they weren’t wearing…anything! Not only were they not wearing anything, but their “stopcocks” were sporting woodies, sticking out hard and proud!

Barb flushed deep red as Nancy watched her, looking really jazzed! “So which one do you fancy?” asked Nancy. Barb swallowed hard. Nancy rolled her eyes again, “Oh don’t be such a wet rag, Barb!  Here.” She took Barb by the elbow again and pulled her toward the nearest “stopcock.”  “What do you think about this one?”

She didn’t know if it was possible, but Barb thought she flushed an even deeper red as she looked down at the long, veiny shaft and smooth, purple tip straining up at her. She gulped. “Nice, huh?” said Nancy, reading her expression with amusement. Then on down the line they went, judging cocks, smooth and veiny, longer and thinner, shorter and fatter. At the end, Nancy held out a blue ribbon, “Okay doll, which one gets the prize?” Barb’s eyes went back to #1. Nancy grinned, “Excellent choice! Well, you do the honors, tie on the ribbon!”

Barb’s hands trembled as she looped the ribbon under the two full balls, over the shaft and tied the ribbon around the first soda jerk’s exceptional cock, making it even more hard! “Thank you doll, now for the real award!” proclaimed Nancy with lust in her eyes. Barb thought she was going to faint as Nancy got down on her knees and started to take the prized shaft into her mouth!


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