IMG_9454Most of us, faced with word of an impending blizzard (“Biggest storm of the last 30 years!”), would make plans to stay indoors. Not us. We marshaled our forces and set out for the frozen heart of NYC. You know how it goes. The cold never bothered us, anyway.

Of course, the “biggest storm of the last 30 years” turned out to be a tempest in a teapot. Not even a tempest really. A flurry in a thimble, maybe. But there was enough snow on the ground for snowmen to sprout like toadstools all over our beloved Sheep Meadow. We even saw one igloo.

And, arctic explorers that we are, we braved the elements in the semi-altogether, books in hand (except when cups of steaming hot chocolate took precedence). Bracing doesn’t begin to describe it.

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Snowman construction was a group exercise. We gave it a little head (what? what?), then added some other appendages…

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Do we prefer summer temperatures? You bet your ass we do. But it was lovely to be out and about in brazen defiance of nature’s dictates for a change, not just society’s.

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Onward. Spring can’t be far off now…

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IMG_5086So our last post highlighted the photos we took over the past year that you all clicked on the most. But there are others that are particular favorites of ours, either for purely aesthetic reasons or because of the event they recorded or for mysterious reasons all our own. Call it “Editor’s Choice.”

Herewith, then, our Editor’s Choice photos, two dozen hand-picked images, presented with love.

It’ll be warm again soon. But not soon enough.

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IMG_5605Happy holidays, all. We’re between events currently, all in sugar comas (or ham comas, or champagne comas, or what-have-you), girding ourselves for the polar vortices to come. At least, we tell ourselves, the days are getting longer.

In the meantime, we thought we’d do our annual round-up of the images from the year just past that you lot seemed to like the most, based on how many times you clicked on them. Now, this could be misleading: sometimes a given post got an abnormal number of clicks because it happened to coincide with a spurt of attention we got, due to coverage in a newspaper or magazine, for instance, or on Reddit. But overall we think clicks are at least a halfway decent proxy for interest.

So without further ado, the most popular images of  2014, divided into Public (i.e., out in the park, or the rooftop pool of a popular hotel, or a wine bar with huge plate glass windows exposing us to the world) and Private (i.e., a private roof, a private room in a restaurant, a private spa).

PUBLIC:

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PRIVATE:

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IMG_9397For most of the year, each person at one of our events reads whatever she wants, and though we share recommendations, we don’t generally swap books with one another. But once a year we do, at our annual Secret Santa book exchange. Last year, we held it at a science-fiction bookstore in Brooklyn (an excuse to get naked amid row upon row of wonderful, lurid covers); this year, we chose a spa in Koreatown called Juvenex. Which meant that in addition to a wildly eclectic and intriguing selection of books (see photo, below) we also got to enjoy soaking tubs filled with floating lemons, a sauna shaped like an igloo, a steam room so powerful none of us could take it for more than 5 minutes (but what minutes they were while they lasted!), and a variety of scrubs, massages, and facials. Oh, and tea and melon and pineapple. Yum.

We were joined by a journalist from Styleite.com who steadfastly remained clothed even in the steamy spa environs, despite being surrounded by 17 naked women (and one equally naked man). We felt bad for her! But who knows? Maybe next time she’ll feel confident enough to join in.

And now: on to the real Santa! Just a week away. We’ve been good, sir, we promise! In any event, we’re confident we won’t get lumps of coal in our stockings. Because, well, no stockings.

Merry and Happy, to all our fans and followers, and may 2015 be a glorious one, with nudity and justice for all. :)

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IMG_9306Thanksgiving is about family, not just genetic but spiritual. Kurt Vonnegut called the people who don’t happen to be related to you but who belong together with you in some more meaningful and fundamental sense your “karass.”

Well, we spent the day before Thanksgiving celebrating the holiday with our karass, the group of smart, confident, body-positive women (and two or three supportive men) who populate New York’s most unusual book club. There were books on hand, ranging from The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. LeGuin to Stop This Man! by Peter Rabe, but we didn’t get much reading done, not when there was wine to drink and truffle-laced pizza to nibble and chocolate fondue to finish things off; not when there were old friends and new to catch up with, some having come from as far away as Texas and California to be with us; not when there was the joy of lounging about in the warm environment provided by Ayza down on Carmine Street, while outside the giant plate-glass windows freezing sleet was coming down hard. (Ah, the looks we got from some of the startled passers-by! What must they have thought? An oasis in the desert couldn’t look more mirage-like than we must have on this cold, cold, wet day.)

It is a wonderful feeling to share the holiday with people you care about. Getting to share it naked in the heart of Manhattan makes it even better. We wish all of you could have the same opportunity, wherever you might be — if not this time around, then sometime in the not-too-distant future.

And to all the members of our karass, in diaspora around the world, we wish a very happy holiday season. Remember, if you ever find yourself in NYC, you’ve got friends who’d love to meet you.

(How? Simple. Just drop a note to toplesspulpfiction@gmail.com.)

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IMG_9120For several years now, we’ve talked about visiting Manhattan’s Museum of Sex, but somehow it never happened, mostly because the folks who ran the place didn’t answer our tweets and emails. But a few weeks back we finally resorted to the old-fashioned approach and showed up in person to demonstrate how well-behaved and urbane we are. It must’ve worked, since they allowed us to come as a group to experience their FUNLAND exhibit, which puts a sexual spin on carnival attractions.

The thing kicks off with a caped barker ushering you into a hall of mirrors, a tricky, pitch-black area of dead ends and (consequently) fleshy collisions among participants.

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Then on to a booth where you toss balls to make mechanical penises race across a field, then a climbing wall where the hand- and footholds are sculpted body parts.

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But the centerpiece (and the reason we really wanted to come) is a bouncy castle made of giant inflated breasts. Points to the designers for diversity: the place has a variety of shades and colors. But it’s the size of the things that really impresses — you instantly feel dwarfed, returned to infancy or, to be more bookish about it, like Gulliver in Gulliver’s Travels, straddling the Brobdingnagian girls’ gargantuan nipples. (What, you don’t remember that scene from the cartoon version? It’s in the book, trust us.)

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We also checked out an odd exhibit of gyrating mechanical puppets and one exploring the life of porn superstar Linda Lovelace (of Deep Throat fame, and sure enough you enter to a wall-sized projection of LL deep-throating some fortunate fellow).

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Was it worth a visit? Oh, yes — it’s not every day that you get to bounce like a little kid again, or hang from a wall-mounted cock, or watch an act of fellatio blown (you’ll pardon the expression) up to King Kong proportions.

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It ain’t the Metropolitan. But on a rain-swept autumn afternoon, there are worse ways to kill an afternoon. And a bouncy castle made of giant bare breasts has to be one place in the city where no one could possibly complain about our ordinary person-sized ones going uncovered.

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IMG_9013Yesterday, on a brisk and blustery November afternoon, 21 of us gathered for a lesson — our first! — in acroyoga. A combination of acrobatics and yoga, it proved the perfect antidote to the pre-winter blahs, teaching us the rudiments of Bird Pose and Throne and other suchlike, following a warm-up of stretches, planks, and Downward Dog.

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Leading us in our adventure was yogini extraordinaire Lotsie Cash, who instructed us not only in the physical skills necessary to suspend each other’s bodies upside down in mid-air but also the self-confidence, trust, and wisdom embodied in the practice. She was a pleasure to work with and, though conspicuous in these photos as the one person wearing clothes above the waist, totally non-judgmental about our enjoying the session either topless or fully nude.

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Our thanks also to Dunkin’ Donuts, for filling their signature Box O’ Joe with hot chocolate instead; to Tate’s for making a gluten-free chocolate chip cookie that totally doesn’t suck; to Pearl Studios for not minding a dozen-and-a-half naked women in their midst (and three naked boys); and Amazon.com for rushing us a pile of yoga mats on ridiculously short notice.

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Fun was had. We did things we didn’t know we had in us. And once you start down that path, who knows where it might end?

Suddenly winter doesn’t seem so bad…

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