You can get your penis-vacuuming blog rated like a movie at Mingle.

I just did ours:

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It was such a deity-cursed surprise, I almost defecated myself.

All I got to say about this bull-feces is, “Hey, copulate it.”

:

Via BoingBoing, here’s an eye-popping* concept: space diving.

You close your eyes and leap, tumbling into the abyss. The curved horizon spins wildly. You let out a scream of terror as it rushes up toward you, and then you black out. Minutes later, a sudden jerk wakes you. This must be death, you think—your flesh meeting Earth at horrible speeds. But it’s the tug of your chute deploying at 3,000 feet. You realize you’re going to be all right. You glide in, touch down, and collapse in convulsions, traumatized. Through your tears you see your friends nearby, similarly undone but alive. You spot smoke on the horizon where, a mile away, your ship returned to the ground in an angry hail of twisted metal.

Two space industry veterans—Rick Tumlinson and Jonathan Clark—have teamed up to design a space diver suit, which will not only potentially enable astronauts to survive a space disaster, but might also attract the most extreme of extreme sport fanatics.

They have a very ambitious schedule: within a year, they want to design a suit for a dive from 120,000 feet, or nearly 23 miles up. (By comparison, most commercial jetliners cruise at about 7 miles up.) Within two years, 300,000. As the article puts it, you become a human meteorite. Pretty damn cool. With this invention, they could potentially have saved the astronauts in the two shuttle disasters. And there could even be applications for air travel that spin off from this.

But I have to admit, a fall from that height…it makes my toes hurt, just thinking about it.
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*Hopefully, not literally.