Wanna See Some Nudity For Cash 23
🛑 ALL INFORMATION CLICK HERE 👈🏻👈🏻👈🏻
Wanna See Some Nudity For Cash 23
Part of HuffPost Parenting. ©2022 BuzzFeed, Inc. All rights reserved.
I've never refrained from changing clothes in front of them, or leaving the door open when I shower, or nursing babies without a cover. Because I want them to see what a real female body looks like.
Writer, wife, and mom to four energetic little boys. Lover of zombies, baking, and science. Blogger at FightingFrumpy.com.
Sep 11, 2014, 11:32 AM EDT | Updated Dec 6, 2017
This post was published on the now-closed HuffPost Contributor platform. Contributors control their own work and posted freely to our site. If you need to flag this entry as abusive, send us an email.
Meet Our Body Image Heroes See Gallery
Subscribe to our parenting newsletter.
Part of HuffPost Parenting. ©2022 BuzzFeed, Inc. All rights reserved.
Writer, wife, and mom to four energetic little boys. Lover of zombies, baking, and science. Blogger at FightingFrumpy.com.
I live with a houseful of boys: four, to be exact. But they're still relatively young -- so there are no nudie mags stashed between mattresses, no stealthily-accessed porn sites that someone forgot to erase out of the Internet history, nothing like that. As much as I'd love to think my kids won't be curious, I'm well aware that won't be the case: those things are looming and will probably start happening much sooner than I'd like. (I mean, if I had my druthers, they wouldn't even think about sex until they were like 25.)
But before all that happens -- before they're exposed to boobs that are as round and firm as cantaloupes and pictures of taut, airbrushed, dimple-less butts -- I'm exposing them to a different kind of female body.
Ours is not a modest household. I don't lounge around in the buff like my boys do (and I spend more time saying, "Put on some pants!" than anything else) -- but I've never refrained from changing clothes in front of them, or leaving the door open when I shower, or nursing babies without a cover. Because I want them to see what a real female body looks like. Because if I don't -- and their first images of a naked woman are the impossibly perfect physiques in those magazines or those movies -- what kind of expectations will they have? And what woman could ever live up to them?
Between you and me, I'm dismayed, big time, by my post-baby body. But for the sake of my boys -- and my future daughters-in-law -- I lie through my teeth. When they ask about my stretch marks, I tell them proudly how growing a baby is hard work, and that they're like badges I've earned (gaming references always hit home with dudes, no matter what you're explaining). As much as I'd like to cringe and shrink away when they touch my squishy belly, I let them squeeze my flab between their curious fingers. Do I hate it? Yes. I want to wail, "Leave my fat alone!" and run for the nearest oversized T-shirt (or, like, the nearest liposuction clinic).
But I don't. Because for right now, for these few formative years, my flab is their one and only perception of the female body. And I want them to know that it's beautiful, even in its imperfection.
I tell them how strong my body is. They see me work out. They see me make healthy food choices, but still indulge my love of baked goods. And though -- like most women -- I might inwardly beat myself up over my jeans getting too tight, or groan in frustration at the numbers on the scale, I'm never anything but proud of my body in front of my boys. Even when I feel the complete opposite inside. Instilling a positive body image is not an issue reserved for people with daughters -- and for boys, it involves not only making them confident about their own bodies, but also letting them know that real is beautiful when it comes to the opposite sex.
I don't want to do them, or any women they might happen to see naked in the future, the disservice of telling them that saggy boobs are bad or that a little bit of flab is something to be ashamed of. I want them to know that this is the norm, not the nipped-tucked-and-digitally-enhanced images they're going to be bombarded with. Sure, they'll gawk at those bouncy boobies and flat stomachs and perky butts... but I have hope that, deep down inside, they'll know that isn't the standard to which they should hold women's bodies. Like, ever.
There will come a time when I cover up when they're around. I'm sure at some point I'll hear, "Ugh, Mom, put some clothes on!" -- or that they'll learn to knock before barging into the bathroom (which sounds heavenly, I'm not gonna lie). But until then, I'll let them run their fingers along my stretch marks, and grin and bear it when they squeal with delighted laughter at the way my butt jiggles when I walk across the room to grab a towel. Because while they're young, I want to plant the seed -- so that when they're older, and their wives say, "I wish my thighs were smaller," my sons can say, "They're perfect just the way they are."
Writer, wife, and mom to four energetic little boys. Lover of zombies, baking, and science. Blogger at FightingFrumpy.com .
PERSONAL BEST - Preserving Meaningful Moments
View all All Photos Tagged accidental nudity
SmugMug + Flickr .
Connecting people through photography.
About
Jobs
Blog
Developers
Guidelines
Report abuse
Privacy
Terms
Help forum
English
SmugMug + Flickr .
Connecting people through photography.
12/7/2008 - FOX accidentally shows a Vikings player's manhood when they quickly cut to a post-game locker room speech.
Thanks everyone for the 100 plus wonderful and naughty comments on the Challenge video. As promised, here is the sequel where I "accidentally" misplace my skirt and panties! Flickr does not allow nudity videos, but you may watch video on my Chaturbate profile page! Kisses! Pixie's Chaturbate Profile Page
I trust Flickr customer care I have had issues in the past they were amicably successfully resolved ..
I do apologize about how long it has taken to resolve this type of issue. I'll certainly pass some feedback over to our team so we can look into improving our support for all members in the future.
If there's anything else I can help with in the meantime though, please let me know!
This thread has 31 messages from me to Flickr support ..the issue was my Flickr albums less than 500 images were not downloading I did all the checks but would not get the download notification in my Gmail,
Mind you all of the pandemic I must have downloaded thousands of my large albums too via the organizer creating sub albums I joined Flickr as a Pro in 2007 all these years
I follow Flickr terms guidelines my character as a digital photographer is an open book I moderate my images so as not to hurt religious sense and sensibilities .My photography is Made in India I shoot feasts festivals traditions as a photo journalist for educational; awareness//
I hardly comment on peoples images if they are not om ny contact list due to my recent deteriorating health gall bladder surgery by pass surgery diabetes I hardly leave my city I only shoot what I can I dont add followers as I type with one finger of a permanently damaged right hand though I play tennis
You friends followers have seen my photostream my varios albums the Naga Sadhus some are age restricted due to their traditional frontal nudity I dont shoot porn nor violence however my Shia albums showcase some bloodletting by the Shia community I am a Shia too I dont promote my religion or proselytize I seek your forgiveness if I have accidentally or unintentionally hurt you or blocked you I block any stream that adds me and has sexual explicit photos or genitalia .
I shoot transgender last 25 years or more I disabled this album faced identity fraud those days my hijra pictures were used in Yahoo Communities ,,,for soliciting .
I have vey few friends on Flickr but still I am thankful to those who follow me I am not into fine art photography ..of late I shoot more videos than stills most of my Flickr albums are as side shows on YouTube most are age restricted .
My mail to Flickr support is blocked I dont know why.
Now I have decided once my pro subscription ends I will delete my Flickr account nothing personal..Flickr is not what it was a community of love peace and humanity also the pandemic has destroyed my film business so I am not sure if I can continue my Flickr Pro,
It looks like you are replying to an unmonitored inbox. Our Support team can always be reached through our Help Center: flickrhelp.com.
The first time I encountered this fantastic character was a few months ago, at the Easter Day Parade on 5th Avenue. That day, she had some sparkling stars covering her nipples. And the photo I took of her that day may have been acceptable to show/share according to the "moral" standards in American media/culture.
Last week, on the most scorching day of the heatwave in NY, I saw her again. This time her breasts were fully displayed. She felt free and she made a statement with her own body. I snapped a photo of her walking by, she saw me and asked if I wanted a better picture of her. So she posed for me. And she looked interesting, natural, beautiful... Only this time the original image could not be shared or seen... Because society has grown a culture of shame on nudity, on skin exposure, on owning your own body.
From Spain, my mom always gets angry at the average American puritanical vision that caused what was called "The Nipplegate" in the infamous wardrobe malfunction that led Janet Jackson's nipple be shown accidentally on stage at the hands of Justin Timberlake on their performance together. It is indeed terrible hypocrisy to denounce something like that as obscene, while I can turn CNN on any night while having dinner and see violence worthy of a forbidden "snuff movie" on my TV. And yet, no one screams against any of that.
A woman's breast, a man's buttocks, some pubic hair showing... No matter in what context will be fought by those who claim it can traumatize or pervert children's minds. And seeing someone being shot in the head or blown up by a bomb in the Middle East won't do that, right? Sometimes I feel like screaming "Wake Up!". Children of the 21st century are way more ahead than you'd think. And if they want to see or learn about sex, there's nothing you can do to stop that. Then again, that is the whole key of the issue... How nudity, in the mind of short-minded people, can ONLY mean sex, or lust or sin... Not an art representation, not a personal freedom, just something dirty... I say... Could it be that what's really dirty is the repressed desire to do thar very same action they scream against?
Meanwhile, this woman walked the streets like that, without the forbidden signs you see now, that I include to be able to make my point without having my account shut down. If you (or anyone) would have walked around Broadway last Wednesday, you would have had to see her... No place to hide, no forbidden signs, no censorship in real life...
DO NOT use or reproduce without my explicit permission. THANKS!
PS: I admit a polite debate about the issue at hand. However, any hateful or insulting comment or disrespectful to the girl in the picture, myself or any other commenter will be deleted and may cause the offender to be blocked/reported
PS 2: If you want to be faithful to this brave woman's statement and see her in all her glory like she intended, feel free to check the uncensored original photo HERE .... but you need to have your account set to be able to see restricted images.
This appears to be a vintage press photo of an older photo. This young lady comes with quite the story, as you'll read below.
That is what I imagine to be a nude body suit used for artist-modeling which allowed them to be clothed, but naked in a time when public nudity was a major crime?
Dorothea Irene Kelznack/Kelynack was born on January 27, 1895, in New York City, New York to RICHARD & Mary Kelynack. She married Ernest J. Turley on December 21, 1917, in Boston, Massachusetts. She died in 1973 in New York at the age of 78.
On March 15, 1916, New York’s Evening World newspaper declared 21-year-old Dorothea Irene Kelynack “an exact flesh-and-blood replica of the marble Venus of the Louvre.” This was newspaper hyperbole, of course; to begin with, the Venus de Milo is six feet eight inches tall. Nevertheless, for a short period of time just before America entered the First World War, newspapers declared one or another young woman “a modern Venus” based on her measurements’ adherence to a scaled-down version of the statue. There was a Swarthmore Venus and one from Wellesley (the women’s colleges had such data at the ready as incoming freshmen were routinely measured nude in a relentless hunt for scoliosis; men’s colleges did the same, but no competition to discover a “modern David” followed). Now, Venus had emerged from New York City.
According to the paper’s “Venus Chart,” Kelynack was a smidge under five feet four inches tall, weighed 125 pounds, and measured as follows: neck, 12.5 inches; chest, 34.2 (two inches larger when inflated); waist 25.9. Her ankle measured a dainty 8.2 inches. The female reporter cooed about the “springing, supple lines” and “arresting charm” of Dorothea’s “perfectly modeled, perfectly managed body.”
The new Venus conceded she wore a corset, albeit a “very loose” one. Otherwise, she was a bit of a rebel. “I drink a little wine with my dinner when I feel like it, and I eat candy,” she said, though she practiced “temperance” when it came to both (this may have been a jibe at prohibition bluenoses to whom temperance meant full abstinence where alcohol was concerned). She believed that a career kept a woman “mentally alert” and helped to “preserve her beauty longer than the mere idler.” Dorothea herself had trained at the London Academy of Music, and aspired to appear on the stage or in the movies.
She had been a tomboy, who loved to climb trees and ride horses. “I believe that the tomboy has a better chance of becoming a Venus than the affected, artificial, repressed child whose one duty in life is to be ‘be a little lady,’” she concluded, in the type of statement for which the word “foreshadowing” was invented.
One might have expected Dorothea to make a match equal to that of her non-Venusian sister, who married a wealthy linen dealer after a shipboard romance. Instead, Dorothea eloped with Ernest Turley, a Navy man, in early 1918. The papers later called him “a handsome, two-fisted, go-getting sort of fellow” who “put up a whirlwind wooing that made paunchy millionaires, in Dorothea’s eyes, seem just funny,” but he was without question a bit player in the drama that followed. A daughter, Mattie, was born in December, and a son the following year.
The family moved to California, then, in July 1933, to Arizona, hoping the climate would aid Dorothea’s asthmatic lungs. News photos showed a rustic shack in which Ma and Pa Kettle would have felt right at home. It was easy to imagine a skunk taking up residence under the house. Mattie said she was aiming at one on November 18, 1933, when she tripped and unloaded both barrels of her shotgun into her father’s back. He was wounded, but alive. Mattie was a month shy of her fifteenth birthday.
But when the sheriff asked why, if the gun discharged as she fell, the shot’s path through her father’s body angled up and not down, Mattie let loose with a bombshell. She shot Ernest Turley on purpose — because the Ouija board she and her mother consulted said that her father must die in order for Dorothea to marry a handsome cowboy. “Mother told me the Ouija board could not be denied,” Mattie later told a jury, “and that I would not even be arrested for doing it.” Despite her professed belief in the Ouija’s infallibility, Dorothea nevertheless sought a second opinion. She reached for a deck of cards and drew one. “The ace of spades,” Mattie testified, “meant death for Daddy.” She lost her nerve when she first took aim, then thought about “how much it would mean” to her mother and fired.
Mattie pleaded guilty to a charge of attempted murder. Law enforcement wisely looked to the other set of hands on the planchette during that fateful session with the Ouija board and jailed Dorothea as an accomplice.
Ernest Turley died six weeks after the shooting. Dorothea was charged with murder, and the newspapers went berserk. Mattie was now the “beautiful 15-year-old shotgun slayer of her father.” Still “pretty” at 38, Dorothea had been chosen the American Venus over 3,000 or 50,000 other beauty contest entrants (in 1916 she told a New Jersey paper that her resemblance to the statue had been “discovered by accident” when “a relative noticed in the papers something about a would-be Venus at one of the colleges, and asked her to have herself measured”). Pictures of mother and daughter ran side by side for comparison.
Details were lurid. The handsome cowboy was tracked down, a 22-year-old named Kent Pearce. Like Dorothea before him, he dreamed of a movie career. Mattie testified that her mother and Pearce frequently drove out of town for late-night petting parties, with 14-year-old Mattie and a friend of Pearce’s in the backseat. Once the foursome stayed out until morning. “I have a hell of a good time on the Mesa,” Dorothea told a neighbor.
Dorothea maintained that the shooting was accidental. Yes, she owned a Ouija board, but she never asked it “Shall we kill father?” as her daughter testified. Mattie was angry with her and her father because they “didn’t want her to use rouge or to run about at night with cowpunchers or to cross her legs the way she did or to wear such short dresses.” She tried to pin the blame on her mother, Dorothea said, “because some of the cowboys didn’t like me.”
Through it all, Mattie stuck to the Ouija story. She also expressed deep remorse. “They thought I wouldn’t take the rap,” she said. “But I killed Daddy and I want to pay for it. That’s the only way I can show the world and him how sorry I am.” When she was taken away to begin serving her sentence at the grim-sounding State School for Girls, Dorothea told her, in what Mattie called and cold and sarcastic tone: “I thank you for your cooperation. Be a good girl.”
Dorothea was sentenced to 15 to 25 years for masterminding her husband’s murder, but had served less than three when she was granted a new trial and the charges against her were dropped. She went straight to the convent where Mattie remained in custody following the closure of the reform school. A “happy and contented” Mattie at first refused to meet with her mother, then relented long enough to tell Dorothea she never wanted to see her again. She was paroled shortly thereafter, and disappeared into what one can only hope was a satisfying adult life.
Dorothea told reporters that the day would come when Mattie would “realize the terrible wrong” she had done her to her mother. In the meantime, she unsuccessfully sued the former superintendent of the State School for Girls for “poisoning” her daughter’s mind against her.
This is a scanned image from a batch of wire photos, publicity photos, vintage snapshots, cabinet cards, CDVs and real photo postcards purchased at auction. You are welcome to pin, re-post, embed and share this image, but please do not reproduce for your personal gain or profit without my permission.
I did some small, cosmetic clean-up retouches in photoshop.
Any comments or observations are much appreciated!
Growing up I watched wrestling with my family. I dreamed of being the eye candy in the ring. I would lay on the floor fantasizing it was me in the bra and panties match having their clothes ripped off them on live television.
The most exciting part of th
Foursome Young Sex
Fetish Marco
Foot Fetish Vk