Product Review: I Rub My Duckie® Waterproof Vibrating Rubber Duck Adult Toy (Black)

18 Jul

Holy mother of fuck, how I have not been jacking off with a vibrator for my whole life? Nikol gave me this thing– as an “alternative sex educator,” she is constantly speaking at sex positive conferences and feminist porn seminars and other types of events where fat people talk about using dental dams, and she got this duck fuck product as swag.  I’ve tried girls’ vibes on my dick before, but only when they were in the room, and I was always on coke and couldn’t get a boner and etc.  This is the one time I’ve been able to try one in the privacy of my own home.

You know when you nut so fast that your dick doesn’t even have time to fully get hard?  And in its rush to become an erection it turns into this misshapen chub where the barrel is fairly thick except for some reason there’s a thin figure 8 waist in the middle, like your dick was wearing a Victorian corset, and the blood doesn’t quite reach your helmet so in general your dick looks like a floppy retarded pinhead, but the stimulation is so great that this retarded mutant half flaccid cock is spurting jizz all over the place with unprecedented speed and quantity, so that every drop is like that heavy, oozy first drop that you shoot so hard it hits the wall and makes a sound?  And you know how when this happens as you are holding this unwieldy flagging sausage on top of a vibrating plastic waterfowl that is not ergonomically designed to hold your penis in place and is in fact roughly jostling it around and it’s still pretty floppy so this firehose like bonanza of jizz sprays willy-nilly in hot thick spurts at crazy angles all over your room and possibly on your cat who is crouched mesmerized by the sound of the vibrating motor and a big hot oily drop manages to soak into every single dress shirt you had neatly pressed and hanging in your open closet, and what a god damn mess, but nutting that fast feels so weirdly great that you just don’t care?  No?  Then this product is for you.
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Cyberpussying

17 Jul

UPDATE: The girl’s offending post can still be viewed here.

Roosh tweeted about this girl who wrote a blog about how guys buy her shit, and presumably are content to go unfucked in spite of this because she’s such a delight.  She’s taken the post down due to an apparent zerg rush of commenters telling her she was a whore and a 3 out of 10 and etc. and substituted a post about how she’s the victim of cyberbullying.

I tried to leave her this reasonably constructive comment, but she blocked it. She is only allowing her fellow bottle blondes to leave condolence messages bolstering her self-pity I guess. So I’m posting it here.

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For your own well-being, I think it’s best that you toughen up a bit.  People on the internet are gonna be mean, especially if you do something like detail all the free stuff you get from dudes.  The correct response is to laugh it off.  To be happy for the page views.  Continue reading →

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Sticking It in the Shitpipe

16 Jul

I’ve only had anal sex once.  With an old girlfriend who really liked it and got off on it.  This means, it was no fun.  You expect a maddeningly tight hole that grips your dick vice-like as the girl’s body involuntarily tries to shove it out in terror.  A pinhole that draws back horrified from your encroaching meat, that when finally forced to yield is like conquering a ten year old schoolgirl’s hairless virgin cooch in the field hockey locker room.  But no, it’s just another hole.  Less than another hole– there’s about a half inch of tightness around the actual butthole, but the actual inside of the colon is like a blimp hangar; only one side of your dick is ever touching weird ridgy tissue at any given time.  The further you penetrate, the more your helmet is just gasping in open air.

Plus, it’s disgusting, obviously, to think of sticking your dick in shit.  The dick you meticulously lather thrice each morning with Lever 2000™ and delicately scrub down, so it’s as clean as a newborn baby possum when it drops into a fresh pair of boxer briefs.  Sticking your dick in a shitty ass is like stepping in dog crap in dress shoes– you may, gagging, scrub the offending waste off, but the shoes will forever have just a touch of haram about them.  If you pull your dick out of an ass and see shit, you will become Lady Macbeth.  It will be forever tainted.  If a girl sucks you off and then tries to kiss you, you will imagine her mouth as a cat’s asshole, pink and puckering and rimmed with tiny black crumbs, with perhaps a lone worm squirming out.

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ASMR

15 Jul

Has anyone heard of ASMR?  It’s an internet phenomenon now. Basically the idea is, you know, when you were a kid and someone would lightly tickle your back you’d get that weird quasi-orgasmic tickly feeling that would kind of put you in a trance.  Now people make youtube videos that are designed to have the same effect.  I just tried one and it totally worked.

Despite it being a (REDACTED) looking 13 year old girl whispering to you and being called “role-play,” I promise that this is nothing sexual.  Her weird whistly sibilants just make you feel tingles all over your head and spine.  It is also not Rick Astley, nor a slideshow of prolapsed body cavities.  Go try it and report back your results.

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A Message from God

15 Jul

What do you do with huge coincidences.  What do you feel, when shit happens that is so unlikely that it feels like magic.  Me, I get scared.  Or, I have a moment of: how the fuck do I interpret this.  But there’s an urgency to it, too. I better do something.  This is a message from God.  What does it mean.  How do I put it to use.  Continue reading →

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Protected: OKCupid: You Want Me to Message You Back?

14 Jul

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Thoughts on Nikol

13 Jul

Nikol. Why do you have three kids and two ex husbands. Why do you have these things. I kind of love you.  You are really smart and funny and an excellent writer.  And you’re good looking!  You clean up really well.  You are the only person I’ve met in the last two years whom I could conceivably fall in love with.  Why do you have to have this weird fucking baggage—I don’t care that you were born into foster homes, getting beaten and molested, having—seriously—getting locked into a room full of bees.  Is that real, or did you fall asleep watching CANDYMAN and just absorb the movie as your own memories?  But yeah, why.  Why can’t you be 24 and with no kid, although– I do like her kids. I do like Trast, like- we could play fucking Dungeons and Dragons together. Continue reading →

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Diary 12/30/10: Cat UTI

12 Jul

My poor cat has a urinary tract blockage. My poor Bud. He just squatted in the litterbox for like ten minutes, straining out a niggardly trickle of pee. And he peed on the bathmat recently, unheard of for him, and in fact appeared to have peed just outside the box once before, since the underside of it was all covered in ammonia-smelling cat piss. Which, one of the symptoms of cat urinary tract blockage is they like to piss on a “cool, smooth surface.” This is bad shit. Your cat could die, although, I just picked him up and his abdomen doesn’t appear to be in any pain. So, you know, this isn’t life-threateningly serious. I made an appointment to take him to the vet tomorrow. Who knows. The internet says that shit just goes away sometimes. Continue reading →

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Every Single Rape Joke Ever Made Is Fucking Hilarious

11 Jul

Daniel Tosh is suffering from controversy because he told an audience member she should get gang raped.  Or rather, he made a joke about rape, she primly heckled that “rape jokes are never funny,” and then he started screaming that wouldn’t it be funny if she were gang raped.  Or something.  So now he’s in some shit.

Or not.  I don’t know.  Is he in any danger of losing his show? Comedy Central doesn’t give a fuck, right?  Except tons of Jezebel commenters watch The Daily Show and Colbert Report and so there could be letter writing campaigns, boycotts of Stoli Marshmallow and the Subaru Forrester and whateverthefuck else advertises on those shows.  He has to tweet an apology, but, maybe he also has to do the Tracy Morgan apology press conference where he tearfully says that his own mother was raped and he’s going to tour the country counseling rape victims and blah blah blah.  And suddenly Daniel Tosh won’t be funny anymore.  Just like Tracy Morgan.  Tracy Morgan was funny for going on morning shows in Dubuque still drunk from the night before and taking his shirt off and telling the bemused weather girl that he was going to impregnate all the women in town…. you never knew what was coming, but you knew it was going to be something crazy.  Now you see Tracy Morgan, maybe it’ll be something crazy but it won’t be something crazy about gays, and probably not something crazy about women or rape victims or child molestation.  He has to come up with crazy material about airline food now.  You see him, you know he’s gonna be constrained.  So you lose the tense part of what the fuck is he gonna do next, which is kind of what made you laugh.  What the fuck is he gonna do next– nothing that might irk people who might buy detergents and personal toiletries advertised on NBC Universal entertainment products.  Nothing that could rustle the feathers of anyone who could write a sternly worded letter to someone at NBC, its parent corporation NBC Universal, its parent corporation Comcast International, or any of the above’s myriad sponsors, local affiliates, public relations agencies and hangers-on, and etc. etc. etc. Continue reading →

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Having a Job

10 Jul

is at once hating something and being in mortal fucking fear of losing it.  Like being married to someone who beats you up.

Like owning a subsistence farm that only grows horrible tasting fruits and stinking corpse lilies.  Like living solely off mushrooms that grow in dog shit, that taste like dog shit, but it’s the only food you have.  If you anger these fickle dog shit tasting mushrooms they will go away and you will starve and die.  You will be like nine grand in credit card debt, your car will be broken, you will have no ability to support yourself.

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