Posts tagged ‘sex’
Three Ways To Spend Valentines Day Alone
1. Go fuck yourself. Literally. Today, while you are out purchase 2 bottles of red wine and a Mama June sized box of chocolates. When you go home tonight, sit in front of your mirror, drink the red wine (so you start crying immediately), eat the chocolates, right the name of your crush on your index finger, and shove it in your b-hole repeatedly while self-flagellating. That way, tomorrow when people asked what you did, you can say you had a nice dinner, drank your tits off, and got finger-banged so hard you burped up a press-on nail.
2.Watch a marathon of the Millionaire Matchmaker. If Patti Stanger’s coked out, anorexic, sunburnt puffer face doesn’t make you glad to be single, nothing will.
3. Be a whore. Go out by yourself to the sleaziest bar you can find. If you are gay, that means the Cock in the East Village. If you are straight, that means any bar that doesn’t have a dress code. Sit alone in a slutty outfit and get so shitfaced that it doesn’t matter who hits on you. Go home with the first person who talks to you, even if its the janitor. If you do this, you can guarantee you won’t be alone next Valentines day.
You will have Herpes to keep you company.
You’re welcome.
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Ruining Disney Movies: Hakuna My Tata’s
This never really occurred to me before because frankly, I am not a pervert. That’s a complete lie. I am a pervert, but even so it never really gelled that Nala is quite literally giving Simba the double penetrate me in an alleyway during daylight in Prague for 30 shillings so I can buy food for my family fuck me eyes. Her body position is all about procreation, but her eyes are all about the anal. I wouldn’t be surprised if the artists for this scene studied the expressions of 1,000 middle-aged sluts (you don’t get to be good at the fuck-me eyes until you’ve had a bit of practice with pool boys).
Its funny, the more I re-watch the cartoons of my youth, the more I realize that I had no business watching them as an impressionable young kid. And look at me now…
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How To Have Sex With An Ex Convict
I’ll go ahead and say what everyone else is thinking: “Ex con’s are hot, and if it weren’t for the whole being murdered in your bed or robbed so blind you need a seeing-eye dog to take a shit thing, a lot more people would date them. I don’t suggest that you date them, because I don’t want to be blamed for any lewd and lascivious crimes, however fuckles are a completely different story.
Here are the why’s and hows of fucking an ex-convict:
Why: Bad boys are hot. They are so emotionally damaged that all they know how to do is emotionally damage other people. That’s hot.
How: Don’t get emotionally involved. Don’t give him your cell phone number. Don’t give him your real last name. Fuck him in public, if at all possible. Then escape, like he probably did.
Why: They know their way around a pair of handcuffs. This makes for some kinky sexuals.
How: Make sure you aren’t the one being cuffed to a bed or you may end up short one 52-inch flat screen TV.
Why: They are used to sleeping on tiny cots, with metal bars digging into their backs. This will make your ratty little studio in the east village look like a palace, and your IKEA bunk bed will feel like an angels vagina.
How: Take them on a roundabout journey when heading back to your place, and get them drunk first so they don’t remember your apt #. If at all possible, do it at a friends apt to save yourself from getting murdered later when you don’t return his calls.
Why: They probably picked up some bad-ass sex tricks while in prison. Everyone knows the best role playing game is called: Daddy shanks his bitch.
How: Don’t be afraid to get creative. Throw a mop-head over your afro and dye your lips red with food coloring. Pretend you are in the washroom doing laundry during a blackout.
If you need advice on finding an ex-con to date, you can meet an inmate here.
Even if you just want to visit that site to make fun of it or masturbate, its a worthwhile time!
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Gloganvlog Etiquette: How To Properly RECEIVE A Blowjob
Contrary to popular belief (mostly by women with gag reflexes) blowjobs aren’t exactly rocket science. Teehee. There are plenty of resources out there for how to give a blowjob, and honestly most of the time it comes down to simple common sense. Don’t bite, don’t actually suck or blow, and don’t vomit until the end.
Nobody ever talks about the blowee, though. A little known secret is that blowjobs don’t always work, and it isn’t always the fault of the blower. Also, not everyone can come from blowjobs. As someone who enjoys the fuck out of them when they are really good, but rarely finds anyone really good at it, I can sympathize. So here are some tips to receiving a blowjob:
Be in the right frame of mind: If your head isn’t in the right place, getting head is completely pointless. If you are thinking about taxes, the size of your dick, or your mom’s cancer scare, you won’t be able to enjoy the blowie. Clear your mind, and think about whatever makes you horny. If you have difficulty, or the person blowing you is toads fugs, think about whatever you fantasize about when you are jerking off. A blowjob is basically like a wet jerk off sesh.
Preemptive withholding: If you know you are going to get a b-jobber, refrain from jerking off a day or so before. Not only will this make you super horny and unable to think of anything else, but you get a really impressive cum shot out of it. Eat some celery the day before-hand to boost your load, and then watch-a-bitch-choke.
But what if you find yourself in the middle of a beej, and you haven’t had time to with-hold?
Let your hand be your guide: When someone is giving a blowjob (I may have done it once or twice) all they want is for it to work. As long as you ejaculate, the blower will be happy. If you do it right, they will also be full, and unable to look at mayonnaise the same way ever again. So if things aren’t really working downtown, use your hand to jerk off a little, and use your other hand to hold their head down there. You work the shaft while they work the head. It’s called team work, people. And if the blower is really good, they might pick up on your rhythm and you a handjob-blowie combo. Called a “handy-b”.
If all else fails, Read more…
As you can see, there is a fine line between the faces Olympic Divers make, and the faces guys make when they are taking it up the pooper. Luckily, I have access to a DaVinci Decoder ring that I found in a cracker Jacks box, while I was searching for my dad’s meth-money stash many years ago. Thus, I have deciphered the photos above, from left to right.
1. Fucking. “I don’t care how many donkey dicks I have to take, I will never go back to being an accountant!”
2. Diving. “Oh god. This water is to be so velly velly cold and my penis is already so small!”
3. Fucking. “These back yard barn fucks with Uncle Jethro are my reason for livin.”
4. Fucking. “You would think Adrien Brody wouldn’t be sitting on a damn casting couch at this point, but here I still am. We got any more lube?”
5. Fucking. “I didn’t realize the auditions for Manchester United would be ever so hard. Literally.”
6. Fucking. “The big black ones always burn the most!”
7. Diving. “My balls just ball-checked my own asshole! How is that even possible?
8. Diving. ” Damn it, this chlorine chafes my fucking nipples.”
9. Fucking. “Not another sex sling! These Read more…
I’ve seen a bunch of Davey Wavey’s video’s in my years on this Earth, but have never posted one. Why? Because every time I watch one I get so mesmerized by his glistening he-tits and perfect nip-to-nip ratio that I forget what the fuck I am doing. My ears literally heal over, and my eyes? Instant bloodshot. But at least now they match my gown. Watching him talk is like staring into the sun. (Video at the bottom of the post)
But in all realness, (yes, realness) he has a point, and I have an addendum I would like to add: The myriad of ways that gay guys ask for sex, (especially in NYC) and why they suck:
Want to watch a movie? Lets pretend to watch a movie. 5 minutes in, I will start dry-humping your dick-hole from behind, even if you are grubbing on a bucket of fiery chipotle wings whilst we watch Shindler’s List. This one sucks because you never get to see how the fucking movie ends!
Want to cuddle? I am too shy to straight up ask for sex, but the only thing you are going to be cuddling is your lost virtue and broken dreams when I go downtown to pound-town on you and never call again. This one sucks because these guys pretend they like to cuddle? Who the fuck likes to cuddle?
Want to get a drink? I am not creative enough to think of a real date idea, plus I just want to sniff your ass and decide if you’re someone worth fucking twice. So lets get liquored up and go bar-to-bedroom, leaving me enough time to meet my friends and get shit-faced after. This one sucks because Read more…
15 Not So Important Facts About Sex
I’ve been thinking a lot about money and sex. They say prostitution is the oldest profession in the wold, but I don’t see how that’s possible. In the days of the caveman, money didn’t exist. I think its possibly that women walked around cooter-first and offered their goods to any man would would protect them and feed them. That isn’t technically prostitution though, it is just a bartering of goods and services. It still exists today, in fact. Its called marriage.
Imagine you are a semi-slutty sorority girl that wears pink-ice lip gloss out on a date with a really cute guy. He buys you dinner, and he’s cute and nice so you decide to put out. How is that any different from actual hookering? All you got is a meal out of it – I have a prostitute friend who once got $300 for a 10 minute hand job.
Imagine you are a poor girl from a small town that paints the bottom of her pumps with bright red nail polish, trying to make in in the big city. You meet a rich Wall Streeter who is nice enough, handsome enough, and out of town enough that you can forgive that he is eventually going to be two chomosomes away from Woody Allen. So you marry him. You spend the rest of your life and the rest of his money, all the while fucking the Read more…
If he is sharp and eagle-eyed enough to shoot an AK-47 at 30 paces, he can probably find your clitoris with relative ease.
He will eventually get called to duty. If you get tired of cocking around, chances are you won’t have to wait long before he is reassigned away to some war torn country like South Dakota, giving you the perfect opportunity to change your name and phone number before he realizes you gave him the clap.
He comes with a camo outfit. This has two benefits: a) You can “borrow” the jacket, take a sewing machine to it, and make yourself with a super-cute cropped camo shrug or jumper. 2) If you find yourself balls deep in his armed forces and your homicidal husband/boyfriend comes home, a military man in camo can blend into your bedroom decor like a fugging chameleon.
If he shaves his head he probably Read more…
We have all seen them, been around them, touched them, and rubbed them in our hair. Big Dicks are all around us, and chances are you are going to run into one at some point, possibly literally. You first instinct will be to put it in your mouth, but what if your mouth doesn’t open that wide? What if your gag reflex is so pathetic you vomit from using a toothpick? Here are some tips on how to S an over-sized D. You’re welcome.
Practice on a cucumber. Buy the largest one you can, cover it with some type of marmalade (this will make it more pleasurable) and repeatedly jam it as far into your throat as you can. If you vomit the first few times you are doing it right. If you swallow it, congratulations: Not only are cucumbers rich in many vitamins and nutrients, but you are more of a man than I am.
Stretch out your mouth by stuffing it with as many golf balls as possible. This exercise has other positive repercussions, as you will later find out when you date a foreign man and he demands you join the teabag party.
Think of something else, such as being murdered by a knife-wielding Mexican immigrant. If you are Read more…
