avatar and a human consuming butthole

just saw avatar the other day. i thought it was awesome, but i can be a little biased being that i am a huge nerd and i love shit like that. for those of you that have seen the film i have an important, if not scientifically imperative, question.

would you do the blue chick?

lets go through some of the pros and cons of boning down with a 15 foot tall aboriginal warrior princess badass.

pros:

1. she can protect you from jaguars and wild boars when lost in the rain forest

2. her boobs are 3 times the size of normal boobs

3. she's blue, which means she is exotic and probably has a vageena that's a really cool color

4. she can kill you at any moment which is kinda hot

5. she knows all kinds of crazy war cries, which would make it sound like you were doing 100 chicks at the same time

6. how many times in your life will you be able to bang a princess? even if she is basically the princess of a psychedelic national park, it's still pretty awesome

cons:

1. she can probably call jaguars and wild boars to kill you like the beastmaster

2. she never wears shoes, so the callouses on her feet probably feel like petrified corn nuts

3. she has those beads in her hair that people used to come back with when they went on a vacation to the Caribbean, which is just gross

4. she can kill you at any moment, which is still kinda hot

5. she could fit an entire human body inside of her butthole

i don't know about you, but i would totally tap that big blue human eating ass all night long.

quote of the day

"i just had a cataclysmic assplosion of epic proportions"

respect your porn consuming elders

"sexting" seems to be all the rage these days with ultra horny tweens. my interpretation of sexting is that it can be anything from a picture in the nudical, or simply an erotic text message. as a good friend of mine put it, who is about the same age as me: "if i would have had a magic box in my pocket at 13 that had naked pictures of girls, i would have literally rubbed my entire wiener into a callous." my thoughts exactly.

the kids got it good these days , with total access to any kind of seriously fucked up fetish shit that exists. when i was an early teen in the early 90's, it was a completely different ballgame. it was a full on mission, complete with enemy spies (any of your parents friends who might see you in the porn section of the magazine stand or video store) and hostile territories (the porn section at the video store, your friends' dads' collection under his bed, or a friends' older brothers' stash).

the procurement of porn took days, sometimes weeks. all of the stars had to be aligned for a standard playboy to end up in my lap (or hovering just above my lap while i was "perusing" the goods), let alone a quality hardcore mag (ie. hustler). can you imagine the amount of pent up sexual rage that would be unleashed on whatever small scrap of porn that i could grab!? (let me just say that it is entirely possible to masturbate furiously to the smallest portion of bare flesh on a page) the journey itself made the treasure at the end that much sweeter and stickier.

what does a kid with internet access have to even look forward to? i would hear whispers that a kid had a porn mag and we would spend weeks fact checking, referencing encyclopedia brown books for case study comparisons, and substantiating the claims by interviewing other boys who claimed to had seen the mythical tool of pubescent glory. what i am saying is that kids today have no grasp on the true value or power of porn. porn is the whimsical whimsy in the boner of every man (not exactly sure what that means, but it just feels right).

the internet and the flood of porn available today kills the magic and turns all these kids into porn stars in their own minds before the age of 13. when i had my "first," i thought i was a regular ron jeremy when i threw down the obscure and rarely used "missionary position." the fact was that i had not seen enough porn to know that this is the most lazy of the plethora of ways to get your wiener wet. the first porn video i ever saw was about a hooker that get busted and then like 100 cops run a train on her in exchange for not arresting her (shudder, cringe). that's some mild shit compared to what kids see today, and i was thoroughly traumatized by that video (for some reason i felt like it was appropriate to re-enact the video some years later with midget actors and a flock of seagulls, but it was simply an act of closure, so no big deal). the flock of seagulls may have been the members of the 80's band, or actual seagulls, but i can neither confirm nor deny the events of that particular evening.

we need to bring back the glory days of the full on indiana jones scenarios, utter mission impossibles, to bring back the beauty and power that rightfully belongs to gift that is the porn industry. this is a gift that is now taken for granted and not treated like the true gem of adolescent existence that it is.

rally in the name of porn my friends! squeeze your bottle of lubriderm, pull out that trusty sock from under your mattress, pull out a fuzzy, unmarked vhs tape, and salute the forgotten glory of a hard fought battle to procure the pinnacle of pubescent treasures.

my one, my only, sweet, gentle, slightly hardcore porn.

quote of the day

"i don't make love. i bone"

a quick thought on "muffin tops"

i have a problem with the negative stigma surrounding the phenomena we call the "muffin top." what else provides a man with the additional thrust needed to really drive home his wiener when engaged in some hard core ploughing? a muffin top, of course! they are the perfect little (or big) fleshy lard handles, seemingly created by the man upstairs himself for the pure pleasure of chubby chasers and slightly overweight lovers everywhere. don't hate, embrace the muffin.

quote of the day

"it looked like a murder that came out of a butthole"

oh christmas, you're so silly

so today we celebrate christmas, which is supposedly the birthdate of some mexican guy named jesus. i will admit that every mexican guy named jesus i have ever met has been a stand-up guy, as i hear this guy was too.

but let's really get down to what this is all about; today, we celebrate the legacy of telling unsuspecting children that it is perfectly OK for a large fat man to commit home invasion, as long as he leaves a gift behind, of course. and furthermore, all you children out there should instantly feel comfortable around overweight men in costume, preferably a red costume that looks more like a robe so it can be taken off with haste (because we all know how tedious it can be to take off normal clothing, especially if you in the process of giving gifts to young children).

not only do parents encourage their children to instantly trust an overweight seasonal employee of the glendale galleria, but they also encourage them to waste perfectly good cookies on a blatant diabetic.

i also question the whole notion of a "mrs.claus." i mean, i have heard about her, but she doesn't even get impersonators at our fine retail establishments around the holidays. so why doesn't he ever take his wife with him anywhere? the guy makes toys all year, and spends all of his time around little troll people whose hands are small enough to fit into the machinery when the assembly line breaks down. this guy has an unhealthy fascination with little people of all kinds. i'm just saying, this santa guy might not be the best person to have kids bouncing around on his lap.

so santa runs his sweat shop up in siberia, utterly neglects his faux wife, is a walking advertisement for the dangers of diabetes, and obviously drinks too much as evidenced by his ridiculously red nose and cheeks.

yay for alcoholic, wife neglecting, borderline pedophiles!

and to all a good night.

quote of the day

"its like a little bologna blanket wrapped around my wiener"

where did it come from? part 1

when did somebody decide that the word beaver was an acceptable slang term for vagina? i have gone through all of the possibilities, and the reasoning is just not there. lets talk it over and see if we can come to a conclusion together.

there is the idea that a beaver is brown and furry, as are some vaginas, but not ALL vaginas are that color, or furry for that matter. don't get me wrong; i am an avid user of the term, but i just can't see how you can relate something so awesome to an animal that is fat and chews on wood all day.

depending on the female, i can see how certain vaginas may do a bit of wood chewing, (with the right amount of training, of course) but this still doesn't substantiate a solidly embedded slang term in the american lexicon.

then there's the idea that it could be an onomatopoeia, meaning that a vagina actually sounds like the word beaver. well, i can say that after extensive field testing, this is certainly not true (field test results to be released at a later date, and will be available at the library of congress).

maybe those that coined the term were were beaver owners (i am making a wild assumption here that people actually owned beavers at some point, but you never know), making them beaver lovers in essence. the logical thing to do as a beaver lover is to pass the term on to other things you love, like vaginas or cupcakes. so these beaver lovers went on enjoying beavers, vaginas, and cupcakes equally. then they started selling the beaver cupcakes, and their beaver cupcake customers then also made the natural progression to referring to vaginas as beavers because they loved beaver cupcakes so much.

boom! beaver = vagina

and the rest is beaver lovin' history

disclaimer: the author of this post is an avid beaver lover and is in no way denouncing the fantastic glory of the beaver. and the cupcake

i love you "jersey shore"

thank you MTV for giving me this little piece of comedy gold known as the jersey shore. also, i would like to thank whoever it was that was wise enough to know that jersey is an absolute fucking gold mine for reality tv "stars" and egomaniacal trashers who are willing to actually act like themselves for an audience.

thank you to the tanning beds that provide snookie with that beautiful golden luster and thank you to the laws of physics that allow for her hair poof to defy all that isaac newton worked so hard to figure out. and thank you poughkeepsee, new york for grooming such a fine young pygmy.

thank you for the situation that led to "the situation" (namely, the circumstances that brought together the two amazing human beings that boned down to spawn such a classy and dignified jersey boy that references himself and his abs as separate entities of the same name).

thank you seaside heights for nurturing and encouraging the absolute fist pumping debauchery that takes place on your pristine shores.

thank you "j woww" for being so impressed with yourself, that you are forced to exclaim "wow" when introducing yourself to others and you are even forced to add an extra "w" because a simple double "w" "wow" just doesn't cut it.

thank you pink eye for making a huge comeback "down the shore." i was wondering what had happened you, since the last time i saw you was in the third grade. i am happy to know that you are still in circulation outside of third world countries.

thank you

quote of the day

"his fat little double chin was all smooth"

santa, lies and sweaty men

with the holidays approaching, i was reminded of the utter horror with which i discovered santa was total bullshit. i think i was 9 or 10 years old, and some of the wiser children at school dropped the bomb that santa wasn't real. i confronted my parents as soon as i got home, knowing that they would defy the naysayers at school and comfort me with sweet whispers of the absolute reality of santa's existence. unfortunately, they did offer me the reality of santa, but in "adult world." i was totally bummed, but i rebounded.

until roughly 2 weeks later.

that was when my dad told me about the lies behind the glory of the ultimate warrior, the junkyard dog, and rowdy roddy piper. first santa, now the wwf ?!?! at least my parents were giving me gifts while lying to me at christmas time. but allowing me to become totally entrenched and fascinated with men wearing tights and rolling around in a homoerotic fashion at the whim of a flimsy script? just uncool.

i am still kinda bitter about it.

beef jerky and cubicles

i am the youngest person by at least 10 years in the of sea of cubicles at my work. i feel myself losing any shred of coolness i may or may not have had every moment that i spend around the goobers i work with. the fact is that i need money, and most likely i was never cool anyways.

yesterday, the woman down the hall from me creeps on my special little 5 by 5 cube with her eyes bugging out of her head in some sort of post-meth induced trance with her well developed underbelly jiggling mightily as she invades the sad amount of personal space i have. i swear to god she never stops eating.

she walks into my cube to ask me some shit about something completely inane and mind-numbingly boring. i feel her hot beef jerky breath on the back of my fucking neck and small crumbs of some food packed with lard dropping down the collar of my shirt while her basketball of an underbelly slightly rubs against the back of my head (is that thing contagious?). vengeance for this horrendous abuse of my body and soul was worthless, as the food she was eating had done enough damage during the short trip from her mouth to her stomach.

whatever the opposite of a boner is, that's what it felt like.