Via IO9: Functioning Anal Sphincter Grown In Petri Dish
This is the future, people. Science has finally solved the age old problem of the blown out O-ring… in mice.
Why mice? Because no one rump wrangles or power shats harder than the murine, that’s why. But don’t worry, the hierarchy of creatures in need of anus replacement goes 1. Mice, 2. Elton John, so humans should be next in line.
Especially since they are using a combination of human muscle cells and mouse nerve cells to achieve this scientific wonderment. Sound ungodly to you? That’s because you don’t have an asshole like a deflated inner tube. You know what it’s like when your socks lose elasticity and continually slouch down around your ankles? Picture that. Only in your butt.
This is why scientists science first and tell later. Thankfully the result wasn’t some sort of sentient, disembodied half human/half mouse/half anus that got loose (get it?) and wreaked havoc on a major metropolitan area. That would have been terrible. It would make for a good movie, though. I’m writing “Frankenanus” as we speak, so no one steal my idea.
Chalk another one up for science. How many anuses has Jesus replaced? None, I should think. Otherwise it would have been in the Bible, right there next to turning water into wine. Viva la science!
Posted in Opinions Are Like Assholes, Religion, Science
Tagged Ass Monster, Ass Surgery, Assholes, Blown Out O Ring, Elton John, Frankenanus, Incontinence, Mouse Anus, Petri Dish Sphincter, Science vs. Religion, Sphincter Replacement
First things first: head over to Fleshbot (site NSFW) and watch the scene in its entirety (even if you have to pry your eyes open with clamps, like Alex in A Clockwork Orange). The good news is the scene contains numerous tasty shots of spicy Spaniard Leonor Watling’s birdy num nums. The bad news is, you are watching a sex scene with Frodo that doesn’t feature Samwise The Brave.
Oh yeah, did I mention it involves spaghetti?
Whence came this abomination, you ask? A little known/seen/liked film called The Oxford Murders, from the otherwise reliable mind-cooch of director Alex de la Iglesia. He of the church previously gave us such enjoyable motion pictures as Day of the Beast, 800 Bullets, and Perdita Durango; but with this monstrosity has chosen to spit libido sapping poison into the collective mind’s eye of his faithful fans. It would have been better for everyone involved if he had put John Hurt in the scene instead.
But awkward sex isn’t Oxford‘s only flaw (even if it is the only one that rapes you in the ocular cavity.) The film is also a bland, poorly scripted Davinci Code clone. In fact, I don’t know what’s worse- watching Frodo slurp second breakfast off that poor girl’s chest meat or seeing Iglesia demean himself with this second rate material.
And why cast Frodo in the first place? Capitalizing on some of that Lord of the Rings heat? Five years after the fact? Because his acting here is as stilted as his lovemaking.
When asked about filming the stomach churning love scenes, Frodo had this to say:
They were good – made all the more easy by working with Leonor.
Of course they were good! For YOU! Look at this FACE. It is the visage of a demented spaghetti fucker! You don’t see the media asking poor Leonor if she enjoyed having to suckle a halfling at her never ending pasta bowl. That’s because she’s locked away in an institution somewhere, a shell of her former self. She will never be able to experience the simple pleasures of normal sex or fine Italian cuisine ever again.
Posted in Film, Food, Sexuality
Tagged Alex de la Iglesia, Davinci Code, Elijah Wood, Frodo Sex, Hobbit Sex, Italian Food, John Hurt, Leonor Watling, Lord of the Rings, Oxford Murders, Sex Scenes, Spaghetti Sex
You mess with the girl, YOU GET THE HITLER!
Who knew the character of Girl Hitler from The Venture Bros was based on historical fact? This is almost as insane as the time the military spent over 7 million dollars developing a bomb that would turn enemy soldiers gay. (HERE)
via The Daily Mail:
With no end to the Second World War in sight, British spies came up with a plan to lace Adolf Hitler’s food with female sex hormones to curb his aggressive impulses.
Agents planned to smuggle doses of oestrogen into his food to make him less aggressive and more like his docile younger sister Paula.
Uh, I believe it’s spelled estrogen? Silly Brits.
I am as happy as a little girl
While pretty ingenious, this would have been a bad idea for a number of reasons:
Everybody loves tits. Put a pair of torso nads on the most evil man who ever lived and you run the risk of making him more popular than he already is. The hormones might have mellowed him out, but the development of secondary female sex characteristics would have inspired even more devotion in his followers. The sexier a world leader is, the more powerful they are. Just ask Margaret Thatcher.
Secondly- I can’t really think of a second reason. Maybe this would have worked. Maybe Auntie Adolf would have moved to New York City and gotten involved in the club scene, becoming a wealthy socialite and world renown fashion icon. You never know…
Posted in Cartoons, History, Sexuality, Television
Tagged Amanda Lepore, Girl Hitler, Her Hitler, Hitler, Hitler's Breasts, Lady Hitler, Nazis, Sexy Hitler, Transgender, Venture Bros, World War II
Fuck Trek VI: The Undiscovered Cuntry
Congratulations, you’ve successfully sucked your own dick, but you have a voracious sexual appetite and are hungry for more. You’re low on cash and don’t have access to a consenting female. What’s the only uncharted masturbatory territory left for a sexual Lewis and Clark like yourself to explore? Grab some lube and your Sacagaweas, because it’s time to embark upon a literal execution of the metaphorical self fuck.
Last time I checked, cloning was still illegal, so you’ll have to cross fucking your doppleganger off your list. You could do like THIS GUY, and make a Plaster Caster mold of your cock so an ex-girlfriend can fuck you with it (let’s see you write a song about that, KISS!), but that’s not really fucking yourself. The dick needs to be flesh and blood, and it needs to be attached to YOU.
I like to watch
No, the only conceivable way of literally fucking yourself is to enlist the help of your friendly neighborhood Wishmaster. The Wishmaster is a benevolent djinn who rides around on a sleigh and grants wishes to all the good little boys and girls. Or something like that. He might also want to unleash his unholy minions so hell can reign on earth. I’m not good with details.
But if poking your own pooper-shooter is that important to you, and you don’t care about the fate of the rest of humanity, this is definitely the way to go. Don’t believe in Wishmasters? Check out the documentary footage below. (Embedding disabled! Fucking youtube can go fuck itself!)
The clip starts out with an hilarious quote-
Check it out, I’m getting it on with my sister, next thing I know, the bitch drops a fucking dime on me- attempted rape.
-but skip to the 2:30 mark to see Wishy make dreams come true.
Or, if you really hate your eyes, you could just click this horrifying, extremely NSFW link HERE, which totally takes the romanticism out of the idea of fucking yourself.
Posted in Masturbation, Sexuality
Tagged Auto Fellatio, Clone Sex, Djinn, Evil Never Dies, Fuck Yourself, Go Fuck Yourself, Kiss, Lewis and Clark, Plaster Caster, Sacagawea, Self Fuck, Self Suck, Wishmaster, Wishmaster 2, Wishmaster II
For those of you feigning outrage over the marriage of Courtney Stodden to that aging lesbian who was on Lost for like five seconds:
Whoever the fuck she is, wherever the fuck she came from- she is not 16. Look at her face.
Maybe she is a cougar from the future, whose cryogenically frozen head was thawed and grafted onto the body of a much younger woman. Or maybe she was mauled by a dog and needed face replacement surgery, and the only available donor was a 40 year old transvestite prostitute. Maybe this is a brilliant piece of post-modernist performance art commenting on the sexualization of children in the media. Or maybe she’s just some old-ass gold digger who works out a lot, pulling a fast one on a creepy horndog.
Or maybe, this whole thing is a fucking publicity stunt perpetrated by a second rate TV actor and a wannabe celebucunt.
You can’t tell me this video is serious. Are people that deluded about their creative capabilities? It literally sounds like the inside of an asshole. For those lucky enough to have missed it, but masochistic enough to press play, I present Courtney Stodden performing her debut single, Don’t Put Your Old Man Jizz On Me (Because The Ending of Lost Sucked).
Alright, maybe it is serious. This bitch is dumb as a bag of retarded hammers. Are you ready to cringe? Get ready to cringe. Here she is talking to some cable access priest with a speech impediment whose only sexual experience involved a notary embosser and the underside of an altar boy’s bean bag. Makes me want to stab humanity in the uterus.
Posted in Celebrity Shit Heads, Music, Sexuality, Television, Underage Pussy
Tagged Cougar, Courtney Stodden, Don't Put It On Me, Dough Hutchison, Fame Whores, Gold Digger, Lost, Pedophilia, Ugly Transvestites
Two whores compete for a prospective mate
What is the female equivalent of a dick measuring contest? You know, that special brand of alpha male chest thumping that prompts a snide, “Why don’t you just whip it out and measure it?” from the ladies. (To be fair, we know there is a part of you that likes it when men get aggro. It is ingrained in your biology.)
Should the term be breast related? Big titty bitches do tend to look down on women with smaller chests. But the jokes on them, because no matter how good they look reigned in with a titanium-laced push up bra, them shits become an unruly mess when unleashed. I know how to shop for fruit. Give me some nice, firm pears- you can keep your over-ripe melons.
Sure, they look good now, but what happens when you get her top off?
How about “clit measuring contest?” The clit is the female analog of the penis, after all. If a woman wants to deride another woman’s femininity, she could be all, “Yeah, I’m talkin’ to you, pencil clit!” That would be hysterical! Although, in this case, the likening of a sexual organ to a writing utensil might be a compliment as opposed to an insult. Ditto for the term “tuna can clit.”
Of course, that’s assuming size matters in this contest. Claiming you have the world’s largest clit might be counterproductive to asserting one’s femininity. I don’t think women are going to boast about having what is essentially a tiny penis. It didn’t help Chyna’s career (Not Safe For- BLAAAAAAARG! There goes my lunch. What is she, a hyena? It’s like staring Droopy Dog in the face.)
That ain't no penis. Chyna got nothin' on me!
I suppose if women don’t want it, the term could be useful in the prevention of cat fights. Any time two angry females are about to throw down, you could interject, “What is this, a clit measuring contest?” At this point, one of two things will happen. A- it will diffuse the situation, leaving everyone involved feeling pretty awkward, or B- it will result in some hardcore competitive nub rubbin’! It’s hard to say which.
You know what? This post makes me mad.
Posted in Sexuality, Sociology, Vagina, Women's Studies
Tagged Battle of the Sexes, Breasts, Chyna, Clit Measuring, Dick Measuring, Droopy Dog, Huge Clit, Pencil Clit, Pencil Dick, Steroids, Tuna Can, Tuna Can Clit
Why do we love the Nazis so much? And when did they become an object of erotic obsession in popular culture?
As far as I can tell, the Third Reich’s had our little soldiers sieg heiling ever since the Paris Peace Conference. From the art house to the grindhouse, those sadistic bastards are responsible for encouraging more instances of the five finger goose step than Linda Lovelace and Marilyn Chambers combined. In doing so, they’ve actually perpetrated a second, even larger Holocaust than the first- a sperm Holocaust. And for those who think this is a disgusting male only fetish, i assure you, the Nazis have made their share of meat curtains weep lugubrious stink tears.
The question still remains- why? I could give you some psychoanalytical mumbo-jumbo about facing our fears, but that doesn’t explain the arousal factor. A film like 1974′s The Night Porter attempts to rise above mere titillation and explain this morbid connection, but it’s been so long since I’ve seen it that all I can remember are the pert teats of Ms. Charlotte Rampling (and also that it was kind of boring for a sadomasochistic Nazi sex movie).
The complete opposite of boring, however, is the legion of Nazi themed exploitation films made in the 1970′s. Most of them were of Italian origin, even though you’d think the Itais would want to steer clear of associating themselves with anything Axis. Oddly enough, one of the most popular and profitable of the genre, Ilsa: She Wolf of the SS, was a Canadian production (Go Canada! I didn’t know you had it in you!) that was shot on the abandoned set of Hogan’s Heroes. It spawned a host of inferior imitators, which should only be of concern to the discriminating connoisseur of Naziploitation. For an exhaustive list, check out this site HERE, if only for the naked dancing Nazi pop-up and the Freudian mistyping of “cute-rate Goebbels.” Sounds like somebody has a crush!
If we had to, I suppose we could trace the whole thing all the way back to Uncle Adolf himself. It is a little know fact that The Fuhrer was a major league cooze hound in his day. He loved pussy so much, he didn’t even want to leave it to be born. (NSFW) He took on all comers, from the barely legal (Eva) to the very related (Geli)- just as long as they were white as a glass of milk. (Obviously, he didn’t subscribe to the idea that they’re all pink on the inside.) For those of you clamoring for actual proof, these recently surfaced photographs should suffice. They further corroborate the fact that The H Man liked him some strange.
Yah, das goot.
So you see, sexuality and Nazism go hand in hand. If Hitler were alive today, I’d like to think he’d be a more politically motivated version of Hugh Hefner. In fact, I think the girl pictured below would be the perfect match for this theoretical geriatric anti-Semite. She’s young, white, well-read and- I may be going out on a limb here- but she probably hates the Jews. She seems a tad overdressed, but we don’t want the FBI beating down our door. The two love birds could have a reality show, like The Girls Next Door, wherein the young lass attends to the needs of Grandpa Hitler, from the practical to the sexual. She could strain his peas, change his diaper and milk his prostate. Yummers! I know I’d watch it.
Posted in Comics, Film, History, Sexuality
Tagged Charlotte Rampling, Crygina, Exploitation, Fumetti, Hitler, Hugh Hefner, Ilsa, Naziploitation, Nazis, Rob Zombie, Sexploitation, The Night Porter, Underage Nazi Pussy, Werewolf Women of the SS, World War II