Say What You Want about His Semen, but You've Got to Be Impressed by His Volume

Skittles - Newlyweds - Dir. Cousins [Not affiliated with Wrigley or Skittles. Contains explicit content not suitable for minors] from Cousins on Vimeo.


Candy porn means, yes, there's now such thing as a Skittles facial. I wish I were joking.

History Comes Alive (or Undead)

Before the Union was preserved, before the slaves were free, before Buffy was vampire-slaying, there was Abe — Abe Lincoln, Vampire Hunter. And I can hardly wait.

I know what you're thinking: “3D? Really?" One, yes, you purist, really. This is a story so real, it has to be told in 3D. Two, 3D? Really? That's your problem with this?

Happy Valentine's Day, Everyone!

I love you, too, lovely, little French woman.

Dude, if It Makes Your Face Do that, How Good Can It Be?

I've never really got the Tumblr thing. I know it allows you to post the things that you love, that it makes sharing easier. I just never saw anyone create a Tumblr site that justified the new medium — until now. Now that I've seen Seventies Blowjob Faces, I get it. I totally get it.

Ladies, Gentlemen, prepare to lose a few minutes of your lives, because you're going to want to see more than just this:

You're going to want to see mustaches like you've never seen them, or if you were alive in the 70s, like I was, like you've tried to forget. (How, pray tell, did the mustache survive after that decade?)

And you're going to want to see nearly perfect blowjob faces, like the one posted below.

(I say it's nearly perfect because we don't know if he's watching the Stooges or not.)

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go trim my mustache and practice my Oh-face.

Girls Gone Wilding

If your response to the mugshots of those delightful flowers of femininity is “Pollinate. Oh, yeah, Pol-Lin-Nate!” you might want to hold fast to your stamen, at least, until you've had time to read more about how they ended up in those mug shots.

On Oct. 6, sheriff's investigator Brandie Hart went to Somerset High School and met with an 18-year-old man named “Joseph” [Full Name Withheld because he's a special needs young man and needs a little more privacy protection than most] in regard to an assault that occurred on Oct. 1. Joseph told Hart he was sitting at home playing video games when he received a call from Johnson inviting him to come over to her house and “hang out.”

…After sitting around for a while, some of the individuals in the group allegedly began smoking marijuana. Joseph said he declined to smoke with them and went outside. He began playing around outside with Avery Johnson. Joseph said he joked about punching Avery in the stomach. It was at that point the evening took a frightening turn.

“Joseph said that the next thing he knew, Amanda came up behind him and pushed him,” reads the police report. “Joseph said that after Amanda pushed him, he started running and while he did so, KJB came over and tripped him and he fell on his face. Joseph told Investigator Hart that as he tried to get up on all fours, KJB kicked him in the rib cage and Valerie kicked him in the leg. … Joseph said that Valerie then put her foot on the back of his neck and stepped down on it. Joseph said he also saw Amanda stomp on his left arm with her foot.”

Joseph was eventually able to break free from the group and ran off. When he returned to the home, he found one of his shoes in the toilet and another in the bathroom sink. He grabbed his shoes and sat on the porch, where he told investigators that he thought to himself, “I cannot do this anymore.”

I know what you're thinking.“Biff, who hasn't been there?  Who hasn't been promised sweet, sweet love, and, instead, been curb-stomped, left unshod and desolate outside on the porch, contemplating the decisions that led him to rock-bottom and a soon-to-be-had, barefooted walk-o-shame home?”

And if the story of Shoeless Joe ended there, I'd be with you on this, waving this whole tale of woe off, saying to Joe, “Dude, it gets better, hang on, some time in the future the right bad girl will come for you.”

But it doesn't end there. It goes on, and it gets worse.

Read more »

Whitney Houston 1963-2012

Rest in peace, Whitney. I'd say we hardly knew you, but after that reality show, I think we can all agree that's not as true as we would all like it to be.

I Am So Getting One of These

This is a completely hand-made by me, crocheted hat made to look like a breast when worn by a baby/toddler/child, while nursing!

It's made of 100% organic cotton, and is very soft and warm. You have the option of a pink nipple or a brown one and I can also make it in a different skin tone, or size, if you'd like

Four out of five babies surveyed* said breast milk tasted more awesome while they were wearing a boob beanie.

Said one baby, through a translator, “It's like the crocheted nipple served as an antennae for every pleasurable thing in the room, channeled all that goodness through my fontanel — or pleasure center, as we babies call it — and delivered that amplified ecstacy to my taste buds, uncut, pure as my itty, bitty soul. When the milk hit my tongue after that, it was like a rave in my mouth, little glow sticks exploding in my brain.

“Don't ask me to explain the science behind it. I'm just a baby. What do I know from science? What I do know is, if you love your baby, you know, really love him, you'll get him boob beanie.”


*Actual babies survey = 0.

Of Course, Do This in Your Car Any Other Day and the King Co. Sheriff's Department Is Going to Want to Have a Word with You (Don't Ask Me How I Know)

Cool. Hip. Artsy. Edgy. Well played, New York. Well played, indeed. But you know, if you hoist a funky pole, Seattle will run a freak flag up it, so by sponsoring this event, you knew it was only a matter of time before we replied, “Game on!”

True, Seattle doesn't have a subway system, only bus service, but if you've been on one of our buses, you know pants-less passengers pop up unexpectedly more than once a year. You also know it's neither cool nor hip nor artsy when it happens, and it's only edgy when incontinence is involved, as is, shamefully, too often the case. (It's generally the motive behind the pants-lessness—sad, I know.) As it turns out, the only thing the pants-less and incontinent love more than air drying their weeping brown eyes is free metro transit to all downtown locations. It doesn't make a good canvas for freak flag fun.

Which is why, partially, we opened our Light Rail Service last year. Yeah, ostensibly, we built it because we needed a commuter train linking the city to the airport, but I like to think we also did it so we could participate in the annual No Pants Ride.

Game on, mofos!

That's right, NYC. It. Is. On.

Punch Someone in the Chest for MLK Day. It's What He Would Have Wanted

My goal for MLK Day wasn't to do something grand, like spread justice throughout the land. It was to do something meager, something a person with my moral defects could manage. My goal: Don't put any more injustice into the mix. 


Goal met.

Since there're still a few minutes left in the day, I'm going to bed before I screw this up. 

Happy MLK Day, everyone!

Philada. July 5. 1775 

Mr. Strahan 

You are a Member of Parliament, and one of that Majority which has doomed my Country to Destruction. You have begun to burn our Towns and murder our People. — Look upon your hands! They are stained with the Blood of your Relations! — You and I were long Friends:— You are now my Enemy, — and  

I am,  

Yours. 

B. Franklin

There's much to admire in Ben Franklin. He was a activist, a revolutionary, a publisher, and a lech. But the title of his I admire most is letter writer.

I've always been an avid letter writer. When I was a kid, I was a pen pal. When I was in college, an activist with Amnesty International. It hasn't been until recently that I've slacked off, e-mail and text messaging filling in the void.

As convenient as those media are, they are not the same. Letter writing — pen to paper, stamp and post — is artful; it remains one of life's great pleasures for me. I hope I'll have more time to do it this year.

When I do, I hope I can follow Ben's example: concise, poetic, and clear. “I am yours.” Indeed.

That letter comes from this website, Letters of Note.

I've recommended it before, when I discovered what a misogynistic shit Mickey Mantle was. Keep in mind, “misogynistic shit” does not mean “not funny” because I laughed aloud when I read his contribution to the site. It's worth revisiting.

In 2012, You Can Still Get Reasonable Doubt for a Reasonable Price at Loman & Associates, Ltd.

A 36-year-old woman was accused of causing $10,000 worth of damage to a painting by the late abstract expressionist artist Clyfford Still, a work valued at more than $30 million, authorities said on Wednesday.

A police report said Carmen Tisch punched and scratched the painting, an oil-on-canvas called "1957-J no.2", at the recently opened Clyfford Still museum in Denver and pulled her pants down to slide her buttocks against it.

Tisch was charged with felony criminal mischief on Wednesday and has been held on a $20,000 bond since the incident in late December, said Lynn Kimbrough, spokeswoman for the Denver District Attorney's Office....

Tisch will be formally advised of the charges on Friday, Kimbrough said.

“Bifferson Loman, Esq. for the defense, Your Honor.”

“And how does your client intend to plea, Mr. Loman?”

“The same as all of my clients, Your Honor—Innocent.”

“Naturally.

“I'm sure the district attorney is as curious as I am as to how you plan to argue Innocence. Any chance we could have a preview of your strategy?”

“Certainly. Your Honor, my client's only crime is that like so many artists before her, she is misunderstood in her lifetime.…”

“Oh, jesus…

“In the early 20th century, Duchamp signed an urinal and asked, ‘Is it art?’

Exhibit A

“When my client was so rudely interrupted, she was in the midst of turning Duchamps' proposition on its head—looking at art and asking, ‘Is this the urinal?’ ”

“Your client is an artist? Who works in urine?”

“You have heard of the Piss Christ, haven't you, Your Honor?”

“Okay, but she seen rubbing her derrière against the painting…”

It was after she'd urinated, Your Honor. She was simply patting the dew off the daisy, as it were.”

“So the punching and scratching, …?”

“Part of the act: She was miming the frantic motions that go into setting off motion detectors for the soap dispenser, water, and paper towel machine, her point being, you can be an artist, and a lady.”

“So, your client is innocent of criminal mischief, guilty of conceptual art? I'm not buying it, Mr. Loman.”

“Of course, not, Your Honor. I wouldn't expect you to. But you give me one incontinent jurist, and my client is going to walk out of here an innocent woman.”

“I look forward to your day in court, Mr. Loman.”

God's Blog

UPDATE: Pretty pleased with what I’ve come up with in just six days. Going to take tomorrow off. Feel free to check out what I’ve done so far. Suggestions and criticism (constructive, please!) more than welcome. God out.

COMMENTS (24)

“Spoiler — One of them is going to eat something off that tree You told them not to touch.”

“Beta version was better. I thought the Adam-Steve dynamic was much more compelling than the Adam-Eve work-around You finally settled on.”

Shit Just Got Real

Santa Claus is coming to town.

He knows if you are Jewish.
He knows if you are poor.
Don't matter if you're bad or good.
He will skip your house for sure.

Oh, you better not shout, you better not cry,
You better not pout, 'cause that's all annoying.

Santa Claus is coming to town.

The elves are at work.
They're making your toys,
And by elves we mean Chinese girls and boys.

Santa Claus is outsourcing your future.

So leave some milk and cookies for jolly Ole St. Nick.
He'll eat them while he's shirtless taking picture of your dick.

So, …

Finally, proof that Santa Claus really was my father.

Hope you enjoyed the miracle of the holiday, everyone.

“I French Kiss.” “Phbbt! Everyone Does that.”“But Momma Says I'm the Best”

The gag at Thursday's pep assembly at Rosemount High School was supposed to be a joke. But when it went viral on YouTube some people didn't find it the least bit funny. 

“As principal I am responsible for everything that happens in the school so, ultimately, I am the person that needs to answer for this," school principal John Wollersheim said Wednesday. 

Staff at the school planned a prank for the assembly during which each of the winter sports team captains were blindfolded and kissed. 

The idea was that the students believe the kisser was another student and then guess who it was but the joke was the mystery kisser was that student's mom or dad. It was a gag that ultimately went awry.” 

“I know there are people who are upset about what they have seen and as principal I am responsible for what happens here. For all the people who are offended, they are genuinely offended, and I owe them an apology,” Wollersheim said. 

“This is supposed to be a fun event and it should leave everyone feeling pepped and if it is leaving people not feeling good or embarrassed or hurt that is absolutely the opposite of what we are trying to do. 

“Needless to say, we're postponing the Parent-Student Key Party until further notice. “We're going to get at least one event right this year, gosh darn it.”

“This is supposed to be a fun event and it should leave everyone feeling pepped...” Unless “pepped” is midwestern slang for “homicidal with humiliation and shame,” I have no idea what you're talking about.

Read more »