I know you're getting chubby just looking at it. I know she is.
Okay, let’s not bullshit one another here. You’re on the Internet, you’ve probably seen some porn on here. If you’re denying it, don’t worry – we’ll wait until your mom leaves your bedroom and we can go back to talking.Okay. There’s a lot of porn of the Internet and that’s a given. Straight porn, gay porn, bi porn, animal porn, amputee porn, interracial porn, porn porn porn porn. A lot of times, people start looking at the weird subclasses of porn just to see something unique. It’s that oversaturation of normal porn that pushes people to finding new kicks out there on the Internet Superhighway 66. But nothing, nothing in the world really justifies watching handjob porn. Nope. Nothing.
The whole concept of handjob porn is unbelieveable. Quick raise of hands, preferably the one you have not been holding your junk with - in a real life scenario, would you rather have A. a blowjob or B. a hand job? There you go! Handjobs are the Miss Congeneality of sexual acts – the Certificate of Merit you get just for showing up and entering the contest. If a woman is offering you a handjob at the end of the night, it’s usually because she’s not in the mood but would at least like to acknowledge you did pay for a fairly nice meal. A handjob is a lovely parting gift you take home after losing on a gameshow. It’s Turtle Wax for your pud.
So why would anyone want to watch someone getting the sexual consolation prize on the Internet? What’s the point? Wait, you want to see a penis getting jerked off? Here’s a flash for you, turbo! Look down! What’s that? Hey, son of a gun! And it’s yours! Isn’t that something?
At least would you do THIS?
Don’t even give the shoddy excuse that you can imagine it’s the woman’s hand cupping the bishop while you’re doing that, because that’s even more embarsassing an explanation - what kind of lousy imagination would you have if that’s the best thing you can come up with during masturbation… and yet you still need a visual aid to get the job done? Jesus, did Mommy smoke while she was pregnant with you?
Two Girls, One Cup might be disturbing for someone to spank the monkey with, but at least it shows ambition and a willingness to do something new. Handjob porn however, is a pointless, useless act. Al Gore did not create the Internet for such things – he meant it for clown rape, foot bondage and midgets. And baby, you should be thankful for that.
Here’s a game for everyone. It’s called, “Whom Do I Slap?” Give ten people a choice between Coke or Pepsi. You don’t even have to have the actual soft drinks, just give them this choice. And of these ten people, a reasonable margin will select Pepsi. Another margin will select Coke. And then they’re will be one or two people who will select Dr. Pepper. And those are the people you need to slap. And slap them hard, for about an hour or so. Even after your hand starts getting tired and sore, keep going. Because these people need you to straight them out, and have asked you to do so by deliberating being stupid in your presence.
It goes against the basic fundamental concept of the term “choice”, which is “Of these options given to you, select one.” Either/or. It’s fiendishly simple. Choose, numbskull. People don’t do this with directions. When they’re coming to a fork in the road that give them an option of left or right, do these fucknuts really try to go straight? Why aren’t there more auto fatalities for these people? Or at least make it a DMV question. “Which way do you go? Left or Right?” And if they select Straight, they get no driver’s license and everyone in the DMV gets five minutes at slapping them repeatedly. Wouldn’t that make going to the DMV far more satisfying?
It’s insulting to expect a third choice of your host in selecting something that is not being offered. “Would you like to have beer or wine?” “I’ll drink whiskey.” “Fine go get yourself, you cocksucker.” Slap. If you don’t LIKE your choices, then select NEITHER. Nil is *always* a choice, but EVERYTHING isn’t. Doesn’t work like that. Instead, we think we’re being cute by going outside of the rules. And for that….slap.
I think it might be an American thing, expecting to have more choices than are offered to you. This may be why the rest of world thinks we need a slap. Good thing we have nuclear weapons. But it doesn’t mean we don’t deserve it. Repeatedly. We don’t get to have everything. Not everything is on the menu. You are not being clever by offering something that is not a choice, you are requesting to be the recipient of the Slap Game.
Then again, if that’s what you want, be my guest. That’s always your choice.
It will be extremely disappointing if David Carradine is found to have checked out of this mortal coil doing something as flagrantly stupid as this. I don’t care what a person does behind closed door to get their jollies – stick your prig in cake batter, for all I care. But there’s no good reason to consider the idea of cutting off the air to your wind pipe while you’re tossing one off to the hotel stroke movie you rented. I don’t care if you start shooting out daisies and fireworks out of your penis while you do this, it’s JUST NOT A GOOD IDEA!
And the alone part – what the hell? It’s like those idiots who decide to go rock-climbing in the National parks alone – you’re basically making the decision – “You know, I want to be found dead today. No really, I do. But I want to be found in the most embarassing way possible – for myself, for my friends and family, oh and especially my children. I want the whole world to think I’m an idiot, and have a mental image of my dead body naked over a stroke mag while I got a curtain rope around my neck. THAT’s what I want to be remembered for.”
Why can’t celebrities just go fuck a hooker? I’ll even settle for a pre-op transexual hooker. Oh you all may have laughed when Eddie Murphy was caught giving a pre-op transexual hooker a ride home, but at least he wasn’t found by the housekeeping staff with his dick in his hand and his throat tied with a bowline knot. Kept him juuuuust fine for doing shitty Disney movies for kids. Because in the land of Disney, pre-op hookers is a-okay with Walt, but not choking your chicken while choking your chicken.
I am not keen to the idea of Big Dave Carradine checking out due to depression and suicidal thoughts, but is that truly worse than deciding to get his jollies off in an international hotel with a rope around his neck? JESUS, Dave! Buy an INXS album! THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU’RE DOING!
“I’m not trying to prove to anybody that I’m going to be here for 30 years.”
Don’t worry, darling. We have so little fear in that. We’re counting down that fifteen minutes of fame clock, so we can throw you back to the Long Island laundromat you’ll be working for the rest of your days, smoking an unfiltered Marlboro with your dark roots showing, adjust your flappy hooters in a latex tube-top, mumbling incoherently, “Do ya know who I used to be? Huh? Do ya?”
No, lady. And I don’t care. Give me the change for the dollar I gave you, or I’ll do my laundry somewhere else. And put on some goddamn pants.
