February 14, 2015
Valentine’s Day is a wonderful, sweet, kindhearted and gentle hunk of fucking shit that we celebrate in all of its beautiful, glorious, well-intentioned, immoral, mean-spirited, selfish fuckin’ smegma anus fuck shit love every February 14, god bless it.
Valentine’s Day is so good for the world.
Valentine’s Day is so goddamn good for humanity, because when it was created at the turn of the century, it proposed the radical idea that we should be nice the people we love, and we should not be mean to them, for one day out of 365.
This is the day when we all give our loved ones gifts, such as the ultimate symbol of romance: A bear holding a human heart between its vicious claws with words carved into it.
Valentine’s Day is a lovely institution.
If you’re like most humans, you forget to be nice to the people who make you happy. And so we must be thankful to the great and beautiful and flawless celebration of St. Valentine’s Day, for giving us insight into the notion that it’s good to be nice, and that it’s bad to be not nice, for one day out of 365.
What many people don’t know is that February 14 is also home to the less-popular celebration of Don’t Eat Poison Day.
This is when family and friends gather together in a living room for one day out of 365, and say, “Hey, let’s not eat any poison today.”
“No cyanide, no gasoline, no strychnine, no tetrodotoxin, no Clorox, no ricin, or arsenic. We won’t be eating any of that on this one day of the year.”
The man who invented Valentine’s Day is the most evil man I ever met. He actually goes to the beach and tapes soda-packaging back together so that seagulls will choke.
His weekend hobby is to photoshop Dove Soap advertisements. Not to make the models look thinner, but to make them look more like Chairman Mao.
His first invention was a lubricant for retirement home floors, and this fucker’s second invention was Nilla Wafers.
This is a man devoid of love.
His favorite band is The Eagles, and he once murdered Gandhi.
Steven Gandhi, from Baltimore. Finest mechanic in the tri-county area.
The United Kingdom banned all pornographers within its borders from producing any material that includes:
-Verbal abuse (even if it’s consensual)
-Female ejaculation (AKA “squirting”)
Cumshots are conspicuously absent, and we can probably assume that “squirting” made it on the list because people are afraid that female ejaculate contains trace amounts of urine.
The jury is still out about just how much, if any, urine is in female ejaculate. But here are some things to consider:
1. Piss is a mostly harmless liquid that is not horrifying.
2. Semen is millions of tiny, orphaned tadpoles looking for a home, swimming in translucent-ish white-ish goo that smells like those weird bushes that blossom during spring.
But on the other hand, language is tricky.
October 26, 2014
The New York Times finally printed the term “hand job,” twice in one article about college hookup culture.
This is the most famous newspaper on the planet, and it is so squeamish that it has printed the word “fuck” only once in its history—16 years ago, when Monica Lewinsky was quoted in the Starr Report.
This is a newspaper that routinely interviews army veterans about their experiences on the battlefield, but won’t use the word “shit.”
Eventually, The New York Times will start regularly printing the word “shit,” once it realizes how ubiquitous and useful the word is. But it printed “hand job” first, which makes the timeline so fantastic:
A multi-billion dollar media empire that chooses to censor itself—despite that it doesn’t have to answer to any government institution—has finally acknowledged that hand jobs are more good than shit.
May 27, 2010
A biologist is on the radio, and he thinks that women’s breasts evolved to be larger than other animals’ breasts because when humans started walking upright, their vagina area became less prominent, so nature provided that their chests imitate a sweet lookin’ buttocks, shaped as they are to attract a mate. If this is true, then not only is fucking a lady in the tits a biological imperative, but also, in hundreds of thousands of years, ladies’ asscheeks might have nipples. And that would be really cool.
But not for the baby.
Which is when we see an Epiphany: Sometimes things are good, but at other times, on occasion, things are bad.
So, oh hey, a transition…
The guy who writes all the songs for the rock band The Eagles was once interviewed on the Rachel Maddow show in the future.
And Rachel Maddow in the future asked him, “Hey, what’s better: Unconditional love and kindness, or genocide?”
And the guy who writes all the songs for The Eagles said, “I prefer genocide. I love genocide and I hate love.”
Rachel Maddow responded, “It’s not OK to say things like that, guy. That’s bad.”
And then the guy who writes all the songs for The Eagles said, “Say… You’re lookin’ pretty cute there, sweetheart. Do you want some fries to go with that vagina?”
And then Rachel Maddow said, “I think your music is shit.”
February 14, 1989
A death sentence was put on a guy today because he wrote a weird book.
But Valentine’s Day can still be a lovely institution.
A lovely institution.