Sunday, October 22, 2006
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Sharktasmic
Good evening and this picture...
CAUTION: Leaving this wrapper unattended could lead to the suffocation of strong sad!
(Psssh... http://www.homestarrunner.com/vcr_ss.html)
What IS this?! Warning: this product may transform you into an oral sex doll? It might turn your head into a road sign? You may become a round peg in a square hole?
If only I could remember what the product actually WAS, we could all safely avoid it...
Oh well.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Dad, Stop Reading My Blog and other children's stories
Good evening and I totally forgot I had a blog for a few days there. whoops. I must have been too busy doing NOTHING because I have no life and I live with my parents. right. that must have been it.
Tonight I would like to discuss with you the concept of scientific conversion, which in my mind conjures up images along the line of -
Stop. Hammertime.
We interrupt this regularly scheduled program because there's an ad on the TV for Cellflirt. For those of you who do not stay up watching comedy central all night long (diving for the remote should Mind of Mencia spring unexpectedly upon you like a ninjapuma), Cellflirt is the paragon of hot steamy sex. And by sex I mean of course cell phone erotica that does not involve any actual sex. However, unlike the mom-and-pop phone sex operations of yore, wherein you ring up ol' Fanny Mae and get your tele-phreak on live and in person (sort of), Cellflirt has advanced sex into the next generation of telecommunications: text messaging.
In the beginning, there was sex; boring old-fashioned sex where you actually had to SEE and FEEL and SMELL (and taste!) the person you were gettin' nekked with. Fortunately, the genius of Alexander Graham Bell rescued us from this atrocity by bringing us phone sex... Either that or the graham cracker, I'm not sure which. Regardless, this invention rendered the other person extraneous to the equation, sparing you from having to see their orgasm-contorted face or experience any of those other lame "senses." The end result is that you were finally free to engage in a little do-it-yourself lovin whilst being aurally pleasured by a complete stranger- No Partner Necessary! (Void Where Prohibited, Some Rules and Restrictions Apply). Unfortunately, the crumbly nature of phone sex (or was it graham crackers?) caused a number of complications (read: ants), forcing telesexuals to come up with a new solution.
Enter Cellflirt. By simply texting 'Relax' or 'Tease' to 44321, you can now engage in some hot late night action with someone you can no longer certify is even a member of the desired sex. For all we know, there's a computer at the other end, programmed by some D&D nerd to randomly reply with one of 135, 214 sensual responses guaranteed to make it worth the small fortune theyre charging you.
Horny texter: "Tease"
SexBot5000: "Oh Baby. I'm so horny."
Horny texter: "Me 2. What R U wearing?"
SexBot5000: "Nothing."
Horny texter: "Me either."
SexBot5000: "You find a +2 Dagger of Glendor's Wrath. "
HornyTexter: "Huh?"
SexBot5000: "Nothing baby, dont stop."
All questing aside, it seems the point is to suspend this sort of disbelief: people text it up with invisible partners so that they dont have to settle for what they can get in real life. So let's say, just for a second, that there actually IS a hot young blonde or 5 on the other end of your connection, as the commercial implies. Just how are you supposed to conduct any, uh, business, when your paws are all tied up texting? I mean, personally, were I to spend actual money texting one of these hotlines, the button I would be pushing would not be found on a keypad.
Well. That post did not go even remotely where I intended, but it was an exhilarating ride nonetheless. Join me next time I remember, when we will discuss important matters concerning weights and measures and boobs. No lie.
In the mean time, watch out for ants.
Tonight I would like to discuss with you the concept of scientific conversion, which in my mind conjures up images along the line of -
Stop. Hammertime.
We interrupt this regularly scheduled program because there's an ad on the TV for Cellflirt. For those of you who do not stay up watching comedy central all night long (diving for the remote should Mind of Mencia spring unexpectedly upon you like a ninjapuma), Cellflirt is the paragon of hot steamy sex. And by sex I mean of course cell phone erotica that does not involve any actual sex. However, unlike the mom-and-pop phone sex operations of yore, wherein you ring up ol' Fanny Mae and get your tele-phreak on live and in person (sort of), Cellflirt has advanced sex into the next generation of telecommunications: text messaging.
In the beginning, there was sex; boring old-fashioned sex where you actually had to SEE and FEEL and SMELL (and taste!) the person you were gettin' nekked with. Fortunately, the genius of Alexander Graham Bell rescued us from this atrocity by bringing us phone sex... Either that or the graham cracker, I'm not sure which. Regardless, this invention rendered the other person extraneous to the equation, sparing you from having to see their orgasm-contorted face or experience any of those other lame "senses." The end result is that you were finally free to engage in a little do-it-yourself lovin whilst being aurally pleasured by a complete stranger- No Partner Necessary! (Void Where Prohibited, Some Rules and Restrictions Apply). Unfortunately, the crumbly nature of phone sex (or was it graham crackers?) caused a number of complications (read: ants), forcing telesexuals to come up with a new solution.
Enter Cellflirt. By simply texting 'Relax' or 'Tease' to 44321, you can now engage in some hot late night action with someone you can no longer certify is even a member of the desired sex. For all we know, there's a computer at the other end, programmed by some D&D nerd to randomly reply with one of 135, 214 sensual responses guaranteed to make it worth the small fortune theyre charging you.
Horny texter: "Tease"
SexBot5000: "Oh Baby. I'm so horny."
Horny texter: "Me 2. What R U wearing?"
SexBot5000: "Nothing."
Horny texter: "Me either."
SexBot5000: "You find a +2 Dagger of Glendor's Wrath. "
HornyTexter: "Huh?"
SexBot5000: "Nothing baby, dont stop."
All questing aside, it seems the point is to suspend this sort of disbelief: people text it up with invisible partners so that they dont have to settle for what they can get in real life. So let's say, just for a second, that there actually IS a hot young blonde or 5 on the other end of your connection, as the commercial implies. Just how are you supposed to conduct any, uh, business, when your paws are all tied up texting? I mean, personally, were I to spend actual money texting one of these hotlines, the button I would be pushing would not be found on a keypad.
Well. That post did not go even remotely where I intended, but it was an exhilarating ride nonetheless. Join me next time I remember, when we will discuss important matters concerning weights and measures and boobs. No lie.
In the mean time, watch out for ants.
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