More bird comix! I got birds on the brain! Please help rid me of these brain-birds.
This one is based on a suggestion which was given when I asked for them last week: @Mark_Pain how about kiwi birds :D ? — Patty Kactopin (@Patyfer_) September 19, 2013
If you want to see a comic about a particular thing or subject, you can shout it at me on twitter! Why not right?
His name? Billy.
Watch him watch your stress just melt away. The backdrop is simply mesmerizing. The music, orgasms for your ears.
Feel that tingle in your brain? That’s Billy. He’s massaging your head right now. 
    
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Which affords you a lifetime supply of ‘being an awesome person’. Were there any critical ones we left off? Let us know on Facebook.
Stare at the center of the top part for 30 seconds then look at the painting.
Dublin Zoo's twin Red Panda cubs, born on July 14, are just starting to venture outside of their den at thee months old. The thriving cubs have a very strong bond with their parents, Angelina and Chota. The twins, one male and one female, weighed approximately .3 pounds (150 grams) at birth, but are growing steadily.
Team Leader Eddie O’Brien says, “Red pandas are endangered in the wild so we are over the moon that this is the third litter born to Angelina and Chota. The cubs are both doing very well and getting more adventurous and confident.”
Dublin Zoo is hosting a naming contest for the pair on their FaceBook page. They are looking for names that celebrate the Red Panda's Asian origin. To submit your ideas, just post a comment here.
Photo credits: Patrick Bolger / Dublin Zoo
Red Pandas are not closely related to Giant Pandas; rather, they belong in their own unique group that is more closely related to weasels. They are native to the eastern Himalayas and southwestern China. Fully grown, they are slightly larger than domestic cats. Red Pandas spend most of their time in trees, eating a variety of fruits, leaves and eggs. Their long bushy tails are excellent for balance, and also serve as a cozy wrap-around scarf for the Red Panda in cold weather. They also have fur on the soles of their feet to prevent them from slipping on wet branches.
Although protected throughout most of their range, Red Pandas are threatened by poaching and habitat loss. They have been classified as Vulnerable by the International Union for Conservation of Species; it is estimated that there are fewer than 10,000 adult Red Pandas.
Kanye flipped out on Jimmy Kimmel over Twitter (and over the phone, supposedly).
Check out Jimmy Kimmel’s response here:
This is what started all of it.
“Does Kanye West know he’s not supposed to be his own hype man?”
JIMMY KIMMEL IS OUT OF LINE TO TRY AND SPOOF IN ANY WAY THE FIRST PIECE OF HONEST MEDIA IN YEARS
— KANYE WEST (@kanyewest) September 27, 2013
JIMMY KIMMEL, I DON'T TAKE IT AS A JOKE…. YOU DON'T HAVE SCUM BAGS HOPPING OVER FENCES TRYING TO TAKE PICTURES OF YOUR DAUGHTER
— KANYE WEST (@kanyewest) September 27, 2013
JIMMY KIMMEL PUT YOURSELF IN MY SHOES … OH NO THAT MEANS YOU WOULD HAVE GOTTEN TOO MUCH GOOD PUSSY IN YOUR LIFE…
— KANYE WEST (@kanyewest) September 27, 2013
SHOULD I DO A SPOOF ABOUT YOUR FACE OR YOU FUCKING BEN AFFLECK…#NODISRESPECTTOBENAFFLECK #ALLDISRESPECTTOJIMMYKIMMEL!!!!
— KANYE WEST (@kanyewest) September 27, 2013
SHOULD I DO A SPOOF ABOUT YOUR FACE OR YOU FUCKING BEN AFFLECK…#NODISRESPECTTOBENAFFLECK #ALLDISRESPECTTOJIMMYKIMMEL!!!!
— KANYE WEST (@kanyewest) September 27, 2013
I LIKE YOU, YOU KNOW ME, I WENT TO YOUR FAMILY'S WEDDING
— KANYE WEST (@kanyewest) September 27, 2013
WHO YOU MADE IT CLEAR TO ME WASN'T YOUR FAMILY WHEN I WAS ON THEN PHONE WITH YOU 5 MINUTES AGO, YOU MANIPULATIVE MEDIA MUTHERFUCKER.
— KANYE WEST (@kanyewest) September 27, 2013
SARAH SILVERMAN IS A THOUSAND TIMES FUNNIER THAN YOU AND THE WHOLE WORLD KNOWS IT!!!
— KANYE WEST (@kanyewest) September 27, 2013
— KANYE WEST (@kanyewest) September 27, 2013
— KANYE WEST (@kanyewest) September 27, 2013
Damn.
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Everyone has them, and if you pretend like you don’t, you’re a liar on top of having an embarrassing guilty pleasure. And in the interest of full disclosure, I will reveal one of mine: listening to early-2000s R&B/pop, such as Dream or 3LW, and pretending to be the star of the video, complete with humiliating dance moves in front of the mirror and using furniture as props. There, I said it. Here, Reddit on some of their own shameful/wonderful activities:
When I’m cooking and alone I like to pretend I have my own cooking show. I told my best friend and she ‘co-starred’ once. I regret nothing.
reading craigslist “missed connections”… or sometimes “casual encounters”…
When my bus is empty I like to sing bohemian rhapsody as loud as I can. I did this once when I thought my bus was empty…. there was 1 guy I couldnt see in my mirror and when he got off the bus he just started laughing hysterically.
I’m a 37 year old straight male, and I… have fatherly feelings towards Megan Fox. I know she’s considered by plenty of people to be smoking hot, but I feel absolutely zero sexual attraction towards her. Instead, I visit a fan site every few weeks to check on how she’s doing, and feel pleased when I see paparazzi pictures of her with her husband and stepson, looking happy. And despite that, I have no desire to know every minute fact of her existence, or stalk her further than that. I just go “I wonder how Megan’s doing”, check on the gossip, and go on with my life.
Yeah. Now you know my secret shame.
Whenever I watch Liam Neeson in a movie, I like to imagine he’s my father, and this is the story of how he kicked ass.
I watch a lot of tortoise sex youtube clips. I think their grunting is hilarious. I also have illustrated it in series of watercolor paintings…
Edited to include proof of painting.
Picking a massive booger and getting it in one go.
Or when you pick one and it turns out to be a long stringing one that was waaaaaay up in your sinuses and you pull it out, and you can feel it for like 5 seconds.
Fried chicken, watermelon and grape soda. I’m black. It’s so stereotypical I just can’t stand it.
I tell people that Ryan Gosling is my favorite actor. They say, “The guy from The Notebook?” I tell them I haven’t seen it. I cite movies like Blue Valentine, Lars and the Real Girl, and Half Nelson.
But, oh god, have I seen The Notebook. I’ve seen it real hard.
I like to drink chocolate milk with a soup spoon and bowl, pretending it’s chocolate soup.
I try to act like i don’t pay attention to Grey’s Anatomy when my wife watches it, but sometimes i really get into it. I like Dr. Bailey.
Letting off a huge silent fart. The kind where you can feel the heat and intensity of the gas just slowly drift up and spread.
Or… uh… When you’re a girl and the little fart bubble goes forward instead back. You know what I mean?
I get bad bloody noses in the shower occasionally … as in the blood is almost a continuous stream. I gather a pool of it in my hands and either drip it over myself or make bloody hand streaks on the walls. There’s just something so fascinating about seeing your own blood like that.
When no one is around and I’m having a dull day, I like to suddenly scream, “CHARMANDER CHAAAARRRRR!!” and then get on with whatever it is I’m doing.
The Gilmore Girls. Fuck I love that show. I used to watch it in bed in the morning during the summer and if my mom came in, I’d quickly change channels to make it look as if I’d been watching something entirely different, as if I’d been watching porn.
Musicals. I can quote Mary Poppins, The Sound of Music, and The Music Man almost line for line.
Midget pornography. This is the first/last time I will ever admit this to anybody.
Whenever I’m at home alone, I usually end up on Youtube watching marriage proposal videos. Dozens of them. While watching them, I laugh, I cry, I smile, and I wish it was me.
I like to use the restroom while playing classical music, most often I play requiem. It makes me feel like the fate of the world depends on my pooping powers.
I’m a straight male and I love fingering my asshole.
I enjoy pulling long hairs out from my ass crack that may have fallen stray from my head. Feels good.
I LOVE popping pimples.
My ex g/f used to love that too (That I used to love popping them)
She had this Sebaceous cyst on her side (under her bra line beneath her armpit) one time that needed to get popped… I guess it didn’t NEED it.
I FUCKING WANTED IT. It was massive. So massive in fact, that when I started popping it, I was giddy like a little kid. She thought it was hilarious that I was so worked up over it.
The popping sound, and this one squirted on her damn wall. She was lying on her side on the bed, and BOOM! Up the wall.Amazing. Gross, but amazing.
She had the best pimples. lol
Sometimes I hold in my pee until I can’t any more and then I wet myself on purpose. It’s a masturbatory sort of a pleasure but not something I’d ever want to bring into the bedroom with a partner. I’ve associated having to pee with being turned on for as long as I can remember…
Editor’s note: This is grossly mis-spelled and mis-grammared, but it feels wrong to alter something this precious from its natural state. The syntax is part of the art.
I remember when I used to jack off in the shower as a kid I’d make sure I had to pee really bad before showering and then when I came at the last possible moment when my orgasm was about to wear off I’d relax my bladder and the jet off piss would extend my orgasm for as long as I was pissing. I also loved the pleasurepain from jerking off as hard as I could right after I came.
Another guilty pleasure is scrolling through my older brothers exes facebook. Not just for the obvious “bikini pic” reasons and fact that I once “accidentally” walked in on her getting dressed and using the toilet.
Firstoff I should say that I never actually dressed up as a tomboy and rubbed cum onto toilet paper in a womans mall food court bathroom (didn’t mail flowers to the photobucket student either), I figured that would be obvious cause of how ridiculous it was but most people seemed to believe me. I do have a huge fetish and many elaborate fantasies about women unwittingly handling my semen though.
It started about 8 years ago when I was 15. When I first started producing semen with my orgasms I freaked out, and was very meticulous about cleaning it up. Oftentimes I’d squeeze my dick and just let it dribble out and do the ‘ol “cup and slurp” and not have to bother with kleenex. From jerking off freely in the shower I realized how much better freely ejaculating felt and I vowed never to hinder my orgasms again. Once I got the internet in my room it naturally became my jerkoff center and having a large empty space of floor near my computer I’d just let my jizz fly freely.
Since I was jerking off 6-12 times a day paper towels would be a huge hassle, so I soon settled on t-shirts. I hated using my day to day clothes so a vintage ninja turtles t-shirt I’d last wore when I was 11 became my “jizz mop.” It was a group shot of all 4 turtles inside a circle and the way Michaelangelo smiled and gave the thumbs up was kind of like he was encouraging me to ejaculate.
I’d freely jizz all over the floor (usually to ideepthroat.com clips or short preview clips I found on magicteapot.com) then get the turtles shirt out of my desk drawer, mop it up and toss it back in the drawer. After 5 days and over 40 loads it was more cum than shirt and would refuse to absorb anything. At which point I’d do a wash, and reluctantly use kleenex as a backup.
My super cool 20 year old brother had an absolutely gorgeous and kind girlfriend he met at university, who often stayed over in our house during the summer. I live on a lake in Nova Scotia, and she’d often spend hours lazing out on the dock with my brother and I’ll admit to staring at her bikini cleavage through binoculars out my upstairs window and furiously whacking off.One morning I went down to breakfast and saw her at the table wearing my turtles shirt. It took every ounce of energy not to point and shout “my jizz mop!!!” instead I said “oh, my old turtles shirt!” She laughed and said. “oh, it was in your brothers laundry. It’s got some grease stains but it’s super comfortable and makes a great pajama top!”
“Haha, no problem, you can keep it. I haven’t worn it in years!” This was fabric I had ejaculated on nearly a thousand times and she was wearing it! Even though it was washed I could clearly make out several cum stains and the fact they were touching her skin drove me wild. It was almost like I was constantly ejaculating on her milky skin every second she wore that shirt. My mom said “oh isn’t this nice!” when she saw us all eating breakfast together and took some pictures. Once they were developed I scanned them into my computer and they soon became my primary pornography. And I got instantly hard whenever I saw her at our house wearing the shirt and would have to sprint into my room to jerk off.
A few weeks later I was looking in my moms closet for my old nintendo system and games when I found a box of vintage t-shirts from the early 80′s. My brothers girlfriend wasn’t exactly a hipster but she LOVED vintage t-shirts. Looking through the box I realized many of the designs on the front were iron on patches. A lightbulb went off in my head and I got a glass of water, turned the shirt inside out and splashed some on the back of the patch. Sure enough when the shirt was de-insideouted no discoloration or darkness from the water was visible. I then hauled the box into my room, turned all the shirts with decals inside out, came into my handm and rubbed my semen all over the back of the patches and then hung them in my closet to dry.
After a few hours I smelt them and though I didn’t really notice anything I rubbed a small amount of deoderant on them just to be safe.
I then lovingly refolded them and put them back in the box and in my moms room, then yelled to my brother, “hey look what I found!” “Holy shit! Sarah would love these!” And they ended up being part of his birthday gift to her. She screamed when she opened them and ended up trying on every shirt. She actually went for a jog with my brother that night and I’m almost certain the sweat and heat would have made caused the semen to leak and be absorbed by her skin, and travel through her bloodstream. For the next month she almost always wore a shirt that had absorbed my ejaculate, and it never failed to turn me on.
After a couple of years they broke up, as young lovers do. But it was on friendly terms and I now have her as a facebook friend, and she wears the turtles and iron on shirts to this day! She’s in an all girl indy/punk rockish band in Montreal now and on their facebook page you can see a few concert pics where her and her bandmates are all wearing the jizz shirts!
Whenever I have “masturbation block” and nothings doing it for me, all I need to do is open the folder of her pictures on my desktop, see my fossils touching her, and I’m home.
Sometimes I think horrible thoughts, like my mother dying, to purposefully make myself sad. I do this to make myself cry a lot because it helps me sleep sometimes and it makes me feel really good when I wake up.
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"Breaking Bad" could be the best show in the history of television. It's also very American, in that it pretty much only makes sense in this country.
ORIGINAL: By Christopher Keelty. Cartoon used with permission.
1. Tell your partner exactly what you like in the bedroom without feeling ashamed, embarrassed or guilty.
2. Stand up for yourself in relationships/work/family settings, especially if you’re being picked on or abused in some way.
3. Ask your employer for a raise — given, of course, that you really deserve one.
4. Know how to tell someone you have a huge crush on them. Learn how to accept it and move on feelings-wise if they don’t feel the same way.
5. Change the subject, especially if you’re talking to somebody lame and the convo seems to be going nowhere.
6. Speaking of which, you also should know the proper way to get OUT of conversations. We have all been in a situation where there’s a group convo going on and you’re just not feeling it anymore and you want to excuse yourself without being rude. Doing this is an art form.
7. Popping into a work function, saying your hello’s and slipping out before anybody notices. They will remember that you were there, not that you left early.
8. How to listen to ask a question after a lecture. Even when you’re an academic and your profession is asking people questions, it is still frightening to ask a question in a room of strangers.
9. Give someone an awesome gift. Not just some dumb trinket you picked up at a dollar bin, but a gift that really speaks to the person you’re giving it to. Those are the best.
10. How to kiss — or at least, how to adopt your style of kissing to somebody else’s.
11. Take a good selfie. Come on, we are in the era of the selfie. I selfie therefore I am.
12. Be able to go to the club and dance to at least a little bit. People get so worked up about going out and start to feel insecure about their bodies in front of a mass of strangers. Here’s a tip: find the person dancing the stupidest and try hard not to look like that guy!
13. Keep a budget.
14. End a relationship when you both quietly know it is past its sell-by date.
15. Be okay being alone. It’s never a good idea to jump into a relationship or latch onto somebody just because you feel lonely.
16. And speaking of which, you should know how to love yourself. We all have bad days. Sometimes we wake up and our face is puffy, our weave is just not laying correctly and we are #overit. But you have to love yourself just as much on your bad days as on the days when you’re feeling flawless and fabulous.
17. Give somebody a massage.
18. Know what to do if you are choking. Sounds morbid, but actually DO you know how to react if you are alone and start choking on something?
19. Leave a proper tip. Remember that that money is going to go a long way for them.
20. Speed read. This is something they try to teach you in high school but it’s a skill you really master in graduate school. Reading as an undergraduate is scary because you may not know just what will be on the test. But if you go to graduate school in the humanities, there are no tests and you learn how to read to “get the gist.”
21. Throw a party — any kind of party you want. A listening party, a dance party, a house party, a dinner party. Having awesome social skills is cool and will make you loved by everyone.
22. Pick out an outfit for yourself and WORK it.
23. Have a creative outlet. Maybe you’ll discover you have whole new talents.
24. How to not get jealous of other people’s success. No matter how many accolades they accumulate, they also have a shit ton of problems, too. Believe me.
25. Read another person’s body language. Everything we want to tell each other is right there.
26. Learn how to deal with annoying customer service.
27. Say “No” and mean it when you say it.
28. BACK UP YOUR FILES BACK UP YOUR FILES BACK UP YOUR FILES.
29. Learn how to cook for yourself. It really isn’t all that difficult. Experiment!
30. Figure out ways to promote yourself without being annoying and slimy about it, especially if you work in a creative field.
31. Flirt with somebody to get something you want. People love being flirted with — it’s social currency.
32. Wake up when your alarm goes off without snoozing for 5 hours, especially if you have roommates.
33. Give someone your honest opinion without fear. Hope that they will learn something from the criticism. But also, you should know how to take criticism yourself.
34. Know how to introduce yourself to someone. First impressions count!
35. Figure out what your drink is.
36. Overcome your fears. That thing scares you to death, I get it. But sometimes, the only thing holding you back is you.
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Kanye West recently sat down for an interview with BBC Radio 1, and was his typical obnoxious self, which naturally resulted in a groan-inducing parody via Jimmy Kimmel. For the sketch, Kimmel filmed the same interview, but with child actors. You can watch it here, but it isn’t that funny, unless you’re maybe someone’s Aunt, in which case I won’t stand in your way of forwarding it to everyone on your AOL account’s address book.
Kanye West, who is known to have a sense of humor and be a good sport about these things, was deeply offended by the video and went on a long Twitter rant:
And so on. Josh Groban should probably sing these.
Kimmel responded on his show last night, explaining that Kanye called him in his office and demanded an on-air apology, saying that Kimmel’s life would be much better if he apologized. Instead, Kimmel read all of Kanye’s tweets on the air.
What everyone’s wondering, in light of Kimmel’s twerking prank, is if this is an elaborate prank. Kimmel claims it isn’t, and he’s probably telling the truth. I doubt the Kimmel writers would try to attempt another prank so close to their previous one. Also, they could probably write funnier tweets for Kanye to send.
Then again, who can be trusted anyore, when seemingly everything on the internet lately has turned out to be a complicated ruse?
Watch Kimmel’s non-apology video below:
Let’s consider nutrition in America. The healthiest foods for you are vegetables and lean proteins (says my dietician, at least). What do we actually eat? Sugar and carbs. There are billions of dollars being made helping people eat more nutritiously while giving them the kind of tastes they like. People do not choose what is healthiest for them, they choose what they like and pay people to add nutrition in the back end.
If people think it’s terrible that people don’t just will-power themselves into eating healthy without making the diet more palatable, they can follow their own advice. It doesn’t harm them for others to do what works for them.
What is the healthiest kind of content to read? If we look at online reading as something we do purely to learn or make ourselves smarter (it’s not, see #2) then I think reading Plato and Nietzsche and Thomas Merton everyday would be the way to go. But, will people choose this option? It’s already readily available. Plato’s works are in the public domain. Have at it.
If that doesn’t work for you, it’s probably edifying to read someone’s list of 6 Things I Don’t Like About Breaking Bad and disagree with the writer. You will probably consider the Ring of Gyges question in your head, without ever using those words.
Listicles are entertaining to read. People are weirdly puritanical about entertainment, I think because they feel guilty about pleasure. There’s a poem I like where the writer says, “only Dostoyevsky can be Dostoyevskian at such long tumultuous stretches.” We’re allowed to take a break from doing stuff constantly. It’s human.
Jane Eyre is entertainment. Lolita is entertainment. CNN is entertainment of another form. Entertainment is everything. Do you want to sit around contemplating your own mortality/existential despair? Nope. Distractions please!
There’s this idea that there’s a chasm between something that’s “entertaining” and something that causes you to think. The reason I started writing on the internet is because four years ago I was watching The Real World with friends and my friends and I couldn’t believe how subtly misogynistic it was that MTV beeped out the word “tampon.” The emails we had around that conversation were so involved that we started a blog to talk about more things we learned from low culture.
So, just because something isn’t spoonfeeding you critical thoughts doesn’t that you won’t think critically about it. It’s like a story problem in math class versus straight up equations.
In one of my favorite books, the author will all of a sudden be talking in Latin or French and make jokes you wouldn’t follow if you weren’t familiar with Kierkegaard. The ideas in the book can be explained to a child, but the author is writing for philosophers, so he doesn’t do this–and so his idea is not available for 99% of the world.
John D. Caputo, Thomas J. Watson Professor of Religion Emeritus at Syracuse University, David R. Cook Professor of Philosophy Emeritus at Villanova University and all around fancy smart person, if you’re out there, can you please make this book into a list on Thought Catalog so everyone can talk about it?
We don’t like lists because it is a more modern way to present information. It is not the way things have always been done. This is a poor argument.
I remember the first time I read a legal brief or a philosophy text or something else that was dense and intimidating–I wanted to quit. I thought someone was going to come in and tap me on the shoulder and tell me I had to leave because this is something everyone understands but me. But it got easier.
Unpopular opinion: dense reading takes a lot of practice and trial and error to become okay at. I don’t think people know that and I think they pick up something really great like, The Brothers Karamozov, and get discouraged and quit.
I think all reading is beneficial. Read Penthouse letters. Who cares? Maybe you’ll read Danielle Steel next. And then Henry Miller. We all walked before we ran, and walk again because–let’s be realistic–running would be an exhausting way to get around constantly.
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SnobSuper-recomendable!
Ayer os traía el vídeo del unboxing de este juego, un juego que simplemente con 55 cartas nos divierta tanto es complicado, pero no imposible, y por dicho motivo, quiero enseñar a todo el mundo como jugar a este juego, ya que seguro que cuando vean lo sencillo que es y que sirve para cualquier grupo de amigos les apasionará y querrán probarlo.
En el vídeo explico la mecánica del juego (la cual es muy rápida y sencilla) y luego los 5 minijuegos, que como bien pone en el reglamento, se podrán jugar una vez a cada uno, o repetir siempre el que más guste en el grupo, eso ya depende de vuestro grupo. Después del vídeo os voy a poner la forma de puntuar las rondas a los diferentes minijuegos por si queréis llevar una puntuación según las normas.
Sistema de Puntuación:
Este sistema de puntuación es el oficial.
Puedes comprar Dobble
Whether you enjoy the grape or the hop, it is clear that beer and wine come from two different but similar worlds. Though nowadays, the world of craft beer and the world of wine are growing in similarities. So to see where these two liquids of the gods stand in relation to each other, Ruby Media Corporation designed the following infographic of beer and wine facts.
I fucked a sandwich bag filled with vaseline between my mattress and my bed frame.
I had sex with one of my moms decorative bird houses when I was 13 :(
I just saw a hole I knew I could put my dick in and then to just go for it. It was awful and I wouldn’t recommend it.
My first vibrator was a Tickle Me Cookie Monster. It was a great vibe, but unfortunately every time I pressed the button to make it wiggle, it yelled, “HAHAHA OH BOY OH BOY, OH BOY OH BOY.”
My parents had to have known.
When I was 14 I had just gotten my first cell phone (one of those small candy bar style Nokias) I got really horny and played with the vibration setting.
I had a cheap, blue, landline phone in my room next to my bed. One night I placed my cell phone in a ziplock Baggie, inserted it as far as I could into my pussy, then dialed my cell from my home phone a few times.
Pretty sweet DIY Vibrator at the time
Listening to other people have sex gets me off. (Neighbors have thin walls) At my bestfriends house one time, we were all really drunk and I went upstairs to pass out in her bed. Bout 30 minutes later she and her boyfriend come upstairs undressing eachother and making out til she remembered I was “passed out” upon seeing me in her bed. After much quiet whispering and coaxing, her boyfriend fucked her right next to me with my back to them. Bed bouncing, moans and her knee in the small of my back.. Best masturbation session ever…
I had a fwb that was really into the sub/Dom thing with me being the Dom to the point that she referred to me as “master” when others weren’t around. We worked together at a large company and we would go in early some days to start it off “right” when no one was around. She used to make pancakes and take them to work and one morning I decided I wanted her to have a protein pancake. We were in my office, she was blowing me and told her to get her breakfast out. She knew right away what I had planned and she smiled , “seriously?” Yes. Get them out now slut. “Yes master”. Got close to cumming and then unloaded between her pancakes – not a euphemism btw. She wanted to eat them right away but I made her wait till other staff were around.
She ate them with a smile on her face. Some of the coworkers remarking that she was really enjoying them.
I had upstairs neighbours who were awesome. Two 20-something guys, nice and clean cut, but I slept below their bedroom, and I heard what went on. One of them was like a machine. I used to lay awake in awe of this dude. A constant rhythm, perfect sync, and I could tell he was hitting it deep for a good 30 minutes nonstop.
I fapped a couple of times. Not in a gay way. But gay or straight, if you heard this guy and his deep-pound-method, it’d amaze you like it amazed me.
Eventually, I realised that I slept below their kitchen, not their bedroom. And that I had fapped to the laundry on spin-cycle. And that they were probably just two straight guys sharing an appartment.
I once stole a Squiggle Wiggle Writer Pen from my best friend’s little brother (he was like 5) because it vibrated and I knew it would get me off.
This girl who used to live down the street from me used to give me handjobs on the school bus after school. She’d always bring a little blanket with her, and she’d just sit there jacking me off on the way home.
I think it was Hurricane Floyd – I was home from school and I just remember it raining like hell and being very windy… so for whatever reason I just wanted to go out into that storm and get into that shit. So I’m riding my bike around the neighborhood in this crazy storm and roaming around my family’s property (we had a good amount of land), enjoying the wilds, just really out in the elements… After awhile I decided it’d be best to go into the woods and roam around naked. So for some reason the rain and wind pelting against my body was considerably arousing and I just decided to jerk off into that intense fucking hurricane – and so I did. Best day of my life.
I lost my virginity in the park..broad daylight, right in the open grass.
Cut a hole and fucked an orange… I regret nothing.
I’m a chronic nose bleeder. One day I was browsing my usual fapsites and got a nose bleed, prolly something in the air, no biggie. I went to the bathroom to take care of it. Rolled up some paper and went in to plug my nose. As I was about to wash off my bloodied hands I noticed how slick my fingers got and had an idea. I undressed, jumped in the shower, unplugged my nose and went to town.
When I went on vacation to a beach, there were some really hot college girls with very skimpy tops talking to each other near me. We were all in the ocean and since the water was murky, I decided to drop my trunks and masturbate to them, surrounded by dozens of strangers. Came pretty quick.
When I was 13 I was alone at the community jacuzzi, it was out of the way in the corner. Anyway I noticed the jets felt really good when it hit my penis, so I start jacking off with the jet. A short while later I cum in the community jacuzzi. I probably spent a week worried a girl was going to get pregnant from that. And that’s also where my disgust of public pools come from.
I was about 13 and more horny than ever. I went with my dad to go help him caretake for an old woman’s home while she was in Europe. He found a leak in the kitchen faucet and decided to go to Home Depot to fix it, leaving me there to watch tv. I decided to look around and curiously I went through the ladies drawers where I found multiple bras and underwear. Basically for next 20 minutes I was laying on the bathroom floor covered in an old ladies bras and underwear masturbatjng violently.
when i was very young i discovered masturbation. usually did it in the bathroom, sometimes while bathing. i decided, “hey, my hand feels good. what else can i put my dick in?”.
i attempted to fuck a shampoo bottle. i didn’t bleed, but obviously it hurt, got stuck, and i yanked it out of there. my cock has 2 weird uh…scars? marks? from that incident. like U-shaped ridges.
A week after Halloween, I carved a hole in the back of the Jack’o'Lantern (it was getting soft) and fucked the shit out of it while the wife was at work. After I came I was still horny so I cut a hole in the side and did it again.
My boyfriend and I stayed out with friends very late last night. When we got home we had sex. He finished quickly and passed out. I proceeded to grind on his thigh until I finished. I woke up feeling like I had raped a corpse and saw this post.
One night I jerked it while caressing my sleeping, now exs ass. I confessed to it the day after and she said she didn’t mind and that I could continue to do it if she wasn’t up for sex.
Every once in a while I get lucky and my girlfriend let’s me bang her in the ass. Well, last night I’m fucking the shit (wrong expression I know) out of her pussy and she turns around and says, “You can stick it in my ass if you want” and that made me hornier than I already was, so I pull out of her pussy and start to slip it in her winky when about halfway in I run into an obstruction.
The first thing that pops into my head is man, that’s kinda gross bumping up against a turd with my dick, but then I figured maybe if I just kept banging her I could shove it back in far enough to get the damn thing out of my way.
Well, that was a bad idea because jamming the turd back in caused the gas behind it to back up and just about the time I went in for what probably would have been the thrust that got the turd out of my way, the gas exploded. It shot my dick and the turd out like a rocket. Now, if getting your dick explosively expelled from your chick’s ass and then getting hit in the gut with a flying turd doesn’t make your dick soft, you’re a better man than I am.
Anything that looked like/was the same size and shape of a penis, I tried it out in my vagina. Yup, long candle sticks. Mmhmm, my mom’s (turned off) curling iron. The handle end to the plunger, the toilet paper holder, 10 unsharpened pencils held together with a rubberband, hairbrush handle, handles to shaving razors, travel size shampoos and lotions, the TV remote ( shut up ), some action figues, a medium sized icicle, sunglasses, the handle of the ice cream scooper, and the list goes on.
I let a guy I was dating give me enemas, pull out my tampon and eat me out and peed in his face, his request
I had heard about putting peanut butter on your junk and letting your dog lick it off on a movie (road trip?). Anyways I (age14) decide to go for it and cover my dick in peanut butter. I owned a very fat beagle at the time and showed my new peanut butter covered dick to her in anxious anticipation of what I thought be an awesome time. I did not have a awesome time however as my beagle to one look at my dick and bit into it. I yelped and ran off. I washed my poor dick in the sink and inspected the damage. She had broken the skin on the head of my penis with her canine teeth.
Turned on a Tony Hawk Pro Skater game on the gamecube (or N64[details foggy]), put on a cheat to max grind/stability and then proceeded to grind a circular planter.
This never-ending grind caused the controller to vibrate without end, leading to a never-ending source of pleasure for my depraved and libidinous teenage loins.
I have a sleep walking and talking boyfriend… I discovered he didn’t need to be awake to pleasure me, if I put his fingers against my vagina he’d recognise it and start fingering me. It was a great way to start the day and pass the time seeing as I woke up earlier from him, when he woke up I would be wet and ready to go.
‘ve pretended to be passed out while a guy was touching me. I think most girls would freak out and get upset, but I’d stay there pretending to be asleep because it turned me on. This happened numerous times I’m my 20s. Crazy how many guys went that far…
About a week ago I made my SO get down on the floor and act like my dog. Leashed, barking for me, wagging his dick like a tail, following commands like sit and roll over. Made him lick my pussy like a dog too. Sorry sweetie- don’t get mad I’m sharing!! :)
It was really really really hot. He’s pretty incredible for indulging my fantasies.
Personally, i used to steal my sisters panties, not because i was attracted to her, but because i knew that she had a vagina, and that vagina touched those panties. I would carry them around in my pocket all day, just so i could jack off in to them at random intervals. I would also listen outside her door when her boyfriends were over and jerk it to the noises i heard.
Fucked my high school girlfriend on her couch in the living room while watching her mother and sister wash the dinner dishes through the kitchen window.
Waited until they were almost finished, came inside her, then joined them at the dining room table for coffee and mom’s chocolate chip cookies, while my still-hot cum was dripping out of her daughter’s pussy into her undies.
When I was young (around 13-15) I would put cat treats all over my boobs while I was masturbating. My cat came and licked them off, and I would close my eyes and pretend it was a guy.
I was shocked when I had my first kiss and his tongue wasn’t rough.
I fucked a jar of peanut butter when I was 13. Just gunna throw it out there. It’s messy and it felt good except… I used chunky and it cut my dick and I got an infection from it. Had to tell my parents. It was embarrassing… ya…
TL;DR Don’t use chunky
I’m a girl. I once anal fisted myself. Felt damn good.
I was 13 and had just discovered myself. My parents and I were on a road trip and they had the music up and were talking. I figured I could slip a hand down the pants and play some hand ball with the old one eyed snake. I got away with it but to this day I still shutter shudder. To make it worse my parents were listening to christian music.
You know those polished wooden stands for holding rolls of toilet paper? Yeah, I went there. Satisfied me and my (bi)curiosity.
When I was younger, I went through an anal masturbation phase, I would do it nearly every single day, and I love trying out different objects. I also have jets in my pool, so I decided to grab a condom and place it carefully over my asshole, stretched it open, and had my asshole get fucked by a watery cock-dildo thing. The condom broke and my asshole was leaking for the rest of the day…
My cousin walked in on a friend of ours, who was pelvic thrusting a hole in the cushion of a recliner chair. We grilled him for months about this. Every argument ended with reference to him fucking a chair. Months later, our friend walks in on my cousin fucking the same hole in the same cushion of the same recliner chair. Tables were turned.
sometimes I put a banana peel in the microwave for 20sec, then proceed to jerk off with it.
My girlfriend and I had a game of truth or dare and rather than tell her that I had slept with her brother I took the dare. She dared me to do a bukkake session with the entire baseball team at our high school, which I did. I had so much cum on me that even after 2 showers I still found cum stuck to my hair and in my nose and ears…
Needless to say, I’ve never done it again, mostly because cleaning up afterwards is a pain in the ass…
In high school, I would get a banana, cut both ends, squeeze the banana out of the skin, and wrap the skin in tape so it wouldn’t fall apart. Best homemade sex toy ever.
Was doing a job in someone’s house. They weren’t home so I took one of the milf ladies open-toe shoes into the bathroom. Proceeded to bust a nut all up in them. Wiped them when I finished. Would see her wearing the same shoes a different day and got really fucking turned on by that. Would bust nuts in those same pair of shoes whenever I was working there and she wasn’t wearing them. She also had a wash basket of worn pantyhose etc waiting to be washed. Lets say I used to like working there.
I had sex with my girlfriend on the couch next to her parents when we were watching a movie…just a little blanket to cover us…ya I was one horny motherfucker
It turns me on if someone walks in on me having sex. My ex-girlfriend hated it and, my roommate loved it. I always “forgot” to lock the door and “forgot” that he was coming home after couple of minutes.
One time we were at her house and she asked me to lock the door, I didn’t do that and her mom walked in on us and I got so excited that I came in her mouth while her mother watched.
Feeling particularly horny one day, I posted an ad on Craigslist. So at the time, I, a 19 year old, 5’0, 105lb girl, working at a financial services firm, got one that was interesting. I had the guy come over to the office, while no on was there, and bent over my desk for him. He was about 2x my age and was a rather large guy. He put a condom on and fucked my ass and then blew a load on my face. This was maybe the 5th time I’ve done anal sex and his penis was the size of a coke can. I was extremely sore, he just cleaned up and then left. Never exchanged names or anything like that.
Let’s see. Once I let my grandma’s yellow lab lick my asshole as I jerked off.
When I was a skinnier as a teen, I could put enough of my dick in my ass that I could hold it there. Once, after having it up there for awhile, I pulled it out and there was a big lump of shit on the tip. I jerked off with it.
On an 8 hour drive, I edged for 4 hours in the car. I got so horny that I used backpage on my phone to find an escort on the way back while I was still driving. Her meth abuse was worse than her pictures would imply. I still licked her asshole before I fucked it.
After many hours of plowing, my then gf got dry. I wanted that last nut, so we used cooking oil as lube. Her vag smelled like french fries the next night, though I didn’t have the heart to tell her.
was 14 at the time, doing track after school (I sucked at it, but it was something to do). At some point I went to use the bathroom during practice and on the bathroom stall’s wall was a very crudely carved naked woman. Now, this was during the time of the internet, but pre-smartphones, so while I had access to internet porn (via limewire, i was a n00b, i know) I did not have access while away from home.
Anywho, for multiple days after this discovery I would excuse myself, walk halfway across the school and use that exact stall purely to get my rocks off, then slowly saunter back to practice. Weeks after I had started doing that, the janitors finally caught wind of it and scraped it all to hell. Nothing left of my vagina away from home but some scuffing, twas a sad day.
I stayed the night at my best friend’s house one night in middle school. Her parents were always out of town on the weekends so we got away with a lot. One night she was showing me her mom’s lingerie, and we giggled and thought it was so dirty. But, then she showed me her mom’s bullet vibrator. I had never used one so I was instantly intrigued. We had some friends come by, and a couple beers later I felt great and decided to sneak in her mom’s room and get it.. I then locked myself in the bathroom and masturbated with it. I felt pretty gross afterward.
The other night me and the gf get piss drunk and initiate the fuck session. We are particularly depraved and have done numerous morally questionable things involving our genitalia, this night was not unlike those previous perverted nights. So we are going at it and I start alternating between fucking her vagina and asshole. Back and forth. Then after a long while of doing that I throat fuck her until she vomits all over my cock. She then jumps on top of my puke covered cock and starts riding me like mad. As I cum inside her she starts making out with me while puke is still on her mouth. My throat starts to burn from her stomach acid. True story. Orgasm was 10/10.
when i was young and stupid i was swimming in the ocean and there were those jellyfish that supposedly dont sting you. i dont know what logic (or lack thereof) took me at the time but i decided to thrust my junk into it and i will never forget the pain. i ran out of the ocean and wailing in agony. I crumpled into the fetal position on the sand holding my crotch and cried for about 10 minutes. turns out they do sting, it just the skin on your body is thicker so they dont penetrate far enough to reach any nerves. the skin on your junk however…..
yeah i learned an important lesson that day.
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Who gives a shit?
After the unfettered free market showed with extraordinary clarity that nobody gave a shit about the crappy Atlas Shrugged movies, its producers are on Kickstarter to finance the third installment. Per Filmdrunk’s Vince Mancini:
According to Ayn Rand’s most fervant fanboys – Shruggalos, as I like to call them – Atlas Shrugged, her 1139-page anti-collectivist screed about what would happen if society’s movers and shakers decided not to work (shrugged, if you will) remains as relevant today as it was when it was published during the days of Mao and Khrushchev in 1957.
When Shruggalos John Aglialoro and Harmon Kaslow couldn’t get socialist Hollywood to follow through with making an Atlas Shrugged movie, they produced it themselves, releasing it on tax day in 2011, when it earned $4.6 million on a $20 million budget. A second installment made $3.3 million in 2012, and now the producers are on Kickstarter raising money for a third installment, Atlas Shrugged: Who is John Galt?, with a video featuring celebrity Shruggalos Dennis Miller, Sean Hannity, John Stossel, Penn Jillette, Glenn Beck, and that one fat guy with no forehead. WHO’S LOOKING FOR HANDOUTS NOW, PAULTARDS?!?
At least, that’s what they want the story to be. They’re basically financing the $10 million movie themselves again, but they’re using the $250,000 Kickstarter campaign as a publicity stunt, since no one paid attention to their crappy movies the last two times. A canny strategy?
OK, first, I’m totally stealing “Shruggalos.” Second, it seems unlikely that this “publicity stunt” (riiiiiiiiiight) is going to get anyone out to see the end of a preposterous oligarchic fantasy trilogy to which nobody saw the first two installments. There’s no getting around it, Atlas shat the bed. These are self-described Objectivists—elite Objectivists, even—begging for money because their business failed - being, what’s that word they love to throw at the disadvantaged? PARASITIC. Just like their maven herself. Financially, however, it appears to be working.
Here’s the only Ayn Rand film adaptation that anyone ever needs to bother with.
Boris Vian sufrió durante toda su vida de una severa dolencia cardiaca y consideraba que bucear era bueno para su corazón.
Sin embargo, el 23 de junio de 1959 Boris Vian muere de un ataque al corazón mientras asiste de incógnito al pase de la adaptación a la pantalla de su novela Escupiré sobre vuestra tumba. Por la mañana había estado nadando en la Piscina Molitor como solía hacer cada día. Hervé Bourhis y Christian Cailleaux narran los últimos momentos de este creador polifacético, sumergiéndose en las profundidades de su vida más allá de sus pasiones, sus amores y sus alegrías. Una vida por la que desfilan personajes secundarios como Jacques Prevert, Yehudi Menuhin, Raymond Queneau, Jean-Paul Sartre, Juliette Greco o Simone de Beauvoir.
Sexador de pollos. Solo el nombre induce a la hilaridad. Este trabajo ha sido objeto de toda clase de chistes, protagonista de gags cinematográficos, e incluso suele aparecer en las listas de los peores trabajos a los que te puedes dedicar. Sin embargo, ser sexador de pollos es un trabajo mucho más importante de lo que creemos. Y llevarlo a cabo requiere cierta magia que incluso los científicos están tratando de descifrar.
Todo empieza con lo siguiente: a nivel económico e industrial, los pollos son completamente inútiles: no ponen huevos, su carne es correosa y, además, molestan continuamente a las gallinas, que son las que ponen los huevos. El problema, pues, está claro.
Sin embargo, detectar a los pollos de las gallinas no es nada fácil, lo cual complica tremendamente el problema inicial. Hasta que los pollos no tienen de 4 a 6 semanas de edad, es imposible distinguir a los machos de las hembras. Solo entonces empiezan a desarrollar un plumaje distintivo y características sexuales secundarias como la cresta.
Por lo tanto, los avicultores siempre han tenido que criar con la misma entrega a pollos de ambos sexos, a pesar del gasto en el que incurrían, no fueran a deshacerse del sexo útil.
El mundo de los pollos era así de complicado hasta la década de 1920, cuando veterinarios japoneses advirtieron que justo en el interior del trasero del pollo se encuentran unos pliegues, marcas, manchas y bultos que pueden informar acerca del sexo del pollo. No obstante, estas señales resultan tan indescifrables para los legos como un test de Roschart para fines no psicológicos. Los traseros de los pollos son como pinturas de Pollock. Arte abstracto. Una constelación caótica.
Con todo, a raíz de este descubrimiento, presentado en el Congreso Mundial de Avicultura de Ottawa de 1927, surgió una nueva profesión de elegidos, de expertos en interpretar los traseros de los pollos: el sexador de pollos profesional, que solo recibía tal nombre después de años de adiestramiento. Con el tiempo, los sexadores de pollos empezaron a ahorrar tanto tiempo, esfuerzo y dinero a las empresas avícolas que su trabajo se convirtió en uno de los más valiosos dentro del ámbito de la agricultura.
Además, para ser sexador de pollos se requería una desreza propia de un neurocirujano y una gran concentración, tal y como explica Joshua Foer en su libro Los desafíos de la memoria:
Los mejores entre los mejores cursaban los dos años de estudios necesarios en la Escuela de Sexadores de Pollos Zen Nippon, cuyo nivel de exigencia era tal que sólo aprobaba entre el 5 % y el 10 % de los alumnos. Sin embargo aquellos que lo conseguían ganaban la nada despreciable cantidad de quinientos dólares al día e iban por el mundo de granja en granja como asesores de primera. Una diáspora de sexadores de pollo japonesa recorriendo el planeta.
El procedimiento para averiguar el sexo del pollo tiene algo de ciencia, pero tal vez más de arte, porque los expertos tampoco saben muy bien cómo logran averiguar los sexos a tal velocidad. Y es que, según algunos cálculos, existe hasta un millar de configuraciones cloacales diferentes que un sexador debe aprender para hacer bien su trabajo.
A tal diversidad, debe añadirse la creciente velocidad que se requiere en el diagnóstico: en la década de 1960, por ejemplo, una granja media podía pagar a sus sexadores un penique por cada pollo sexado correctamente, y descontaba 35 centavos por cada equivocación. Los mejores sexadores, pues, han aprendido a determinar el sexo de 1.200 pollos por hora, con un grado de aciertos del 98-99 %. En Japón, algunos sexadores superexpertos son capaces de determinar el sexo de 1.700 pollos a la hora.
A grandes rasgos, se lleva a cabo de este modo:
El ave se sostiene con la mano izquierda y se aprieta suavemente para que evacúe los intestinos (demasiada fuerza y los intestinos se volverán del revés, con lo que el ave morirá y su sexo será irrelevante). Con el pulgar y el índice el sexador le da la vuelta al ave y aparta un pequeño faldón del recto para dejar al descubierto la cloaca, la diminuta porción final del intestino en la que desembocan los conductos genitales y urinarios, y mirar en profanidad. Para hacerlo debidamente han de tener las uñas cortadas con precisión. En los casos sencillos (aquellos que el sexador puede explicar) el experto busca una protuberancia apenas perceptible llamada eminencia, más o menos del tamaño de la cabeza de un alfiler. Si la protuberancia es convexa, el ave es macho y va a parar la izquierda; si es cóncava o planas, es hembra y acaba en una rampa situada a la derecha. (…) Sin embargo en aproximadamente el 80 % de los pollos la protuberancia no es obvia y no hay otro rasgo distintivo al que pueda apelar el sexador.
Esta misteriosa destreza, en apariencia de chiste (nada menos que ir mirando y toqueteando rectos de pollos a velocidad endiablada), no sólo es importante para la economía de la industria avícola, no sólo tiene algo de arte porque los sexadores expertos “saben” el sexo del pollo sin ser muy conscientes de la razón, sino que, además, sexar pollos es un tema tan fascinante que filósofos docentes y psicólogos cognitivos han firmado tesis al respecto. Tenedlo en cuenta la próxima vez que os riáis de un chiste protagonizado por un sexador de pollos.
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La noticia ¿Por qué el trabajo de sexador de pollos es mucho más importante de lo que se cree? fue publicada originalmente en Xatakaciencia por Sergio Parra.
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The Muppet cast of Sesame Street joined Jimmy Fallon and The Roots last night to perform the Sesame Street theme song on classroom instruments, complete with a Sesame-themed rap from Black Thought. It's hard to tell whether The Roots are making Sesame Street cooler or the other way around, but it's a beautiful melding of late night comedy and children's television.
0 CommentsSnobOs ateos non se afeitan.
Do you believe in God, or do you believe that there is no God*? Just how sure are you? Depending on your answer, you may be an atheist or a theist along the spectrum of surety with agnosticism on one end and gnosticism on the other.
(*Now, someone explain to me whether Zen Buddhists believe in God.)
Confused? You're not alone, but thanks to Pablo Stanley (previously on Neatorama), we now have a handy dandy guide to know what the hell you are:
POLL: So, which quadrant do you belong to?
You heard about it, felt superior to and mildly disgusted by it but then, after a very slight nudge of peer pressure (and 3 pints of Narraganset), you downloaded it. I mean, it’s morbidly intriguing. And free. For christ sake, Tinder is as close as straight singles have ever gotten to Grindr. Finally, we can get a taste of the geo-located action.
As soon as that location pin starts blinking, you’re strapped into Tinder’s emotional rollercoaster. A little bit of butterflies and just as much misery—very quickly, a pattern presents itself.
These emotions boil down to six stages in Tinder’s cycle of emotions. And like any good rabbit hole, it’s the inquisitive mind that starts the descent into the void:
Once Tinder’s done installing, your long-dormant lust for easy, location-based hook-ups shoots through your fingertips, opening the little app like it’s a gift-wrapped cat meowing on Christmas morning.
Affronted with the faces of other people, you start to question the anonymity (and actual safety) of this thing. Rightfully so. The internet is creepy. But after “Nope”-ing a few meatheads without instantaneously being murdered, that well-conditioned hesitation fades away. Curiosity has a habit of suspending healthy disbelief.
Who’s in the next picture?, it whispers.
You’ll never know until you reject (or accept) this one.
Thumb Game: Reasonably wary
You trip the Power switch in your brain the very instant you bestow trust in Tinder’s veil of anonymity. Your long hampered judgment runs rampant, unrestrained by public decorum or fear of starting a bar fight. With so little to lose, you swipe too fast to really judge much, you just feel like you find better.
There’s a girl in your picture? NOPE. You’re wearing a blue striped Midtown Button-down? NOPE. Your picture takes more than 1 second to load? NOPE. By the time you reach the guy with an upside down arrow shaved into his bare (bear?) chest, you know must be the single hottest Tinder-er within your chosen search distance, if not everywhere.
Thumb Game: To the left, to the left, to the le..ah, wait he was kinda cute!
While you’re furiously swiping, your brain keeps cranking out the curiosity, making connections, impressions about what this app and all of its users are about. All of its fellow users.
Woah.
Suddenly you remember: these are your potential bedfellows. And your ego abruptly deflates.
Your judgment starts to reflect off those little profile pictures back onto you, bouncing your insecurities onto you. Your swipes slow to a labored crawl. Even the cute ones lose their luster, tainted with preemptive disapproval. Every “Like” granted comes with a weighty anticipation.
“Why didn’t we match?! He NOPE’d me. I know it! I’m pathetic, he can tell. What does my tagline even say? Oh god…”
A muted existential panic crawls up your spine.
Thumb Game: Stalled
A visceral revulsion runs down your arm as that Groucho Marx quote rings in your head.
No, no, no I WILL NOT BE PART OF THIS CLUB.
Originally self-directed, a pervasive despair spreads from dating-related to universal in just a few jumps in logic:
a. If this slambook is the last way to meet people, I’m gonna die alone.
b. If this is how our generation meets people, what is the future of serious relationships?
c. How will we procreate without serious relationships?
d. Why should we create more people on this fucked planet that people totally fucked.
e. Fuck.
“ENOUGH” your hand screams and drops the phone.
Thumb game: OVER IT
Some hours (minutes?) pass. You’ve refreshed Instagram/Twitter/Facebook enough times to erase the aforementioned anguish from your pint-sized memory.
Oh shit! In your brief absence, the matches you’ve already forgotten have started reaching out.
“Hey there”
The headshot speaks! And piques your interest.
Sometimes this promise lasts past the initial message. Either the match’s sheer hotness, their witty take on your cryptic tagline or, in the best cases, a little bit of both, spark a conversation.
Sometimes the momentum of witty repartee crescendos, never stalling out on the “what do you do?”, “where do you live?”, “how did you get into copywriting?” etc.
*cue number exchange*
“Not trying to be too forward, but this app sucks”.
Fewer times, an IRL encounter occurs. If you hit it off and date happily-ever-after congrats, you just beat Tinder. For everyone else, somewhere along the line, something unsavory happens. Apparently no real love/lust connection was made. Promise shattered.
Thumb Game: Typing instead of swiping
Most of the time, the conversation just gets stale and both parties move on to the next disposable 1-D approximation of an actual human being. But there are much more inflammatory ways to reach your Tinder breaking point.
It could happen when the cute guy spontaneously stops responding to your failed one-liners. It could happen when the 37th “Hey there” just doesn’t get you as giddy as it once had. Or it could happen when you click that blinking blue bubble and your latest match’s first message reads:
“CAN I SMELL IT?”
Regardless of how you come to it, your mind, heart and sexual organs make the decision that you just aren’t going there. But you need to transfer all that unused sexual energy somewhere.
Thumb Game: Hey, who’s the new guy?
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SnobSUCH A GREAT BOYFRIEND. :_)
Holitas cerdiamores.
Resulta que yo tenía un novi forradisísimuuusss pero tacañotacaño no, tacaño enfurecido aka “no quiero celebrar aniversarios, ni cumples, ni nada porque el amor se demuestra cualquier día”. Y claro, cualquier día era NUNCA, bueno no, se solía presentar con rosas arrancadas de jardines públicos, pochas y con insectos.
Una vez me regaló una sello con una frase de autoayuda “HERE YOU ARE, NEXT TO ME, MAKING ME HAPPY” pero sin la tinta (???????).
El plato fuerte fue unas navidades que me regaló un juego de cucharillas de postre con tartitas en el extremo diciendo: “como te gusta hacer tartas” de plástico duro,de las baratas de los chinorris, sí, de esas.
Y la guinda la puso en mi cumpleaños, cuando tras pasarse toda la noche diciendo “ya verás como te va a gustar lo que te tengo en casa” llego y me encuentro sobre la cama una JODIDA BARRA DE LOMO y una notita donde ponía “vale por una operación de aumento de tetas, firma permanencia que no las disfrute otro” y yo con toda mi peda, miré la barra de lomo, le miré a él y le dije: FUERA.
Imaginad mi tono y mi cara porque se piró. Yo continuo con mis tetes peritas de San Juan y poniéndome fina a lomo ibérico.
Moraleja: Cuando ves una barra de lomo y te seduce más que su rabo, esa relación se ha acabado. ^^
SnobUn programa sobre INTERNET con JOAQUÍN REYES! Joder, La 2 de TvE, pero como se puede ser TAN EDGY!
