Category Archives: Porn

Miss Edith speaks out of turn. She’s a bad example and will have no cakes today.

Time for some weird, wild, and wonderful news from the world. There’s a LOT of weirdness going on around this big ol’ planet. First I found one article, then another, then ANOTHER, and well! How could I just let THAT pass? I could not. No no no.

I promised Ken I would not talk about The Goat Man of Utah because:

So keep an eye on Ken’s blog (which you should be doing anyway, because it is consistently awesome) because he has promised to talk to us about The Goat Man of Utah at some point, and listen, it is going to be the BEST. Because Ken is OF THE GOATS.

(I was totally going to surprise Ken with this but then I decided I couldn’t because that photo up there is CRACKING MY SHIT UP. S0 I totally just tweeted it to him. I probably shouldn’t be any sort of secret-keeper. I try REALLY HARD to keep secrets but sometimes I just get SO EFFING EXCITED about things. Ken says that instead of telling all of YOU I should be telling KLOUT because I consistently forget to go over to Klout and give him sarcastic +Ks about his goaty influence. So the minute he told me to do that, I went to Klout and not ONLY gave him +Ks in goats, I gave him a whole NEW topic, because Klout is super-weird about things? And the topic was “Hey, Pa! There’s a goat on the roof! [Game].” What does it MEAN? This is a GAME? It seems like it might be a pretty easy game to win. Like, if there’s a goat on the roof, and you see it, you’re the winner, right? WINNER! Oh, shit. I just looked this game up and it’s a REAL THING. From the 60s! A Parker Brothers game! Where the goal was to get your goat to the roof!

I WANT THIS MORE THAN ANYTHING IN THE WHOLE WORLD.

Oh, man, 60s. You were not only filled with psychedelic drugs and love children, you were filled with WHIMSICAL BOARD GAMES.)

OK, let’s see. Today in news of the weird (both from MERKA and also China!) we have a cat burglar of PORN, another burglar (this one of MAN-MEAT), VAMPIRES VAMPIRES VAMPIRES!, and how sorely sex education seems to be needed in China.

Let’s see. We’ll start with the porn-burglar.

So, in Oregon, a man was breaking into houses. He wasn’t stealing anything! No no no. He was breaking in to do something much more important: to watch porn in other people’s homes.

SO much more fun in other’s homes. While they’re sleeping about a foot away. Right? Right? Wait, NOT right? Ugh, I AM CONFUSED ABOUT THE RULES.

He had internet at home. And apparently also porn. But it was just SUPER-EXCITING to break into someone else’s home and…um…pleasure himself on someone ELSE’S computer.

He got caught because a kid woke up in the middle of the night and was all, “Dad? What? No? WHAT ARE YOU WATCHING? WHY ARE YOUR PANTS OFF?” Yep, he was jackin’ it in a room with a kid sleeping in it. Winner!

Then they matched his…um…fingernail clippings? Yeah, let’s go with that…to fingernail clippings found in two OTHER houses and realized he was the Salami Smuggler. I don’t love that. Someone help me think of a good moniker for this guy. I mean, other than Pervy Pete. That one’s taken, obviously. I haven’t talked about him much lately, but don’t worry. Pervy Pete’s still here. You can’t get rid of Pervy Pete without a LOT of antibiotics.

So! In Oregon, apparently it’s a THING to break into people’s HOMES to watch porn on their computers. I like that there are three people in the world who can say “I never visited that site! THAT’S NOT MINE!” and NOT BE LIARS.

Next! Stolen organs – no, not kidneys, you thought it was kidneys, didn’t you? Not kidneys.

PENISES!

Well, just one penis. But I’m sure it meant a lot to the person who it was stolen from.

Mr. Fei Lin, a man in China, was sleeping like a baby one night when a group of unknown nefarious ne’er-do-wells broke into his home. They put a bag over his head, and in his highly agitated state, he was not aware of what was happening. They left, and he took the bag off his head. And realized: DUDE MY PENIS IS GONE. Only, he was in China, so he thought it in Chinese, obviously. I bet screaming sounds the same in Chinese and English. It’s like the universal language. Like LOVE.

Apparently, Mr. Lin was a local lothario, and had ALL THE SEX with ALL THE LADIES. The spurned lovahhhhhs of the ladies that Lin took out a’steppin’ are suspected of being the gang of penis-removers. No one can prove it, though, and NO ONE CAN FIND THE PENIS DUN DUN DUNNNNN. Aw, Mr. Lin. I’d tell you to keep it in your pants, but you’d have to find it first, now wouldn’t you? I’m sorry. That was super-mean and he was the victim of a horrible crime, even if he was kind of a dog. I couldn’t help myself IT WAS TOO GOOD. I’m not a saint, here, people.

Give us the monster! Or…the guy that’s been boning our lay-deez!

So! Porn porn porn housebreaking porn, and STOLEN PENIS!, and now – VAMPIRES!

You know how we’re all freaked out about the zombies? I think probably that’s a good way for the vampires to sneak in, when no one’s even thinking of them, and then TAKE OVER.

In Massachusetts, a random lady was at a playground. She had something in her hand. “What’s that in your hand?” the local kiddos asked her. (Ew, no, this isn’t going in a weird gross place like that, don’t worry.) She was all, “it is a baby bat! Want to hold it?” and most of the kids were like, “Um, STRANGER DANGER! STRANGER DANGER!” but not one little girly, who was like, “I want to hold the cute baby bat!” and the lady was like, “YES YES” and then the girl held the bat and the bat bit her, well, DUH, and the girl’s mom brought the girl and the bat to the hospital and SURPRISE, that bat had RABIES.

Sure, they LOOK cute, until they INFECT YOU WITH RABIES. Or maybe vampirism.

No one can find the bat-lady.

That’s because she’s a VAMPIRE, of course. Getting her pet bats to bite people and give them the rabies. Or the vampirism. No, of COURSE the article isn’t saying vampirism. The article isn’t just going to SAY something like that. I do like this quote from the article: “The woman told the children she had a degree in bat biology, according to the Daily Mail. She has not yet been identified.” Does that NOT sound like something that a VAMPIRE would say? “A degree in bat biology.” Strangely specific! Oddly stilted! YES YES YES!

Am I the only one who imagined the person hanging out in the playground to look a lot like this?

Do you like daisies? I plant them, but they always die. Everything I put in the ground withers and dies.

So sure they cured that girl of her “rabies.” SURE THEY DID. Listen, I watch a lot of True Blood and Vampire Diaries and Buffy and Angel and such. I know about the vampires. I know. There’s no cure for vampirism. Well, staking. Staking cures vampirism. Do you think they staked that girl?

Finally: China! Where they are quite confused by what’s real and what’s a sexual enhancement aid!

Twice recently (once last month, once this month) China’s made some sort of weird huge snafu concerning a sex toy. It’s kind of concerning. I feel like maybe they need to take a class.

First: last month, when digging for a well, these villagers found this thing. And they were all, what is this thing? We do not know. We will call the news! So they called the news, and the news sent over this very young, very sweet reporter, who did a HUGE report on what she THOUGHT was a magical, mystical, underground mushroom, that had only been rumored, and there was a legend it granted immortality.

Then people started watching the program and were all, “Um…lady? That’s a sex toy.”

(That link’s all in Chinese, but there are subtitles. And also not the most safe for work. But as I’m unemployed, what the hell do I care? There’s a mushroom/sex toy in it, is all I’m saying. It just made me laugh because EVERYONE TOUCHES THAT THING. And who knows where it’s been? Also, side note, who threw their sex toy down a well? Hee! I AM DONE WITH YOU NOW, FLESHLIGHT! DOWN THE WELL WITH YOU! I WISH YOU INTO THE CORNFIELD!)

You’re a bad sex toy! A very bad sex toy!

It’s like the people who used to look at Georgia O’Keefe’s artwork and say, “vaginas? What? No. THOSE ARE FLOWERS.”

What a pretty flower! What do you MEAN it’s not a flower? OF COURSE IT IS DUH.

Then, just a few days ago, 18 cops in China worked together to save a drowning woman for over an hour. A huge crowd gathered. Everyone was very worried about this poor lady. Would she be ok? An hour in the water, that was a long time! And they finally got her out! A huge sigh of relief went up throughout the crowd!

And it was a sex doll all along.

The sex doll doesn’t seem to have taken well to the watersports. Heh.

The cops “presented it to the anxious crowd, who quickly covered their children’s eyes and walked away.” Hee! NO NO JOHNNY DON’T LOOK. A drowned lady, that would have been ok, but a DIRTY DIRTY SEX DOLL! That’s not ok.

So I see this problem having two prongs, so to speak:

A. People in China need to be more educated about what sex toys and aids look like, and how to recognize them versus either the real thing or a magical mystical legendary dual-headed mushroom;

and

B. People in China need to learn to dispose of their used sexual toys and aids in a less public and more sanitary manner. In the garbage? OK. In a well or in a river? NOT OK CHINA.

So! What have we learned today, ladies and gentlemen and everyone else that might or might not be skulking here and there reading my blog or just hanging out here for the photos of wet sex dolls? Don’t break into homes to jack it; don’t sleep with the lady-friends of angry men in your town; don’t handle wild animals, even if Drusilla from Buffy tells you it’s ok; and don’t throw your sex toys away all willy-nilly. THINK OF THE CHILDREN. Also cops and small-town villagers and innocent-looking news reporters.

Dammit, now I want something with mushrooms in it. Yum, mushrooms.

Oh, want. WANT.


This is not the Wild Kingdom Marlin Perkins had in mind at ALL.

You all love the sex posts, don’t you even deny it. FINE, I love your faces, today’s sex-news day. Are you all so excited right now? Thought so.

These people are not paying enough attention. PAY MORE ATTENTION PLEASE.

Did you know if you do a search for “sex news” almost every single article is about sex offenders and then if you do a search for “weird sex news” you want to bleach your eyeballs? Just looking out for you all. As I do.

OK, so today, we have penguins, using Craig’s List inappropriately, things that are better than sex, and porn-headaches. I know! We’re really quite busy, we’d better dive right in. Wear your floaties, though, I don’t think you want to get your face in this water. Gack.

Aw, shark floaties. I love these. I would totally use these now, and I’m a grownup person who can’t swim.

OK, first: things that are better than sex. Whoa, nelly, calm down, I can hear you all now. NOTHING IS BETTER THAN SEX NOTHING. Well, apparently you’ve never had gelato while actually IN Rome, or really, really bad sex, but I digress.

…sigh. WANT.

According to this article, the new it thing is to put out a survey saying that things are better than sex. Cell phones. Bacon. A night of good sleep.

…and again. WANT.

However, what’s tricky is that the people putting out the surveys WORK for the bacon, cell phone, and mattress companies. OOH! That is a total misuse of science. AND sex. BAD studies. BAD.

However, I just have to say, sometimes? I’d rather have some delicious bacon than sex. Bacon is DELICIOUS, you guys. There’s very little in the world I love more than a perfectly crisp piece of bacon, except for maybe MULTIPLE pieces of perfectly crisp bacon.

As for my cell phone, well, if it was a one-time thing, sure, I’ll take the sex. But if I was told, hey, you can have EITHER all this sex, OR your cell phone, one or the other, FOR EVER AND FOR ALWAYS, I would choose my cell phone. What would I do without my cell phone? I can live without the sex. I am CURRENTLY living without the sex. It’s totally doable. It’s not like you shrivel up and die. I mean, it’s not OPTIMAL, but it’s doable. However, living without a cell phone would be bad bad news. How would I repeatedly check all my social networks? How would I get my email in a timely fashion? It’s not like I can carry around my laptop everywhere I go. There’s not wifi in all the places. There’s cellphone service almost everywhere. Except where my parents live. And listen, when I go to visit them for more than a couple of days, that is VERY DIFFICULT. There’s no internet except for dialup. There’s no cellphone service. It’s like someone shut off my brain. I have to do things like TALK TO PEOPLE and READ BOOKS and THINK QUIET THOUGHTS. It’s kind of like living in an abyss. It’s worrisome.

ARGH! I’m getting twitchy just thinking about it.

And a good night’s sleep? I can’t think of too many things I wouldn’t give up for a good night’s sleep. Oh, how I want one of those. I haven’t had one of those since I was probably 13. I’ve had some nights that were better than others, but a good night’s sleep? I don’t even know if I know what one of those is anymore, it’s been so long. Oh, how I want one of those.

So, even if the science and the sex are all nefarious, I think there’s something to it. You might THINK there’s nothing better than good sex, but if you think about it rationally, there are a lot of things that are more important. A lot of them. However, if the good sex wants to come over and visit sometime, I wouldn’t send it packing.

Next: this is not what Craig’s List is for. Or maybe it is. But, either way, ew.

In Mesa, Arizona (Mesa is next to Phoenix. Guess who lives in Phoenix? No, guess. NO GUESS. BFF does! BFF, did you know about this ickiness?) three people were arrested for – ready for this? – “conspiracy to commit bestiality.” CONSPIRACY! A CONSPIRACY!

Mesa! Next to BFF! And filled with CONSPIRACY!

There was a couple, and their “friend,” and they put an ad on Craig’s List that said “Wife looking for K9.” Apparently, the woman wanted to have sex with a dog, while her husband and lover watched. Well! That’s…um…disgusting.

An undercover cop answered their ad and was all tricky and said, “I HAVE A GOLDEN RETRIEVER” and they were like “AWESOME” and set up a meeting in a super-classy hotel and then instead of Fido the Love Puppy showing up, it was the po-po. Uh-oh.

Oh, my, no. Just, no.

Here are some awesome quotes from this article. Whoever wrote this had WAY too much fun.

What a bunch of animals.

The wild kingdom sex-session never went down.

Maricopa County Sheriff Joe Arpaio called the three “a different breed, that’s for certain.”

Sickos trolling Craiglist to find animals to bed has been a problem in Maricopa.

Dear BFF who also happens to live in Maricopa County: please make sure your dog is safely locked inside your house at night. I don’t like the sound of this at all, and I like your dog a great deal. Ew, not LIKE like. Like, like a NORMAL person likes a dog. Gross. I live in ALBANY County. We don’t screw the pooch here. That I’m aware of.

Next: a hidden danger of porn. HIDDEN DANGERRRRR!

In India, a man was watching porn (as you do) and started getting SEVERE HEADACHES. This has been going on for two years. But, instead of – well, doing the one thing that would stop the headaches – NOT WATCHING PORN – he’s been bouncing from doctor to doctor trying to figure out how to make the ouchy stop. Because, well, porn, yo.

Ouch ouch my head is pounding so much I can’t even hear the thrusting and moaning.

But we’re jumping ahead. Our Bachelor #1 “experiences ‘severe, exploding’ headaches that develop gradually and peak about 10 minutes into a sex scene.” Heh. Exploding. Develop gradually. Peak.

The headaches were so bad the patient actually debated stopping watching porn. I know. I KNOW. Such sadface.

To avoid forgoing porn altogether, the man was advised by neurologists to take the equivalent of about 30 painkillers a half hour before turning on a video, the study says.

Researchers found that oddly, sex or masturbation didn’t trigger the headaches – just the porn.

I think maybe in India, way too much time is being spent on Lonely Boy Porn Headache McGee, don’t you?

So, what’s going on with our sad little friend who just wants to watch some moneyshots? Any guesses?

Nah, don’t worry, the doctors in India are pretty lost, too.

They suggested it could be from changes in the pain-sensing nerves in the face and jaw, which become more sensitive in a heightened emotional state, MyHealthNewsDaily reported.

Huh. So if we’re aroused, our facial nerves get all sensitive? I guess. That seems suspect. My guess? It’s GOD. God JUDGING him. For watching EVIL EVIL PORN.

Or maybe he’s making it up so he can talk to strangers about porn, masturbation, and sex, who knows.

Finally: shocking penguin sex that is SHOCKING.

In 1910, George Murray Levick went to the South Pole on an expedition. While there, he got to study Adélie Penguins.

Ha! This one is starting a wild rumpus, I think.

Some of the activities of the penguins totally shocked the good doctor. He was SO SHOCKED at how TOTALLY DEPRAVED the little penguins are, he took notes on those activities in Greek, and then when he got home, he tried to publish it, but the people of the time were all SHOCK FACE SHOCK FACE NO NO NO and only printed up 100 copies and handed them out all on-the-sly-like to a specific group of scientists. Recently, one of the scandalous publications came to light. Ready? Ready for it?

The happy little Adélie Penguins are TOTALLY NECROPHILIACS.

Say WHAT?

See, dead frozen penguins would be lying on the ground, and they’d be in a similar position to live penguins waiting for some hubba-hubba lovin’, and so the boy-penguins would have sex with either live or dead penguins. They were not choosy. Because apparently they couldn’t tell the difference. My guess is, all the penguins are so cold up there! How would you even KNOW, am I right?

There were other things, too. Totally MORE scandalous things.

“It’s just full of accounts of sexual coercion, sexual and physical abuse of chicks, non-procreative sex, and finishes with an account of what he considers homosexual behaviour, and it was fascinating.”

Whoa, penguins! You were TOO SHOCKING FOR THE TIMES, what with your necrophilia and sneaky fuckery and child abuse and sex FOR FUN!!! and – AND! – ZOMG, gay penguin sex!

This penguin is STYLISH. Look at his little afro! That’s pretty scandalous.

I like to imagine all the serious science-types being all “oh NO! What’s this? My stars!” with their monocles and whatnot. Heh. Good job, penguins.

There you go, tigerlilies. All the sex for you. Is there anything better for you on a Monday than all the sex? I mean, Mondays are the suck, but with all the sex, they’re a little better, right? Totally are.

Happy all-the-sex Monday to you all! And if you can’t have all the sex, have some bacon or take a nap. Those are good, too.


I’m a lover, not a fighter, and I’m really built for speed

*This is totally an all-over-the-place cussing post. I don’t think anyone cares, honestly? Other than me? But, you know, think of the children. But in case I have one person who’s reading this that DOES care? SO MUCH THE CUSSING. Sorry in advance. Also all the sex. But IT IS ALL IN THE NAME OF SCIENCE! AWESOME SEXY SCIENCE. So, sorry. Also, YOU ARE WELCOME.*

See those horns in the background there? Sneaky fuckers, all.

I am constantly in awe of the people I am lucky enough to know through social media.

Say what you will – that they’re (ahem, DAD) not “real,” that (thanks, MOM) it’s “sad” and I should “get a life,” I have met some of the funniest, most intelligent, most genuinely awesome people through Twitter that you could ever hope to meet.

And this time, they’ve outdone themselves.

The other day, I blogged about Dr. Jaroslav Flegr and how our cats are attempting to kill us, or perhaps control our brains, with poo-borne parasites. Andreas – who, listen, is my sciency friend? I don’t know that I’ve ever had a sciency friend. I LOVE HAVING A SCIENCY FRIEND, you guys. I’ve always loved science, and having someone who can say, “hey, there’s totally science backing up that insane hairbrained theory you just posited” makes me so happy, I can’t even tell you – posted this in my comments on the post:

‘Feline fatal attraction’ is a good one but it’s not the best. My favourite scientific term is the ‘Sneaky fucker strategy’, aka kleptogamy. It probably is rather self-explanatory but here goes: In species where males aim to gather a harem of females to mate with, there are two male strategies for successful mating.

The first one is to be as big and strong as possible in order to fight off the competition and win access to the females. This is however both costly and risky. You might spend more energy than you can replace, or you might get seriously injured.

The second strategy is to be a Sneaky fucker. This consists of avoiding any direct conflicts with the alpha males, and keep to the periphery of the harem of females. Then, when the leading male is busy fighting off any competing males, the Sneaky fucker male can sneak in and – well – fuck. And as long as he’s out of the way by the time the alpha male is back, he doesn’t risk getting into a fight.

It’s a brilliant strategy, and this is probably why it’s a very common strategy. So beware of the Sneaky fuckers.

This was a., not a theory I’d ever heard of before, and b., SO TOTALLY AWESOME I CAN’T EVEN.

Then, THEN, Ken commented on Andreas’s comment thusly:

This sneaky fucker business is seriously good enough to merit its own blogpost. Actually, I’d like to see each of you (Amy, Jim, and Andreas) do something with this. Maybe we should declare sneaky fucker week and all write blogposts and make a festival of it.

It’s a movement, and as Harry Shearer says, ‘Everybody needs one.’ A movement, he means.

(If anyone but me pays attention to shit like this, you’ll notice the link to Jim’s blog above is NOT his regular blog, but his other blog, because he apparently has like a million of them. I’ve decided if he’s going to participate, he’ll probably do it on this blog and not his other blog because on this blog he can cuss more. ALSO there’s totally this weird-ass Twitter app going around that you can use that tells you who you’re in love with on Twitter and it said I’m in love with Jim. SORRY MRS. JIM. I do love Jim but I assure you it’s just platonic. I am not a sneaky fucker. I am not attempting to sneaky Twitter-fuck Jim. I don’t have a lot of morals and such but one of the few I DO have involves not having sex with someone who’s involved with someone else. I TOTALLY HAVE A NEW IMAGINARY BOYFRIEND THOUGH BTW. I will talk about him later in the week. IT IS TOTES EXCITING YO. NO, it’s not Jim. Sorry, Jim. Sorry, Twitter app. You’re welcome, Mrs. Jim.)

SO. Anyway. I was so excited about this that I said, audibly, in my car, “I could not love my Twitter people more right now if I tried.” Then I laughed until I had a coughing fit. You know. As you do.

So, Andreas is in (and has promised either moose porn or erotica), and Jim is in but isn’t sure WHAT he’s in so I’m not sure what kind of post we’re going to get from him. Ken’s in and is blogging about John Hughes films and I could NOT be more excited about that. And then Lisa wanted in and listen, LISTEN, if she wants in? To anything, ever, anytime? SHE’S IN. I don’t care WHAT it is. Like, I’d let her into family reunions if she was interested. Or possibly even closed-door theater board meetings. I’ll totally kick your ass twice if you argue with me on this. Then, THEN, Laura wanted in (I assume her real name is Laura. Twitter says so. And Twitter NEVER LIES) and as we totally want to dominate the internet in the field of Sneaky Fuckery, and also, who are we to turn down people interested in such a topic? we said yes. I mean, we’re not dictators. We want internet scientific theories about animal porn to be free for all, you know? And THEN Lisa wanted in (ANOTHER Lisa, don’t be confused, my little tiger lilies) and I love her face. HOP ON BOARD LISA.

If you’re counting, that’s seven people. ALSO, there are not many Google results for Sneaky Fucker Strategy. Just from the one comment, my blog’s already on page two when you do a Google search. We’re totally going to own the internet when it comes to Sneaky Fuckery, you guys. I’m pretty sure this will be a new category at the Bloggies next year, and we’re shoo-ins. Who wouldn’t want a Sneaky Fucker Bloggie? What would the award look like? I’m going to go ahead and assume animals screwing. But in bronze or something. I WANT THAT.

So:

WELCOME TO SNEAKY FUCKER WEEK. It’s like Shark Week, only with less teeth and chomping and swimming and more sneaky fuckers and animal porn and chicanery.

Andreas told me I should be the lead engine leaving the sneaky fucker station. I’m down with that. I like to lead. I also like to be last. I don’t like to be in the middle. Because then people always are stepping on the backs of your shoes and shoving and making stupid comments, and that all just makes me stabby.

OK. Even though Andreas gave us an excellent breakdown of Sneaky Fucker Strategy, I went online to check it out.

It’s really a thing (not that I doubted Andreas in the least.) And his breakdown? Excellent. You don’t really need to read any others. What he says above is actually totally 100% what it is. The other information I found out about it:

  • It’s attributed to one of the world’s greatest evolutionary biologists, John Maynard Smith. Smith also did a lot of work on signalling theory. Which I just spend a really long time reading about and it is FASCINATING and I’m totally blogging about this someday. DAMMIT ANDREAS. My brain is not meant for science. I get distracted by shiny things, and there are SO MANY SHINY THINGS in science. (PS, my brain is also not meant for researching pretty much anything, because this weekend I was trying to research a musical and ended up reading a thirty-page article about these serial killers that was just absolutely fascinating and when I looked at the clock it was 1:15am. I get distracted. I’m like a kitten with a new toy, seriously.)
  • Sneaky fuckers are actually doing better in spreading their seed (ew) than their more aggressive brethren: according to this article, “The less dominant male (deer) were in fact far more successful in evolutionary terms, passing their genes onto a larger number of female deer.”
  • This, of course, as most behaviors in the animals kingdom can be, has been extrapolated onto the human population. The “alpha males” are, just for the sake of argument, the “frat boys.” The “sneaky fuckers” are the sensitive types – the ones that the “frat boys” usually think are gay. They hang out with the girls. They can talk about the shows girls want to watch; they can listen to girl problems; they’re there when the girl needs a shoulder to cry on. They’re also there, apparently, when the girl breaks up with the alpha male – to sneak-fuck. And there you have it: we’re all just animals, after all.
  • There’s not a Wikipedia. This worries me, because there totally should be. There’s a Wikipedia for EVERYTHING. Even Justin Bieber, who I’m pretty sure isn’t even a real person but a robot. You can tell because his lips are too red and moist. That’s always a sign.

Now, there was mention of sneaky fucking in elk and deer populati0ns, and ducks, and also there was this awesome paragraph here, which I think is the best and Disney should totally make a movie about it:

Let’s look at two mating strategies among certain male frogs, for example. The males are selected by the females based on their song (presumably, the bigger the song, the bigger the frog, therefore the better its prospects as a mate) but some males have adopted a strategy that is different from “get big and sing loud.” These “sneaky fuckers” home in on a loud-singing male frog and lurk nearby. As the beglamoured female comes hopping along for a tryst with the Barry White of Bullfrogs, the “sneaky fucker” hops on, mates with her quickly, and hops off – mission accomplished. Because both strategies are successful, we see both strategies continuing in force because now most frogs descend either from big singers or sneaky fuckers, and females that like big singers.

The "just finish up and get the hell OFF OF ME" look in bottom-frog's eyes made my YEAR, seriously.

So we have elk and deer and frogs that are all sneaky fuckers. AWESOME.

The point of sneaky fucking, from an evolutionary standpoint, is, of course, to vary the genepool. You don’t want ALL big, strong, alpha-male genes in the pool. The pool needs to be varied. You need lovers AND fighters. (And the sneaky fuckers tend to be the more intelligent animals – because they can plot the sneaky-fucking, which takes more brain cells than the fighty-fighting, I guess.) So, you introduce a few sneaky fuckers, and all is well. And apparently it’s VERY well, because that study above indicates that a lot of the kiddos in the deer population are cuckoos in their daddy’s nests, if you know what I’m saying.

So! Where does this take us?

We were discussing on Twitter how some of us have dated sneaky fuckers. Here’s the thing. I’ve totally dated SNEAKY fuckers, but I’ve never dated a sneaky FUCKER. The difference being: a SNEAKY fucker is the guy who’s all “no, baby, I totally don’t have a girlfriend!” and then you find out he does; or “you’re amazing, you’re the best thing that’s even happened to me, my whole life has changed since meeting you” and then you never hear from them again; or “yeah, I tried cocaine once, but it wasn’t for me” and you start hearing from people he’s dealing and he’s his own best customer. A sneaky FUCKER is the one who’s hanging out, willing to be your best friend, but always eyeing you a little too avidly, always with the “you’re so amazing, WHY do you let him treat you that way, you’re too GOOD for that” and some girls totally dig on that because it’s attention and they like that and then when they find themselves alone he makes his planned-out move and I guess they’re weak enough to be “eh, whatever, a warm body’s a warm body.”

I hate both of these types of people.

Obviously, I hate the first type of asshole, because you’re a liar and a time-waster and a user and a prick and if I ever come across you again, you can be damn sure you’re not going to leave that meeting unscathed, you human piece of shit.

The second type, I hate just as much. I think the second type of man is weak and pathetic and waiting for a woman, in a moment of weakness, to throw them a bone and be all, “I just need someone to hold me” and he can be like “I’m HERE for you, I’ve always BEEN here” and that makes me want to stick a fork in my eye. I would rather, honestly, be sneaky fucked by a liar than someone who is a dishrag just waiting for me to be pathetic enough to need someone to scratch my back against like a bear with a tree in the woods.

Psst: I’ll never be that pathetic. Keep on waitin’, sneaky fucker. Hope you brought a magazine or something.

Oh, girl. I FEEL YOUR PAIN. I'm here. I'M HERE FOR YOU GIRL. Whatever you need. I AM DEEP LIKE A WELL OF DEEP EMOTIONAL DEEPNESS.

I knew a sneaky fucker in college. Let’s call him Tom. Because that is almost his name and I’m pretty sure he’s not reading this because I haven’t spoken to him since 1994. Tom and I met because we were in a play together. Tom was not in the play because he liked theater. Tom was in the play because he heard there were a lot of gay men in theater, therefore, him being a straight man, he would have a good chance at getting laid. Tom was a nice enough guy, but he was sad and kind of pathetic and spent way too much time in the computer lab looking at porn in the middle of the night. He decided I was going to eventually stop falling for “bad guys” (anyone who wasn’t him was bad) and realize he was “the one.” So I’d leave the computer lab and there would be Tom! I’d leave the dining hall and there would be Tom! And he’d always be all, “If you ever need to talk, I’m here. If you ever need a shoulder, I’m here.” And he didn’t know me very well, because I NEVER need a shoulder and I very seldom need to talk, at least not to people I’m not that close with. Also, he could NOT maintain eye contact. Tom was all about having conversations with my tits. It was totally repulsive. I’M UP HERE TOM.

Eventually I started seeing him and quickly walking the other way because every conversation was “Are you seeing anyone? We should have lunch. We should hang out. Are you happy with him? I hope so. You deserve to be happy. If he isn’t making you happy, you deserve better. If you ever need to talk about it, you know how to find me.” ZOMG TOM LAY OFF.

Yeah, I totally am the wrong kind of prey for the sneaky fucker, seriously. Because I see sneaky fuckers as equal parts weaselly and pathetic? And there’s nothing that gives me the opposite of a lady-boner than a combination of those two things, let me tell you. Ick.

Additionally, the alpha male doesn’t do it for me, much, either. I think if I was an elk and you had the fighty elk in one corner, and you had the skeevy sneaky fucker elk waiting to hump me like a Dachshund getting amorous with a table leg in the other corner, I’d make a beeline for the aloof quiet staying out of all of it elk who was minding his own damn business and maybe reading whatever the elk-equivalent of a book is, or whatever. Because sneaky-fucking? Not hot. But bashing in each other’s brains for some nookie, equally not hot. TAKE NOTICE MEN.

Also, can we just quickly discuss what the flipside of this would be, sexually? (I assure you this isn’t going where you think it is.) I mean, gender-role-wise. In nature, obviously, there’s no need for that, because it’s all about procreation, and the women aren’t fighting over the men, I don’t think. (Or are they? I bet Andreas would know if there were species, other than humans, where the females all cage-match it out for male attention.) But in the human race, there are TOTALLY female sneaky fuckers. Waiting for the guy to break up with his girl, or whatever, and hanging out all one of the guys but not REALLY all one of the guys, just in order to be with the guy she has her sights set on in case he notices her in “that way” and decides he wants to trip the light fandango when his girlfriend’s out of town at college orientation WHAT I TOTALLY MADE THAT SHIT UP THAT IS JUST A TOTALLY HYPOTHETICAL SCENARIO AND DID NOT AT ALL HAPPEN TO ME. That skank ho Bonnie. Moving on. So, as humans, aren’t we evolutionarily advanced? We have BOTH female and male sneaky fuckers! But! Ladies! Word to the wise? The guy isn’t going to, suddenly, all When-Harry-Met-Sally-style the morning after realize you’re the one that he wants, ooh, ooh, ooh, honey, the one that he wants. I mean, again, TOTALLY HYPOTHETICAL SCENARIO, but you might have spent MONTHS being sneaky fucker and then one night FINALLY, and the next morning, guess what? It’s like his damn PANTS are on fire to get out of your place, and the next day you totally get the “listen, that was a mistake, you’re a great girl, I like you so much as a friend, but that’s it, I got back together with Cyndi with an i today” email. Even though you TOTALLY wore your nicest underthings. THE LACY ONES. THAT MATCHED. What? I said it was hypothetical. Sheesh. Also, put away your judgey face, I was barely in my twenties. Oh. Shit. I mean, if it had happened, the person it would have HAPPENED to would have been barely twenty-one. Ha. Ha ha.

As Andreas has already informed us that his post is going to be all about moose porn, or maybe moose erotica, it was debatable, I feel like I have let you all down because this post has most DEFINITELY not been about moose porn. I mean, I could try to throw in some moose porn. But it would feel forced. You shouldn’t force moose porn. That’s the worst kind of moose porn. It should be ORGANIC.

So, in summation: science is just about my favorite thing in the world. Because it brings me such things as Sneaky Fucker Strategy. And my Twitter people? The most awesome. Because, Sneaky Fucker WEEK. Which I will keep you apprised of; I’m pretty sure they’ll be more entertaining than I was. OH! And I bet you, other bloggers reading this, want in. YOU CAN JOIN US. This is totally open to all people who want to be part of the sneaky fuckery! Just let me know you sneaky-fucker-blogged and I’ll tell the world. THE WORLD.

Sneaky Fucker Strategy. Andreas! YOU WIN INTERNET.

OUR SNEAKY FUCKER BLOGROLL OF SNEAKY FUCKERISM

Lisa at Random Thoughts of a Plum pre-blogged about her plans for Sneaky Fucker week here and then blogged here. Children’s-book-style! Disney-fied! It’s Sneaky Fudger Week for Lisa!

Lisa at The Best Self-Help T-Shirt Catalog Ever! (SO MANY LISAS)’s post: How to Protect Your Eggs from Kleptogamists. It is sexy because it talks about fish gonads. EXTRA-LARGE FISH GONADS.

Andreas’s post at Heinakroon.comThe art of kleptogamy. It is the hottest moose erotica you’ll ever read, seriously. I mean, if you ever read any OTHER moose erotica, or HAVE read any other moose erotica.

Here we have Ken’s take: Duckie Dale, an 80s sneaky fucker if there ever was one. (An aside, if I may – and who’s going to stop me, it’s my damn blog. Did anyone ever see the episode of Just Shoot Me with Slow Donnie where he was all, “My dog smiles with his tail!” This post made me so happy I would have smiled with my tail, had I a tail. I LOVE THIS SO MUCH.)

And a guest post ON MY OWN BLOG HUZZAH: Mr. Anonymous gives us his own tales of Sneaky Fuckerism in college. Not for the faint of heart, or for those who have children going off to college in the near future. Or for people who don’t like awesome things.

And! Patrick, who we totally didn’t even EXPECT to join us in the sneaky fucker festivities! Huzzah! His post on his hatred of sneaky fuckers and how they trick you with free doughnuts here.

And one from Ms. Darkstar, about a fucker so sneaky he didn’t even KNOW he was a sneaky fucker!

A sneaky fucker so-far-under-the-wire-that-the-wire-is-no-longer-in-existence-huzzah! post from Elaine4Queen! Starring Handflapper!  With awards and meerkats! And here’s Handflapper’s response!


Normal people don’t sit at home and look at porn on the internet.

I'll be the one rocking and crying in the corner over here, okay, thanks. Ugh.

OK, this post is totally NSFW. Well, it’s Saturday, so probably you’re not AT work. Unless you’re me. Or my coworkers. Then you’re totally at work. And you’re miserable, because your job sucks and the callers are mean and also the thingamobobbers in the chairs that lift them up to a reasonable height aren’t working so you’re sitting like two inches above the floor and you have to reach UP to get to the keyboard, so you feel like maybe you’re in hell.

But anyway. Yeah, I’m not kidding about the NSFW-y-ness of this post. It’s porny, you guys. TOTALLY PORNY. Yet I’m fairly sure I finished it with the minimum of cusses. Do you know why? Because I’m as talented as I am lovely. SHUT UP I AM. So anyway! Yes. If you are of a delicate constitution, or if you don’t like perviness, or for whatever reason you’re all “no no not today my good sir” then you can come back tomorrow. What am I blogging about tomorrow? I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet. What do I look like, a Magic 8-Ball of blog topics?

One of my most amazing and lovely friends brought a situation to my attention that I think needs to be addressed. She would have liked to address it herself, but she is currently job-hunting, and does not think it would be the best course of action to post about this in such a way that maybe a potential employer could read this and be all, “Hmm. Maybe we will NOT hire her, because of the dirty.”

I have promised to keep her anonymous, and SO I SHALL. Let’s just leave it at, I adore her, she is awesome, and she kicks SO MUCH ASS, you guys, seriously, and my life is infinitely a richer place for having her in it.

ANYWAY, enough of the love for my anonymous friend. I need to give her a top-secret anonymous name. Let’s call her Rose. Because she’s gorgeous, but you don’t want to push her too far. BECAUSE THORNS. (Metaphorical thorns, obviously. She’s not all thorny. She’s not like that guy that grew bark on his arms. DO YOU REMEMBER THAT GUY. Ugh. That grossed me out SO BADLY. What? You have no idea what I’m talking about? THIS GUY. You’re welcome. And ew.) Thorns of WORDS. Barbed, awesome, perfect-for-any-situation words.

Anyway, Rose emailed me and said, hey, Amy, so I was thinking, this needs to be addressed, because it’s obviously a very serious problem. And today I looked into it, and ZOMG you guys. SUCH A PROBLEM.

What’s the problem, Amy? I can hear you asking. Yes, I can totally hear you, I have ears like a damn BAT, I’m telling you.

The problem is: taking nude photos of yourself to send to people online. Or to post online. Or otherwise for online consumption.

Now, before you get all up-in-arms and all “But AMY, it’s a DIGITAL AGE, we’re all DATING ONLINE, how ELSE are we supposed to BE INTIMATE” – just wait a second, slappy, I’m not finished.

For the most part – FOR THE MOST PART – sending nudie pictures of yourself to someone is NOT A GOOD IDEA. Let me reiterate, using smaller words. Do. Not. Send. Nude. Pix. On. Line.

Here is why, in list form for easy consumption:

  1. Most than likely, that relationship isn’t going to last. And you’re going to spend the rest of your life waiting for the other shoe to drop. The other naked, naked shoe. And for your mom to email you all, “Hey, your Aunt Matilda just emailed me this, she saw it on Facebook, is this your cooch? Why does someone have a photo of your cooch?”
  2. Naked photos aren’t that sexy. Sorry. They just aren’t. Being naked WITH someone? Totally sexy. Don’t get me wrong! I love some good alone time. But naked photos? Not really all that sexy. Like, you of course have to SAY they’re sexy. You have to be all, “Wow! That sure is…a large…photographic rendering…of your…swimsuit area! BAD TOUCH!” but mostly you’re thinking, “this would be a lot sexier in person. This is kind of a letdown, all-told.”
  3. What if you become a big famous famous person. You know that person you THOUGHT was worth sending tit-shots to is selling your photos to Extra for like $17.50 because they need that money to buy Ho-Hos. And then, MORE CALLS FROM YOUR MOM. “Honey? I just saw your boobies on Extra! Why does Extra have your boobies on my television set?”
  4. What if you’re emailing that photo and you accidentally send it to the wrong person? There is NO WAY you’re getting out of that one, Perv McPerverson.
  5. If you are in elected office, NEVER SEND NAKED PICTURES. There’s never a good time to do this. Not ever. Not even, like, if someone’s holding your mom hostage and tells you they won’t shoot her in her head if you send them a photo of your wang. DON’T DO IT; IT IS A TRAP.

But let’s say, hey, you’re in a committed relationship. Or, maybe you decide, hey, everyone’s doing it, this guy that I’ve known for like two weeks seems totally trustworthy, WHAT’S THE WORST THAT COULD HAPPEN. (This is not a good idea; please see notes 1-5 above.) Or, barring that, you just totally like to send naked photos of yourself to people. What? You want advice? I WILL GIVE IT TO YOU.

Rose pointed me in the direction of this website. IT IS NOT SAFE FOR WORK. Or children. Or people who like to NOT bleach their eyeballs after looking at the interwebs. Listen, if you click on that link, it’s not going to give you a virus, as it’s just a Tumblr. But if it DID give you a virus, it would be syphilis.

At first, I was just very confused, because she said there was a lot of porn on the site and it was just people wearing Guy Fawkes masks. (SIDE NOTE. Guy Fawkes masks give me the shivers. No, seriously. I think they are the worst. I think they are nightmare material. I think they are horrific. So this website is NOT AT ALL SEXY TO ME. It is FALSE ADVERTISING to call this SexyFawkes.) I couldn’t understand what was sexy about this, as it was just random people standing around in Guy Fawkes masks, and then I went into the archives, because Rose is one of the smartest people I know so I knew she wasn’t a liar, and HOLY HELL, PEOPLE.

I’m totally a prude and WHOA NELLY. ALL THE PORN. In those creeptastic masks. THIS IS AWFUL.

Apparently, from what I can tell, people send in photos of themselves in these masks that I think my death will wear when it comes for me and they can be doing whatever they want, as long as they’re wearing the mask. No, I’m not 100% sure what the point is, either, if there indeed is one. I guess to be famous? On the internets? Things that they have chosen to be doing: standing around aimlessly; showing me their bits; doggie-styling their girlfriend (YOU STOPPED AND TOOK A PHOTO??? I mean, kudos on the multitaskery, but she wasn’t angry you were all “Hey babe, just have to set up the tripod, wait a sec, ‘kay?), and, in what was my most favorite, apparently showing the entire interwebs what your cervix looks like while playing with anal beads. (Per Rose: “Save a little mystery–only your gynecologist should be able to look THAT far inside you.”)

Yes, I’m a little perplexed as to who is sending nude photos of themselves wearing a scary-ass mask to a Tumblr site. But I’m old, maybe it’s what kids today do for kicks, like the 2012 version of Whip-Its or something, what do I know. It seems that the youth of today have much less shame about their bodies. That’s nice! That must be a nice feeling to have, right? I mean, my mom taught me that you keep that shit covered up unless you’re married and making a baby? And yeah, I laughed that one right out of the courtroom early on. (No, there’s no courtroom. It is ALSO a metaphor.) But these kids did that ONE BETTER. They are not only showing it to their potential partners, they’re showing it to EVERYONE. Well, at least they’re wearing a mask, so they’re anonymous, so someday they can get a job at McDonalds or something. Yes, a mask. A MASK THAT WILL HAUNT MY DREAMS. My filthy, dirty dreams.

OK, so if you are Pervy Pete or Ding Dong Joe, you have already abandoned my site and are merrily looking at tits and dicks and that’s nice. But here’s the problem Rose had with the site.

A lot of these purportedly “sexy” photos are NOT SEXY AT ALL. MISTAKES WERE MADE.

Some of the problems:

Location. Rose pointed out some major problems: “Choose a location that doesn’t look like you live with your parents, such as a kitchen that hasn’t been updated since the 70s or a rumpled futon in their basement.”

Another problem – listen, I KNOW the best place for cellphone photos is the bathroom. I know that. Not only does it have the best light, you can see what the photo will look like in the mirror before you click it. I get it. I DO. But you can also frame it so that your shower curtain isn’t visible. OR YOUR TOILET. Come on, seriously? I mean, I’m probably not in a sexy mood anyway with a photo of your shower curtain and that effing MASK but I don’t want to see your porcelain throne, thanks.

Also, if you take a photo of yourself in your bed? I’m not saying you need to spring for the satin sheets, but probably CLEAN sheets. Sheets without unidentifiable GUNK on them. Also, balled-up dirty socks is not really making me want sexy-time.

Oh. OH. If it wasn’t so gross and I didn’t think I would contract crabs I’d show you the photo but if you go back like ten pages or something in the archives (NOT THAT I DID THAT WHO WOULD DO THAT) there is a nudie picture of some guy who I swear is standing in the open doorway of a cheap motel in the broad daylight. WHAT THE HELL. You weren’t afraid people would be walking by? I don’t…what? Who thinks this is a good place to have a photo session?

Posing. Per Rose: “Choose a pose that is flattering to your physique. If you’re a guy, scrunching your body up to maximize your tummy flab isn’t winning the ladies over.”

There were also a lot of ladies attempting the sexy “cat-pose” like crawling toward the camera or whatever and listen, that’s nice, in a music video from 1987, but in real life, you’re just looking silly right now. I don’t want to pour any sugar on you. Just stop it.

Technology. Again, per Rose: “If you’re going to Photoshop your photos, but you don’t know how, enlist an expert. Or we’ll just be laughing at you when your artistic efforts turn out stupid.”

I assume this is referring to the photo I must have stared at for about ten minutes, trying to figure out WHY IS SHE SO SHINY. I couldn’t tell – did she coat herself with baby oil? She looks like she’s made of plastic. Is this girl made of plastic? WHAT IS HAPPENING. And then I thought of Rose’s comment and I was all, “OH CRAP IT’S ON PURPOSE WITH SOFTWARE” and then I laughed and laughed because why is this a thing you would do? I guess you wanted to look like a life-sized Barbie, only grosser and much more skanktastic?

Weird props. Things that confused me: the guy who was naked and erect but draped in Christmas lights. (MERRY CHRISTMAS. Here is my penis. I am wearing a stalker mask. BEST GIFT EVER.) The aforementioned cervical-exam girl (listen, she had more props than just the beads. Also, there was what I think was a vibrator, but it also might have been a rectal thermometer. It did not look sexy; it looked clinical and sterile. Well, once-sterile. Not after what she was doing to it.) The woman who was naked and had Christmas bows over her nipples but not anywhere else (um…maybe you could have spring for some additional wrapping material for your hoo-hoo?)

Random confusing thing. What woman is going to not only give a blow job to someone wearing that horrible mask of grinning fear-related death, but let him PHOTOGRAPH IT FOR A WEBSITE. Unsexy.

So, tips. You want tips. I will give you tips. It is clear you need them.

  1. Don’t send naked photos online.
  2. If you absolutely, positively, MUST send naked photos online, please re-read number one.
  3. FINE. I see you are bound and determined to ignore me.
  4. Take the photo somewhere un-gross. If you must take it in the bathroom, please don’t let it look like you’re taking it in the bathroom. If you’re taking it in your bed, wash your sheets and stow the dirty laundry. If you’re taking it on the carpet and it looks like industrial carpet from a weirdo’s trailer where someone might keep women in cages, well, I can’t help you. Please see #1.
  5. Don’t pose like a dumbass.
  6. Don’t make yourself look like a life-sized blowup doll because it will give me nightmares and also hysterics.
  7. If you must use props, maybe use ones that are appropriate. Tip: Christmas lights aren’t sexy.
  8. If you’re paying so little attention to all the sex you’re having that you can take time out to put on a mask and take photos to send to some Tumblr site, I hope your girlfriend dumps your ass. Before she does this, I hope she takes all of your records and stomps on them with her stompiest shoes. PAY ATTENTION TO THE SEX YOU MORON.
  9. I don’t want to see that far inside anyone except that see-through plastic model of a person that my biology teacher used to have where you could see all the organs and shit. I loved that.
  10. If all else fails, please see #1.

I hope this has been helpful. If not, I hope you have plenty of bleach for your eyeballs. No, not you, Ding Dong Joe. I know this was just your cup of tea. YOU ARE WELCOME. No, you can’t “come over” for a “photo session.” Stop calling me. Who gave you this number?

(Title is OBVIOUSLY from the brilliant song “The Internet is for Porn” from Avenue Q. HERE IS THE VIDEO. You’re WELCOME.)

(Psst, thank you, Rose. You’re the best. And then again just a little bit better than that.)


“Apparently I’ve pleasured the swim team while jacked up on goofballs.”

Hello and happy Saturday! I totally have exciting and important posts in the works that require RESEARCH and HARD WORK but instead today we’re going to talk about sex. I KNOW TOTAL LETDOWN.

So I was playing around online (what? me? never) the other day and then started thinking about Veronica Mars (what, you don’t randomly start thinking of Veronica Mars here and there throughout your day? Shame on you) and then I thought of that purity test episode? “Like a Virgin?” From Season One? Did anyone but me watch Veronica Mars? Probably not, it got cancelled WHOO DOGIES FAST.

OK, so in the episode, people would take this purity test and then a computer hacker was selling the results and it was very embarrassing. Or maybe the results were fabricated. I don’t know. It’s been a while. I really need to rewatch it.

So then I thought, because I have ADD and SHINY, you know what, I think once I tried to take one of those purity tests, but then I kind of got bored because there were a kajillion questions so I quit. And, what was so embarrassing in those tests, I mean, kids are totally having sex when they’re like fetuses nowadays. LET’S TAKE A PURITY TEST.

And I’ll totally post my results online. Because I’m not embarrassed that I’m alternately a total whore and a completely frigid bitch.

So I decided to take this one, because there was a huge devil on the main page, and that seemed legit. Also, it gave me the option of the 1,000 question test or the 200 question test. Listen, I love you all like wildfire but I’m so not taking a 1,000 question ANYTHING, even if it would be a funny blog. I have old episodes of Grey’s Anatomy to cry over, here, I can’t just be effing around online all the hours of the day.

Also, it’s “unisex and omnisexual” which is a little worrisome but all-inclusive so that’s nice.

FIRST PAGE: Platonic Relations.

Really? That seems like a stupid place to start. Probably I’ll win this part.

After I finished that section, I was 98% pure. Hmm. Winning? I’m not sure yet. The questions were stupid and one asked if I ever shared a sleeping bag with someone without boning them. NO. Sleeping bags are HOT. I’m not getting in one of those with ANYONE. I don’t even like to get into them with myself. SO HOT. Also, I’m a restless sleeper, I’d end up strangling myself or the bonee.

SECOND PAGE: Auto-erotica and mono-sexualism.

Um. So masturbation, then? You couldn’t just say that? No? Sorry, sorry, I’m asking too many questions, carry on.

An actual question: “Have you ever bought blatant sexual objects? (This means that if you buy a bottle of Coke and you use it as a dildo, it really doesn’t count. Think: design and function.)” WHAT? COKE IS FOR DRINKING. People are doing this? Ow.

Second confusing actual question: “Have you ever made an X- or R-rated snowman/snowwoman?” Really? That seems like a huge waste of time. Also, it’s cold, and kids could see that, so maybe be less of the neighborhood creeper, thanks.

92% pure. I’m either totally winning or totally losing this, I’m not sure yet.

THIRD PAGE: Legislative misfits and other ethical questions.

Ooh! I am EXCITED ALREADY. I love ethics and the legislature! Although what they have to do with my purity I’m not quite sure. This is a lot more boring and confusing than I’d expected.

Ugh, forget it, they have NOTHING to do with the legislature. They want to know if I’m a whore and/or a thief and/or listen to other people screwing without them knowing it. This test is the suck. I WISH I was listening to someone having sex right now, seriously.

At the end of that I’m 89.5% pure. I kind of said no to everything in that section because it was all weirdo “have you ever stolen condoms from your Dad?” questions. NO THANKS SLAPPY.

FOURTH PAGE: Drugs.

Yay?

Hee, they want to know if I’ve used “Spanish fly.” YES. I am starring in a teen romp!

85.5% pure now. I kind of said yes to almost everything in the drugs section except maybe the Spanish fly thing. SORRY MOM.

FIFTH PAGE: Non-platonic.

How about “non-coma-inducing.” You’d think a purity test would be a little more titillating.

Oh, this one’s all “have you ever done mutual petting” and then leads up to naughtiness. NOW WE’RE GETTING TO IT PURITY TEST.

Also, there’s this: “Have you ever had sex with someone whose name you did not know, or whose face you never saw?” Well, I mean, there are all those Eyes Wide Shut parties I go to, DO YOU MEAN THOSE?

Also, it wants to know if I ever had sex with the Pope? I might have. I mean, you never know who’s behind those masks at the Eyes Wide Shut parties.

Shit, now I’m 73.5% pure. Is this going well? I can’t tell. Would it be going better if I’d said I HAD had sex with the Pope?

SIXTH PAGE: Non-Primary Choice Relations.

I have no effing idea what that even means.

Oh, wait, shit, I didn’t even read the instructions. I was all “THESE ARE THE SAME AS THE LAST PAGE” but I’m supposed to pretend they’re with a GIRL.

Why didn’t they just say “Pretend you’re with someone you don’t want to bump uglies with” at the top or something? This is getting totally difficult and I think might be trying to trick me. I WILL NOT BE FOOLED, PURITY TEST.

I’m still 73.5% pure. Apparently, kissing a girl for like .004 seconds in college didn’t even count for anything. DAMMIT YOU STRINGENT PURITY TEST.

SEVENTH PAGE: Alternate Choices.

That sounds like the school you’d be sent to if all the other schools kicked you out.

ZOMG they want to know if I had sex with a dead horse in this section. That’s certainly a choice. And it’s alternate. I’m going to say no to that one.

Also: “Have you ever practiced role-playing? (nurse-patient, teacher-student, border guard-well endowed co-ed, etc.)” What the hell? “Border guard-well endowed co-ed?” That’s a thing? That seems oddly specific and totally hysterical. I don’t think I could play that without cracking up halfway through. That would ruin the mood, right? Does the well-endowed co-ed crack up halfway through the border guard’s patdown?

I’m now 73% pure. I didn’t get a lot of questions right in that section. The dead horse thing made me totally nervous.

EIGHTH PAGE: Group Sexual Relations.

Can I just tell you right now I will end up with a 73% without even having READ any of the questions? No? FINE. I’m doing this for SCIENCE.

It wants to know if I ever walked in on people having sex – which it calls “committing an OOPS” – then joined in on the “OOPS.” That’s totally rude, what is this, a French film? NO, TEST. NO ONE DOES THAT.

Yep. As I thought. Still 73% pure. I don’t even like ONE person touching me very much, I can’t imagine I’d like MORE than one. Ugh.

NINTH PAGE: Extracurricular Deviant Conduct: Non-Sentient Objects

This is totally going to ask me about that Coke bottle again.

And! First question! COKE BOTTLE. Seriously, stop it. OUCH.

It also wants to know if I’ve ever used a ball gag. Now, listen, I totally have? But it was in a play, and I was the props mistress, and I had to put it on the guy every night? So probably that’s not what they mean. But it still makes me laugh that, YES, technically, I TOTALLY HAVE. Deviant!

72% pure. And 100% bored. This is totally taking my whole life to complete.

TENTH PAGE: Extracurricular Deviant Conduct: Locality

Let me guess. You want to know if I took my Coke bottle outside.

Mostly this wanted to know if I’ve ever done ANYTHING, including “neck” (WHO EVEN SAYS THAT ANYMORE GRANDMA) in places like boats, churches, trucks, snowbanks, and rooftops. I totally won this section.

69% pure. Told you. I used to make out ALL OVER THE PLACE. I totally made out in a church once. And a boat. I know, I was all teens-gone-wild for a while. It was all very Lifetime Movies for Women.

ELEVENTH PAGE: Extracurricular Deviant Conduct: Style

If this asks “Have you ever had sex then done jazz hands” I’m giving myself a gajillion points. That’s STYLE, baby.

Ooh, this is the last section. That’s totally exciting.

OK, this one wants to know if you like people to pee on you. That’s not STYLE. That’s MESSY.

Final answer: 65% pure.

So is that winning? Seriously, in order to get this lower, you have to do some really weird porn-star stuff. I’m not jazzed about that.

There’s a nice list of people on the side-scroll whose scores are presented. Depending on how we score, I am doing either better or worse than “ForeverAlone” who has 93% (aw! babe! You can totally fix that by the second page, that’s so sad!) “DJ Rayray” has 33.6%, which makes me worried about him and he’s totally outside my house building a naughty snowperson AS WE SPEAK, isn’t he, and someone named “NOT BAD FOR A VIRGIN, EH?” got 75.4%. Not bad, Canadian virgin. NOT BAD AT ALL. If by “bad” you mean “whatever these scores mean because I am totally confused and I think I’m totally too old to have taken this test.”

What have we learned, interwebs?

  • Purity tests are kind of the suck;
  • It IS possible to be bored shitless by something sex-related, who knew;
  • If something has the devil on the front page it doesn’t mean it’s going to be interesting;
  • The kids on Veronica Mars were making a big deal out of nothing and I probably need to do a rewatch because it isn’t really clear to me why they were bugshit crazy over this;
  • People seriously need to think about things before they use them for purposes other than what they were designed for (Coke bottles? I’m going to have nightmares about this, I swear)
  • I’m never going to be able to hear the phrase “don’t beat a dead horse” without laughing like a moron EVER AGAIN.

Enjoy your Saturday, my little perverty ruffians! Watch out for naughty snowpeople!


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