My thoughts…on stuff

Boobs. They surround us. They bind us. They hold a near mystical power over us (men). Many women try to enhance this specialized sweat glands through breast augmentation. We’ve had many famous examples of women with big boobs, most notably Pam Anderson. But the woman with THE world’s largest breast implants is model and actress Sheyla Hershey. With a size 34 FFF, she holds the Guinness World Record for largest breasts, sporting 2,000CCs or 2 quarts of silicone in her chest. Here’s the original story.

I love breasts as much as the next guy but daaam! It’s like she has a badonkadonk on her chest. And by her pic, her badonkadonk (booty for you white girls) is pretty much the same size. Score! If you think this is bizarre, you need to see those poor girls with macromasty. I’d show you pictures of them, but those breasts tend to evoke pity more than captivation. I don’t know why a girl like this would need breast implants, ’cause she’s overflowing with that Latin hotness. How many of you guys would hit that like the fist of an angry god? SURVEY SAYS? All of you! I scratched through Spanish in high school, but if I had her as inspiration, I’d pass with flying colours.

Apparently she had a self-esteem problem, and so she inflated her chest. Cause everyone knows that’s the answer to solving self-esteem issues, instead of, I dunno, facing your insecurities head on! She should’ve tried therapy, or blogging. Much cheaper. And here’s an interesting thing. She says she was inspired by…none other than Dolly Parton. (Looks like Dolly’s boobs have an impact on women as well.) Still I won’t judge her much. I’m not taking the moral high ground here. It’s just ’cause she’s hot. I hope she got a spinal brace along with those things, ’cause the back pin must be terrible. I wonder what would happen if a guy tried to bury his head in her bosom? He’s probably suffocate, or find the lost land of Oz. Whatever.

I’ve always admired the Japanese, first for their anime, which, for the most part, remains surprisingly original. Secondly for their originality and weirdness, which I can totally relate with. But this, this is just too much. Japan is making a robot cat named Doraemon their anime ambassador. (Hmm. I’ve seen Doraemon ever since I was a kid but I never knew his name.)

This has to be the most useless government post since, well, any other government post, so I guess it fits. I don’t think anime and manga need much promotion, as they’ve become pretty damn popular, especially due to DBZ, the Gundam saga and other wildly popular animes. And even if the Japanese need to promote anime, they don’t need to create a government post for it.

Then again, the Japanese are a jovial people. Hard to believe these guys invented seppuku and were the bad guys in World War II. And apparently this was done already, as Astro Boy was named ambassador for international safety last November. Funny. I would’ve picked a Gundam. Sure Astro Boy’s legendary, but no one would want to mess with a giant robot with a giant phallic cannon. Using pop culture in diplomacy. What a novel idea. What if America did the same? Thank God they can’t be hated much more than they already are.

You’ve just got that tattoo. You’re feeling cool. You’ve spent hours deciding which design you want and which area of your body will give it max visibility. You rush to show your friends, or if you’re the subtle kind, wear your most revealing set of clothes so they’ll pick it up. Now this happens. Apparently another asstard has pushed the envelope and gotten a tattoo…ON HIS EYE! Your tat doesn’t seem so cool now does it? Pauly Unstoppable (that’s really his name. Check the article) was the brave soul that underwent this procedure. Still, there’s a thin line between bravery and foolhardiness. And surprisingly, he’s a Canadian. I’d expect this crap from an American.

The design isn’t that impressive. The guy just coloured his eye blue, so in terms of appearance, the average tat pwns it. It took FORTY insertions to get it right. Ouch. I’m pretty sure they used anaesthesia though. And the funny thing is, the procedure isn’t 100% safe despite being “extensively researched”. He could go blind. Bet he’ll try to sue if he does. But despite the risks, I know there are retards that will perform the same procedure. Think this is surprising? There’s also eye jewellery. Aww geez. I’m normally anti-tattoo, but if this procedure catches on, I dunno, I may be crazy enough to try it. What design you may ask? MANGEKYOU SHARINGAN!

Hey guys. As you know, tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day, a day where men give their significant others processed cocoa bean products and rose vaginas just to show they care. But why not do something special for her this year? Why not break away from the mold and really turn her on? Why not…do the chores? You heard me. Wash the plates, rake the yard, clean the toilet, real sexy stuff. And wipe that stunned look off your face. 15% of moms say that’s their idea of foreplay, according to Parents Magazine. Single men, we may breathe a sign of relief and collectively point and laugh at all married men. It may sound silly, but apparently doing chores for women shows a deeper appreciation for them and their efforts, and they view this as romantic.

But don’t run for the broom just yet, as women also dislike the idea of men using housework to get in their jeans. So damned if you do and damned if you don’t. This could be an insidious plot by women to bait men into doing chores for some nookie, ’cause let’s face it, even if she genuinely intended to give you some lovin’, after cleaning the whole house from top to bottom, you won’t be of much use in bed anyway. But there isn’t much need to worry. That survey still leaves 85% who are turned on by good ol’ fashioned foreplay. But if any of you men decide to give “choreplay” a shot, just remember. Do it once in a while, mostly on special occasions. Do it regularly and you might as well hand over your testicles, because it’s your job now. Don’t complain if she starts bitchslapping you for backtalk. As for me, the only time housework and foreplay should collide is when my woman’s dressed like a French maid. Besides, I rather just stuff a box o’ chocolates and some champagne in her arms and call it a day.

Old hawtness: female breast implants. New hawtness: Male breast implants. Don’t check your calendar. This isn’t April 1st. Turns out men are getting breast implants now (as if regular manboobs weren’t bad enough). Full story here. But the reason for getting these is not nearly as sick as you’d think, thank God. Men are getting these implants because they want the square, chiseled pecs of Leonidas or Vin Diesel without the effort. Because nothing says manliness like laziness and lack of determination. Nice to see that men are getting implants for the same reason as women. See ladies. Beneath all the machismo, we suffer from self-esteem issues too.

In the biggest shocker of the year, most of the men who perform this procedure are gay. I view these men as sad creatures. I was never in complete support of breast implants for ladies, as I like my women all natural, no additives, no preservatives. I’m even less in support of the procedure for men. I can at least understand women’s desire for it, as their breasts are made of fat, and thus harder to enhance naturally. Our on the other hand, ours are made of muscle. I consider these men as weak, and not only physically. Plain and simple. Be a man and pump some iron for those pecs. Don’t go under the knife and parade those $1,600 implants as if you worked for them. Still, our culture of physical perfection and instant gratification created this. People, looks like we’ll actually start pointing at guys’ chests and ask “are those real?”    

Hey parents! Wanna have a family vacation in a magical land set in the 16th century, where you and your loved ones spend 12 fun-filled hours being kidnapped, chained, piled onto a ship, sold like cattle, psychologically tortured and made to work mercilessly? Revel in the guilt and shame of your ancestors! What? No takers? Well that’s exactly what a Colorado couple wants to do. They want to recreate the experience of slavery, in Haiti of all places. Read all the details here.

The place won’t be named Slaveland, but it might as well be. Instead, it will be named Memory Village. The idea isn’t bad enough, but they want to put the theme park in the middle of the world’s most hostile and underdeveloped countries. Yeah. This’ll end well.  

Perhaps nobody told them, but the only slavery people want to be subjected to involves a lot more leather and a hot chick with a bad attitude. It’s great that they want to commemorate the 200th anniversary of the Haitian slavery rebellion, but building a theme park that punishes the patrons (even worse than usual), has to be the worst business idea ever. This is gonna be a big waste of $700,000, I can tell you. I don’t know about you, but I don’t see Disneyland losing business any time soon. Next up, Nazi World! 

If you’re like me, and you’re tired of being engulfed with ads from corporations trying to persuade you to buy their overpriced crap and trying to make you feel bad if you don’t spend the holidays at the mall, looking at your wallet and seeing more space than the folks at NASA, and scratching your head trying to find a single Nativity Scene, then you’ll love this story. A Mr. Art Conrad of Bremerton, Washington crucified a Santa Claus in front of his home in order to protest the commercialization of the holiday.

“Santa has been perverted from who he started out to be,” Conrad said. “Now he’s the person being used by corporations to get us to buy more stuff.” He also used the crucified Santa on his Christmas cards, complete with the message “Santa died for your MasterCard.” While I applaud Mr. Conrad’s effort, I believe he should’ve protested the perversion of Christmas, not the perversion of Santa. Fine. I admit there are a lot of pagan elements in the holiday, such as the Christmas tree and mistletoe, but it is still “Christ’s Mass,” not “Santa’s Mass.” Still, it’s good to see a bit of common sense prevailing amidst the mad rush to fill corporate coffers.

Hello there folks. It’s offbeat news time, meaning it’s time for some WTF?! This post will throw you for a loop. Turns out that the young people, in their never-ending quest to destroy their bright futures, have invented a brand new drug. But as you know, young people don’t have much money, besides allowance and change from lunch, so obviously this drug isn’t as expensive or as glamourous as coke or ecstasy. In fact, it’s free, and manufacturing it doesn’t require a knowledge of chemistry. The ingredients can be found in the nearest toilet. Yeah. This drug is da shit. Literally.

Jenkem, also called Butthash, Waste, Fruit from Crack Pipe, and my favourite, Leroy Jenkems, is a homemade drug created by fermenting faeces and urine in a bottle from a couple days to a couple hours, normally with a balloon attached to the top to collect the gas. The gas is then inhaled, giving the user a euphoric high. Users say they feel “out of it” and are even able to commune with the dead. But before you try it (dear God, please tell me I’m wrong), just be prepared to deal with your mouth tasting like a sewer for a couple days afterward. Just when I thought I couldn’t lose any more faith in humanity. Where are those Columbine guys when you need them? I know you wouldn’t believe me, so see for yourself.

Jenkem isn’t really new. It originated in Africa, where they would sniff their accumulated waste to escape the grinding poverty they endured. Now it’s being taken up by bratty Western kids with too much time on their hands. Hooray for globalization! This is a rather sad and pathetic way to get high. Why can’t they buy a bag o’ weed and split it amongst themselves like normal people? Or at least share a blunt! Disclaimer: This blog does not endorse the use of marijuana or any other illegal narcotic. But why are you so disgusted? You’re almost just as bad! When you fart, don’t you sometimes take a whiff, especially if you think it’s a rancid one? C’mon. Admit it. We’ve all done it. Sniffing poop gas? What’s next? People drinking shit? Oh wait.

Picture this. You’re an adolescent with poor impulse control, no sense of self and absolutely no discernible talents or gifts. No beauty, intelligence, athleticism, charisma, wit, etc, nor do you have the diligence to develop one. What do you do? You create a spectacle of yourself, that’s what! And there was no better way to do that in the late 90s than tattoos and piercings. But piercings have long lost their shock value since then, and the same shall soon apply to tattoos, as every daddy’s little girl has a tramp stamp hovering over her buttcrack and wannabe badboy has a tribal tat on his arm.

So now a new fashion trend has emerged to replace the passe art of tattooing, one which is literally the “new hotness.” Branding! And yes, it’s just what the name suggests. Someone gets a metal brand or cauterizing pen, which burns at over 1000°C, and burns a design into your skin. Some say it gives them an adrenaline rush. Well, if you really want an adrenaline rush, why not play Russian Roulette? It’s loads of fun, and if you lose, at least you get to have a bored skull. It would be a helluva lot cooler than Johnny’s lame bullring, plus you’d be the only kid on the block with one! You’d be totally cool! Try it! I love hearing horror stories about tattoos. About how someone gets a tat of his/her lover, then said person leaves, turning that tribute into a scar. About people who get tats on an alcohol-induced whim, then come to regret it for the rest of their lives. About horribly botched tattoos, and about the magic that happens when saggy skin mixes with people’s cherished tattoos. So I’ll stay tuned for those involving branding.

But this is another example of white people imitating blacks. We came up with the branded look centuries ago! Still, the chains we were wearing were far less glamourous, and the people doing the branding were wealthy plantation owners and not their white trash descendants. But branding, as extreme as it seems, is tame compared to some of the other trends, such as “scarification,” when the surface layer of your skin is carved off to form a design. There’s also “skin braiding,” in which they cut strips of skin off your body, weave it then reattach it to your body. Yeah. I know. White people. But the thing that scares me the most is not the fact that people are actually PAYING to be tortured and scarred, but that this trend may actually reach Jamaica. As the saying goes, “When America sneeze, Jamaica ‘ketch’ cold.” I really hope it doesn’t. We already import enough from First World countries. We don’t need to import their stupid.

Guys, I have a question for you. Do you love God? Unless you’re an atheist, the answer is more than likely “yes.” What would you do for him? Give up your material possessions to the poor? Spread his word throughout the Earth? Chop off your penis? That last one was a little difficult, wasn’t it? Well, believe it or not, a Spanish man did just that. He sliced off his stubby sargeant for salvation.

Rationale? His penis kept on causing him to sin. So instead of, I dunno, asking for forgiveness, he does exactly what any rational minded man would do, and lops off his dick, damn near dying of blood loss in the process. I knew the Spanish took their religion seriously, but damn! Someone should’ve told him that Mark 9:43-48 isn’t supposed to be taken literally.

I mean how could he do that? A man’s penis is like his best friend (despite what they say about dogs). It’s the first thing that greets you in the morning, looking up at you when you get up. It’s your own built-in gaming system. Not talking about using it as a joystick, if you get my drift, but when you use the restroom and they’re bits of crap in the toilet, don’t you try to blast as many of them as you can with your urine? You know you do. It’s the mark of your masculinity, the essence of all things male. And of course, there’s the obvious matter of pleasuring a woman. Another example of natural selection at work. Well, his loss. More hot, Spanish women for the rest of us to enjoy.

P.S. Yesterday made a year since Steve Irwin left us for that big bayou in the sky. Just so you know.