Breathe. Breathe. The good news is, you’re not going to die. Probably. As pharmaceutical population-control agents go, Viagra is still very much in the minor leagues: according to the lying whores at the Food and Drug Administration, it’s only managed to kill 128 people. Well, okay, that’s only counting people who had a prescription for Viagra and died anyways—you probably got yours through a buddy or some sketchy website. Yeah, that does change things a bit. Come to think of it, The American Medical Association places the actual death count at around 5,640...and that was back in 2003.
Fun fact: after Viagra was approved by the FDA, Pfizer admitted a few months later that 6 people had died during the clinical testing. No, really.
Breathe. Focus on relaxing your hips, try to visualize the blood flowing out of your dick and back into the rest of your body—which needs it, desperately. 2003 was quite a year—that’s around when it got revealed that Bayer had knowingly sold tens of thousands of people a hemophilia drug that actually contained HIV. Once they were caught in the US, they shipped it overseas. In the long run—you know, the slow, agonizing long run—the death toll will probably exceed 100,000. But nobody’s been charged...nobody’s even been investigated for that one. Keep breathing.
Did you know that over in the UK this year, they started selling Viagra over the counter? Yeah, they did it on Valentine’s day. Anyways, you’re suffering from what doctors call Priapism—it used to be called Satyriasis, but I guess that was a little too Pagan for our modern world. Look, I’m gonna be upfront with you, man. If this has been going on for more than four hours, your peter is fucked. Clinically speaking. You’re doing irreparable and permanent damage to the soft, spongy tissue and the future is going to involve a lot of awkward explanations. Assuming you ever have another girlfriend. And on the bright side, you probably won’t.
Avoid looking at your dick. That will actually prolong your erection—the jury is still out on why that is, exactly. Perhaps it’s because of adolescent conditioning...you know, looking down at your willy while you stroke off. Perhaps it’s because we’re all latent homosexuals, and you’re just not manly enough to admit it. Either way, look up, dude. Focus on other things. Breathe.
When you get to the hospital, they’re going to give you an injection, right into the base of your dick. Given the number of veins I can see on your forehead right now, though, you probably won’t feel it. By the way, don’t wince quite so much—Viagra is known to cause blindness and you’re not helping your capillaries out by squeezing your face up so hard. Although you do look pretty damn funny right now. No offense or anything. They’re going to inject you with lidocaine, probably—if that doens’t work, they’re going to start aspirating your member.
Yeah, that does mean more needles. They’re basically going to start draining blood from your general cockular region. You can get more later—if you’re lucky, it won’t have HIV in it. But hey, as long as you’re not on any methamphetamine or amyl nitrate or cocaine or too wasted off those Jager-bombs, you’re going to live, bro. You’re going to live a long and tortured life, and the funniest part is, that chick walked out on you about three hours before you called me. No, no, I’m not laughing at you, I’m just really nervous. Of course I’m not laughing at you. The ambulance will be here any minute, bro. Breathe. Breathe.
Ain’t a damn thing wrong with homosexuals. On the other hand, military recruiters are among the most disgusting forms of life known to mankind. Everyone needs a job—some of us club baby seals to death. Some of us hang around mall parking lots looking for young men with low self-esteem. We all do our part building the pyramids, and naturally, most of us get to be the slaves pushing stones uphill.
It’s a huge industry, though—not the military, I’m talking about being smug. This is a Key Tactical Advantage of the whole Humpasaur Jones mythos: there’s no illusions of authority here, anyone can tell I’m full of shit because it’s basically written across my forehead. This is a clown act by design, I get to be the crazy naked guy while tight-lipped people like Michelle Malkin write about hate-filled liberals as if any of it matters, as if the entire Western World isn’t eating itself alive with the same toxic hatred that’s been driving us insane for thousands of years now.
Do I drink a lot? Well, let’s define our terms here—how many beers does it take before I can hold my tongue when people tell me that they’re excited about Barack Obama? How many shots of Vodka do I need to stay polite during a political conversation? I think my drinking is very much under control—it’s been months since I screamed about prison camps or international pedophile rings or the naked fact that over 30,000 kids are going to die today because they starved to death.
But enough about my White Guilt, even though it’s fucking hilarious and all—let’s focus on Matt Sanchez, the former porn star who’s igniting the latest media circus. He got an award recently for his courage on the front lines of the War on Terror—that’s right, he’s a military recruiter at Columbia University. It’s hard for a man to stay sane under that kind of pressure, so he was awarded the Jeanne Kirpatrick Academic Freedom Award at an event called the Conservative Political Action Conference.
This event was also notable because the Anne Coulter hit a new low and called John Edwards a faggot and got a huge round of applause for it—which is actually kind of reassuring, because for years I thought I was insane or something. See, it seemed to me that although we’ve all technically graduated high school, hardly any of us actually left...so watching a blonde woman call someone a faggot and get cheered for it was a good “aha” moment for me.
The War on Uppitty College Bitches
Sanchez faced the same enemy that most military recruiters do—activists. Activists are basically terrorists these days, and that’s crystal clear when you read about what Sanchez had to endure...check out this excerpt from his New York Post article that started the sideshow:
I figured that a dean [Mary McGee] so concerned about student inclusion would certainly look into a simple case of student harassment. You see, I had a problem: fellow student Monique Dols.
Back on Activities Day, Dols didn’t just lecture me on my stupidity in serving our nation; she also yelled that I was a baby killer. For a Marine, being called a killer is almost flattering - but for months Dols and her friends had been disrupting pretty much every event I attended.
Most men would have broken, but somehow Sanchez managed to soldier on, and keep being paid by the government to lie to kids about the benefits they’d recieve for joining the military. I’m actually going to pass up the rich vein of material beneath his comment “for a marine, being called a killer is almost flattering”—because the core issue here is the most interesting, to me at least. It’s also totally unspoken in a “controversy” that’s generated hundreds of thousands of words in print and online.
Does the Military Kill Babies?
Of course they do. Millions of them. Referring to the military as an organization of baby-killers isn’t an insult so much as a statement of fact. They could also be called murderers, woman-killers and man-killers, and they could also also be called very brave motherfuckers. This is, after all, a job that tends to involve being shot at, by definition.
The military could be called a lot of things, but none of them are remotely true, because “The Military” is an abstraction, convenient language shorthand that makes a monolith out of what’s actually a sprawling organization of millions and millions of people that operates all around the world. There are brave young men that drive around wondering if they’re about to be blown up all day, and there are cheap cowards who level entire city blocks by entering a sequence of numbers into a computer. There are sick fucking monsters who kill civilians because it’s funny to them, and there are noble kids who try to stop bleeding and repair limbs and save lives and not go insane in the process. The military is all human, and that’s the only thing that can finally be said about it.
And humans? Humans are liars and humans are shit, by and large—if we’re going off raw numbers, it can be hard to get very enthusiastic about humans as a species. But there’s no real sense in getting stressed these days—the cops are all stupid and the sex is great. So here’s a beer for Matt Sanchez, and here’s a beer for Anne Coulter as well. We’re all horrible people, and our worst victims are ultimately ourselves. Some of us keep shooting, some of us keep drinking, and the rest of the world gets to keep pulling dead babies out of the rubble.
It’s a problem we all face—self-stimulation. Moral weakness. Some people have gotten the Hump Jones Dot Com all twisted: sure, we provide links to pornography, but we don’t expect you to use it. It’s for educational purposes, dude, I’m not trying to incite you to defile your temple or something.
So it’s come to my attention that some of our readers are having difficulty with tugging the boat. Believe it or not, I once had the same problem. Truly. But I have long since triumphed over milking my manhood—and you can, too. Here’s how.
Ask a Psychotic Fake Doctor
The external temperature of the human body is 98°F, but the internal is 100°F and this increases with masturbation. When the adolescent finishes masturbating, a peristaltic movement of absorption takes place and by effect of the emptiness, the seminal vesicle tries to fill and humid air is absorbed through the penis which is later absorbed from the seminal vesicle to the lymphatic system, arriving at the brain producing a thermal shock and cold spaces between the cerebral neurons and cells and this affects cerebral, physical and nervous normality. Seminal vesicle could absorb sperms instead of air, but this is not possible because sperms have already been expelled; besides, it is easier to suck air than liquid.
Yeah....I bet you didn’t know that. That nugget was courtesy of V.M. Samael, who can also teach you Astral Travel once you can overcome your spiritual defects. You can go and drink from his fountain simply by clicking here.
Masturbation is, of course, completely un-natural. There are some fringe groups—such as “Biologists”—who insist this is not the case, and even claim to have documentation of animals engaging in genital play. Then again, these “Biologists” also claim that the Earth is over four billion years old, and that humans evolved from monkeys. I think we can all make our own conclusions, here.
The Taoists knew that the human biological clocks is built around a discrete amount of moni shotzu, which was a japanese term for ejaculation. Ancient yogis could actually release inside a woman and then, through delicate muscle control, retract the sperm back into their testicles. Although this has never been reproduced in a laboratory setting, I’m willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. (You can read more here.)
Another source of guidance and support is the Church of Latter Day Saints, who have provided a truly timeless pamphlet entitled ”Steps in Overcoming Masturbation”—which I cannot recommend enough. Some key passages:
In the field of psychotherapy there is a very effective technique called _aversion therapy_. When we associate or think of something very distasteful with something which has been pleasurable, but undesirable, the distasteful thought and feeling will begin to cancel out that which was pleasurable. If you associate something very distasteful with your loss of self-control it will help you to stop the act. For example, if you are tempted to masturbate, think of having to bathe in a tub of worms, and eat several of them as you do the act.
In very severe cases it may be necessary to tie a hand to the bed frame with a tie in order that the habit of masturbating in a semi-sleep condition can be broken. This can also be accomplished by wearing several layers of clothing which would be difficult to remove while half asleep.
Believe it or not, Christians have also considered the problem of masturbation, and you can turn to them for assistance as well. Check out Holy Spirit Interacative, where they provide a solid Biblical perspective mixed with cool, hip, edgy and dope youth slang. For a more classical approach, read up on Dr. John Harvey Kellogg, inventor of Corn Flakes, and his brave crusade against autoeroticism.
To stop these hideous acts of depravity, Kellogg strongly advocated circumcision of young boys (note that, up until this era, most non-Jewish American boys were not circumcised), stating that the operation should be done without anesthesia because the remembered pain (and the soreness which followed for several weeks) would serve as a lasting reminder deterring the child from rummaging.
Another deterrent recommended by Kellogg was to wire a boy’s foreskin together at the tip such that any mere erection would become very painful. The wire was of course to be attached by piercing the foreskin with a needle, with the wire following along in place of thread. For the multitude of American males who do not (thanks to Kellogg and his ilk) have a foreskin, it may be worth mentioning that the foreskin is considered to be much more sensitive to pain and pleasure than the bald penis you may currently own.
He also advocated the application of carbolic acid to burn off the clitoris of young girls—advice that has been tragically ignored. Dr. Kellogg was a visionary, a man ahead of his time, but perhaps someday the world will come to understand the magnitude of his genius.
Perhaps I’m alone on this one, but I think it’s a crime against humanity that athletic events involve clothing. The Olympics were originally an all-nude event, after all. Naked bodies would vastly improve the ratings of pretty much every sporting event known to man, except maybe NASCAR, which isn’t really a sport anyways. I would actually watch women’s basketball if the jerseys disappeared.
Sadly, nearly all of the sex weirdness and phobia in the Western World can be traced back to Paul of Tarsus, a repressed homosexual who had a nasty sun-stroke seizure episode on the way from Jerusalem to Damascus. It’s been downhill ever since he perverted the Word of Christ—check the Gospel of Thomas for a handy reference on the Real Deal—into an even more psychotic version of Judaism. THANKS BRO.
37. His disciples said, “When will you appear to us, and when will we see you?”
Jesus said, “When you strip without being ashamed, and you take your clothes and put them under your feet like little children and trample then, then [you] will see the son of the living one and you will not be afraid.”
The Lord works in mysterious ways, but even Jehovah is downright normal compared to the human libido. There are people all over the world who masturbate to pictures of women taking a dump in a man’s open mouth—there is nothing anywhere in the Bible half as twisted as that, not even Lot being date-raped by his own daughters.
Of course, once you’re afraid of sex, you’re the perfect customer for any form of bullshit imaginable. Virgin Birth is actually not much of a stretch—the Artist Formerly Known as Zeus has been impregnating mortal women for milennia, after all. Plus we’ve got an abundance of documentation of the Lesser Species having virgin births, biologists call it Parthenogenesis, and apparently it mostly just happens to lizards.
It’s an early harvest season in Vermont and there’s this new strain that only lets you keep the same train of thought for 10 seconds. I was originally going to talk about contortionist porn or something—let’s get back on topic, for Christ’s sake.
The Kama Sutra has been an object of human fascination since it was written nearly 1600 years ago, and we’ve been exploring the limits of pretzel-position perversion ever since. Contortionists are so appealing because of all the new vistas they suggest to the fevered imagination.
Just watching them stretch is enough to turbo-charge a full week of masturbation. These woman are dead serious about proving once and for all that flesh is light. Their willpower is an inspiration to us all, proof positive that all our limitations are purely mental. Are you aware of your breathing, right now? Can you feel all your cells and your muscle tissue, right now? They’re all screaming at you to use them, to push them, to hurt them good, to get outside and do something real.
Just kidding—stay inside and focus on the screen, it’s the 22nd century and we won’t even have bodies in 20 years. Anyways, here’s the two best links for the perverts:
So I was draped across the lush carpeted floor of this college chick’s apartment last Monday, just sorta basking in the naked afterglow and wishing someone would bring me a beer, when she starts putting her clothes on and telling me about this Feminist Theory class she’s late for. Now, being a fairly sensitive mammal, I have nothing against Camille Paglia—she’s psychotic, so am I—but I have to admit I did start talking shit about that Steinem woman.
Long story short, I probably won’t be leaking sperm onto that carpeting ever again.
However, I would like to state a few things for the record. My sex life is not the issue—someday there will be many Congressional hearings about that and everything will be documented in detail for posterity. I just want to make it clear that I was in fact correct about Steinem’s ties to the CIA.
In 1975, after Red Stocking researched Gloria Steinem’s affiliations and raised questions about her political past, Steinem published a “statement,” in connection with her activities on behalf of the Independent Research Service, a CIA-funded group. Many feminists found this document neither entirely credible nor to the point, and they have insisted upon seeking more enlightening answers.
Because of the conscious counter-revolutionary role that the CIA has played at home and abroad over the years, it makes sense to expect a participant in the women’s movement, especially one who has come to symbolize it, to fully discuss her past relationship to the CIA. We are still waiting to hear Steinem’s opinion of the Agency. The last one she gave characterized the CIA as “liberal” and far-sighted.
Actually, I myself agree with Steinem on both counts. The CIA is truly liberal—they’re part of a control system that lets people do whatever they want to do, then infiltrates and subverts those movements for their own purposes. For that exact reason, the CIA is nothing if not “far-sighted.”
“I was never asked to report on other Americans or assess foreign nationals I had met.”—Gloria Steinem
The Red Stockings charge that this statement is an alarming lie. In a “Report on the Vienna Youth Festival” printed with Steinem’s name on it as director of the Independent Research Service, there are 13 pages devoted exclusively to biographies, political affiliations, and even some superficial analyses of persons from all countries participating in the festival.
All this has been supressed a lot—after all, it’s one of them Inconvenient Truths, like how Al Gore owns several mansions, all of which consume more energy in a month than the average American’s home does in a year. We’re in the Information Age now, though, and it’s all out there, even if most folks are too distracted to actually look up from their peckers and See It. Too many leaks in the dam—over in China, they just keep spending more money to plug holes, but here in the Brave New World, the control system is way smarter, they just flood the channels with meaningless noise instead.
So let’s start with Gloria Steinem dating Henry Kissinger. That right there should get her stricken from the record books of the Human Race—as we’ve mentioned elsewhere, Kissinger is the Least Deserving Living Man on Earth. But that’s just me, holding a petty little grudge against a man who’s killed over a million human beings without firing a single shot because he’s an impotent coward—I know, I’m a very immature young man.
We all make dating mistakes, though—I myself spent two months porking a truly unhinged white supremacist lady just for the noises she made. One thing I haven’t done, though, is accept CIA money to infilitrate radical student organizations and provide information about the kids involved.
Everyone has their own weird little axe to grind—check out Henry Makow, who runs a bizarre website called ”Save The Males.” (Boy howdy, that’s an endangered species if I ever saw one!) He insists that Steinem was working to undermine the very fabric of the Amercian Family...I guess he got “Feminism” mixed up with “Sesame Street” or something. He also talks about the CIA destroying the entire black community of the US with crack cocaine—but concludes, and I shit you not, “Feminism has done the most damage.”
Sounds like ol’ Makow has been smoking some crack himself.
Breathe. Breathe. The good news is, you’re not going to die. Probably. As pharmaceutical population-control agents go, Viagra is still very much in the minor leagues: according to the lying whores at the Food and Drug Administration, it’s only managed to kill 128 people. Well, okay, that’s only counting people who had a prescription for Viagra and died anyways—you probably got yours through a buddy or some sketchy website. Yeah, that does change things a bit. Come to think of it, The American Medical Association places the actual death count at around 5,640...and that was back in 2003.
Did you know that over in the UK this year, they started selling Viagra over the counter? Yeah, they did it on Valentine’s day. Anyways, you’re suffering from what doctors call Priapism—it used to be called Satyriasis, but I guess that was a little too Pagan for our modern world. Look, I’m gonna be upfront with you, man. If this has been going on for more than four hours, your peter is fucked. Clinically speaking. You’re doing irreparable and permanent damage to the soft, spongy tissue and the future is going to involve a lot of awkward explanations. Assuming you ever have another girlfriend. And on the bright side, you probably won’t.
Ain’t a damn thing wrong with homosexuals. On the other hand, military recruiters are among the most disgusting forms of life known to mankind. Everyone needs a job—some of us club baby seals to death. Some of us hang around mall parking lots looking for young men with low self-esteem. We all do our part building the pyramids, and naturally, most of us get to be the slaves pushing stones uphill.
But enough about my White Guilt, even though it’s fucking hilarious and all—let’s focus on Matt Sanchez, the former porn star who’s igniting the latest media circus. He got an award recently for his courage on the front lines of the War on Terror—that’s right, he’s a military recruiter at Columbia University. It’s hard for a man to stay sane under that kind of pressure, so he was awarded the Jeanne Kirpatrick Academic Freedom Award at an event called the Conservative Political Action Conference.
Of course they do. Millions of them. Referring to the military as an organization of baby-killers isn’t an insult so much as a statement of fact. They could also be called murderers, woman-killers and man-killers, and they could also also be called very brave motherfuckers. This is, after all, a job that tends to involve being shot at, by definition.
It’s a problem we all face—self-stimulation. Moral weakness. Some people have gotten the Hump Jones Dot Com all twisted: sure, we provide links to pornography, but we don’t expect you to use it. It’s for educational purposes, dude, I’m not trying to incite you to defile your temple or something.
Yeah....I bet you didn’t know that. That nugget was courtesy of V.M. Samael, who can also teach you Astral Travel once you can overcome your spiritual defects. You can go and drink from his fountain 
Perhaps I’m alone on this one, but I think it’s a crime against humanity that athletic events involve clothing. The Olympics were 
The Lord works in mysterious ways, but even Jehovah is downright normal compared to the human libido. There are people all over the world who masturbate to pictures of women taking a dump in a man’s open mouth—there is nothing anywhere in the Bible half as twisted as that, not even Lot being date-raped 
The Kama Sutra has been an object of human fascination since it was written nearly 1600 years ago, and we’ve been exploring the limits of pretzel-position perversion ever since. Contortionists are so appealing because of all the new vistas they suggest to the fevered imagination.
So I was draped across the lush carpeted floor of this college chick’s apartment last Monday, just sorta basking in the naked afterglow and wishing someone would bring me a beer, when she starts putting her clothes on and telling me about this Feminist Theory class she’s late for. Now, being a fairly sensitive mammal, I have nothing against Camille Paglia—she’s psychotic, so am I—but I have to admit I did start talking shit about that Steinem woman.
So let’s start with Gloria Steinem dating Henry Kissinger. That right there should get her stricken from the record books of the Human Race—as we’ve 