I got a DVR yesterday for the first time, which makes me eight decades behind everyone else. Join me next week as Peter King and I marvel at the "sudden" popularity of Ugg boots. Anyway, I open the fucker up, cackling with glee, and I have this conversation with the Mrs.:
ME: You're gonna love this. We'll be able to record shows for the kids, record Top Chef and Runway, and all that shit. Best of all, if you need help with the kids during the Vikings game, I can pause it and, like, help and shit. How cool is that?
HER: So you can pause the Vikings game? Cool! You could even just record it and then watch it all at night.
ME: Well, no. I can't quite do that.
HER: Why not? Wasn't that the point of getting the thing?
ME: (panicked) Yes, but you don't understand. I have to see the game LIVE. That's how it works.
HER: Then what did we get this thing for?
ME: Because… it'll help a lot, and… Look, we'll watch less TV and not more… and, uh… FUCK! DAMMIT, DON'T USE THIS WONDERFUL TECHNOLOGY AGAINST ME SO QUICKLY, WOMAN!
I'll never be able to outsmart that lady. I love her to death. To your letters:
How about bowls of cereal? Do you ever have to put your hand over the delicious nuggets so they don't fall out, but they ALWAYS do. Bowls are NEVER big enough for the cereal after the milk is poured. It's frustrating.
A problem I encounter all too frequently. I want a full bowl of cereal. So I pour the cereal all the way to the rim, then when I go to pour the milk in, it displaces the cereal and the shit starts spilling out the sides like Jiffy Pop.
Now, this happens because I am retarded. There's no question about that. If I simply had two half bowlfuls of cereal, I'd never have my Honey Nut Cheerios go spilling over the edge and rolling under the couch (adding banana makes the problem even worse). The cereal would also stay crunchier that way. But, really, FUCK THAT. I've tried this, where I fill the bowl only half way, but then my eyes say to my brain, "THERE'S ROOM IN THAT FUCKING BOWL! PUT MORE IN! MORE MORE MORE!" Then I do, and then disaster all over again. I can't help myself. I want more cereal. If it were socially acceptable, I'd just use a salad bowl at breakfast. I'd get a bowl the size of a fucking satellite dish, and then empty the whole box into it.
It's also a huge problem when you're nearing the end of a box. Your bowl is already full, but there's only a small amount of cereal left in the box, so you go ALL IN and you dump the rest out, and it's so full you can't even add a drop of milk to it before it all starts spilling over. So you stand at the counter and take gentle bites as you keep pouring the milk in. But you have to dip your spoon carefully, lest you topple the entire thing.
Still, you HAVE to eat those last bits of the box. Ever seen someone throw the box of cereal away before it's been emptied? That drives me fucking nuts. The ends bits are the best part. The bottom of a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch is like cocaine. You get all that bonus sugar on top of the shit. They should sell the end bits of CTC as its own cereal. CTC, with quadruple sugar. General Mills would be sued for giving every child in America diabetes, but it would be so worth it.
By the way, what's the maximum a box of good cereal lasts in your place? Two days? Three, max? Every cereal box says it has, like, a dozen servings in it. BULLSHIT. There are three bowlfuls in there, MAYBE. Unless you eat your cereal out of a fucking ramekin. Either a cereal is gone in two days, or you open a cereal you regret opening, and it just lingers there FOREVER while you go through box after box of better cereal. My wife always asks that I finish the box of cereal I opened before moving onto the next. And lemme tell you, going through that unwanted cereal blows. What are these? Multigrain Cheerios? Fuck these. Why did I buy these? SHIT. I'm going back to Cocoa Puffs.
We're going on too long about cereal here, but whatever. You know what rocks about cereal? Those first couple bites, when the milk has yet to actually penetrate the pores of the cereal, so you get the milk and the cereal at its crunchiest. So awesome. Now I need cereal.
Parents who bring their babies/toddlers to restaurants are assholes who deserve to have their eyes gouged out with various utensils. After reading your latest Jamboroo and seeing that you are one of these assholes, I am curious as to why you choose to unleash the wrath of your little demons on unsuspecting restaurant patrons.
There are lots of reasons people bring their kids to a restaurant despite the seeming annoyance of it. First of all, if you stayed in the house with the kids all day, you'd murder them. There's not a parent in the world who hasn't sometimes stayed in the house with a kid all day, stared up at the clock, saw it was barely 2PM, and then wanted to die. You have to get out. And you could give two shits about annoying other people in the process. Also, babysitters are expensive. The going rate for babysitters here in Maryland is $15 to $20 AN HOUR. Which is insane. Fifteen bucks an hour? How about you get to raid the fridge and use my couch to let your boyfriend tug at your training bra, and we'll call that your "pay".
An observation from my years on this earth: men who use spray deodorant will yell something stupid when they orgasm ("here...I...COME!"). If I see spray deodorant in your dwelling, it's a dealbreaker. I have no idea why this correlation exists, but it's sure as hell statistically significant by several standard deviations.
I tried spray deodorant once when I was, like, 12. It fucking hurt. Never again.
I find myself hoarding Taco Bell sauce packets. When you are broke, tortilla chips and Taco Bell Hot Sauce can be a meal. I'm just wondering if anybody else does it.
I've done that. Also, when I go to Baja Fresh, I always get 50 more containers of Baja salsa than is necessary. Then I get home, use three of them, and toss the rest. Still, if I ever underestimated the amount of salsa I needed, I would be DEVASTATED. So I overdo it to a degree of about fifty.
Baja Fresh makes you pour your own containers of salsa for takeout (complete with trying to get the plastic lid on top of the little container, which I can't do without spilling). They do this to deter you from taking too much salsa. BUT YOU PEOPLE DON'T KNOW MY DETERMINATION. I WILL HAVE YOUR DELICIOUS BLACK SALSA.
Whenever I have a nice fart coming, I'm always going to hold it in, and release it at the last possible moment to create an explosion and reaction from people around. Does that make me a bad person?
No. I also try and find a good wooden chair to sit in for amplification. Or I lift a leg. What's the point of farting if you're not gonna enjoy it?
Not a Mexican:
The proper way to make a hard shell taco is to put the lettuce and salsa on the bottom, then the meat, and top it with shredded cheese, finishing it off with sour cream or ranch dressing. The sour cream and/or ranch creates a glue-like barrier that keeps everything else from spilling out when you bite into it, thus allowing you to enjoy the taco without spilling shit all over yourself.
A fair point. I always start with the meat on the bottom, then the toppings, but then that first bite always ends up being all toppings. Annoying. Your way seems superior. But what about those little boulders of ground meat that go flying out if the meat is sitting high in the shell? WHAT THEN, MAN?!
You mentioned boneless chicken THIGHS for your recipe. I say most underrated piece of meat of all time. I don't eat chicken breasts anymore. Please praise this meat and maybe list other underrated meats. I know you've tried them all you fat fuck.
Agreed. Chicken thighs RULE. I've had stir fries and curries where we use chicken breast because it's "low in fat," and "won't kill you by age 45." Whatever. The thigh tastes like something, and doesn't have all the little bones and cartilage shit that lots of drumsticks have. Bone-in, the thigh also has that large piece of skin on top you can lift off and eat in a flash. So awesome. If there's a KFC bucket in front of me, I go for the thigh first. If there are no thighs in the bucket, I punch someone in the face.
Going along with the "Die Hard" scenarios that have been floated out there: one that I always envision is getting lost in the middle of nowhere with my wife. If we are driving anywhere that seems isolated or is nothing but wilderness, I always imagine the car careening off the road somewhere forcing us to survive for days or weeks on end (using my skills acquired from watching Survivorman of course).
Oh, absolutely. I've always pictured the trapped in the wilderness scenario, where you have to fight bears and learn to spear wild boar using only your instinct and cunning. There's also the Alive daydream, where you picture yourself trapped in the mountains with a group of people and start eating each other. Would I turn cannibal to save your own life? FUCK AND YES, I WOULD. I'd go right for the thighs.
The complementary scenario to this, of course, is the Cast Away scenario. I think that's why people like Simmons watch it a lot. I can't take any plane or boat ride without imagining a horrible crash, and then finding myself marooned on a desert island for years at time, learning to tell time by staring at the sun, building my own fires, and constructing my own airplane out of bamboo.
Last extreme daydream scenario: prison. Sometimes, I'll be driving, and I'll think to myself: Hey, what if I run over some kid by accident? Then I'd go to jail. Forever. Then I think of all the things I would do in jail. I'd read. I'd finally get some exercise. I'd turn to Islam. I'd get into shower fights. All of these imagined scenarios about prison are wrong for me, of course. If I really went to prison, I'd be "pussy on the hoof," as Richard Pryor would say. I'd be the fucking prison bicycle. Would I turn Nazi to prevent the buttsecks? Something tells me I'd be forced to turn Nazi AND have the buttsecks.
People always talk about the burnt chip that randomly ends up in a bag that is just as delicious as it is elusive. What about the burnt Cheez-It? I would back those in a battle of the surprise treats any day. Why doesn't Kraft shock the world by leaving the fryers on a little extra one night and drop a few boxes of those bad boys on my fat ass for football season?
I do like the extra brown Cheez It. In general, I like my baked things to be super fucking baked. Like, you go to the bagel shop, and you see the bin of bagels, and you see EXACTLY which one you want. It's browner than the rest, just a bit crunchier. You know that's the one for you. But the counter guy will NEVER reach for the exact one you want, so you have to redirect him. NO WAIT! THAT ONE. I WOULD VERY MUCH LIKE THAT PARTICULAR ONE. I WILL ADOPT IT AND NAME IT BURNIE.
My wife will often make plans with friends; hanging out after work, shopping, girls night out, etc. All of those are fucking awesome. To me, it means having peace and quiet to masturbate furiously, play video games, drink, smoke some pot, and order pizza and/or mexican food.
However, half the time (feels like more!), she'll cancel said plans as close to the last minute as fucking possible and I am CRUSHED. It's always some bullshit reason too, like "I'm tired" or "I just want to have a quiet night together." Then you have to go through that whole thing, trying to coerce her to actually go without making her feel like you're trying to get rid of her or letting her know you're bummed.
Oh yeah, and when my wife does that, I always try to be a "good husband" by encouraging her to spend more time with her buds and hang out. "You NEVER go out. Come on! Have fun! Go have a drink! When's the last time you saw Cheryl? I want you to have time for YOU!" Not only do I do this because I wouldn't mind time alone to watch violent movies and help myself to myself, but there's also the brownie point bank to consider. SHE went out this week. That means I can go out next week.
But wives, on the whole, never WANT to go out as much as the husbands do. She'll go out, and then she'll be home at, like, 9:30. Well, that's no good. I want to go watch a movie until midnight and then drink at a bar for two more hours, then come home half dead. It's never an even thing. They'll be like, "You were out too late!" And you're like, "Well, you could have gone out till 3AM too. I wouldn't have minded. In fact, you really need to go out until 3AM one night." They want to come home early when they go out, and they assume you would like to do the same. But I don't. I want to end up in a Rio gutter three days from now.
Would you say there is any piece of clothing that doesn't qualify for going in the re-use pile? Other than boxers, of course. I will often throw my entire outfit in the re-use pile, including my socks.
Socks. Especially dark socks. I sweat through dark socks within five minutes of wearing them.
And tranny gaffs. Gotta wash your tranny gaffs.
Have you ever watched Monsters Inside Us on Animal Planet? It just goes over horrifying accounts of people afflicted with various parasites. When I had diarrhea after having some sushi, I took a long look at my watery discharge to see if I had any wormy passengers swimming around in the bowl. I had no reason because it was a nice place, but you never know. You never know. And I have a valid reason never to experience the untouched beauty of third world countries - parasitic flies and their huge maggots.
Oh man, that sounds like a brutal show. I sometimes read about tape worms or see that footage of intestinal worms in someone's body, and they look like spaghetti wriggling around, and then I picture that in my ass, and then I get totally freaked out. Are there worms in my body? Did a spider lay eggs in my cockhole and I didn't notice?
This is why we need to eliminate all the other animals on Earth. I'm fine with extinguishing species for good. I don't want them ending up nesting in my butt.
Circumcised vs. uncircumcised masturbation. I'm an uncut man myself, which places me firmly in the minority of American males. It also means that I never really understood the whole lotion thing. I'm not 100% sure, but outside of the shower I don't think I've ever used a lubricant of any kind. It just never occurred to me. I've got this handy extra skin that allows me a firm grip with zero pain or discomfort no matter how enthusiastic I'm feeling. The skin slides up and down the shaft painlessly.
Good point. My son was born last year, and I wrestled with the whole cut vs. uncut thing. I mean, it's such a fucking weird ritual. Hey look, a baby! Let's cut off his foreskin! Seems unnecessary. But I had the kid cut anyway. Because I'm cut, and most porn stars are as well. TOTAL VANITY PLAY.
One Saturday, I was sitting on the couch watching football all day long while my wife was at work. I was drinking and dropping ass pretty much in the same spot all day. So my wife comes home and at some point I get up to piss and she stretches out on the couch, laying her head where I'd been sitting. For about the next hour she keeps accusing me of farting from where I was now sitting.
Eventually she realizes that it's not me anymore, but the cushion itself is harboring and slowly releasing my farts that had been hammered in over the day. I became proudly fascinated by this, as the smells sometimes last for hours. I even came up with a name, fart furnace, because it constantly puts out warm shitty heat. Put it on urban dictionary just to piss my wife off more, as she finds this utterly revolting. Has this happened to you? Is it the fabric and foam makeup of my couch, or do I have severe intestinal problems?
It's the fabric. Cloth couch cushions will incubate fart smells. They take on their essence. This is why people sometimes buy leather furniture. The leather will repel your farts, and then send them back out into the general air to disperse. THAT IS SCIENCE. I've been accused of ruining multiple couch cushions in my time. But now I have a leather recliner, and everyone knows that's where Daddy goes to rest his back and drop ass.
What are everyone's top five favorite world capitals, just in terms of their names? My number one is unquestionably Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso. Absolutely unbeatable. I think my list would go like this:
1. Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso
2. Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates
3. Funafuti, Tuvalu
4. Nuku'alofa, Tonga
5. Addis Ababa, Ethiopia
Do you think Washington, D.C. sounds as goofy to the Burkinabe (the demonym according to Wikipedia) as Ouagadougou does to us?
My favorite Djibouti, capital of Djibouti. It's pronounced Juh-booty. Or at least, that's how I pronounce it, because I find it humorous. I like Addis Ababa because it sounds like a character from Aladdin. I also like Ulaan Baatar (Mongolia), just for all the a's. Bangkok is a traditional winner among funny place names.
And then there's Dushanbe in Tajikistan, which has sentimental value to me. WAIT FOR YOUR NEXT CONTACT ON THE ROAD TO DUSHANBE.
/hangs up phone
So, I've used Edge shaving gel or similar products my whole shaving-life. (I've never had a satisfactory shave with an electric razor.) The thing is, every single day I put a silver dollar-sized glop of the gel on my hand, it foams up to 5x its size, and I only use about 25 to 50% of the foam that is in my hand. The rest I just dump into the sink. I've been doing this (essentially) every day for over 10 years. I am just recently fully realizing my complacency in this waste, and I realized that I am an idiot for having never learned the proper amount to actually spray into my hand. My only solace is that in a small survey of my friends, they all did the same thing. So, two questions:
-Are my friends and I a bunch of morons, or is it common for guys to completely waste 50% of their shaving gel every time they shave?
-Is there any other product where you are completely fine with essentially throwing 50% of it down the drain without ever having to use it?
I can only speak for myself on this, but for a long time, I also used too much Edge in my hand, then lathered it up only to find that I had 500 cubic liters of foam in my hand. Looked like I had scalped Santa Claus. So I tried my very best to only squeeze a little bit in there. Only they design the bottle specifically to shoot out gel at 500 mph, so you can't help but get too much in your hand. It's a conspiracy. They WANT you to use too much shaving cream. They are in their boardroom right now, LAUGHING AT US. The fucks. I also can never use a bottle of shaving gel without 90 lbs. of gel getting on the side of the bottle and crusting over. An Edge bottle after a month looks like it's been rescued from a landfill.
Aside: A good friend of mine gave me a shaving brush as a gift for his groomsmen. I always forget to use it, but shaving brushes rule. They totally make you feel like a rich person.
You should really give this Robert Evans guy the FJM treatment. Last week his MVP is Phillip Rivers. This week his MVP is Peyton Manning. Really? Peyton Manning gets his vote after two straight losses and being benched? Does he think we won't remember what he wrote just last week?
That's tough but fair.
I settle in for Taco Tuesday, and as great it is there is always one disappointment - the box of hard shell tacos. I like to have half hard shell and half soft shell, and in EVERY SINGLE BOX of hard shells, there are always two shells that are shattered around the edges and one shell that's split in half, so that if you want to use it you have to eat your taco like a sandwich. I've even started lightly shaking the packages before I buy them, and if I hear those crumbs bouncing around I put it back and try another. Buying taco shells is even worse than eggs - at least if you come home with broken eggs you know it's your own stupidity for not checking them or failing to keep them safe.
Often, I just give up and make a ghetto taco salad, where you crumble up a couple shells on your plate, then throw all the shit on top. This is totally a pussy way to go. A stronger man like Andy here would FIGHT for an intact taco.
Have you ever had a severe thumb injury? If not, you wouldn't believe how inconvenient it is. Two of my dogs got in a fight over a Christmas Chew toy, and one of them inadvertently tore the end of my right thumb open (see attached pic)
I am the proud new father of a four-month old. He's a great baby but wakes up at least 3-4 times per night. My wife is exhausted, so on the weekends I try to give her a break and take the baby when he wakes up. I usually throw him in the Baby Bjorn (basically a baby-holding backpack worn on the chest) while I make myself some cereal and coffee.
Well, last weekend we were in our usual routine — I was downstairs with him strapped in to the Baby Bjorn (facing forward) making some breakfast. All of a sudden, my morning crap came early and urgently. I had a legitimate poop emergency. There was absolutely no time to dump the baby in his crib or anywhere else, so I just ran to the bathroom and sat down on the can with him strapped in. I laid some cable per usual — probably five minutes tops, bad but not atrocious odor, no scary sounds, and a hassle-free wipe (I steadied him with one hand while I leaned forward and wiped with the other). The little guy didn't seem to mind the ordeal, but for some reason I feel like I've done something wrong. Am I a bad father?
No. In fact, you may be a genius. I never thought to use the Bjorn. Sometimes, I've grabbed the baby to go shit, then held the kid tight while they try desperately to squirm away from my noxious, poopy loaf. Neither party ends up satisfied in this arrangement. Then I put the kid down and the bang their head on the pipe under the sink 900 times while I'm trying to wipe. Not fun. Your solution is a tactically sound one.
When kids learn to walk and talk, they will happily barge in on you going to the bathroom at all times. You never get to piss alone if there's no spouse around to relieve you. The kid will walk in and go, "Daddy, what are you doing? Are you peeing?" Then they'll walk right up to your leg and just stare. Then you have to take your hand and block your dick from their view, because you don't know if their memory has started and they'll remember seeing your hairy dick 26 years from now.
I had an RA my freshman year of college who one night was lying on the ground looking into our room's window from the outside (we lived in the basement of the dorm) to try to catch us smoking weed. A friend of ours called and said he saw him doing it, so we snuck out one-by-one and walked up behind him and busted him out. He claimed he was looking for his keys. Fucker.
Then, my sophomore year, the last day of school before the summer, I was all packed up and had to do this checkout bullshit. The RA (different school) said I and everyone else on the floor had to contribute like 10 bucks for hallway repairs since we apparently destroyed the hallway (which was bullshit). Naturally I didn't have any cash on me, so I had to delay leaving and go to a fucking ATM and then come back and give him the money.
God I hated RAs.
Me too. You RA's out there are gutless pricks. Every RA I had at college had a scraggly beard and an ugly girlfriend. Dicks.
I love my girlfriend. Been with her a while now; finally moved in together last year. People ask me when I'm gonna marry her. I sheepishly say, "I don't knowwww…." What I really want to say is, "When she gives her 13 year old son up for adoption."
I can't stand the kid. If we ever break up, I know it'll be because of my disdain for her son. I did everything I could to try to like him, but I can't do it. He is the most annoying kid I've ever met. So much so that when he's being creepily over-affectionate with my dog, I nearly give myself an aneurysm willing my dog to bite his face off. I was never a bully in school, but if I was, this is the kid whose ass I would kick daily. And it'd be warranted. Here are my main gripes; he wants to fuck my dog, he coddles his Mom WAY too much, he's a bonafide pussy, he always takes the big piece of meat, he's a smelly kid, he can't throw a spiral, he quit or was cut from all sports teams, he chews with his mouth open ON PURPOSE, he pees all over the toilet when not peeing the bed, he scratches my DVDs/BluRays, when I buy a new videogame he plays it before I do and beats it and then spoils it when I'm playing it, he never shuts the fuck up even after people tell him, "Please, shut the fuck up."
My girlfriend tells me, "He's just a kid being a kid." I say he's a douchebag who just happens to be 13.
That's always the conundrum. Are ALL 13-year-olds this horrible, or is this one unique is his jackassery? I agree that some kids are just shittier than others. You have to just use your own experience as a comparison point. For example, I never tried to bang a dog when I was 13. Oh sure, I may have CONSIDERED it. But it never got to the flirting stages. Ever. Advantage: 13-year-old Drew.
I thought you might enjoy the car I saw in a community center/ice rink parking lot yesterday. I hope he has another car with the plates "1N STNK".
You monster. How do you know he's not a cotton candy salesman?
I did it again, I just had to. As always, this bet is on credit. I took the Utah Jazz-Dallas Mavericks first half under (96). We'll see what happens.
Jon was the reader who $11,000 on the Pats a while back and lost. Good to see him practicing more restraint with a modest $2,200 bet. And he won! YOU'RE HOT, BABY! BET THE 401K! BET THE 401K!!!!!
Can you figure out why, when me and every other guy on the this planet go to take a piss at a bar, or some other place where we are consuming alcohol in mass quantities, we spit into the urinal or toilet that we are pissing into at the same time?
Because we can. Toilets are just asking to be spat on, not unlike Jay Leno.
Made with bits of real panther swipe:
I feel that one of the most bittersweet moments in life is entering the stall of a public bathroom and sitting down on a warm toilet seat. After bracing yourself for the cold, it feels amazing to sit down on a warm seat, but it hits you that some stranger's bare ass was exactly where yours is now. Your thoughts?
Yeah, but someone's ass was there before even on the cold toilet seat. So long as the warm toilet seat isn't moist, I say enjoy it without a second thought.
When no one else is around (2:30AM), I get away with throwing away recyclable yogurt/pudding cups by wrapping them in a paper towel. Am I the only one?
We live in a county that recycles everything, so Mrs. Drew will take great pains to remind me to rinse out and recycle anything I'm about to discard: yogurt cups, cream cheese tubs, etc. And sometimes, when she isn't looking, I TOTALLY DON'T. What a thrill. Like joining a motorcycle gang.
So like anyone else I enjoying rubbing one out in bed before going to sleep. The problem though is afterwards I can't just roll over and go to sleep because I always, without fail, have a little blob of semen still chilling in my urethra that didn't make it all the way out. Now if I ignore it, during the course of the night it'll manage to dribble out and either leave my leg a crusty mess or superglue my dick to my boxers. My solution is the get up and pee right after, but most of the time I had already pissed recently, and end up standing at the toilet for like 10 minutes trying to force this lazy sperm out, defeating the whole "jerk one and go to bed" idea. I never have this problem though after having sex. Is thing normal, or do I have some sort of 10W-40 sperm better suited for engine lubrication?
You're not alone, and I will stand there for minutes at a time squeezing to make sure all the skeet is out of my fella before I go back to bed. And yet, there's always a straggler. Always. They defy the piss out, or the squeeze out. They just sit back and wait until you've let your guard down, and then they just go dribble out and RUIN YOU. They do the Krazy Glue thing, or they seep through your pants in the middle of a job interview. Guhhhhhh.
The other day, upon completion of a piss, I went to squeeze out the last bit while simultaneously beginning the shaking process when my dick cramped up. Seriously. My dick wrenched itself into some unnatural shape (not entirely unlike Brian Baldinger's pinky finger) and the pain sent me reeling backward into the bathroom door where I then fell to the ground and futilely attempted to bend my disfigured johnson back to it's normal shape. After the longest twenty seconds of my life everything returned to normal, but fuck if I haven't been scared out of my mind every time I've pissed since then. Has this ever happened to you?
No. Go see a urolgist. Penises are not supposed to have seizures. Great, now all I can think of is Benicio Del Toro's hand spasming in the Wolf Man ads.
Has anyone else ever used their girlfriends "magic wand massager" to get off with? I've been the handy man all my life but once out of curiosity when she was gone I plugged that sucker up and used it. It was great! No lotion, no wrist fatigue, no hand switching or warm up time. Just plug it in and perfection. I mean it has speeds and the whole nine, why didn't I know about this years ago? I know I cant be the only one, ever tried it? If not, I endorse the hell out of it.
Excellent point. Also, you can pretend you're dueling it. AVAST, YE VIBRATOR!
In a recent mailbag, you touched on Chinese food and hit on the topic of Lo Mein. When I was in the Navy, I was stationed right on the Georgia/Florida border and could get that shit everywhere. From Wong's in the strip mall, to Panda Express, and everything in between. It was fucking joyous. Since then, I've returned to my California home, and now whenever I go into a Chinese restaurant, I get the thousand yard stare when I ask for Lo Mein, like I just ordered Szechuan Unicorn. They stammer about and ask if I meant CHOW Mein, stupid white boy? Are there warring Chinese food gangs and sects that protect their noodle secrets from each other or something? How can NOBODY out here have heard of it?
This can't be. I've lived in the Midwest and the East, and I've never seen a Chinese restaurant menu that doesn't have lo mein. I can't imagine California, home to a huge Asian population and some of the world's best Asian cuisine, would have no lo mein available in a standard Chinese restaurant. Chow mein? Are you still in the Navy mess hall? Who the fuck eats chow mein anymore? Our Cali readers surely can help this man find his precious lo mein. That would be like going to a Chinese restaurant and not seeing dumplings.
I was wondering if you've heard from anyone that's ever jerked off on an airplane before? I call it the "Solo Mile High Club". I'm a member. I think it should only count on a commercial flight, not any private or small charter plane.
Also a member here. I also, without fail, will experience turbulence mid-jerk. Most airplane bathrooms are too low for my head, so that means I'm trying to get off while the plane is bouncing around and smashing my head against the ceiling. And yet, I thrive. Nothing can get in the way of a man and his stewardess fantasy.
Special thanks this week to reader CDNMoose, who is the unquestioned shiznit.