Prepare to be offended, shocked and appalled.

A recent, totally serious survey was conducted that proved (yes, proved) that 1 in 10 guys have unprotected sex due to the fact that they’re too embarrased to go to the pharmacy and buy condoms.

Pish, tiffle and snort, I say!  What in the world could be wrong with proudly proclaiming to a room of complete strangers that you have a penis and you’re going to poke something with it?  Well, if you’re one of those poor bastards who’s happy getting VD or a kid because you’re too scared to buy prophylactics, here’s J’s special guide on how to avoid embarrassment when shopping for condoms!

I’d like to just quell the discussion here by saying that I cannot be held responsible for any mental scarring and/or feelings of nausea caused by the content of this post.  If you feel ill because you’re trying to imagine me doing all of this stuff, then you’re a very sick person and I want your phone number and home address now.   K?  kthxbai.  Oh, we’ll also have Rhy and Nap providing theatrical examples of each point.  Now you know we’re getting fucked up.

1.  Browse for a while before making your purchase

Due to the sheer selection of rubber hoses available at your local pharmacy, it’s always best to take your time before buying.  Don’t just rush in there and grab the first pack you choose: you’ll usually end up disappointed.  Perhaps bring a loved one or significant other to help you in your purchase.  After all, her pleasure is important, too.  Here’s an example of a typical conversation that should unfold around the condom stall of the pharmacy:

What do you think honey?

This is so, so embarrassing…

I was thinking maybe the water-based ones… I- oh.  No.  They’re made by Ukranian orphans.  I’ll have none of that, thank you very much!  Excuse me, clerk!  Clerk!

What are you doing?

Just a sec, dear.  Clerk!  Excuse me!  Where can I find the fair trade condoms?

Aisle three, next to the ethically produced viagra.

Oh, yeah.  There they are!

Taking your time to choose condoms shows that for you, sex is nothing to be embarassed about.  It shows that you take the horizontal boogaloo seriously: no giggling, no inappropriate touching and no cuddling afterwards.  You want to show to the people in the store that you’re as cold as that hooker you murdered last week.

2. Make sure to buy a large selection in all shapes and sizes.

This shows people that your sex life is varied and can be fun.  Ideally, you want to purchase something that’ll give you a fond chuckle years on while reading the paper by the fire:

Oh, zose glow in ze dark condoms!  What a riot zey did give us!

I like to pretend that my penis is an anglerfish, and my partner is a foolish fish, ever hypnotized by a glowing lure in the dark.  You can pretend that your sexual congress is part of a nature documentary.  Hell, you could even get Richard Attenborugh to provide the commentary!

The anglerfishpenis is a solitary animal and tends to hunt alone in the dark recesses of the abyss.  It waits in the silt of the ocean floor, using it’s glowing lure to attract prey.

Bloop bloop bloop, I’m a fishy fish fish.  My life is so fucking cool!  I can swim and shit!  Hey… what’s that?  It’s all glowy… It’s shiny.  Ooh.  What… AH! AH! FUCK!  It’s got ahold of me!

The anglerfishpenis beats the prey into submission before – OW FUCK! My eye!

Oh.  Ah deed not see vous there, Richard.

3. Never, EVER buy normal sized condoms.

What, do you really want everyone to know you’re just an average Joe?  Fuck that, buy magnum sized condoms.  If they’re too big for you, just slap on a few rubber bands and your good to go.  Plus, the girl at the check out counter will be seriously impressed.

Ohmygosh.  But that means…

That’s right, baby.  I was actually thinking of getting penis reduction surgery.  My last partner died, I was there like a guy with his hand stuck in a vending machine; I had to get the medics to use the jaws of life to cut me out.  It was terrible.

Why do you keep on winking?

I, uh… It’s a motor disease.  I’ve actually got Parkinsons.

Of course, what she doesn’t know is that you’re lying through your back teeth.  But that doesn’t matter.  She still thinks you rock.  Just don’t sleep with her.  Ever.  Because then she’ll know that you’re the proud owner of a fruit roll-up.

4.If all else fails, pretend you’re a cheap bastard.

If you’re still embarrassed, then be inventive.  I knew a guy who pretended he was using them as balloons for a kid’s party.  Okay, so that guy was Napoleon and that never really happened.  But this is comedy, damnit!

Woah.  That sure is a lot of condoms.

Oui.  Mah name ees Honkee Ze Cloon and ah am short of munee.  So ah must bah condoms for ze childrens birthday party.

Wait, what?  You want to buy condoms for a kid’s birthday party? … the fuck?

Oui, oui.  For ze blow up balloons, n’est-ce-pas?

Hey, weren’t you the guy at my little brother’s birthday party?  The clown who passed out in the swimming pool in a puddle of his own vomit?

*looking up* Fuck, we’ve been rumbled!

Let us run!  Sacre bleu!

Or, failing that, you could buy them from a vending machine.

Go, go, go!

J

The sad truth behind your favorite kid’s TV shows

Our childhood was dominated by those non-sensical, druggish opiates known as Kid’s TV shows.  Many an hour did we sit in front of the Idiot Box waiting for our minds to be filled with brightly coloured, badly scripted programs.  But with the world being as it is, were these all facades for a much darker truth?  You be the judge.

Tellytubbies

What we saw: Four anthropomorphic balls of felt run around a flowered meadow, spouting gibberish and eating strange coloured slop.  Secondary characters included a vacuum cleaner on speed and a hallucinogenic sun with the face of a baby.  Dalì, eat your heart out.

The sad, sad truth: The Tellytubbies aren’t guys in suits: they’re the result of genetic experimentation.  Over the course of four years, scientists picked up homeless people from the street and gave them a series of shots which subsequently transformed their genetic makeup, turning them into the fuzzy, non-sensical characters we all know and love.  “Eh-Oh” does not actually mean “hello”.  They’re begging to be put out of their misery.  Prior to his TV debut, Tinky Winky was actually a 40 year old transvestite, waiting for a sex change.

"Call me Barbara"

The creators of the TV show frequently pumped an hallucinogenic gas into the set, provoking the actors into seeing a giant baby in the sun.  Of course, in reality, if a baby was in the sun, he would burn up.  Science FTW!

Mr Rogers

What we saw: A kind old gentleman (who scarily looks like a young Hugh Hefner) controls an imaginary toy world of his own creation and teaches us to love our neighbour.  I loved my neighbour, but was forced to move away after that restraining order.

The sad, sad truth: Broadcast from a local mental hospital for the criminally insane, Rogers’ grip on his Toy Village was tyrannical, with the residents being forced to do his bidding.  A master of disguise, his “love your neighbour” routine was actually a ploy to lure children into his grip.  After a series of drug addictions and prostitution scandals, Rogers retired from the entertainment business and now holds a low level job in the council service, working with troubled children.

An old guy who invites kids to play with him? We can trust HIM, can't we?

Sabrina the Teenage Witch

What we saw: a young witch struggles with the hardships of adolescent life, all the time juggling an occult lifestyle with a talking cat.

The sad, sad truth: Behind the scenes, visitors to the set would mysteriously disappear, their remains being found in the woods outside the production studio with strange occult markings carved into their flesh.  While the police made no arrests, they did suspect that the murders had something to do with the star of the show, a strange blonde girl who talked to animals.  To this day, no arrests have been made.

We all gon’ die!

J

Internet Personas work better than any psychologist

The Internet has connected the world (take that, Nokia!), it must be said.  We are living in an age where we can talk to a bunch of people we’ve never met before… and then be scarred for life when we find out that the 19 year old blonde from Los Angeles is actually a 57 year old trucker from Alabama.

But in this day and age, can we really be sure we know who we’re talking to?  We can now, thanks to the FTD psychological catalogue of random internet people!

The World of Warcraft nut

Typical expressions: “I’m a level 22 paladin!  I’ve slain the beast of Murgoth, drunk the broth of Ardenfell and seduced the virgin of Brixton!”

What they’re actually trying to say: “I’m in my twenties, unemployed and have carpal tunnel syndrome from the endless hours I play WoW pretending I’m someone important.”

These people generally have no friends and try to escape from their mundane life of… mundaneness (It’s a word now, you bastards) by adopting their in game persona in the hope that hot chicks dig overweight guys who play video games for 17 hours a day.  Losing your virginity is just around the corner, guys!  All you need to do is complete that final quest…

The Internet Tough Guy

Typical expressions: “O yea?! I cud kik ur ass!  Meet me in teh park at 9pm and we’ll settle this liek man!”

What they’re actually trying to say: “I use stereotypical male agression to hide the fact that I have a very small penis”.

Typical hang-outs: Chat rooms, forums and 4chan

The Internet Tough Guy tends to use expressions and threats with homosexual undertones, I.E. “You’ll think you’ve been fucked in the ass by a rhino when I’m finished with you”.  Be advised, actually pointing this out to them tends to provoke accusations of homosexuality; “Don’t be a fag!”  Oh, and that meeting at the park?  Don’t bother turning up.  They won’t.

The Internet Hussy/Lothario

Typical expressions: “Hai, let’s get together and I will rock ur world, baby”

What they’re actually trying to say: “I make up for my extreme loneliness by fucking anything with a pulse”

Usual hang-outs: Craigslist, Ebaumsworld, Myspace

The Internet Hussy/Lothario models his/herself after the popular MTV duo Beavis and Butthead, using phrases such as “hey, baby”, “hur hur hur” and “we can score”.  They typically send their victims photos of Jessica Simpson or Britney Spears (before she went batshit) with their heads badly photoshopped on.  Be aware, chatting to them runs the risk of STDs being transmitted through your internet modem.

The UFO/Ghost/Spiritualist nut

Typical expressions: “ZOMG I saw a ghost/UFO last night!  They took me aboard their spaceship and probed me!” or “I was a high ranking egyptian priestess in a past life!”

What they actually mean: “I live a tedious life in the suburbs and make up these stories to feel important and unique”

Typical hang-outs: Every fucking forum that has ever existed.

The UFO/ghost nuts are typically gullible bastards who’ll believe anything you tell them.  Of course, they deny that they’re crazy as shit.  The best way to get rid of a past life fanatic is by telling them that you have also had a past life experience.  You were a villager named Dougie who had no significant importance and lived a long, fruitless life in a 14th century English village somewhere near Hastings.  Or, failing that, you were Richard Nixon.

The right-wing blogger

Typical expressions: “An army of communist hippie UFO squirrels killed JFK!”

What they’re actually trying to say: “Pay attention to me.  I have no friends.”

Typical hangouts: Ebaums world, forums, news sites.

The right-wing blogger will spurriously deny any accusations of racism, justifying their love for all races and creeds by saying “I’m not racist! I love foreigners, I just don’t want them living next to me!”.  They generally have no proof for their political theories, and an argument with them will quickly degrade into childish name calling and death threats.  Politics do indeed make strange bedfellows.

The liberal blogger

Typical expressions: “Chaaaaaaaange!”

What they’re actually trying to say: “I am a tool, a tool, a dirty, thoughtless tool.”

Typical hangouts: Everywhere and nowhere, maaaaan.

On the internet, “liberal” is usually a term that denotes anybody to the left of Pat Buchanan.  Many of these people usually have no clue what they’re supporting, claiming it’s part of the “greater good”.  Internet liberals outside of the US have a habit of telling everybody to vote for Obama, regardless of the fact they can’t vote for him themselves.  They usually don’t care about politics inside their own country.  Kill them with fire.

Take that, Internet!

J.

The queen is a twit (no, srsly)

The Royal Family, being the hip cool dewds that they are, have decided to get down with the kids.  What haven’t you heard? Charles is rolling with his G’s in the Peckham Boys (word up, boyeeee), his sons are dealing smack and pimping out their bitches (their words, not mine) and Albert is coming out with a rap album next year!

So with the era of change so wonderfully in swing, it’d only seem right that the Queen opened up her own Twitter page, right?  Internet stalking has never been easier!  Of course, the Queen being the Queen, she uses our hard earned tax money to pay someone to update it for her.  Joy.  So what if she actually wrote the updates herself, like any other internet nerd?  Well thanks to the wonders of imagination, you too can find out!

On 21 April, 2008 8.00: Happy birthday to me.  Charles gave me another set of holiday snaps.  Why can’t the little shit spend money on me once (okay, twice) a year?

On 22 April, 2008 15.36: Shit day yesterday.  At the bash, Albert threw up in the maids bra after thinking bottle of toilet duck was whiskey.  Thank fuck I don’t have to clear it up.

On 9th June, 2008 14.12: Royal visit to a hospital.  Was in children’s ward and a young boy coughed on me.  Must remind doctor to give me AIDS jab.

On 16th June, 2008 3.20: @Perez Hilton: LEAVE BRITNEY ALONE!

On 29th June, 2008 16.78 (wait, what?): Too hot.  William said he had an idea that he saw on something called Simpsons.  Pitched a tent in front of refridgerator, opened the door.  Was great until the motor burned out.

On 5th September, 2008 4.12: GIN!

On 9th October, 2008 18.03: Watching Eastenders really puts me in touch with the common people.

On 25th December, 2008 14.44: Just watched my speech on equality in the world.  Had troubles keeping a straight face!  Albert passed out in toilets.

On 1st January, 2009 0.05: Hppy noo yer you band f misrble cnts.

On 1st January, 2009 8.23: Sorry about last update.  Albert’s finally figured out what a computer is.

On 5th February, 2009 2.32: Charles trying to kill me. Call police. Now. Please.

On 6th February, 2009 8.46: APRIL FOOLS!  The day Charles takes over is the day Hell freezes over.

On 6th February, 2009 10.02: Just been informed that April Fools is on April 1st.  Press outside the palace, they thought I was srs.

On 1st April, 2009 8.56 APRIL FOOLS! Oh, wait…

On July 25th, 2009 10.17: Just saw a blog mocking me and my twits.  Forward to Death: FUCK YOU!

Till next time,

J

Stop Fapping

Someone's getting fired.

Hey, Mark… Uh, about your new commercial.

With the girls?

Yeah, that’s the one.  Uh… Don’t you feel it’s kind of inappropriate?

Inappropriate? What do you mean?

You mean to tell me you don’t find anything inappropriate with a photo of two pre-pubescent girls bending over with “LICKABLE” written in large block letters?

Oh, you mean… the slogan?

Yeah, I –

Don’t worry Jeff, I see what you mean… Jesus! How could I have been so blind?  Yeah, the slogan’s all wrong… Should have been “eatable”.

No.  No. Mark. No.  Okay?  Just… okay, you’ve gotta change the photo.  Get rid of the girls.  People are gonna get the wrong idea.

How?  I’m confused.  You lick ice cream, right?  I mean, that’s what –

No, people are going to assume you mean that the GIRLS are “lickable”.  Not the ice cream.

What? I… Oh dude!  Dude!  You’re rank! That’s disgusting! I…  But… I mean, weren’t you the one who told me sex sells?  Surveys show that the pedophile demographic of our consumers is a minority.  I mean this could be a great way to get new customers!

Shit… Holy fuck, you’re up for a promotion!

Why don’t you take a seat?  Come on, sit down and let’s talk.

Fuck! Chris Hansen!  Run!

STOP FAPPING,

J