The Ending is Always a Lie or Big - Everyone's Favorite Crime Drama

When you think back to movies you’ve watched over the years,  it's (probably) not very common for you to think about the alternate side of the whole story or the story from someone else's point of view or even the ramifications of the actions of the main characters. 

Once they end, they end and you don't really give two shits about anything else other than the successful outcome of the main guy.

Did they set out to achieve their ultimate goal? Yes? Fuck yeah, let's go get cinnamon buns at Ikea. 

Spoilers: You're going to die.

What sparked this whole idea was the movie Big, with Tom Hanks. I’ll get into that in a moment but first I’d like to go over a more recent movie I watched, The Life of Pi. 

You’ve probably seen it, or at least know what it’s about. 

In short, it’s the story of some dude named Pi who gets stranded on a boat with a tiger named Richard Parker and tries to survive with little to no food or water, keeping himself and Richard Parker alive while trying to find land or some place that isn’t water. 

(It’s like Waterworld with Indians and tigers, but doesn’t suck, also no guns or pirate dudes, or Kevin Costner. It’s probably not at all like Waterworld, but you should watch it anyway.)

Why he doesn’t just bludgeon and eat Richard Parker is beyond me, but whatever, it’s supposed to be a tale of the human spirit, not about how delicious tiger meat is. 

Tiger meat has to be fucking fantastic, they are an endangered species after all and I can guarantee it’s not because they’re stupid, this fucking tiger swims in the movie. SWIMS. If I wet my cat, he fucking loses his shit and this tiger swims in the ocean, holy shit. 

I think Richard Parker even rolls a fat joint with the kid halfway through the move while reciting his favorite Wu Tang Clan lyrics, it was nuts. 

Dude, is it just me or is there a dead fucking zebra on this boat?

But yeah, tiger meat is probably tits, my man. THE TITS.

So anyway, spoiler alert, fuck your mother, the kid finds land at the end and gets rescued, I want to say it was in Mexico,  all while Richard Parker just bails the boat and runs towards some nearby woods.

The kid is safe, lives to tell his tale, somewhat happy ending, I guess, I mean, his family is still dead, but hooray.

Family's dead, YOLO.

At this point, I feel that Richard Parker’s current status is the real story here. 

Here you have Pi being rescued and dragged off to work tech support at some Mexican phone company, presumably, but no one mentions that there’s now a Bengal tiger roaming the Mexican wilderness. This is BAD news. Anyone who knows how ecosystems work knows that this tiger is going to fuck shit up so bad. He's going to completely destroy the local wildlife, (what fucking animal over in Mexico can possibly fuck with a tiger?) possibly maim and/or kill many locals, and piss all over everything in the woods causing some serious ecological damage on a pretty big scale.

Hunters can’t hunt because he’d fuck them up, no one can gather wood because he’d fuck them up and as a result, shit’s going to go sour. People will die or at the very least, they’re going to send out a squad of gunmen to shoot the big orange balls off of Richard Parker. 

So either way you cut it, the ending of The Life of Pi is just a really fucked up situation for all, particularly for Richard Parker and all of whatever part of Mexico is being decimated by his rampage of tiger piss.

Now to get to the point of this, (FINALLY! Fuck you.) I give you the movie Big.

Everyone loves Big.  Ask anyone who happened to be a kid during the 80’s and they’ll have it in their top whatever list of favorite things to numerically list and call favorite. It’s always mentioned, it’s a classic film. 

Simple story too, kid hates being a kid, makes a wish at a magical wish machine, becomes Tom Hanks, gets a dream job, gets a pimp ass balling fucking apartment in Manhattan and has sex with a below average looking middle aged white woman while playing with toys. It’s the American dream. 

Now if you stop to think about it, the kid is living it up, it’s an epic adventure for him, however, from his mom’s perspective, the movie Big is a nightmarish crime drama.

This kid is jumping on trampolines and getting his dick sucked by Billy while his mom sits at home assuming her son was kidnapped and is being tortured by the very man she saw in her house at the beginning of the movie.

Every moment is horror for her, not knowing if her son is some sex slave to Forrest Gump or being fed spoonfuls of human shit or getting punched in the dick repeatedly by a boxing glove on a pendulum or any number of terrible things that kidnappers do.

To make matters worse, he calls her during the film, sings “Memories”, and goes along with the whole kidnapping bit. 

She’s probably a complete fucking wreck at home, but they don’t really focus on that, we’re just given the parts of the story where everything is innocent fun while she’s probably crying into her pillow for hours every night with zero leads from the police.

Even when it ends, it couldn’t possibly lead to a happy ending. She gets her son back, obviously after the spell wears off and he shows up in a grown man’s suit.

Then what?

There will be years of therapy for all.

So many medical bills. They'll be buried in debt.

Plus, no matter what he says, she’s going to believe what she assumes to be the worst possible scenario and think he was threatened to say otherwise. 

She doesn’t know if that man will come back one day and snatch the kid all over again then drag him to his rape basement of fucky fuck.

The police will have a cold case file up their asses forever, since this “kidnapping” will never be solved and the mom will never rest easy knowing he’s out there and potentially waiting to strike again.

In this photo: Not Tom Hanks, possibly a rapist. 

This movie is quite possibly the most horrifying movie of all time from a mother’s perspective, yet we all love it as a timeless tale of childhood innocence in an adult world.

God damn, we’re so stupid. 

All this while Zoltar has that smug fucking look on his stupid face.

Conversely, Big is a fantastic title for a pornographic film. 

If anyone is wondering, no, I don’t use drugs or eat tiger meat because they don't sell it at BJ's.

Thanks for reading.

This Fucking Guy

You're a real piece of shit, Bryan Bronx. A real piece of shit.
Post something already, you motherfucker.

My Greatest Christmas

Must have been 89 or 90, so long ago, I can barely remember exactly, I just remember that it was the greatest video game gift I've ever received, and probably the best Christmas I've ever had.

I must have been 10 or 11 or so.

My aunt Loida possibly saved up and/or probably had to borrow money to buy it for me, because this particular gift, it cost about $100 some odd dollars back then and I figured I'd never get it, since she supported 7 of us and my uncle's drug habit on top of a car that conked out at least once a month.

I had been asking for this gift as hard and as often as I could for two years, a few of my pals had one, and I'd hang with them just to get my fill, to satisfy the urge to have it, but it wasn't enough, I needed my own, but there were bills to pay, and kids to feed, not much extra for videogames.

The only videogames we did get were occasional used NES games from Doorae's mall down on West Farms, where we'd gamble on a random title and risk it and get whatever we thought was cool.

There was no internet back then, only word of mouth, so if a game sucked, you were shit out of luck.

But, if Ralphie from across the hallway had the game, it must have been good.

He was an only child who got all the cool games.

Otherwise, we blew about $20-$30 bucks on a real piece of shit, either way, that was what we got maybe twice a year, if we were lucky.

I'd mostly get my games by borrowing and trading with friends.

One good thing about being a Foster kid, and living in the hood, people tend to move a lot.

When you borrow, and your pal moves, you got a free game, it almost always worked out in your favor, but, there were times when it totally fucked you over, and you lost a game or two.

A gamble, but sometimes, you’ve got to give it your all with the shitty cards you're dealt, none of that know when to fold’em bullshit.

Anyway, Christmas day comes, we used to open gifts at the stroke of midnight on Christmas day, I remember opening a few gifts, mainly action figures, and stocking stuffers from grandma, mostly sweatpants and socks and art supplies and shit.

I'm done unwrapping all the fodder, but my dream gift was nowhere to be seen.

Did they forget?

Did they not care?

What the fuck?

WHERE IS IT??

And then my aunt passes me one last package,  MAYBE, just MAYBE, here it is, a rectangular shaped box, with the words “from Santa, to Bryan” written on it (my family always writes that shit on gifts).

Is this it?....

What could be inside?

Is it a trick??

I unwrap this gift hesitant, slowly,  like the first time I took a girl’s bra off, nervous, yes, but with a hard on so stiff, I could jack a tank up to change its tire and not have it bend.

I get the corner off, from there, I kick the shakes, and just let it rip, there it is, oh my god....it's a ....it's a FUCKING GAMEBOY HOLY SHIT!!!!!!!!!

Out of sheer excitement, I jumped so high, I almost banged my head on the eight foot high ceiling, there's photo evidence of this somewhere, meanwhile, I'm screaming “A GAMEBOY, A GAMEBOY” so loud, everyone in the house is all smiles for me, it's like I got the gift of gifts, and all my cousins and my brother knew that this was my moment, I had finally gotten something I wanted in my shitty life, the fact that I lived in the hood, that I was poor, that I was unfortunate,  none of that mattered, at this moment in time, I was a millionaire, I was Richie Rich, I was golden.

I immediately tossed four double a batteries into the Gameboy and began playing the only game I'd own for a good few months...Tetris.

This was a momentous occasion.

This was the greatest moment ever in my young life.....

Then, the horror came....

A few months later, I STRONGLY believe my uncle would go on to steal my Gameboy from underneath the pile of unmatched socks in my sock drawer and sell my Gameboy on the street for $20 to buy drugs.

I had nothing now, my moment.....was at an end, and life had no purpose.

I wished his death so hard that even the devil thought I was being too harsh.

He had to die....

I suffered for a few months, no Gameboy, just regular console games to hold me over in the meantime.

Luckily, the god of video games heard my calls, and the next Christmas I got the Gameboy core system!

I was back!!!.

Then the horror struck again....and when I slept over my friend’s house, they switched their broken Gameboy for my brand new one...

I still own it to this day, it works, but the screen borders are a bit cut off.

Life sure can suck sometimes.

And this is my little holiday story, the story of my best Christmas throughout my childhood, my video game Christmas story.

Special Thanks to Titi Loida, without you, I would probably be in jail or dead somewhere.

Valentine's Day And Giant Vaginas

This is one of those posts where the title kind of says it all and at this point, all I'd really need to do is post a picture or two of each topic and BAM, done for the day.

But this post is actually about religion and philosophy, I just used a luring tactic to get you here.

No it's not, I'm bullshitting you, it's about Valentine's Day and giant vaginas (giant vaginae?), your mom's two favorite things!

GOTCHA!

Best movie title EVER.

First of all, fuck Valentine’s Day, fuck Saint Valentine and fuck his mother with a big black dildo.

Now that we’ve gotten those pleasantries out of the way, let me point out that Valentine’s Day falls on a Tuesday this year, which in the interest of big business, I personally feel is fucking retarded given that it’s a made up Holiday specifically created to generate revenue for those types of stores that overprice their holiday bullshit like Hallmark and any drug or convenience store that sells stupid ass special occasion cards.

You can SOMEWHAT appreciate the holiday if you live in some of the bigger cities, where it only benefits the Mexican peddlers selling flowers and shitty teddy bears on the streets, and you are a Mexican flower and shitty teddy bear seller, then it’s a rocking good day.

Those guys are cool, I guess, but fuck them too, for the sake of hating Valentine’s Day entirely.

Fuck you and your meager earnings!!!

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not some cheapskate or disgruntled and bitter dude who got shafted every Valentine’s Day (yes I am), I just hate forced shit.

I can’t stand doing things just because you are obligated to do so or because everyone else is doing it, fuck that noise, and nothing is more forced and obligatory than Valentine’s Day, well, besides Christmas, but if it weren’t for Christmas, I’d have never gotten shit EVER, so fuck Christmas just a little less, but fuck it nonetheless, as well.

Think about it.

You obligatorily go out on Valentine’s, then what?

Every restaurant you go to is overcrowded and has long wait times for a table.

Movie theaters are jam packed, that means over three times as many black people talking during the film!

Any romantic idea you have in mind is being done by every other fucking human alive at the same time, or they’ve jacked the prices so high that you probably have to suck a dick or two in order to afford it.

Beautiful flower arrangement? Start sucking.

Horse and carriage ride? Start sucking.

The horse, that is, not the jockey.

Fuck that shit, wait until the fifteenth and buy something on sale!

Take your partner out that following weekend with zero holiday bullshit to deal with!

It’s amazing how life changing this whole scenario could be if you’d listen to me.

You changed my life…oh my Gooooooood.

Don’t listen to me though, otherwise your girlfriend will dump you, your wife might fuck your neighbor and your boyfriend is going to cut himself across the chest if you decide to skip this day, so don’t fuck around, go out there and get some God damned candy hearts and roses and pick up some anal lube or you’re going to be in deep shit (or not, wink wink).

So….

Ummmm….

This is the part where I cleverly segue into a discussion about giant vaginas but have no clue how anyone can cleverly do such a thing.

So…..

Unlike men, who cannot wait for the next moment to boast about how big their (usually little) piece is, how come women don't brag about having gigantic vaginas?

Is it not a good thing to have a colossal cooch?

I'm not talking about an "I can fit three dicks in me" vagina; I mean a vagina that can literally engulf a toddler, sucking him back up the way he came like a giant moist vacuum.

A vagina that can hide a beach ball, or shoot out coconuts like some weird cannon.

Is it frowned upon to have a stupendous snatch?

 I’m so touching myself right now.

What has society done to the big pussied woman to force them to go into hiding?

There's no niche porn category for this shit either (not that I've checked), it's like huge vags don't count, like they don't matter at all.

The world has driven all mammoth muffs into some incognito state or reclusive form of living.

I bet there’s an island somewhere in the Pacific where women all over are hiding away from the rest of the world while living ridicule free in a society acceptant of monumental meat curtains.

Skull Island? Also on this island, giant dicks that can fit in them.  

Pornographic movies are reliant upon selling their films with bolded taglines and titles advertising big body parts, BIG COCKS, HUGE TITS, GIANT ASSES, but never, ever; IMMENSE VAGINOSAURS.

They do exist!

Do you want to know why?

Because the amount of money these films would generate is too astronomical for any accountant to manage.

It could potentially crash the computer systems of every bank.

The lucrative nature of these film types would be outrageous.

Money would literally rain from the heavens!

What?

Now that I think about it, now that I’ve sat here, putting the scientific formulas and mathematics together…Do you know what would make Valentine’s Day simply phenomenal?

That’s right, kids….

GIANT VAGINAS.

Fuck yes. I’m so good at problem solving.

Fuck Your Decorative Towels. The Random Thoughts Post.

I couldn't let the year end without one final post, because I already feel super lazy for not posting in a "who the fuck knows?" amount of time, so I thought it'd be a mighty fine idea if I wrapped up 2011 with whatever the fuck is on my mind, regardless of how slim that might end up making this post.

To start things off, as the title implies, fuck your decorative towels.
I go to people's homes around the holidays, drain the pee pee, then wash my hands and realize that there aren't any paper towels or normal fucking human towels to use at all except for those non-absorbent, decoration adorned shitty decorative towels people hang up during parties so we won't assume they hang their smelly shower towels that they rub their balls on around all the time.
Yes, I use them, fuck that shit.
I even give them quite a tug to dry my face and leave them a wrinkly mess because fuck you.
It's your own fault.
How dare you leave me dripping wet like some throbbing cunt, left to drip dry in the cold night air after being teased then shunned by society for being a lady of the night?
Fuck you, you set me up, so I had no choice but to dry myself on your stupid ass towels and I rubbed my face all over Santa's balls and it sucked.
I hate you and I farted and I squished your bar of soap, eat my ass.

YEAH! Fuck your towels!

While on the subject of the holidays; did no one watch any Christmas movies as a kid?
What the fuck does getting an iPad have to do with Jesus?
Jesus got like two out of three bullshit gifts (the gold was the only decent shit, you cheap bastards).
If we valued them in today's currency, it'd be the equivalent of getting those shitty cheap generic wrestling figures from the dollar store as a gift.
Maybe, I'm just basing it on how I would feel if some dickhead got me frankincense for Christmas.
Perhaps it was pricey, but it still sucks.
A piece of shit might cost three hundred dollars but it's still a hunk of shit.
Still, the spirit of this holiday shit is about family and spending time together and getting hand jobs in the bathroom from your woman while the kids are staring at the Yule Log on TV.
Not this nonsense of expecting pricey things I can't afford unless I let homosexuals take pictures of my ass behind the Target over at Mount Vernon (hypothetically).
So fuck you guys for ruining the spirit of Christmas and everything that baby Jesus guy worked so hard to set up.
That dude didn't die so you could have an iPhone, you scumfucks.
If you want to buy me one, though, I won't judge you, but I also won't stop myself from giving you a dirty stare, you blasphemer, you son of a bitch.

That's right, God damn it!

At this time, I'd like to reiterate the fact that I'm not a racist, but fuck foreigners.
You motherfuckers come to my city during the holidays and crowd my trains, my streets, my stores, you don't respect personal space and you smell funny.
Fuck you guys with a bratwurst and a menorah and whatever the fuck you shove up your asses during the holidays, but thanks for your patronage!

F-UCK YOU!!!

Speaking of trains, can New York please create a fucking law that allows the use of special bounty hunters that travel around the subway system collecting and/or killing homeless and crazy people?

This guy's perfect for the job.

These scary and smelly sons of bitches need to be eradicated.
I'm tired of schizos yelling at the air and smelly ass bums sleeping on the seats, god damn it.
I get all the psychos when I travel, too, and nothing like having a fucking bum taking a shit in the train during rush hour.
Fuck those guys, you can kill them, grind them up into a delicious, healthy juice cocktail to serve to the other homeless people who give a damn about themselves and don't go on the trains asking for shit all the time.

Bullshit, I'm not buying it, shoot this bastard.

Please, this law must be passed, it will be a glorious time for NYC, so many bodies piled high.
Kill those guys that sing too, fuck them.


I gotta run, I'm hiding in the corner of a party getting dirty looks for being anti social and a complete asshole.

You motherfuckers behave yourselves, don't smoke any crack in 2012 or suck any dicks you shouldn't.

What Does This Do Mommy? The Sexual Miseducation of Bryan Bronx.

Thinking deeply to myself the other day, which is what I do when you see me on the subway with my lower jaw hanging open, drooling, leaning on someone who may be sitting beside me or rocking back and forth with my eyes closed as the train stops and goes, I realized that out of all my years spent in the New York City public school system, I learned absolutely Jack Shit about anything sex related from the many schools I attended.

Well, we did have a Health Ed class in seventh grade, which was coordinated by one of our gym teachers and was mostly about watching Basketball videos and little girls staring at his piece in his unusually short sweat shorts for forty-five minutes, but other than that, I didn't pick up anything useful in that class, unless by "anything useful" I actually mean "reading Nintendo Power" magazine.

"Nintendo Power"

High School wasn’t any better.

I don't even remember having a Health class, in fact, the only thing I can remember remotely related to Sex Ed was a substitute teacher showing us how to put on a condom on what appeared to be a wooden cock.

I swear to God.

That dude seemed sort of gay and had an insurmountable proficiency at this skill because that cock cover was wrapped around that wooden phallus faster than I can get one off of my own pink and fleshy love pole.

"Pay attention, children, we'll have a hands on demonstration next."

But that was it.

This was the extent of what the school system taught yours truly about sex.

Hell, I didn't even learn about sex organs!

If I didn't watch porn as often as I did, (which wasn't often, fuck you…..twice a day) I'd have never known what any of the sex organs' actual bodily functions and uses really were.

I didn't know tits produced milk only when a woman was pregnant, I assumed they just shot milk like Spider-Man shot webs, whenever, wherever, like bulbous, fleshy super soakers filled with cow juice.

"OH MY GAWD, those cookies are going to taste SO good!"

I always wondered why we even bought milk at stores when any one of my aunts could have just as easily squeezed their chesticles and filled a bowl of my King Vitamin cereal in a swirling white ocean of momma milk.

Why were people starving in Africa if all that was needed was a good pinch on someone's tit to shoot nourishment down the throats of fly covered kids?

What the fuck?

"Africa's messiah."

No one taught me this shit about tits,  I swear to God, I didn’t know anything about tits other than the fact that staring at them made my dick harder than a child molester getting a job at a daycare.

"Now kids, meet your new teacher, who looks totally safe."

I thought the main functions of mammaries were to seduce men and then feed the babies that came from said seduction's consequences.

That's about it.

Sure, one can argue "Haven't you seen a movie? Haven't you seen discovery channel?”

But keep in mind, I didn't have cable until later in life because I was a poor little piece of shit and I've also never seen a movie where the focal point of the plot was about titty milk.

You tell me a movie that focuses on that subject and I'll rush on to Netflix right now and start watching.

Possibly with my pants off, but whatever.

Don't even get me started on vaginas.

You have to what? Get them wet to insert your penis in there?

WHAT?

Since fucking when??

Was there a class I missed here?

"Instructional Vaginal Moistening 101"?

No one told me this shit, I had to discover this on my own by jamming my finger into a vagina and using the poor girl's cringes and screams as my guide to whether or not I've performed an appropriate and successful finger bang.

THEN after the water works began (or blood loss from my haphazardly and aimless dry finger stabbing) and the aforementioned moistening was upon us, that sweet gentle glide area was ready for me to insert items that needed lubrication for easy insertion such as rolled up magazines, mail tubes and anything else I wanted to shove up there in the name of sexual science and sheer curiosity.

Sure, probably my dick too, why not?

But that last point is neither here nor there,  I was one of those kids who'd stick his dick in anything with a hole suitable for it in the name of exploration (my penis is quite the spelunker), so that's a story for another time.

"Yup, you bet your ass I would."

To me, vaginas were just a mysterious, furry, spider looking creature that didn't come with enough instructions for me to understand the concept of one.

There's even a clitoris and a G spot in there somewhere!

Did you know that if you gently rubbed the clitoris, this would stimulate women and subsequently lead them to orgasm?

Me neither!

Holy shit!

When the fuck did anyone mention this?

Not even your parents can teach you this, because it's a touchy subject, too graphic or rather, erotic to explain and makes most parents feel really fucking uncomfortable.

I wouldn't tell this shit to my children, but I'll demonstrate on the cat.

Nah, I'm kidding.

Maybe.

But truly, it's all a game of trial and error and embarrassment.

Also, keep in mind, people won't outright admit half the shit I just admitted to.

Everyone goes through this exact same thing, this sexual confusion, but they try to play it off with a faux confidence and bravado about it, but its all bullshit, they had no idea what the fuck was happening at the time, just like me.

You think most guys know where the G spot is?

Pfffffft.

(I do).

Sex organs are some of nature’s greatest mysteries and will always have a need for discovery since the demand for sharing the knowledge isn't high at all, but only because of the embarrassment factor behind it.

I dare you to ask anyone about the subjects covered here, good luck being a social fucking outcast and a lifelong sexual deviant.

Had I asked anyone such questions, I'd have been ousted and would have become one of those weird guys who only get off when you fist fuck their parakeets while watching Family Ties on blu-ray and you have to jerk them off with a wet sock puppet.

"Felatio?"

I like to think of sexual discovery like a broken game of Operation, at least from the male perspective.

You randomly jam your dick into whatever hole you can find, hoping for victory, but since it's a broken game of operation, your lady friends' nose isn't going to light up and you don't get that scary fucking buzzing noise telling you that Cobra Commander is in the wrong hole.

Though, I'm very thankful it doesn't make that noise because Operation always scared the living shit out of me whenever I fucked up, I couldn't take that pressure during sex, especially first-time sex.

"Now I just insert myself into this hole and.....BUZZZZZZZ! FUCK!"

Penises aren't exempt here, either.

I obviously don't know how it must have been from the female perspective (and I'd love to hear your thoughts on this, ladies) but from my childhood understanding of penises, either a guy’s pecker looked like mine, which was a fully circumcised cruise missile, or a God damned hideously deformed ant eater looking contraption that shot piss out of it whenever it was exposed to light.

Fuck me, I remember the first time I went pee pee time with another dude, we were in an alleyway and both of us whipped out our dicks to piss when suddenly my little buddy points out the differences in our dicks and as I stare at his, I am suddenly filled with a sense of horror and dread and coldness as I bore witness to his little mangled meat and saw the most horrifying piece of flesh I'd ever lay eyes on.

His dick looked like a sick joke made during the Spanish inquisition, it looked like some kind of bait a depraved fisherman would hang off a hook, it looked like an over-boiled hotdog, ACK!  

It was just fucked and awful and I wanted to throw up.

His dick looked like Cell's tail (from Dragon Ball Z) and I assumed it would perform the same functions, swallowing me whole and absorbing my essence with my pants on and everything.

"Fuck! It smells like Feta cheese in here!!!"

I didn't know that there were circumcisions, I assumed there were just normal dicks and abnormal dicks and that my dick was regular and your dick was a motherfucking science accident.

Funny thing is, I later found out that my dick was actually the abnormal one and that the disgusting flesh sheath is what you're born with and my mind was completely and utterly blown away in disbelief.

I then realized that God is a fucking sicko with a deformed penis.

Imagine being a young lady (unless you are one, of course) and having the same frame of mind I did concerning what a penis should look like.

I mean, after all, when you watch most porn movies or look at dick magazines (these exist, right?), men are almost always circumcised, it's not too often you see one that isn't chopped proper in nude media.

So here you are, a young, innocent girl getting frisky with Fast Eddie from downstairs when those hormones start raging and something inside of you tells you that you should put his penis into your mouth because it seems like a good place to start.

He whips out his dick that you're expecting to look like a fire hydrant as you get ready to engulf it and all of a sudden you're confronted by a fucking pants leech.

What do you do?

You freak the fuck out is what you do, unless you're a sick fucking chick who'd suck on anything and it doesn't even phase you.

You also probably love aged cheese.

Personally, I would not put that thing in my mouth, so Eddie over here is going to have the biggest case of blue balls since Papa Smurf.

Sure, being uncircumcised is normal, but so is being born a retarded person and I wouldn't suck their dicks either.

If I was a young lady, I mean.

Shut up.

We have to get our sex know-how shit together, people.

Schools need to get on the ball and get sex education in order because all of this self discovery can't be healthy.

There has to be one crazy son of a bitch out there who is willing to share their knowledge of tits and pussies and horribly disfigured penises with the youth of the world.

Someone who will explain to you why vaginas fart and why some penises lean to the left and why anal sex is frowned upon (but so beloved!).

It's not going to be me, I'm still too embarrassed to buy condoms or titty magazines, I make excuses whenever I have to show someone my non erect penis, so you better look elsewhere for a solid role model, but I will be happy to endorse this individual once he or she steps forward.

Who will save us?

Who will teach those unfortunate souls of the world that farting during a blowjob is bad oral sex etiquette?

Who will tell you that the clitoris is not a god damned arcade game button for you to bash on?

We need the Sex Ed equivalent of Jaime Escalante....

Or we can just hand out more flyers and call it a day, whatevs.

I Will Steal Your Fucking Bike, Spider-man (Super Spectacular Hetero Guest post by Kid Ish)

Got a special post today, from a guest, my heterosexual life mate, Kid Ish.

Unlike me, he's not a complete comic book racist, so read on about the Spigger Spidey.

So the other day, Marvel showed some pictures of Miles Morales, the new Spider-man, to USA Today, the paradigm of virtuous fucking reporting every goddamn day to Denny's patrons. It's totally the most reliable place to connect with your typical, completely racist, fascist, and closed-minded American: anyone living in the middle of the country.

 He looks pretty gay right here, but Marvel assures us: he's just a minority, not an asshole sodomizer. 

So goddamn right, everyone and their mother is online and offline talking about how Marvel is giving white jobs to minorities, those fucking bastards. Affirmative action in our white ego masturbatory fantasies?

Fuck no! We won't stand for it! Even though this looks pretty cool...

Uhhh......

Ahh...better.

Except we totally will stand for it, because we're fucking godless heathens who like to suck each other's e-dicks. I have no idea what this has to do with anything, I think I just really wanted to connect with the readers of this blog.

You know, all totally buttfucking queer.


Anyway. Back to business: the new Spider-man is half black, half Hispanic. Marvel wants me to say half African American, half Hispanic. Since that makes absolute fucking sense, I'm going to call him half black, since on his mother's side nobody fucking cares about Africa, they have a really gay Batman. 

Batwing, the gayest idea since stealing people from their homes for slavery purposes and not sex purposes pfft.

So fuck that place. Right?


Bronx is Puerto Rican you know. Even my computer wants me to correct the spelling of Puerto to like, Roberto, which tells you how important that fucking place is. But his PR-ass is whiter than mine, so you know he's all pissed off that the new Ultimate Spider-man is half not white, like his albino ass.


Where am I going with this?


Fuck you, I like this Miles Morales kid. He totally wouldn't steal my bike.

BRONX'S P.S. -

Bronx's gripe: (This is me, writing on my shit, but on my guest's shit,  because I'm all up in his shit) .

(See yesterday's blog post). 

The only issue I have with a Spigger Spidey is that it seems purposely done to just generate headlines and/or controversy.

I mean, look at his mix, look at his name.

You take a common, yet somewhat sophisticated Black name and a common Hispanic last name and BAM, Obligatory ethnic mashup.

I'm surprised they didn't get even more PC and put him in a wheelchair, or make him gay or have him shoot rays of sunshine from his eyes that brought our soldiers home.

Whatever, I'm just a very hardcore Spidey fan, forgive my skepticism, forgive my rant, proceed.

KEEP MY WHITES WHITE AND MY COLOREDS COLORED, THIS IS AMERICA GOD DAMN IT!