3/28/08

Smooth her with your majestic dremel tool.

I've commented before that some of the spam I get cracks me up -- most of the time it's not really the content of the e-mail that makes me laugh, but it's more about the creative descriptions used in the subject lines. The spammers try to come up with subjects that won't get picked up by simple subject-line filters, but will still be instantly meaningful to the recipient.

To illustrate this point, here's a recent shot of my bulk mail folder:



At first I thought it would be funny to draw cartoons corresponding to these, however I soon discovered that my rudimentary drawing abilities wouldn't really let me do them justice and would inflict a lot of pain and suffering on all of us, so I decided google searches and photoshop might be a better way to go:

1. Release the fire in your crotch



2. Stripping for Pleasure



3. I unleashed my one-eyed monster



4. Consider your male device size



5. Her bath towel fell and I saw this



I'm very, very sorry for that last one.

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3/25/08

Maybe try the ice tongs.

I figured I had seen everything there was to see in the men's room. At least during normal business hours. Apparently this is not the case.

Today, I followed a gentleman into the bathroom and witnessed something completely new to me. In case you were wondering, I followed him by chance, not design. What I mean to say is that I don't make a habit of following strange men into the bathroom just to see what there is to see. I was just going in there to rinse out my coffee cup.* Now that we've cleared that up, on with the story.

He walked in, went directly to the paper towel dispenser, and cranked out a few sheets. It's pretty narrow in there, so I waited for him to grab the paper towels before trying to sneak past him to the sink. Much to my surprise, he didn't take the towels and leave. Nor did he blow his nose, or wipe coffee or ketchup off his clothes, or wet it and wash his face...he did none of those things you would normally expect someone to do with a wad of paper towels.

What he did instead was this: He hung a right and headed toward the urinals opposite the sinks and mirrors, where he proceeded to use the paper towels to take out and hold his junk while he pissed.

First off, if your junk is so fucked up that even YOU don't want to touch it, you might want to look into getting it removed. Or I suppose you could wait a week until it falls off by itself. Either way, I am pretty sure that when you're at the paper towel stage, it's clearly not going to get better on its own.

Secondly, there's the apparent lack of control inherent with this technique. Although he seemed to have it down, there is no way I would be remotely comfortable with it. I think the lack of tactile feedback would adversely affect my aim. It would be like trying to hold a breakfast sausage with an oven mitt. (Obviously, a really big breakfast sausage. Ahem. Anyway.)

I'll admit, when I saw this novel behavior, I was curious. I grabbed some paper towels myself, and -- I am almost ashamed to admit this -- I started drying my coffee cup.

What were you expecting? I'm not an idiot and I had no desire to spend the rest of my day with pissed on clothes. I was just stalling to see what was going to happen next.

I have many theories about this guy and his untouchable member. First I thought maybe he just had an aversion to water, and didn't feel like washing his hands. With the paper towel method, he could avoid touching the festering sores and then just open the door with the paper towel on his way out. Obviously, this would be disgusting, but I put nothing past humans in their natural habitat.

That theory, however, was destroyed soon after it was conceived because when he was done he used the paper towel to zip up, then threw it in the garbage before washing his hands.

Actually, that's pretty much the only theory I had. I still can't figure it out. If anyone has any other bright ideas as to what was going on here, let me know. People are strange, I know that much.

I think I'm going to start donning one of these before I take a piss, just to see what people do.

For more humor you can't touch without a paper towel, check out humor-blogs.com. Even though the Clay Pigeon is no more, there's still lots of good stuff over there every single day.


* [edited] It wasn't the one I was using, for god's sake. I'm much too OC for that. It was a mediocre travel mug that had languished, unused and forgotten, on my desk for a week or so. It had become a disgusting science experiment, and I needed to dislodge the life form from the bottom before I brought it home to be washed. Now you are all making me think I should have just thrown it out. And also making me think I should have skipped this post entirely.

3/13/08

Truer words were never spoken.



You gotta love locally produced commercials.

I've also decided that on a list of the least likely prison nicknames for Eliot Spitzer, "Mr. Happy Crack" would be #1.

ps- it turns out they're not so local after all! Get your franchise now!

3/5/08

Search and Rescue 2008.

I'm going to do something I haven't done in a while -- namely, let Site-meter searches that landed on 15minutelunch dictate my blog entry. Lately, my Site Meter has been letting me down. It seems most of my hits have come from e-mail "unknowns" or actual searches for "15 minute lunch" so there hasn't been much blog fodder from that source. That's not to say the weird folk haven't been out -- just that it's been harder to catch them doing what they do. I still managed to catch a few, which I now present for your enjoyment:

Fantastic Google Searches That Somehow Led People To My Site

castration parties -- I'm going to have to plead ignorance on this one, although I'm thinking that if you're a guy, you've probably never been to one of these before. I base this uneducated guess on the fact that there would be very little reason to attend a second one if the first one was a rousing success. If, however, you are a woman -- I suggest you simply pay extra attention to your calendar and make sure you don't get your parties confused and end up doing something you'll regret at that March of Dimes fund-raiser.

bagpiping porn hairy armpit -- I have no expertise in this particular pornographic sub-classification. You have encapsulated something wonderful in between two things that are horrible, and sent it off into a search engine. I have no advice, save this -- location, location, location. From your stats I can see that you are currently in the U.S. I suggest you look into moving to Scotland, where the odds of encountering naked, hairy arm-pitted women who play bagpipes are probably much greater.

Canadian zoophilia -- I'm not sure if you're just tired of American farm animals and looking for something different, or if you're researching whether or not Canadian farm animals are less apt to kick you in the nads, but again, it's all about location. You'd really have a better shot at finding what you're looking for if you moved to Canada because I've heard they've really tightened up the borders and aren't letting as many sexually active Canadian animals across the border as they used to.

man whore job in NY -- Way to aim high, my friend. Way to aim high.

how to make little hot tubs for frogs -- At first I thought that was a little weird, since I wasn't aware that frogs even desired hot tubs. But then I decided that everybody likes hot tubs (except for maybe lobsters) so I think maybe wanting to know how to make little hot tubs for frogs is normal and fine. However, If you are also giving them seaweed wraps, cucumber facials and full-body massages with happy endings, I think you may have crossed the line into problem territory.

swallowed whole pooped alive -- I think I can help. This is the lesser-known sequel to the popular children's book Everyone Poops. Swallowed Whole, Pooped Alive is a classic children's tale with just the right mixture of danger and intrigue, and a convincing subplot that delicately handles a young boy's coming of age in the 21st century. Also, it's about how he was swallowed whole and pooped alive. So, happy ending. Sort of.

nobody's cooler than you virgil -- well, shit. Welcome home, my friend. Welcome home.

looking for my god clothes -- This is proof of two things. One, God is a guy. Two, he clearly does not do his own laundry.

things to do with a strap on -- Well, I must assume here that you are intimately familiar with all of the normal things to do with a strap-on, and are simply looking for some alternatives. Given that assumption, here are a few new ideas for you:

(1) Wear it to the supermarket and use it to knock the items on your list into your shopping cart.
(2) Use it to see how many onion rings you can carry back to your desk from the cafeteria at work.
(3) Wear it to bed and prop up your book with it. (Or if it's one of those big black ones, clamp the book light to it for better illumination of the pages.)


what to use around your house as a buttplug -- I don't know how or when I became the internet's de facto go-to guy for butt-plug advice, since I'd actually prefer that my o-ring remain a one way street, but here goes -- Stand in the room of your choice and follow this handy flowchart:



broke guy wearing barrel picture --
We just spent 600 bucks on our car and it's still raining inside my house, so give me a few weeks and I'll be able to help you out with the picture. It's gonna cost you though.

3/2/08

CBH World Tour 2008.

Sorry. It had to be done.



I love cafe press,* even though their stuff costs too much.

Unleash the Rock.

*updated, for your pleasure.

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