13 August, 2009

OK, so I forgot about Not Safe For Wednesday.

Yesterday, I got caught up in feeding four cats, washing three loads of dishes, watching two Peter Weller movies, watering a yard full of plants, and taking a dog over to a park to take a shit. Then I had to go to work, so forgive the shit out of me if I don't get you your disturbing porn fix.
Hhoowwever, because yesterday was Wednesday and I'm circumstance's favorite victim, I found myself perusing the prairies of the prurient at my place of employ. Yeah, I was looking at porn at work.

Pictured: As "Safe For Work" as it gets.
Look, we've been over before how this happens to me: One minute I'm looking at a top ten list of the world's most venomous animals, the next minute I'm doing a Wikipedia search for a particular tree frog, the next minute, I'm reading a comic strip about masochistic frog with a cannon penis getting a golden shower from a wood nymph. It's not like I'm actively seeking out porn on the clock.
And besides, it's not like I don't know to hit "Ctrl+Shift+Del" in Firefox. By the way, Kirian, you should probably tell your dad about "Ctrl+Shift+Del", at least for the work computer.
In the course of my travels, ever attempting to stay on the at-least-not-full-blown-porn side of the tracks, I find myself viewing obscure dating sites. One is STD Friends. STD Friends generally caters to the HSV-1 and 2 crowds, along with the HPV and (super depressing) HIV crowds. Fascinated, I check out the Minneapolis STD scene because... Well, I don't know why. Maybe it's like a forbidden fruit thing: You can look but you can't touch, you know? I imagine it's like this:
Chachi 1: "Yo, dude-bro, check her out. Damn she is smokin' hot!"
Chachi 2: "She's got crotch-rot."
Chachi 1: [Silence.]
Chachi 2: "And she's dying."
Well, you know me, I have a darker sense of humor than most people or at least that's what people tell me, so I go looking for a real laugh: Ohio's STD dating scene. That's where I find a woman with the following strikes against her:
  1. She has genital HSV-2.
  2. She has HPV.
  3. She has HIV.
My knee jerk (emphasis on jerk) reaction is to laugh my fool head off, forgetting that this is actually quite a depressing scenario. After all, this woman is dying and is never going to get laid again. Think about that, my little illiterati: I'm sure plenty of us have bemoaned the prospect that we'll never get laid again. In fact, I start talking like that after the first forty eight hours I spend without getting sex. The thing is, though, that we eventually get ourselves out of the dry spell and move on to moaning about some other horrible tragedy to befall us (like not getting laid for two days). This woman is literally never going to have sex again, not unless she finds a guy with the same three STDs. Think about it, if you already have one of those, why compound your problem by throwing more shit on top of it.
Secondly, do you really think she got all three of those and a kid in one shot? Doubtful. That means that she got passed around like a party favor during her "wild youth" picking up this and handing out that. You're going to have to hear all about the psychological damage every day. Believe me, I've dated a childhood molestation victim and a rape victim in my time and dating them is a daunting task, especially when they transpose their repressed rage onto you.
On the bright side, though, there's some asshole out there who never told anyone about his HIV who took advantage of her and walked away with a scorching case of genital herpes.
Anyway, where the hell was I going with all this again? Oh, yeah, how easily I get sidetracked. Because you know what I was looking for? The most pimp movie scene ever. There's this scene in The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the Eighth Dimension where Buckaroo's band, the Hong Kong Cavaliers, get on stage and they're doing their big intro number. Buckaroo Banzai is playing a smokin' (yes, I just used the word "smokin'" twice in the same post) guitar solo, he turns around, turns back around playing a fucking trumpet solo, then sticks his foot out and brings the mic stand to him, stopping everything and asking the audience, "I'm sorry, is somebody not having a good time?"
The audience has no idea what the fuck he's talking about. The band is equally perplexed.
Buckaroo continues, "Is somebody crying?"
And Ellen Barkin as Penny Priddy can be heard sniffling as the crowd parts like the Red Sea to allow a direct line of sight between Buckaroo and Penny. How fucking pimp is that? And you know what? They, don't have footage of that scene. I know. I Google Video'd it. That's some straight bullshit.
Anyhow, I'll remember Not Safe For Wednesday next week.

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