First Time Babysitting Insight

I think it's just awful when parents think they have the right to shave their infant's pubic region. I mean, it makes them look like goddamn porn stars! It is a rotten, rotten world we live in.

Haiku of the Day: Black and White Redheads are Still Pretty Amazing

My Kindle and I
We're growing closer as friends
Jacked off to E-ink.

I'm so used to going incognito that I totally forgot clearing your browser history was still a thing. Thank you Kloe Kane!

Why I Don't Need a Smartphone

It's simple: why would I need a way to go online on the go, when I can't beat off on the bus? I mean, I suppose one could find a use for a portable porn machine in a public restroom or something, but I'm a urinal guy and not a stall guy, so things could get pretty awkward pretty quickly.

My dear, beautiful Gigi, I would gladly buy a hundred stupid overpriced phones if you'd only return to the business

See also: Why I Don't Need a Smartphone, Part II.

As pointless as a man with red hair

This week I went to see The Adventures of Tintin: The Secret of the Unicorn, and even though it was kinda fun and the visuals were pretty great and some of the action sequences were really cool and Andy Serkis was AMAZING (as usual) as a big-nosed captain, unfortunately Tintin is the world's greatest non-character, the story wasn't that interesting, the 3D was sort of lame and I still don't get the point of making a Tintin movie in motion capture animation. The way I see it, if you have access to that kind of technology, the first thing you do is make a movie that takes place in an exotic, far away place like Mars or Alpha Centauri or Pandora, and then populate it with all sorts of dragon-like creatures and hordes upon hordes of smoking hot alien chicks with silky green skin and gorgeous faces and fuzzy, wiggly antennas and boobs so pointy they can slice a tongue in half. Instead of going the logical way, for some reason The Adventures of Tintin is about a bunch of dudes doing stuff in a boat, and then some more stuff in some sort of sand country. No aliens, no dragons, no boobs. I mean, I know Hergé was kind of a dick when it came to women, but come on! And that wasn't even the most troubling part of the movie: could someone please explain to me what a bestiality joke is doing in a Tintin movie?! Personally, I would absolutely love to see more English-speaking animated films aimed at adults, but in a movie that goes out of its ways to be kid-friendly, a line about sheep fucking just felt completely out of place. The Adventures of Tintin was enjoyable enough to watch, but the whole thing felt like such a tragic waste of time, money, talent and technology that I don't know if I can trust Steven Spielberg anymore. I think his next movie is about a Nazi-killing horse or something, so maybe that would be kind of cool. Maybe.

And since there aren't any hot chicks in The Adventures of Tintin, here is a photo of the lovely Alexandra Breckenridge, who does an incredible job playing the sexy young version of Frances Conroy in American Horror Story! 

In other news: I finally got to watch A Serbian Film, and to be perfectly honest I thought that the infant porn scene actually made a lot of sense. I mean, think about it: why should an infant's first encounter with adult genitalia be exclusive to vaginas? Right? Think about it. I dare you.

Attack of the Ehs from Outer Space

Yesterday I went to see World Invasion: Battle Los Angeles, a military/alien invasion movie filmed entirely in Shaky Cam, and I guess it was sort of OK, in a completely lame and unexciting way. I can't say I remember much of the plot, but I don't think there was much of it to begin with. Plenty of nice explosions though! Other than that, the characters were boring, the dialogs were laughable, the action was the kind that doesn't really let you know what's going on, and there was just way too much military stuff and not nearly enough alien stuff to please my little pulsing E.T. finger. I mean, I have bravely managed to stay awake throughout the entire thing, and I still don't have any idea what the aliens' faces look like, or if they even have any! And as if to make matters even worse, there was virtually no ass to be seen anywhere! To illustrate my point, here is a photo of a seriously adorable young lady suggestively holding two phallus shaped vegetables, something this movie was tragically short of:

Oh Tabetha, why did you have to go and get your teeth straightened?

And no, Michelle Rodriguez holding a big ol' dusty gun doesn't quite cut it. She may be great at playing the tough chick, but cute she is not. In short, if World Invasion: Battle Los Angeles is going to get any sequels I'd probably go see them too, because I'm a sucker for alien movies, but I'm pretty sure I'm not going to like them much either. I'm just retarded that way.

Knock on the sky, listen to the sound

Today I went to see Tron: Legacy and found that it is easily the best thing the good evil people at Disney have produced in the last 70 years, which shouldn't really say much, but it totally does! I mean, sure, the CGI Jeff Bridges looks like it was animated by Pixar (that's not a good thing) and the 3D wasn't all that impressive, but other than that it was the best movie I've seen all year that wasn't Scott Pilgrim vs. the World. The visuals are breathtaking, the action scenes are fantastic, the story is very cool and sort of dark (in a PG sort of way), both simple and complex and never too stupid or boring, just like one would expect from a script written by the guys who wrote and produced most of Lost, and if you're a fan of Daft Punk or of cool music in general then you're in for a treat, because the movie's score is one of the best ones I have ever, ever heard. The acting was OK too, in the sense that I was never really offended by any of the actors' performances. I even finally get now why everybody always says Olivia Wilde is so hot! It took quite a drastic makeover, and it's not like I'm going to start watching House now, but I definitely wouldn't mind playing Hide the Cocktail Weenie with her. Tron: Legacy is everything the original Tron wanted to be but couldn't and so, so much more, and I'm definitely going to see it again as soon as I at least partially recover from the effects of the explosive audio-visual orgasm that this movie is. Oh, and speaking of the original Tron, I watched it again a few days ago to prepare myself for the new movie and I think that all things considered it still holds up pretty nicely, and that the reason that the CGI sequences in it are so, well, ugly, isn't the limitations of '80s technology, but the fact that it was created by '80s computer geeks who may or may not have been color blind. It was the '80s after all, a time in history when color blindness seemed to be a global epidemic. I just hope that the new movie's merchandise that's going to be available online now will be nothing but boring, useless crap, otherwise my poor little credit card is going to be in big, big trouble.

Olivia Wilde looks even nicer as a freaky cyber organism!

So, anyway, I was watching this obese, middle-aged woman with no clothes on sucking on a chubby dude half her age on live webcam this morning, when suddenly it hit me: I really need a girlfriend. Sigh.


And here is a bonus haiku, based on a true story:

I saw this biker
Who looked just like Jek Porkins
I was left speechless

A very late vacation post... with hookers!

Last month I went on an eight day visit to Hamburg, as a guest of the senate, and it was so totally friggin' awesome that I very nearly wet myself when it was time to get back to the smelly, lint-filled belly button of the Middle East. Every large European city I've ever been to is pretty and cool and interesting in its own way, especially when you compare it to the sun-scorched cultural semi-desert I usually inhabit, but the city of Hamburg, with its gorgeous maritime glory and unadulterated free-for-all sleaze, really does take the giant slice of warm apfelstrudel with a couple of scoops of vanilla ice cream on the side.

I'll start with the obvious: German chicks are just too lovely for their own good. It was an absolute thrill to be around so many attractive young ladies who were so terrifically out of my league that it wasn't even remotely funny. Well, maybe just a little. Everywhere I'd look there were always at least one or two members of the female persuasion whom I would have been more than happy to bang deeply, had I been about 40 years younger. In just eight short days I've managed to accumulate enough masturbatory material in my head to last me a lifetime, or at least until the end of the Hebrew year. Our group was accompanied by these two student chicks who were just as cute as the proverbial button, and I even got to touch one of them! Twice! I mean, sure, they were just friendly handshakes, but I was still pretty damn excited. I can only hope that one day I'd be able to gather enough courage to be rejected by a genuine German chick, and then I could finally die a happy dork.

A cute German chick enjoying a light meal by the water, completely unaware of the creepy stalker standing right behind her

German teenagers lying face down on the ground. Is there anything more arousing?

Boobs.

More boobs.

Even more boobs!

And a little something for the ladies

The main sleaze attraction in Hamburg is of course the Reeperbahn in the St. Pauli quarter, a street chock full of sex shops, sex clubs and even a red light district type of place just around the corner, bringing you anything from designer dildos and vintage pornography to steamy lap dances and daytime €100 blowjobs from high-class prostitutes as old as your mom! I've only visited Herbertstraße (that's where the nice ladies who take it up the bum for cash live) during the day, so I'm guessing the hookers I got to see sitting by those windows weren't exactly the city's finest, but they were all nice enough to try and invite me inside. They even called me 'mein Herr'! I thought it was very kind of them to notice my particular gender like that and not throw rotten eggs and bags of pee at me, the way they normally would at any non-professional female who'd be courageous and/or foolish enough to enter their domain. Too bad you can't take any pictures in there, because I could've spent literally hours looking at their photos back at home and not using them in any kind of way!

Danger! Free range hookers beyond these gates!

There's no wonder why I came back here about 20kg heavier, as I did eat like a slobbering pot belly pig the whole time I was in Hamburg. They kept feeding us and offering free booze, so really, how could I possibly resist? I mean come on, the hotel we stayed at had free friggin' champagne at breakfast! And at the official lunch at the Rathaus there were these nice old waiters whose only job was to refill our wine glasses! And the beer was absolutely fantastic, unlike anything I've ever tasted before. My favorite was Franziskaner Weissbier, which is by far the best tasting beverage I have ever had the pleasure of getting drunk on that has a picture of a Christian dude on the label.

An adorable pot belly pig at Wildpark Schwarze Berge

The Rathaus

Inside the Rathaus, where we had lunch

Just enjoying a nice cool beer and watching the World Cup like a regular human male

Having a quince flavored Bionade at Hagenbeck Zoo. That's what the German astronauts drink in outer space!

This little thing, eaten on a really fancy boat ride, probably cost me about 5kg alone

On Friday they took us to the local synagogue, which was as thrilling an experience as anyone could have not doing anything for an hour except standing up and sitting back down on cue. I also got yelled at by a group of scary old dudes with big bushy beards and funny hats for taking this photo here outside after the service, even though it wasn't technically shabat yet! People who believe that the world was created by an angry grandpa who lives on a cloud up in the sky and spies on them when they go to the bathroom can sure be silly sometimes.

Take THAT, every rabbi who was ever mean to me in school!

Sadly, Jewish cemeteries in Israel are never this creepy

We were also invited for a night at the theater at the expense of the German tax payer, which meant going to see a stage production based on a Disney cartoon, in German. I ended up liking it so much that as soon as I got back home I downloaded the original animated version in HD, even though a bluray edition isn't even available yet. I especially liked it how they incorporated the legendary lion sex scene back into the special edition of the movie, as it was originally intended to be shown. Sure, it can get a little graphic for the younger viewers, especially when Simba has finally managed to ejaculate inside his girlfriend and is having trouble pulling out (boy, those animators sure did their research!), but I think it adds a lot of much needed humor to the film. Besides, as any pedo would be happy to tell you, kids can handle a lot more than most people would guess, and I don't think anybody ever got seriously damaged from watching kitties hump.

König der Löwen at Theater im Hafen

Extremely endangered animals at Hagenbeck Zoo

A black dude humping a giraffe in front of Hagenbeck's

Tonight's entertainment choices: Avatar and hardcore German

porn. This gets very close to my idea of heaven on earth

I was pretty bummed out when I had to say my goodbyes to the beautiful city of Hamburg, especially with how all the Israeli women on the flight back home looked like horrible green ogres in comparison to the German variety, but I'm definitely going to visit it again in the future, and hopefully by the time of my next visit I'd be man enough to walk up to one of the more passable-looking ladies on Herbertstraße, pay the required fee in crisp €100 bills and then run for my dear life as soon as she takes off a single article of clothing. I yam what I yam after all.

You're cute, I could just eat you alive!

Today I watched Zombie Strippers, a zombie comedy starring former burn victim Robert Englund and former chick who lets strange dudes stick it to her on camera for cash Jenna Jameson, and I very much enjoyed it, even though on many level it's pure crap, and not always in a good way. In the near future George W. Bush wins a fourth term at the White House (the movie was made before Will Smith took over) which plunges America into a bunch of wars with several Middle Eastern countries and at some point even with Canada, apparently because W. wants to get his grubby little hands on all that delicious maple syrup the mean Mounties have been sitting on all those years. He also makes public nudity illegal, probably in order to gain some sort of control over those two little whores who call him daddy (gawd, I wish I had a little whore who'd call me daddy, preferably one I wouldn't be related to). The problem is, there are way too many wars and not nearly enough American soldiers to fight them. The obvious solution? A genetically engineered virus that turns people into zombies! You shoot down an American soldier in the battlefield and he just shakes the bullets off and keeps going, twice as ugly and unburdened by any of those pesky human distractions like a pulse or a soul! This obviously leads to some sort of breakout, and a special forces dork who got himself infected with the zombie virus ends up at this sleazy and highly illegal strip club that's full of disgusting horny slobs and "hot" chicks with big plastic boobs who look like they'd be happy to pleasure you in a back room for a price while wearing a blank expression on their semen-weary faces and then cry about it in the shared bathroom. After the zombified dork bites the head stripper's throat open she dies and turns into a zombie herself, but the cool thing is that in no way does it stop her from doing her job. On the contrary, as a reanimated corpse she's a better stripper than ever, wilder and sexier and way more bloodthirsty. The slobbering customers can't help but throw all their slimy, crumpled dollar bills at her, even though everybody know how a private lap dance from a zombie usually ends, and now all the other strippers in the joint want some of that sweet zombie virus too, which leads to more onscreen undead stripping and even more fun, gory zombifications! Now, this isn't a good movie in any way, but it's so much fun that you never even begin to care, especially once all that cool gore and various boobs start flying around the screen. The occasional CGI shots usually stink pretty bad, but the practical and makeup effects are absolutely stunning throughout, from the zombie makeup and bite wounds to the more elaborate effects like punching a hole through someone's stomach or ripping some dude's jaw clear off his face, a nasty bit that's always been one of my favorite ways of facial mutilation in horror movies. That's also probably where all the film's budget went to, because in every other way the production values here are pretty bad, which is something I would have probably payed a lot more attention to if they hadn't kept throwing all that naked undead flesh at me. I did manage to notice how the acting, if you insist on calling it that, was ridiculously awful, but, well, you get the point. I just didn't care. It's gory, sleazy and simply loads and loads of fun, and to expect anything more is just plain dumb. To paraphrase something that a wise person has told me once, boobs are like zombies are like cheese. They make everything better.

If you think Jenna Jameson looks scary here, scroll down a little

Jenna Jameson will always be the porn goddess of my teenage years, and it truly saddens me to see what's become of her physically in recent years. Don't get me wrong, she still looks pretty damn hot in Zombie Strippers, giant plastic boobs and giant plastic lips and all, but recent photographic evidence says otherwise. Oh well. We'll always have those legendary multi-angle videos of her from the late '90s, when her talent was at its peak. Those wonderfully ill-compressed gems of early internet porn have gotten me through some pretty difficult times in the past, and I'm sure they'll serve me just as well in the future.

Jenna Jameson's charred remains

We get it, you have a perineum

Today I finished watching the third season of Californication, and the last episode was sort of a downer, but also really good. The season was mostly about Hank trying to juggle the many many women in his life, and his ultimate failure to do so. In addition to Karen and their teenage daughter there were three different chicks, all three of which he was banging quite happily. There was the dean's wife, who was pretty much your basic posh British broad, very polite and very attractive and very classy. She also kept trying to get into Mr. Moody's pants in an extremely charming and English way in order to get back at her dean husband who kinda looks like that Jewish guy from The O.C. and at one time had supposedly banged some student chick. There was also Hank's teaching assistant, which was a character I didn't get at all. I mean, I'm pretty sure I've seen her playing the mother of a teenager in Roswell like ten years ago, so now I'm supposed to believe she's a desirable woman in her early thirties? Pfft. And what's the deal with the boob-double? Even if her own aren't nice enough, or if she simply didn't want them exposed on camera, we don't really need to see some anonymous woman's bare torso, do we? Not much point in that. Finally, there was Hank's voluptuous student, played by Susan Sarandon's daughter, which I guess would make her Tim Robbins' half sister or something. I liked her better in Saved, where she had short dark hair instead of long blonde stripper-hair. Pretty awesome boobs though. It really annoys me how most strippers on TV get to keep their tops on the entire time, so this was a welcome surprise. Anyway, Hank did a crap job at sleeping with all three of them while the mother of his child was out of town, and it all blew up in his face in a pretty entertaining way. The final episode, however, was all about his little indiscretion from the first episode of the first season, a little over two years ago. He got beat up and arrested and yelled at, and all because of this one little time he accidentally slipped the ol' noodle into a very mature 16 year old girl, played by the little girl from The Nanny, who had since managed to grow herself a pair of absolutely magnificent breasts. He didn't even know she was underage! Like any middle aged man could ever say no to that, had the opportunity presented itself to him. Poor Hank. Not to mention Becca's confession near the end of the episode, which gave me a pretty awful flashforward to when my own future daughter (who will never actually exist) will tell me that she let some greasy disgusting asshole into her innocent little peepee. Poor old Hank. Oh well. Californication has already been renewed for a fourth season, so I guess that in about nine months his hangover should be starting to subside.

Madeline Zima. Bitches be crazy

And speaking of tragedies involving attractive young women. There's this one porn chick that I really really like, though I should probably say used to like, even if I really don't want to. She was a gorgeous little thing, with flowing red hair and the prettiest, tiniest little vagina you'd ever see on a legal caucasian girl. She was Jewish and not at all shy about it, she mostly just did solo and girl on girl stuff, and according to her MySpace page she was a pretty interesting and not too unintelligent person, the kind you'd actually want to have a conversation with before she gives you a sloppy handjob behind a dumpster in some dark alley. Well, I guess she still is most of these things, only according to recent photos of her posted last week, these days she looks more like an x-ray of a methhead with a couple of oranges bolted to her chest under the skin. Why do these young women do that to themselves? Is it so hard to not wear any clothes for a living that you have to turn to hard drugs? I mean, she's only in her early twenties, and she already looks like she's had more spunk pumped through her than me. I really do hope she gets better soon. What a fraking tragedy. Um, yeah. I've finally started watching Battlestar Galactica.

Just suppose

OK, suppose, just suppose, that there's this actor you really really like. I mean, really like. And suppose you like him so much, that you want to see more movies or TV shows that he's been in. The problem is, you have no idea how to find that kind of stuff. See, you don't even know his name, or anything about him for that matter. You just know what he looks like, and that he's awesome, and that you'd like to see more of him. Suppose you've only seen him once or twice, under such conditions that there's nothing that be used to reveal any more details about him, and that it happened years ago. But oh no, you haven't forgotten about him, not even a little, not even a decade later. Every once in a while you still reflect on those memories of him from long ago, and smile to yourself. One day I shall see him again, you tell yourself, holding onto a couple of old photos of him you've managed to keep around all this time, photos that are completely untraceable. Years go by, and still there's no sign of him. Suppose you very nearly lose all hope, until one day, while flipping through the channels on your TV, you come across a scene in a movie or a TV show in which this lost actor is playing alongside another actor, one that you also know and like, and this being late 2009, you use your moderately efficient googling skills and finally find out what his name is, how old he is, and pretty much anything else you've been dying to find out since like forever! Now you can watch pretty much anything he's ever been on, enjoying his entertaining style of acting, his fascinating facial expressions and pleasant speaking voice as long as you shall live! And you don't even mind that weird little mole on his butt! It's not like you get to see much of it anyway, it's only visible when he's bending over or lifting his legs up so you could see his full anus and VJ, and there's so much more of him to like than just that, way more! Oh, happy days are finally here again!

Now, suppose all that happened to you, sort of, with just a few minor changes. Wouldn't that be so friggin' cool you could just explode???

HD stinks. Sometimes.

Since my ADSL connection was upgraded to 2.5Gb/s, I've been downloading more and more content in HD. Most of it looks pretty awesome, but there's one area that seems to suffer from this evolution in home video technology. When Blu-ray and HD-DVD (may its soul rest in peace) were introduced a couple of years ago, there was an outrage in the pornography industry. At the time it seemed pretty silly to me, but now that I've had several experiences with high definition pornography I'm sorry to say that the fear was completely justified. Disregarding realistic amateur content (among other sick stuff I have absolutely no interest in), the porn industry is all about selling fantasy to the homely masses. It's all about highly attractive people, engaging in highly attractive sexual acts. And HD ruins it all. See, the one thing we don't want to know is that porn actresses are real people. Because real people are made of flesh and skin and bones. They have skin imperfections. Pimples. Rashes. Scars. Infected wounds. Moles. Indentations from leaning on the wrong thing. Unsightly hair, as well as stubble in awkward places. Acne scars. Evidence of piercing gone wrong. Stretch marks. Teeth that aren't all that perfect. Under-eye bags. The list goes on and on. In standard definition video you can't really see most of these problems, and in high resolution still photos they can all be easily fixed, but HD always gives you the truth, the kind you can't even cover with makeup. And what's the point of watching someone having sex on your screen if they're just as human, just as flawed as you are? The image below is a full resolution partial capture from a 720p source. One can only imagine what it must look like in full HD, which is twice as detailed. I think I'm going to lay off HD porn for the time being. I'd like my favourite porn chicks to remain the goddesses that they are, at least in my mind. Virtually no one is as dear to me as they are, and I'd like to keep it that way. Why is that, you ask? Stay tuned after this extremely sexy image to read an example of why I've given up on living, breathing human females a long time ago.

An incredibly hot chick's left ass cheek

There's this farmers' market by the beach here that I like to go to, but I haven't been there in over three months. Yesterday we went and bought a bunch of stuff, like persimmons and figs and purple carrots and a pitaya. The two things I like most about the market is the beer stand and the hummus stand. The beer comes from a little local brewery and is very good and makes me sort of happy, at least for a short while, and the hummus comes from a little organic restaurant, and it's literally the best hummus I have ever had inside my mouth. So I'm at the hummus stand, asking for a "large" container of hummus from the adorable little chickiepoo who sells it. I've seen her there maybe two or three times before, but those were all over three months ago. I remember that the last time I was there she had offered me a taste of the hummus on a little piece of pitta, but I declined the offer (because her job entails handling money, which is filthy, which means her fingers are usually pretty dirty too), which I immediately regretted, because how often do I get to eat something touched by such a pretty, cool-looking young woman? So yesterday she's getting some hummus into the container (I couldn't help noticing how she placed her finger inside the container before filling it, which was both thrilling and disgusting) when suddenly she asks me a question. The question was, do I reheat the hummus at home (they serve it warm, fresh from the pot). My first response was, no, I'm eating it right here, by the water. As I felt that this statement made me sound both fat and lonely, I immediately corrected myself and said that "*we're* eating it here". This was obviously a total lie, and I'm pretty sure it made me seem even sadder. Then I asked, why, is there a problem with reheating it at home? To which she replied, no, there isn't, I've just noticed how you've been buying here hummus regularly and wondered what you do with it, because a lot of people think you can't reheat it at home. Then I took a couple of plastic forks (when all I really needed was one) and left. This very brief encounter has charged me up for quite a long time. I know that having the appearance of a connection with you customer is the basis of good salesmanship and that it didn't mean anything, but I couldn't get over the fact that I had had something that was sort of like a conversation with an attractive young female, who has actually noticed and remembered me, which for me is a pretty incredible scenario. I wish I could have said something cool like "hey baby, could you please tell me your name, so that later when I'm thinking about you while I'm masturbating in my single bed I'll know what to mumble happily?" On the other hand, I'm pretty grateful that I can't actually say stuff like that out loud to another person. So given my basic lack of social skills when it comes to people of the female persuasion, anyone can clearly see that getting an actual girlfriend, the kind you can take out to a movie and touch and fight with, is just not something I'm capable of. Anyway. Here's to you, cute hummus girl. In my stupid little world, you definitely get this week's "Gawd I Wanted to Bang Her" award.

Yum!