If fashion has taught us anything, it’s taught us that fur is cool.  Now, I know what you’re thinking: does beaver on beaver cancel each other out like two negatives?  The answer is no, beaver on beaver, even faux beaver, always equals more beaver, which is good!  Hell, even side beaver is a sacred thing, in my books that is.

This is my underwear before laundry day

Sure, bushwhacking requires a certain amount of know how, patience, ruthless enthusiasm, and a nose that appreciates the finer stinks: that being said, reward is nothing without sacrifice.  What’s a few hairs stuck in the old gullet when your dick is on bat for the sucking of a lifetime.  What’s a pelvis bashed beak compared to a pelvis shafted penis.  Straight up, fur isn’t murder; it’s padding.

Black Belt Jones in the house, and I’m ‘er to talk to yous about the hungry bum, also known as the bottomless ass and the cornhole of many bites.  This most accommodating of female orifices is infamous for being the black hole of  fuckable cavities, and may very well be a gateway to another mother fucking dimension.  Straight up, a man can lose himself in one of these damn stinks, so don’t say you haven’t been warned.

How do I knows this, you may be axing yourself.  Well, I been trapped inside a hungry bum for the past month, floating around in the rectal ether as it were, my only comfort being that I died the way– (continue reading…)

As you can see from the below picture, the human snatch (scientifically known as the gravely wounded beaver) has countless variations and numerous moods and airs.  Some are happy, some are surly, some are confused, some are surprised, and the list goes on and on.  Their only common denominator is their insatiable hunger for steely cock and fat bundled fingers.

Say Cheese!

Personally, my dick has two expressions: comatose and full-throttle, off and on, that’s it.  But cocks, like their possessors, are simple creatures.  A woman’s slit, as you can see, is an entirely different– (continue reading…)

Seriously!  You could be drilling a hole in the mattress, and depending on the sensitivity of your little feller, not even know it.  Besides, seeing the action as it unfolds before your eyes is half the fucking point.  I don’t know about you, but I like seeing the whites of their eyes as I thrust hard for all that is good and spunky.

Even if it’s in the middle of the night, and you’re going for a rollover-fuck, half asleep, half piss boner, I’m reaching for the lamp with one hand as I lube up Mr. Wake-N-Splat with the other.  It’s just common fucking– (continue reading…)

#7:  If they look firmer than a hard boiled egg dipped in liquid cement, those be fake.

#6:  If they squeak like Sparky’s dog toy, those be fake.

#5:  If they’re perfectly spherical, like a crystal ball wrapped in a condom of skin (see below picture), those be fake.

Is it me, or does her torso look the head of an alien

#4:  If they come with instructions, those be fake. (continue reading…)

When you hit your stride, run with it, let it take you to whatever end it may, odds are it’s gonna be good.  Like this fella here.  In a flash, he turns a nightmare situation, being caught in public with your dick out, into a fucking-the-hottest-girl-in-the-room hilarious happening.

My fellow dudes, learn from this guy’s example: rise to the occasion.  And straight up, apply this maxim to any and all aspects of your life.  Say if you get caught by your wife in– (continue reading…)

You’re hammered, it’s 3am, the bar you’re in is about to turn on the houselights, and you’ve got a hard-on in your pants so fucking ready to go, it’s oozing pre-cum right along side run-of-the-mill cum.  Time to nut up and pick up.  Problem #1: You’re too wasted to act like a normal human being, let alone be charming.  Problem #2:  Most girls in the place have already hooked up, even the less-than-average ones.

Problem #3: Even the ugly and fat chicks are being talked-up; this is what happens when you go to a bar called Lowered Expectations.   Problem #4: Any standards you once had– (continue reading…)

The following is a brief list of sequels that Hollywood should totally make.   With any luck, some studio douche bag will pick-up on this post and get those plagiaristic wheels in motion.

1.  Brokeback Mountain 2: The Fur Traders
Okay, this one is a no-brainer.  Every dude I know—hell, every woman I know too—would so pay to see this film.  Throw in a couple of light sabers, and you’ve got the highest grossing movie of all time, guaranteed.

I can't quit your vagina

2.  The Great Outdoors 2: Zombie Attack! (continue reading…)

BB Jones gonna level wit’ you: I’ve been known to suck my own mother fucking dick.  Hey, when you got a long 13 inches of joy, occasionally you’re gonna put it in your mouth; it reaches, why not.  Der be nothing gay ‘bout servicing yourself.  It be completely natural.  But first things first, lock the mother fucking door.  No one be needing to see dat!

Hopefully that's his wife and not his daughter

Yoga Instructions: $90
Mouthwash: $6 (continue reading…)

I’ve seen a lot of great tats in my day, but this one goes down as the all-time most badass!  What kind of balls does it take to permanently ink a scat cluster fuck on your leg (I think it’s a leg)?  How do explain this to somebody, not that it needs any explaining at all—its meaning is pretty clear: I DON’T GIVE A FUCK!

Mom, I got a tattoo... Don't worry, it's not a skull

I wish I had this person’s mug shot; I’d love to see the face belonging to this courageous soul.  I’m picturing the individual as a dude– (continue reading…)