You’d figure with all the protein in there, a bellyful of spunk would be a good lean-muscle builder.  Apparently, it’s not.  Apparently, it a calorie a tadpole.  Just check out Brittney here.  I think she’s swallowed one too many times.  All kidding aside, Photoshop, you never cease to impress me.

Yeah, I’d still hit it!

Yep, this could be Brittney in twenty years if she keeps pounding back those Martinis and cum-filled schlongs–not that a little weight wouldn’t look good on the girl!  Hell, I think most women could use an extra twenty lbs in the truck and on the chest.  To quoth the immortal Sir Mix A Lot, “Make ‘em Round.”  My good friends, that where I stand.  Take yours!

Photoshop, you are a cruel mistress!  But I accept that ‘cause the alternative is unthinkable!  Yes, science is pretty badass these days, but I don’t think we’re at the point where we can forge perfect dicks out of thin air and attach them seamlessly to hot young babes.  Or at least, that’s what I hope.  I’m too old to feel confused.

Block the thought from your brain! Block it now!

Yes, the future holds some terrifying possibilities, both awesome and unsettling.  I imagine we’ll see this kind of shit in our lifetime, the total blurring of the genders at a biological level.  What diverse gangbangs will herald the Age of Aquarius! What wonders!  What troublesome feelings!

Life is short, women are hot: you might as well bang as much beaver as you can while you have the chance.  It makes perfect sense to me, and as modus operandi go, living life as if you had two swinging dicks instead of a paltry one, is a winner in my books.  Trust me one this one, fellas.

You'll need one of these too

At this point, you may be asking yourself: how does one acquire an extra penis without being gay?  It’s simple.  Don’t be so fucking literal.  Also, just make the choices that a man with two or more healthy cocks would make.  For example, no two-dicked man is going to be satisfied merely– (continue reading…)

Okay, granted, you and Shia are part of Hollywood’s sinister conspiracy to systematically ruin my generation’s cherished childhood memories.  And yes, you can’t act worth a damn.  But I’m willing to overlook these glaring faults in light of your boobs and ass and that bitch nose.

What's, like, over there?

Yeah, you can tell she’s a total cunt, that behind her flirty smile is a venomous nag about to break your balls over nothing.  I called this truism the first time I saw her face.  I said to myself, “Now here’s an evil twat who gonna fool the entire world into believing she’s Betty from next door.”  And my predication– (continue reading…)

From E.T. to rehab, to her eventual comeback, to directing and producing, the life of Drew Barrymore has been one wide ride, but still, something in missing from her story: namely my index finger in her pussy.  That’s right, nothing adds that extra dimension to a Wikipedian biography than being finger-fucked by yours truly.

I'm pretty cute

Okay, now the above picture is a photochop, albeit a good one, but a fake nevertheless.  The real Drew beaver shots either do not exist or are– (continue reading…)

Not all photochops are created equal, the below pic being on one side of the spectrum, your girlfriend’s face inserted on a cat’s body being on the other side.  Obviously, someone put a lot of work in this Paris cut and paste job, even had the comedic sense to put the Eiffel Tower in the backdrop.  Yep, this rip is practically flawless to the untrained eye; its perfection being its only give away.

I hate you... but yeah, I'd still do you

Sure, Paris is one spoiled bitch who deserves whatever hellish retribution she’ll get in the afterlife, and personally I can’t stand the cunt: that being said, I’d still put my dick in her mouth and blow uber– (continue reading…)

It’s possible now to do practically anything you want to a photo without being one of those computer whizzes. If you can figure out how to use email, you can photochop Jessica Alba’s head on any random naked body, as seen below, and have realistic results. Now the question is: Can your dick tell the difference?

Keep on making awful movies, Alba, and we’ll be seeing the real thing before long

What I’m really talking about here is the Mind/Cock relationship; particularly, where does one end and the other begin.  Personally, I’m all Cock; my intellect has nothing on my loins.  Alba could– (continue reading…)

This is an age-old question, and philosophers and saints alike have mused its perplexity, divining little or nothing from their cerebral labors. I, on the other hand, have had some success coming up with a few kernels of wisdom on the subject matter.

Sign #1: She’s holding a sign, like the girl featured above.  (This picture has not been photoshopped.  “Cocks” just so happens to– (continue reading…)

Am I seeing things or does that tree not only have a big dick, but has a lower, smaller dick fucking the bigger dick’s balls?  This isn’t a photochop, people.  You are actually beholding one helluva experimental, self-fucking maple.  Mother Nature, I always knew you were a dirty bitch!  Good on ya.

Now you’ll think twice before reaching for that Maple Syrup

I wonder what the trees neighboring this tree think: fuck, dude, get a room; we’re, like, right here, man; if I wasn’t rooted I’d be all over that!  Whatever the– (continue reading…)