SWM Desperately Seeking Livestock

First, a word from our sponsor:

For those expecting a reveal of the Dead Pool winner, we must disappoint. The crack staff at wojr.com are, in between hits of crack, still tabulating the Dead Pool results as well as confirming the mortal status of literally tens of celebrities. The winner will be announced right after we finish our own predictions for last year’s Dead Pool.

Now, back to our regularly scheduled extremely delayed blog post:

Whatever happened to dowries?

You bright readers know what a dowry is – "the money, goods, or estate that a wife brings to her husband at marriage."

Back in the day, men used to reap the benefits from marriage. Our forefathers got mad paid, yo. I do realize that there’s been a sexual revolution since then and everyone's equal now. I watch the WNBA, so I know about women's rights. However, a majority of ladies do prefer to date the financially secure aka a "breadwinner". In this day and age, many members of the female gender want to find a man to support them so they can kick back, pop out some kids and become obsessed with daytime television. Thinking otherwise is like believing Dog the Bounty Hunter doesn’t drop the N-bomb on a daily basis. It's just naïve, playa.

However, nowadays, all men can hope for in terms of a dowry are the wedding gifts; some dining set that is considered too "nice" for regular meals or, better yet, enough monetary gifts to hopefully cover the cost of a hundred chicken dinners, a few hours of open bar and the videographer that apparently was obsessed with the bride’s plunging neckline. Seriously, we are doing a bang up job of protecting the sanctity of marriage, but I digress...

Dowries. I bring them up because I’ll be hanging out with Aunt Jane this weekend. In terms of conversation topics with Jane, all you need to be is single and beyond your twenties to predict what she’ll want to talk about. You don't even need to be related to her to hear words like "marriage", "children", "not", "getting" and "younger" repeatedly. The best defense to this line of interrogation is a quick funny that will be inappropriate enough to force her to change the subject.

Thus, my planned rejoinder to her queries is that "I'm holding out for dowries to make a comeback. Get me a homestead and her dad’s best cow for my trouble. Hey, I just want my forty acres and a mule like any other brotha."

While I’m worried that "reparations" humor might go over my aunt's head, I like comparing "dating in your thirties" to being a carpet bagger. Dealing with the shell-shocked and battle-scarred at an unwelcoming place that you never imagined yourself going. That’s dating in your 30s in a nutshell.

So, in closing if you have any video of brides with awesome cleavage or doing strange things to livestock, feel free to for them to hatemail at wojr dot com.

wojr

Labels: Advice, DeadPool, Sex, woj

  ¶ 1:42 PM 1 comments links to this post   

  But Wendy and Marvin Totally Got It On (or The Second Post This Week Featuring Bestiality)

Here’s my random thought of the day, but it’s a good one:

I think the Wonder Twins got their powers so they couldn’t fuck each other.

If you have no idea who the Wonder Twins are, here is something stolen from wikipedia:

The [Wonder Twins] made their debut in The All-New Super Friends Hour. Zan and Jayna are siblings from the planet Exxor (also spelled Exor) who were being informally trained by the superheroes. Unlike their predecessors, Wendy Harris and Marvin White, this pair was able to participate in combat with abilities of their own. Their powers were activated when the twins made physical contact together with the spoken command, "Wonder Twin powers, activate!” (In the comics, it was revealed that this phrase was unnecessary, just a habit of theirs.) They bear a strong resemblance to Donny and Marie Osmond, who had a hit tv show at the time of their first appearances. Their appearance is somewhat reminiscent of Vulcans from Star Trek, with pointed ears and similar haircuts. As they were about to transform, they would each announce their intended form. For example, Zan would announce, "Form of a glacier!"

Their powers were:

* Zan can transform into any form of water, including liquid, mist, steam, or, perhaps most usefully, any kind of functioning ice structure. Also, at one time, he changed into a gelatinous form. By combining with already-existing water, Zan could also increase his mass or volume in the water form chosen. In addition, he could transform himself into weather patterns involving water, such as a blizzard, a monsoon, or a typhoon.

* Jayna can transform into any animal, whether real, mythological, indigenous to Earth or to some other planet, like Beast Boy. She did need to know the name of the animal in order to assume its form, as she would turn into whatever animal she named.

So, here we have twins, a brother and a sister, from another planet. Now assuming their alien physiology mirrors ours in terms of genitalia, thus making their incestuous intercourse possible, their powers wouldn't allow it. Every time they touch, they would transform into some other form of matter that would make sex extremely complicated at best.

It's like they’re from a world where incest did not lead to inbreeding, a planet without recessive genes. (Although, Gleek looks like one inbred space monkey.) So, that episode of the X-Files, Home, with the deformed hillbilly inbred offspring who had their limbless Momma strapped to a board under the bed isn’t going to scare Zan & Jayna away from the sibling nookie.

True, Jayna could take the "form of a bitch in heat" and Zan could become an eighteen inch ice dildo, but, come on! I speak from experience when I say that there are better ways to get your groove on than humping a dog or sticking frozen pricks up your bum.

Did I just say…? Listen, ignore the "speak from experience" part. Just focus on the fact that we can’t see a sex tape with the Vulcan Donny & Marie getting it on. The best we can get is some footage of them taking turns having their way with their retarded space monkey.

And when that happens, well, the terrorists really win.

wojr

Labels: Comic Books, Crackers, Nostalgia, Porn, Sex, Whores

  ¶ 10:33 AM 0 comments links to this post   

  The Nazi Pope vs. Inmate #9818783 (or Vote for Today's Favorite Headline)

Now, I’m paraphrasing myself here, but news headlines can be peculiar things. And you don’t even need to take the time to closely examine them.

Take this article at TV Week, which just tickles my secular funny bone:

Pope To Be Named NBC Studio Head, Sources Say

Of course, the actual story is about a Katherine Pope and not my boy, Papal Benny. So, all the gullible Catholics (and atheist fans of the Peacock) can relax. The rebound pope is staying in his Italian crib. However, given that Ms. Pope is only a few months older than myself, any chuckles found from the headline were overcome by my cries of rage and jealousy.

Luckily, I then stumbled upon this lovely headline on eonline.com:

Nude Britney More Infectious Than Nude Paris

Given Britney’s propensity to walk barefoot in public bathrooms as well as her marriage to Senor Federline, this should surprise no one.

However, the article is referring to computer virus and not venereal diseases:

Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes are more likely to give you a virus than a nude Paris Hilton, a new study finds.

The State of Search Engine Safety report, released Monday by McAfee's SiteAdvisor group, evaluates the risks associated with approximately 2,300 of the most popular search terms based on the sites they return.

According to the study, conducting an online search for Suri's parents returns a slightly higher percentage of sites bundled with spyware and other malicious code than a search for the hotel heiress in her birthday suit.

Determined to be far more hazardous than searching for Cruise, Holmes or Hilton was scanning the World Wide Web for "Britney Spears nude," a search term that ranked above "free porn" in terms of the risky results it returned.

Less predictably, searching for a (presumably clothed) Lil' Wayne proved sketchier than hunting down either a nude Pamela Anderson or a nude Carmen Electra, while a search for Nicole Richie was determined to be more dangerous than the term "eating spiders while asleep"

Mark Maxwell, a senior product manager for SiteAdvisor, said the number of risky sites turned up by a search for a given star is not always a factor of their public profile.

"It's not necessarily an attribute of the celebrities themselves," Maxwell told E! Online.

He pointed out that typing "Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston" into a search engine returned a significantly higher percentage of undesirable results than a search for the actor and his current flame, Angelina Jolie.

"Are Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston truly riskier than Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie as people? No," Maxwell said.

"Britney Spears nude" ranked higher than "free porn"? Interesting.

Some guy has a job that involves finding how likely it is to get a computer virus when searching for the phrase "eating spiders while sleep"? Kinda sad. True, it’s not as thankless a job as waiting tables at the Red Lobster, but there has got to be better ways to earn your money.

The survey does explain some of the more wacky search phrases that led people to my site. Like "girls in cocaine", "massive bowel movement", or "Paris Hilton Dead Pool." And those are just for June.

I do wonder if Paris's current stay in jail will make her more or less associated with computer-based hazards. Not that I’m making fun of Paris'’s stay in jail. Everyone else is doing that and no one will reach the heights of Sarah Silverman's slam.



Bronc would so let Paris Hilton go down on him.

wojr

Edited: If you want you can write Ms. Hilton in prison, you can do so at the following address:

Paris Hilton, #9818783
PO BOX 86164
Terminal Annex
Los Angeles, CA 90086-0164

wojr

Labels: Bronc, Crackers, DeadPool, Hollywood, Porn, Sex, Snide Remarks, Whores, Youtube

  ¶ 7:15 PM 0 comments links to this post   

  "I'm a realist, I like to see real shit going down"

Just putting this deleted scene from Knocked Up here because Broncatello is too lazy to search youtube for it.



Bronc would so let Jake Gyllenhaal go down on him.

wojr

Labels: Bronc, Hollywood, Sex, Youtube

  ¶ 12:50 PM 0 comments links to this post   

  Mom, I’m Off To Comic Book Store – Keep An Eye on Doggie For Me?

Found on nydailynews.com (via warrenellis.com):

No escape from S&M Svengali, she says

A woman who says she was forced into sexual slavery took jurors on a stomach-turning journey through her S&M hell yesterday, testifying against the captor who called himself "God."

Jodi, a petite, 39-year-old from Wisconsin, testified that she was powerless to escape the twisted control of defendant Glenn Marcus, a sadomasochistic Svengali she met in 1998 on the Internet.

Federal Judge Allyne Ross allowed the witness to be identified by just her first name to spare her embarrassment.

Speaking in a husky monotone, Jodi described the whippings, mutilations and torture she said she received at the hands of Marcus, who sold comic books and lived with his parents on Long Island.

Marcus also lorded over three other female slaves he dubbed "Doggie," "Nameless" and "Robot,” Jodi said. But after Jodi agreed to submit to Marcus' fantasies, she became his "ultimate slave," the one he called "It," she said. He initiated Jodi by shaving her head and branding the letter "G" on her buttocks, she said.

He later carved "Slave" on her stomach, Jodi said.

"I was now his property and I belonged to him," Jodi testified in Brooklyn Federal Court, where Marcus, 53, is on trial for sex trafficking, forced labor and disseminating obscene photos of the victim on his Web site. "And whatever I was before I came to him didn't exist anymore."

Jodi had dabbled with sadomasochism in two relationships before meeting Marcus, but she said she was not prepared for his extreme brutality.

In one attack, he burned Jodi with a cigarette all over her body, including her genitals, she said. "I felt like I was literally in hell. I felt like I was on fire and couldn't put it out," she said.

Jodi was afraid to complain to the other female "slaves" out of fear they would tell Marcus and she would be punished further, she said.

There’s a word you don’t hear enough, Svengali. If I was a well-hung African American male, I would so want to become a Svengali. That way, I can claim to be The Mandingo Svengali. It has a nice ring to it and it would definitely look spiffy embroidered on a lobster bib.

Since I’m not African-American or well hung, I’ll just comment about this story on this blog.

So, Glenn aka “God” worked at a comic book store at the ripe age of 53, lived with his parents at the ripe age of 53 and still managed to get not one, not two, but four women to be his submissive sex slaves? I’m sure there’s many a man reading that story and thinking, “what the hell am I doing wrong?”

To those men, I give this advice, “Move out to Long Island”. If you stop and think about it, this story does make perfect sense. Long Island is the home of Amy Fischer and Joey Buttafucco. Crazy bitches falling for creepy old dudes just happens to be the norm out there. I’m not sure you’ll find one that will allow you to burn her vagina with a lit cigarette, but I’d wager you could get a handjob if you just offer her a pack of cigarettes.

(Oh yeah, I’m getting some hate mail for this one.)

wojr

Labels: Comic Books, News, Sex, Snide Remarks, Whores

  ¶ 3:39 PM 0 comments links to this post   

  I Hope the Poor Guy Counting the Condoms Is Getting Some (or Wow, Michelle Pfeiffer Was Hot in a Trashy Way in Grease 2)

Found on wcbstv.com:

Condom Sales Spike In S. Korea

(AP) SEOUL Condom sales and bookings at several of South Korea's pay-by-the-hour "love motels" surged in the aftermath of North Korea's nuclear test, according to statistics released Thursday.

South Koreans are used to living in the shadow of war, and life has continued as normal across the country in the wake of the Oct. 9 explosion. But statistics on the number of condoms sold in recent weeks suggest that despite their apparently blasé reaction to the North's nuclear bluster, many South Koreans may be seeking solace in sex.

A leading chain of convenience stores reported Thursday that their condom sales rose to an average of 1,930 a day in the week after Oct. 9, compared to 1,508 a day for the year to Sept. 30.

Sales of the prophylactics dropped slightly to 1,772 in the week of Oct. 16-21, but remained well above previous norms.

Another national chain said it sold 3.54 million South Korean won (US$3,721) worth of condoms a day during the week after the test — a 14.8 percent rise over last month's sales figures, and a 12 percent rise over the year to Sept. 30.

The statistics were first reported by a prominent newspaper, Chosun Ilbo, which ran a full-color graphic of a condom-shrouded missile bearing the North Korean flag.

The South Korean condom industry owes a debt of gratitude to Kim Jong Ill. Who would have thunk?

To be perfectly honest, if I was threatened with nuclear annihilation, I would be inclined to go bareback. Then again, I haven’t been hitting up the “love motels”.

The whole thing reminds me of the scene from Grease 2 where one of the guys tries to use a bomb shelter and his girlfriend’s nuclear paranoia to get laid. “KABLAM! NUCLEOID WAR!” The damn scene even had a damn musical number.

Yeah, let's do it for our country, the red, white, and the blue,
If the President were standin' here, I'm sure he would approve.
I'll be a mighty soldier before this night is through.
Let's do it for our country, our country wants us to.

And by “do it”, they mean making the beast with two backs.

Now, some of you might be asking yourself “why is wojr referencing GREASE 2”?

Well,

1. I wanted to show that I’m secure enough in my manhood to reference Grease 2 and/or movie musicals.
2. In terms of the Inaugural wojr.com Halloween Dead Pool, the stars of Grease 2, Michelle Pfeiffer and Maxwell Caulfield, are both just under fifty. They might make for some interesting Dead Pool picks. (Co-stars, Sid Caesar (84) and Adrian Zmed also make for VERY interesting picks.)
3. Liz and Jean Sagal, the twins from the sitcom Double Trouble and known wojr crushes, happen to be in Grease 2. I will go any distance to reference either Double Trouble and/or Tales of the Gold Monkey.
4. The Korean Condom Article really spoke for itself. Felt like I had to think of something of my own to contribute to this post.
   

Yeah, they all can’t be home runs, but I bet you chuckled at the Kim Jong Ill picture.

wojr

Labels: News, Political, Sex, Whores

  ¶ 3:28 PM 0 comments links to this post   

  A Little Something for my Lesbian Readers

HAPPY 5PM FRIDAY, MY LITTLE RUGMUNCHERS!

wojr

Labels: 5PMSendoff, Sex

  ¶ 5:08 PM 0 comments links to this post   

  wojr's Guide to Dating - Entry #4,742:
'Office Supplies Are NOT Just For Work'

The Boy Scouts had it right. Always be prepared!


Oddly enough, I actually dated a girl that got a little aroused by office supplies.

wojr

Labels: Advice, Sex

  ¶ 11:09 AM 0 comments links to this post   

  Best Use of the Word “RECKON” Ever - EVER

Found on theindychannel.com (via fleshbot.com NSFW):

Man RECKONS Santa-Playing Days Over After Indecency Arrest

LOGANSPORT, Ind. -- A man who has portrayed Santa Claus was one of several men arrested in a two-day crackdown on sexual activity at a Logansport park this week, police said.

John Hopkins, 60, was arrested Wednesday at Spencer Park after he grabbed an undercover officer, according to Kokomo police, who helped Logansport police with the sting.

The white-bearded Hopkins told police that he has played Santa in the past. When an investigator found in Hopkins' truck a flier about an upcoming holiday event, Hopkins said he guessed he couldn't play Santa anymore because of the arrest, police said.

First off, a big congratulations to the Kokomo police for now making public bathrooms safe from cruising homosexuals. I don’t RECKON that I’ll ever have to worry about a gay man coming on to me in public bathroom ever again.

By the way, is Kokomo pronounced cow-ko-mo or cock-oh-mo? I RECKON it’s the latter.

Anwho, we can now add another occupation to the list of jobs homosexuals we RECKON they can not do. They can’t kill Iraqis, they can’t teach children without offering them a handjob, and now they can’t sit in the center of a mall & sell overpriced Polaroids.

“But wojr, you aren’t a parent. You don’t know what…”

Yes, for all I RECKON, I’m not a parent. Thanks to condoms, the pull & pray method and long spans of self-imposed celibacy, I have no offspring. (If I’m wrong on that reckoning, please let me know. I don’t want anyone reckoning that I’m a deadbeat dad.)

I don’t have to worry about the well-being of any children, but if I did I would still RECKON one thing. Being a homosexual does not make one a pedophile, just like being a parent does not make one a homophobe. Nor does it give you the right to be one.

Why shouldn’t John Hopkins be allowed to portray Santa Claus? He certainly looks the part and as long as we don’t have grown men sitting on his lap, I RECKON there wouldn’t be any incidents.

Oh and Mr. Hopkins, sir, I RECKON I have some advice for you as well. I’m not really up on my homosexual fetishes and such, but I RECKON there has to be some guys out there looking to get it on with Santa. You know, some nice gents that want you to jump down their chimney, fill their stockings with coal or munch on their milk and cookies. (Munch on their cookies? I can do better than that. How about “tell them they’ve been naughty or nice”? Does that work?) I would check the Internet there, St. Nick, and see what you can dig up.

I RECKON that there has got to be better cruising options out there for Santa Claus than public restrooms.

Just like I RECKON there has got to better uses for the Kokomo police department than busting a horny Santa Claus.

Ooo I wanna take you down to kokomo
We'll get there fast
And then we'll take it slow
Thats where we wanna go
Way down to kokomo

wojr

Labels: News, Sex, Snide Remarks

  ¶ 7:43 PM 0 comments links to this post   

  Bronc Will Not Scare Me Into Editing This Post

Found on angolapress.com (via attu):

Nairobi, 10/10 - A Kenyan court Monday sentenced a couple to 18 months in prison each for having sexual relations inside a Mosque at Gilgil, about 100-km northwest of Nairobi.

Naivasha Senior Magistrate John Kingori called the act by Peter Kimani and Jennifer Wairimu, "abominable" to religion and dismissed their plea for leniency.

The couple, caught in the act 3 October, claimed they were under the influence of alcohol.

Kimani said he thought he was inside a hotel room while Wanjiru claimed she was too drunk to remember what happened.

There but for the grace of Allah go I. Given my history of alcohol consumption and drunken sluttiness, that could easily have been me.

Except for the whole Nairobi part.

Eighteen months does sound very severe but the Indecent Exposure and Public Lewdness Statutes for some states are much worse. And by states I mean the ones in the United States.

Of America.

The maximum sentence for such an offense in Maryland, South Carolina and Louisiana is THREE YEARS. Hell, I’ve been drunk and exposed in Louisiana.

I wanted some beads.

Now, those three year sentences coupled with monetary fines represent the maximum, but I can not imagine those same states would look too fondly on the concepts of a religious structure and the act of fornication. I bet the mere notion of a blowjob in a sacristy would result in a lynching or, better yet, a shotgun wedding in those states.

So, I think Jennifer and Peter got off pretty light. But I wonder...

I wonder if they’ll be able to share a cell.

I wonder if that was their first date.

I wonder if Jennifer and Peter are common African names.

I wonder if Peter at least got to "finish".

I wonder who I was referring to when I used “a blowjob in a sacristy” as a hypothetical.

wojr

Labels: Bronc, Intoxication, News, Religion, Sex

  ¶ 4:24 PM 5 comments links to this post   

  An Affront to the Sanctimony of Alimony

Found on baynews9.com (via attu):

A Seminole man is fighting to stop alimony payments to his ex-wife because the woman is now a man.

Lawrence Roach says his ex-wife has had a sex change and is now living as a man with a new identity. Roach says he should be allowed discontinue $1,200 in monthly alimony payments.

"This isn't right. It's humiliating to me and degrading," Roach said. "You know, I'm a man and I don't want to be paying alimony to a man. If you can't be married to a man legally, how can you legally pay alimony to a man?"

Let’s take a moment and bask in that. Just sit back, relax and repeat after me.

“I’m a man and I don’t want to be paying alimony to a man.”

Allow the warmth and human compassion of that statement to just wash over you.

Now, Lawrence Roach is listed in phone book. Taking that information and the wonder that is Google Earth, I was shocked to find that Lawrence does not live in a home of the mobile variety. He lives in a house and appears to have one of the greener lawns on his block.

I guess that’s why we’re reading about his plight via a respectable news outlet and not seeing it on an episode of Springer.

"If you can’t be married to a man legally, how can you legally pay alimony to a man?"

Opposed to illegally paying alimony to a man, Lawrence? The state of Florida needs to crack down on those illegal alimony payments. It’s bordering on a crime epidemic.

Lawrence most likely will lose his suit. He needs his ex to either die or remarry to stop the alimony payments.

Personally, if I was in Lawrence’s situation, I’d probably just keep my mouth shut, pay the alimony and hope my ex-wife meets a nice lady to re-marry. No need to let everybody know my ex is now sporting man parts.

I just hope, for Lawrence’s sake, that the ex-wife is into the ladies now. If she/he still likes the dudes, then you might see Lawrence campaigning for gay marriage to get out of his alimony dilemma.

wojr

Labels: Crackers, News, Sex, Snide Remarks

  ¶ 8:20 AM 0 comments links to this post   

  Think I Still Owe Raj A Wedding Gift

Found on INCREDIBLE FUKN.US (via Fleshbot.com (NSFW)):

This President will really f*** you up the butt. You’re already familiar with the sensation, so why not REALLY FEEL IT with our exclusive Presidential Pooper Plug. Invade an Iraqi, an Afghani, or at even an Iranian when you want. With this fat headed, huge stub of a plug no ass is safe anywhere.

Do I even need to add my own comments? Isn't that just comical enough without any snarky remarks from me?

Though, I am worried about having a buttplug that is called a 'bushplug'. It might be cause for some confusion. Just be sure to always go from the pink to brown, young ladies. Going brown to pink is just bad hygiene.

wojr

Labels: Advice, Political, Sex

  ¶ 12:51 PM 1 comments links to this post   

  Know the World Around You

Right now, somewhere in the world…

Someone is going “Gay for Pay.”

Some drunk’s bender is just beginning.

An episode of Law & Order is airing on two or more networks.

Some hack is being paid more than you to get Lindsey Lohan more press.

The son of Dracula is looking for a book deal.

Several women have their legs up in stirrups as they patiently await their doctor.

Some guy is getting aroused at the idea of women in stirrups.

The ‘Age of Diddy’ Just Keeps on Truckin’.

Someone is knocking the bottom out of someone’s sister.

Someone has three or more fingers in their anal cavity. It might be that “Gay for Pay” guy.

The NFL doesn’t want you to get drunk.

One of your friends is making fun of you behind your back. (If you’re a large Italian adult male that still lives at home, that number may be higher.)

Several babies and senior citizens are crapping in their diapers.

Some guy is getting aroused at the idea of crapping in a diaper.

A team of Public Relations experts are brainstorming ways to steal press away from Lindsey Lohan.

Some porn star is having problems maintaining wood. This might be that “Gay for Pay” guy as well.

Some other drunk’s bender is just ending.

Someone is wondering if stirrups or diapers get wojr aroused.

You’re realizing that the time you spent reading this blog is LOST FOREVER.

wojr

Labels: Intoxication, Porn, Sex, Snide Remarks

  ¶ 4:03 PM 0 comments links to this post   

  Dog Bites Man Is Not News (Even If The Man Is A Drunken German Cowboy)

So, this is how the internet greets me today – found on abcnews.com:

Johansson Likes Her Hourglass Figure

NEW YORK Sep 18, 2006 (AP) Scarlett Johansson struts her stuff in cleavage-baring dresses on the red carpet, but in real life, she'd rather remain a mystery.

"I can't stand those articles where people spill their life story," Johansson says in the October issue of InStyle magazine, on newsstands Friday. "After a while I feel like I know more about them than their best friend does and that's weird. It's better when you don't know everything."

…

She's more confident about her hourglass figure. "I'm curvy I'm never going to be 5'11' and 120 pounds. But I feel lucky to have what I've got."

Not only is this article basically an advertisement for the October issue of InStyle magazine pretending to be a news story, it’s not even news.

(Yeah, it's not InStyle magazine, but I just like that picture.)

Scarlett Johansson coming to the conclusion that she has an attractive body, the same conclusion an overwhelming consensus of both men and women already agree on, is not news. If it was, I’d be reading articles about how Brad Pitt likes his abs, how Peter North likes his penis (and money shots), and how I’m proud of my cunnilingus skills*.

This story is lower than Man Bites Dog, let alone Dog Biting Man. Of course, Man Bites Panda trumps them all – found on aol.com:

Man Bites Panda at Beijing Zoo

BEIJING (Sept. 20) - A drunken Chinese migrant worker jumped into a panda enclosure at the Beijing Zoo, was bitten by the bear and retaliated by chomping down on the animal's back, state media said Wednesday.

See that’s a news story. Moronic and ultimately inconsequential but still a news story. Plus, when you see that it’s not the only drunken foreigner having fun with animals – found on ananova.com:

Drunken cowboy arrested

A drunken German cowboy was arrested after he rode his horse into several pubs looking for a nightcap.

The 33-year-old trotted with his mount into several saloons in Geseke requesting: "Just one for the road - and an apple for Hendrik."

Hendrik the horse plodded faithfully around the town as his master fired a cap gun and at one stage fell off.

It wasn't long before the sherrif [sic] arrived and the night ended with the midnight cowboy sleeping it off in the local cells.

Hendrik was bedded down for the night at a stable with police horses. His owner faces a charge of being drunk in charge of a horse and a fine.

“Drunken Foreigners Abusing Animals” has the makings of a Fox News Special Report if you ask me. Push comes to shove, they can always ask Scarlett Johansen for her thoughts on this social epidemic. That's if they don't have video of the Man Biting the Panda.

By the way, Drunken German Cowboys? Really?

wojr

*Any news outlets interested in interviewing me about my cunnilingus skills can email me at wojr@aol.com.

Labels: Intoxication, News, Sex, Snide Remarks

  ¶ 6:44 PM 0 comments links to this post   

  Further Proof that wojr.com is Ahead of the Curve

Remember our little “Sociological Experiments” we ran on wojr.com? You know, the one way back in June of 2004 followed by the one March of 2006? Basically, we posted totally unrealistic personal ads on craigslist.org and looked at the results. In essence, showing how stupid and/or horny men can be.

Well, the good folks over at bloggasm.com did a more scientific form of this ruse in August of 2006 that basically showed how horny men can be.

My experiment, as well as the one bloggasm.com, did not release any personal information tied to the responses from said personal ads. Honestly, I thought that would be wrong and might open wojr.com to some legal gray areas.

Well, now (meaning September of 2006), RFJason and demure have taken these little experiments into that gray area. They “borrowed” a woman’s rather raunchy personal ad looking for rough sex which included spanking, hand cuffs and a request to be wojed on her “nips and face” (She didn’t actually use the term “wojed” but I blame you, the loyal readers, for not making that word a national craze yet) and posted it on Seattle’s craigslist.

They, then, posted all the responses with email address and submitted pictures here showing again how stupid/horny men can be. (Link is NSFW – actually, if you don’t want to see penis pictures, it is not safe for you either).

So, if you were looking for some rough sex in the Seattle area, you might want to check out that site and see if your info is out there for the world to see. Hell, if you date some guy in the Seattle area, I'd go make sure he's not trying to stray.

If you just want a good laugh and can stomach some strange cock shots, I'd recommend going over to read some of these emails. My personal fav is the simple response, "i love ur pu$$y i wanna fuke it hard when we can meet?" I think that's my new pickup line.

I’d like to think that I inspired all this but...

Actually, fuke it, I will think that. My ego can never be fully satisfied anyhow.

Maybe I’ll throw my hat back in the ring and put up another ad? Something like this:

Horny blonde co-ed seeks hardcore drilling, all holes filled and please woj into my belly button. All I ask in return is permission to put your email address and photograph on my website of desperate men that want to sleep with me.

Think I’d get any responses?

wojr

Labels: Sex, Snide Remarks, Whores

  ¶ 4:07 PM 0 comments links to this post   

  DUE TO TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES...

Today's 5PM sign-off comes to you at 10:30AM.


The Superfriends & the rest of the wojr.com staff wish you a Happy and Orgy-filled Labor Day!

(They can't help it. The Superfriends are orgy people.)

HAPPY 10:30AM FRIDAY EVERYBODY!

wojr

Labels: 5PMSendoff, Nostalgia, Sex

  ¶ 10:32 AM 0 comments links to this post   

  The Man with Two Dicks Picks Hitler over Hilton

For today’s post, wojr.com is going to include a little trivia:

What 1993 film was Mel Gibson’s directorial debut?

We’ll tell you the answer at the end of the post.

Yesterday, The Lord of Truth forwarded me this story he found on news.yahoo.com:

NEW DELHI (Reuters) - An Indian businessman born with two penises wants one of them removed surgically as he wants to marry and lead a normal sexual life, a newspaper report said Saturday.

The 24-year-old man from the northern state of Uttar Pradesh admitted himself to a New Delhi hospital this week with an extremely rare medical condition called penile duplication or diphallus, the Times of India said.

A man with two dicks - my first reaction was “Oh, that’s going on the site.” I could make some jokes about his moral obligation to do a porno before getting the operation. I could hypothesize about what was the “straw that broke the camel’s back” that made him choose the operation now at the age of 24.

But, then I read this little factoid:

There are about 100 such reported cases of diphallus around the world and it is known to occur among one in 5.5 million men.

So, my math skills may be off, but doesn’t that mean there are at least 90 of these two dicked fuckers running China alone?

Suddenly, I’m not that impressed with diphallus. It seems routine.

Like this other story out of India found on cnn.com:

India deeming Paris Hilton's video for "Stars Are Blind" too hot for broadcast after claiming it had sexual connotations.

So, Paris is being banned by the Indians (dots not feathers). Probably payback for the thought of her playing their beloved Mother Teresa on the big screen. Who cares, right?

But then, I found this gem of a story on reuters.com:

MUMBAI (Reuters) - Israel's mission in India asked city authorities in the financial hub of Mumbai on Wednesday to get a restaurant called "Hitler's Cross" to change its name.

The restaurant, which opened last week, was promoted with posters of Hitler and Nazi swastikas, infuriating India's small Jewish population.

The restaurant's owners have said they were neither promoting Hitler nor the Nazi ideology, but would not change the restaurant's name.

They have said they would open two more branches in Mumbai with the same name by October.

Now if my logic center is working right, India has thus chosen Adolph Hitler as a more acceptable cultural influence than Paris Hilton – a notion that just fills me with some strange sense of glee.

But enough of anti-Semitism and other wacky Hollywood behavior, lets get back to Mel Gibson.

If you said that Mel’s directorial debut was The Man With Two Faces, you would be incorrect. If you got the answer wrong, don't get yourself down - I meant to mislead you.

The correct response was The Man Without a Face, which was also the big screen debut for Nick Stahl of Carnivàle fame.

As far as we know, both these men only have one penis.

wojr

Labels: Hollywood, News, Sex, Whores

  ¶ 1:29 PM 0 comments links to this post   

  If I Was Watching American Idol, It Might Have Been Paula Abdul

My predilection to bizarre dreams is well known amongst my friends. One involving 12-year-old blonde mulattos and velvet paintings happens to be a repeated source of mocking and ridicule. It definitely does not help my tendency towards the peculiar when I fall asleep with the television turned on; allowing whatever late night/early morning television programming to seep into my subconscious.

Last night's dream revolved around a high school reunion. Judging by the attendees and the Jersey Shore locale, I will assume it was for my high school. However, during the course of the night, I was picked up by one of the other participants, a famous one that really had no reason to be at the reunion, Whitney Houston.

Except for her possible presence in the background television programming, I have no idea why Whitney would be in my dream. I have no particular attraction to her. Despite such statements as "Crack is cheap. I make too much for me to ever smoke crack. Let's get that straight, OK? I don't do crack. I don't do that. Crack is whack." the lady really isn't my type (Now, Halle Berry, that's a frequent dream liaison). Even though in my dream, Whitney did have it going on. She was more in her "I Want To Dance With Somebody" phase than the present "I smoke rock, Joe Rogan" state of being.

So, the basic plot of my dream involved Whitney and I avoiding my classmates as well as Bobbi Brown as we search for a quiet place to get our groove on. I guess a hotel room was out of the question for my subconscious. But before I got to be Whitney's bodyguard, the 5 AM Broncatello Wake Up Call ended my blissful slumber.

When I looked at the television to see what show had spurred all these illusory visions, can you imagine which one was on? Not Lifestyles of the Rich & Famous. Not The E! True Hollywood Story. Not even Charlie Murphy's True Hollywood Stories.

It was COPS

wojr

Labels: Bronc, Hollywood, Sex, Whores

  ¶ 5:23 PM 0 comments links to this post   

  So, Do You Get Hard at the Museum of Natural History?

While in South Carolina, we all went to the great bar, Flying Saucer, where the waitresses are all dressed up in Catholic School uniforms. Forget the tanks tops and orange shorts of Hooters, this was plaid skirts and knee-high stockings. I must have uttered the phrase, "THIS IS GENIUS!", a few dozen times in the first five minutes. As I told my Aunt, a dozen years of Catholic education provided me with one thing, a fetish.

But at least I am not as deranged as this guy:

"BigClawz is a website which contains stuff related mainly to macrophilia, herpetophilia, and claw feet. That's right, claw feet :) Confused? Ok ok, lemmie explain, "macrophilia" is a love of giant beings, and, "herpetophilia" means love of lizards, reptiles and dragon like things. Combine the too and what do you get? Well a good example would be Godzilla, and I trust you all know who he is :) Yes, to us, Godzilla is ... well, sexy, and that's the truth, pretty unusual huh? Ohh and let's not forget the clawfeet! Yup, you guessed it, we also have "claw foot fetishes". So, basically, Godzilla looming over a building and stomping it with his huge foot is porn."

Puts Bronc's fascination with midgets in its proper perspective, doesn't it?

wojr

Labels: Bronc, Sex, Snide Remarks

  ¶ 3:03 PM 0 comments links to this post   

  LOOK CLOSER

First, we have what might been just another moment in the history of guys that did not get laid.. ever:



But, if you look closer:



"THE GIRL EVERY FRENCHMAN WANTS"?? I don't know. Is every Frenchman after a tropical transsexual with the ferocity of a caged lion? Maybe.

Secondly, we have a pair of attractive women:



But, if you look closer:



You have the makings of a Penthouse Forum letter.

Now, you may ask what the point of all this is? It's easy. Third Sex, Threesome.



Today's number of the day is THREE.

(And no, I have not been drinking.)

wojr

Labels: Intoxication, Sex, Snide Remarks

  ¶ 1:18 PM 0 comments links to this post   

  Wojr's Guide to Dating - Entry #3,567:
'As Long As You Aren't Ass-Raped, Prison Can Be A Lovely Dating Tool'

Even though my current dating status is 'Eternally Engaged', I'm pretty much an old married man. Carmel and I have lived together for over three years and have no intentions of ceasing that romantic arrangement.

So, I feel that I can start relinquishing some of my utterly stellar dating guidelines.

Today's tip: NEVER UNDERESTIMATE A CRIMINAL RECORD.

Most men prone to acts of moral turpitude like myself classify women via two categories, short-term and long-term. Long-term relationships usually equal "eternity", while short-term ones can range from "nanoseconds after the orgasm" to "nanoseconds shy of eternity."

When dealing with members of the second category, when you know marriage just is not an option, never overlook the usefulness of a solid criminal record; whether you actually have one or not. (Translated implication: if you don't have one, make one up.)

Not only do you get that bad boy vibe which is quite hard to muster otherwise, you are immediately slotted into their short-term category. This lower classification frees one from the numerous "where are we going?" discussions that men considered 'marriage material' need to suffer. With the criminal history, you are going just as far as she wants, which if you're receiving a consistent supply of nookie should suit you just fine.

Speaking of the macking, being viewed as dangerous does open up new realms in bedroom area. Even George Costanza knows that the best sex is the conjugal visit sex. Just be sure to be clear that you weren't on the receiving end of any jailhouse dick and that the only tossed salad you've eaten has been from McDonald's.

Yet another benefit of the criminal history is the utter readiness of foolproof excuses. Want to head back to your crib during the pre-dawn hours? Claim that you need to run off to do your community service; just don't tell her which highway you are supposed to be picking trash from. Stopped by for some after-work boom-boom but still want to meet up with the fellas? Tell her the halfway house you are assigned to has a curfew. Don't feel like calling for a week or two? Just explain that you were in 'County'.

The key to it all is the avoidance of specifics. There is no need to go overboard on the details. Her overactive imagination will fill in the blanks. Lines like "don't worry, it's only a misdemeanor", "I was just holding something for a friend" or "I was reckless, you'd think I would know better by now" will keep you and her afloat for several weeks. Afterwards, well.. who wants a relationship to last longer than SEVERAL weeks?

Stay tuned for the next entry in Wojr's Guide to Dating
'Alcohol & Your Penis: A Give and Take Relationship'

wojr

Labels: Advice, My Writing, Sex

  ¶ 11:58 PM   

  THE LFP INTERVIEW - CONCLUSION

Click here for Part One
Click here for Part Two
Click here for Part Three

When we last left our intrepid interviewee, wojr was being led deeper into the inner sanctum of the Larry Flynt empire by his guide, a ridiculously tiny Asian man with sweaty palms and a massive wedgie. On their trek to the elevator, the pair maneuvered their way through the commonplace office, staffed by extremely short men and impossibly attractive women.

(And we'll now stop talking about wojr in the third person.)

As we finally made it to the elevator, I am again forced to shake Wang's hand in our awkward parting ceremony. They are expecting me upstairs and Wang has work to do down here. I must continue on my lonesome.

As it says above, the floor I was on, while a little too populated with porn magazines, was still a commonplace office. It really could have been the offices for any number of corporations (as long as you confiscated the nudie books).

However, when I got off that elevator, well, the offices stopped being ordinary. I was stepping into the extraordinary, as in extraordinarily BAD TASTE. Now, I had seen the movie, The People vs. Larry Flynt. I saw how his deceased wife, Althea (who was rather fond of the mind-altering narcotics), designed the offices. I thought I knew what to expect.

However..

It was like being confronted with Death. In that, until you lose someone close to you, you can never fully grasp the true scope of death. Until you are actually confronted with such bad taste, you can never really appreciate the full scope of it as well.

Everywhere I looked were garish combinations of various cultures and designs - statues of Greek goddesses standing next to Buddha standing next to a Samurai Warrior all with a pink Marble backdrop. Large columns lined the hall with even more beautiful receptionists placed in front of them, one for every bigwig's office. No wonder Wang didn't accompany me up here - the sight of these ladies might have sent him on a masturbation frenzy.

One of these receptionist goddesses led me into the conference room. Instructing me that the CFO would be in shortly, the pretty lady presented me with a cup of coffee and left me to bask in my surroundings. Now, I've been to Graceland and marveled at Elvis's bad taste. However, Graceland does not hold a candle to this room. Imagine Elvis and Liberace having a gay lovechild that grew up to be interior decorator for funeral parlors. That man could have only dreamed of constructing such a room. Not only did a nude painting of Althea adorn the wall, but the varied statue motif continued in here as well. More samurais and Buddhas joined Kali, the goddess of death, to keep an eye on me. Also, a giant gong rested off to one side. That's something every business conference room needs, a gong. Don't like a presentation, bang the gong. Unhappy with this quarter's financial projections, bang the gong. All they needed was Jaime Farr & the Unknown Comic and I might have thought I was on the, hold on - wait for it - you know it's coming - Gong Show.

After waiting for a half hour, the CFO finally decides to grace me with his presence. Now, I hate judging people as stereotypes (almost as much as I hate having to wait for someone at an interview), but sometimes a person so encapsulates a stereotype that you have to wonder how they got that way. But if you had to cast someone in the role of Tiny Bitter Jewish Moneylender, this guy is your ideal. This bitter little man strolls in with no intention of hiding the fact that he feels like his time is being wasted. In his mind, he is a big powerful man despite the fact that he could buy his clothes in the kiddie section, When he gruffly sits down across from me, I thank whatever deity is watching over us that I do not want this job. I get to have fun.

At that point in time, I was employed for the complete opposite of Hustler, a Catholic homeless shelter catering to runaways age 18-21. As he sees this on my resume, his first question ushers forth, "Why would want to go from a place like that to here?" Giving the room a quick glance (making sure I give Althea's ta-tas a gander, may she rest in piece), I issue my response -->

"Definitely for the décor."

And I get nothing. No chuckle, no smile, just bitterness and the confirmation that I would never work for a man like that. The interview continues for another ten or fifteen minutes and I take my leave - And the tiny CFO was able to continue hiring men as small as he was.

The headhunter is disappointed when I tell her that I couldn't work at place like that, but she is taken back when I ask if Playboy is hiring. Hey, I need to get to Hef's place before I die. Maybe I should make friends with Scott Baio. Yeah, that might work.

wojr

Labels: My Writing, Nostalgia, Sex, Snide Remarks

  ¶ 11:47 PM 0 comments links to this post   

  The LFP Interview - Part 3

Click Here for Part 1
Click Here for Part 2

Finally, I was being led back into inner sanctum of Larry Flynt Publications. After being exposed to underage models & their pimps in their lobby and spread-eagle shots in their reception area, I could only imagine what delights the actual offices would hold.

Looking down on it, the Larry Flynt Building is shaped like a football. Given that configuration, most people have window offices. As I stroll behind the hot Asian HR woman, I split my attention between these window offices and the ass of the woman in front of me. (This tale took place right before I met Carmel, so no need to scold me for staring.) Both views are phenomenal.

My guide leads me into an office and I continue to focus on the view out the window. All of Beverly Hills is displayed before me. With a view like that, I might consider peddling the smut. That is until I stub my toe.. ..on that same smut. Stacked on the floors and on the bookshelf to my left, there are shrink-wrapped copies of every adolescent fantasy I ever had. Every visit to the local convenience store or newsstand would force that teen version of me to try to sneak a peek at the scantily clad honeys of the same magazines that are now just scattered everywhere. This office is a veritable wanker's utopia and then I see the owner of the office - the person I'm to interview with.

Wang, I forget his real name but it was something as utterly generic in Asian fashion, is one of the controllers here. Why a controller needs to keep his office completely stocked with porn is beyond me, but I would bet my bottom dollar that he's beaten off in this very office. So, here I am, forced to shake Wang the Wanker's hand, forced to bid farewell to the HR rep that I was sure was to be the first Mrs. Wojr and forced to sit down in front of the bookshelf of "quim" & conduct this interview.

The interview is basically an instruction course on all things Flynt as Wang goes on and on about all the big guy's business ventures, besides the smutty magazines. There are the stores. There's the casino. There are charitable and political causes. And all I can think about is the mountain of porn behind me as I look for sperm stalagmites on the ceiling (or is that stalagmites? Whichever descend.)

When it comes to my side of the interview, I whiz through my credentials, my interest in the company, and every other interview cliché I have. The snowjob seems to work, because Wang wants me to meet the CFO.. .. UPSTAIRS. It's like a video game adventure through bad taste and pornography and I'm advancing through no effort on my part.

Thus, Wang leads me out of his office, eyeing me to make sure I don't steal from his treasure trove of tittie mags. It's then I see how short Wang is. He can't be more than 5'2". Then I see another guy walking around. He's less than 5'5" as well. I wonder why that is, just as I see that Wang has the most colossal wedgie known to man. His ass is literally eating his slacks.

And I chuckle, because here I am heading up to the true inner sanctum of the smut world, being led by a chronic masturbator with a pant-eating ass and suddenly..
I'm Dante in the Divine Comedy and the only thing I can do is chuckle.

Tune in tomorrow to see who is on the next canto of Hell.

wojr

Labels: My Writing, Nostalgia, Sex, Snide Remarks

  ¶ 12:33 PM 0 comments links to this post   

  The LFP Interview - Part 2

Click Here for Part 1

As I mentioned yesterday, I arrived early for my interview for Larry Flynt Publications. As I wait outside, so not to seem too eager, Larry received a young applicant to his fine magazine and her pimp-like chaperone. After some arguing with the security guard, the pair gets turned away - despite the lady's business representative's attempts to form a bond of racial unity. It's a sad when a brother has to be like that, but I gather the applicant needed to submit her 'material' and not just show up out of the blue.

I just know, then and there, that this is not for me. I could not tell my family that this was were I worked. BUT I needed to see the inside. I needed to go to the place where these high-class individuals were just denied. I knew, at the very least, that it would make a good story one day.

So, I head upstairs to the dismay of Ike and his mini-entourage. I get off the elevator at the second to the top floor and end up in the reception area, a reception area of what appears to be a prestigious law firm. Everything is dark mahogany or dark brown leather, except for the pale, pretty girl acting as the receptionist. I'm completely taken aback by this room. I guess I was expecting spread eagle shots on the wall.

I'm told to have a seat and the human resources person will be right out. I'm sitting there and I see the 'magazine rack.' Discreetly hid in black binders are Larry's magazines: Hustler, Barely Legal, and a wide array of specialty magazines - not to mention some automotive, hunting, computer and tattoo magazines. (Bet you did not know our boy Larry made some respectable stuff, did ya?) And I'm wondering what to do. Do I check out the publisher's wares or not?

I sit there for an eternity contemplating my choices, when finally the pretty young Asian HR person comes find me. She introduces herself and takes me back into the offices for my interview.

Tune in tomorrow for Part 3 of our exciting epic. Same bat-time, same bat channel.

wojr

Labels: My Writing, Nostalgia, Sex, Snide Remarks

  ¶ 4:22 PM 0 comments links to this post   

  The LFP Interview - Part 1

Another side of me that some of you don't know about - in addition to this writing thing, I have a strong business background. I look really good on paper: Accounting Degree & moderately impressive GPA from Villanova, accounting and office management gigs in various industries, strong IT and computer skills. Headhunters are always emailing/calling with job opportunities. I turn most of them down. I just want to pay my bills and be able to focus as much time as possible on my writing.

But, a few years back, I get a call about a job at publishing company. My ears perk up. This might be a step in the right direction. So, I call up the headhunter and let her know I might be interested.

Then, things start to get weird. Her voice drops several decibel levels and she asks me if I would have trouble working for a company that had some interests in the adult entertainment area. I confessed to have never really thought about it, but I saw no real problems with it. By this point, I was just wanted to hear more. I don't think I would take the job, but I wanted to know everything. (Ok, I was envisioning getting an invite to Hef's mansion out of the deal.)

Well, she starts about a publishing company located in Beverly Hills. I knew Playboy had offices there so the phone's glued to my ear. Tell me more, sister. But that's all I get. She needs to submit my resume and see if they want to interview me. Ok, fine. I immediately call Bronc and relay the whole story. He gets excited, thinking this would mean trips to the Playboy mansion for him as well.

Next day, I get the call. They would like to meet me. Could I come in this afternoon? You bet your sweet ass I can. I get the address. Tell my boss I have an emergency or some medical thing - I forget. Show up early at the address - only to find myself at the Larry Flynt building in Beverly Hills. "HUSTLER, baby." I've gone from Playboy, skipped over Penthouse and landed right on HUSTLER. Do not collect $200.

Like I said, I was there early. So, I wait outside and work on a story I was writing at the time. While I'm waiting, this seventeen (if she was lucky) year old harlot shows up escorted by some middle-aged black man looking for an 'interview'. I'm watching in amazement at a man that my imagination is labeling Ike Turner and his bimbo talking to the security guard, trying to arrange a visit up to see Larry & his golden wheelchair. And I wonder if a job at Larry Flynt Publishing right for me?

Tune in Tomorrow When I Continue the Story.

wojr

Labels: My Writing, Nostalgia, Sex, Snide Remarks

  ¶ 4:40 PM 0 comments links to this post   

  But How Happy Were Those Happy Days?

(Warning: While I consciously avoided any of George Carlin's Seven Dirty Words, the following rant does delve into topics of gang rape, cocaine usage, interracial group sex, prostitution, Brady Bunch incest, sex with minors, cross-dressing, heroin addiction, female ejaculation, homosexuality and Ron Howard. Be forewarned.)

One of the positive things about growing older is, that given enough time, the truth comes out. And as it says in The Fountainhead, "the nice explanations are never the true ones". Especially in Hollywood. Given enough time, the spin-doctoring fades away and people realize which closeted actors enjoyed the sweet taste of man-love, that dehydrated actresses frequently suffer from heroin addiction and that Greg Brady tried to get with his on-screen Mother and Sister.

Thanks to Hollywood tell-alls and TV movies, the public has learned some of the truth about Three's Company, Charlie's Angels, The Brady Bunch and The Partridge Family.

But, what about Happy Days? Where's the tell-all on that show? Aren't Donny Most and Erin Moran hard up enough for cash to be fleecing the secrets of that beloved sitcom?

I mean the show was one of the biggest hits of the late 70s. Cocaine was good for you then. Bad things must have happened. Now, I don't mean bad things like the gang rape of Jenny Piccalo or Arnold and Big Al double-teaming a twelve-year old blonde mulatto, but, come on now, everyone saw the Mork from Ork episode. The only explanation for that mess is heavy drug use, plus I think cocaine originated at Robin Williams. Forget the movie Blow, that man is the source.

I know what you're thinking Happy Days is beloved. It's Americana. It's the epitome of conservatism. Just don't forget it's still Hollywood. I went to a conservative college for only four years and my friends & I have enough crazy sex stories from that period to last a lifetime (especially Phil's ultimate female ejaculation story.) That show was on the air for TEN YEARS in less than conservative Tinseltown. Heck, it's 2004 and Scott Baio still hasn't left the Playboy Mansion.

So..

Ask yourself, why call her "Leather Tuscadero" if she wasn't into S&M?

Ask yourself, what happened to the older Cunningham brother, Chuck? Or Fonzie's cousin, Spike? They just disappeared and were never mentioned again. My theory: cross-dressers. But, I have no facts.

Ask yourself, why was the dim-witted character called "Potsie"? I'm not saying for certain that the boy liked the marijuana, but that's the one guy on the show I would assume was holding.

Ask yourself, what was the deal with "the Pinkettes"? Was Pinky Tuscadero their madam, pimping those poor girls out to support her demolition derby career? (On a serious note though, Roz Kelly, the actress that played Pinky, got three years in jail in 1998 for "shooting up cars and a neighbors apartment after a car alarm went off in the early morning and woke her up.")

I'm sure there are more tidbits that need to see the light of day. But I doubt they will. I just think Ron Howard aka Richie has become too powerful in Hollywood. He's an outright mogul now and no one wants to cross that line. Even a man who blabbed so much he was dubbed "Ralph Malph".

By the way, about Jenny Piccalo's gang rape - here's an actual quote from the show: "I wouldn't miss this for a weekend with the Green Bay Packers as their towel girl!" The girl was asking for it.

wojr

Labels: Hollywood, Nostalgia, Sex, Snide Remarks, Whores

  ¶ 1:56 PM 0 comments links to this post   

  Wojr Mail Call

Continued comments on the "Attempted Wife-Swapping".

From Neerajimous Pai - "The swingers story rocked, especially for those of us who will never have such a thing happen to us (whereas for folks like Rosie and Claudine, or Rukus and fillintheblank, it happens three times a week). The really important question: what would the Wojr of ten years ago have done?"     He would have said something so incredibly inappropriate that no one would have slept with him.

From Phillip "Boom-Boom" O'Neil - "as much as i learned from you....there is much i still have yet to teach you my padawon learner."     Thanks for the offer, but I don't think I'll be attending the O'Neil School of Whore-Mongering and Polygamy. However, in Phil's defense, he does pretty well with the ladies despite referencing crappy Star Wars movies.

From some fellow named Kuffel - "You should of swung - [euphemism for female genitalia]!"     Not only is this man now a homeowner and a husband, but a parent, ladies and gentlemen. By the way, how was shoveling the snow last week, Kuffel? I think we had some clouds here in LA, but I can't be sure. All I remember was sunshine and sundresses.

Keep the mail coming people

wojr

Labels: Sex, Snide Remarks, Viewer Mail, Whores

  ¶ 1:44 PM 0 comments links to this post   

  "Wojr.com's First Piece of Hate Mail"

I will admit I've wanted a piece of Hate Mail for a long time now. I may be reaching but I think this one qualifies. It's full of bile and rage.

From a Michael Broncatello in response to my 'Swinger Adventure':

"How the hell is it that I'm finding out about this story with the rest of the filth and vermin? These are the kind of events which require an immediate update! Possible spouse swapping and midgets are a must know event."

One angry letter down. How many more can we get???

Also, I know I was a bit inebriated, but I don't recall any midgets involved. Or dwarves either.

wojr

Labels: Bronc, Sex, The Wee Folk, Viewer Mail

  ¶ 3:23 PM 0 comments links to this post   

  "We May Be Vain, But We Don't Swing"

The following is a true story - swear to god.

As I mentioned, today is my fiancee's birthday. Last night, we decided to head out for a nice dinner in her honor. Per her normal birthday request, the meal of choice is sushi, but that's not really important to the story. You just need to know that we had nice meal and got a good buzz off a few bottles of sake.

Since it was still early after we finished eating and neither of us was ready to go home, we decided to stop at this English pub for a drink. One drink leads to two and we end up talking to this couple next to us. Let's call this couple for lack of a better name, "The Millers."

Before I go on, I just have to say that the Millers were the nicest, most well adjusted people I met in California. I liked them and I'm a bitter old man that doesn't like anybody.

That's when things started to get a little weird.

The wife started to get a little too touchy-feely with me and kept complimenting Carmel on her looks. The husband seemed a little too interested in Carmel's latest work story. Between the sake at the restaurant and the beers at the bar, my indicator light was a little slow to go off but when the words "open marriage" were uttered that light went supernova. These people wanted to get us in the sack and were not shy about letting us know that juicy tidbit.

Well, Carmel and I had the exact same reaction - we were flattered. They weren't a bad looking couple and they're trying to pick us up. It definitely boosts one's self-esteem. But (and here's the "honest but" not just "my family might read this but") Carmel and I are just not swingers. Sure, we're both demented little perverts, but at the end of the day, we just aren't going to swap spouses. So, we politely declined and eventually made our way home.

To paraphrase Seinfeld, there will be no orgy friends, they were will be no orgy clothes. Woj and Carmel are all about the vanilla sex-life.

But please feel free to proposition us any time you want. We are vain people and will soak up the attention like a sponge. (And yes, I am hung over today, but I still feel studly.)

wojr

Labels: Crackers, Intoxication, Sex

  ¶ 12:53 PM 0 comments links to this post   

  "When I Start My Cult, Those Are The First People I'm Going After.."

I think the reason cults get a bad name is that you never really see people trying to join one. Maybe if you bumped into people on the street that were actively seeking a cult, you would be more inclined to accept these groups as an integral part of society. Wouldn't you feel better about them if you opened up the personal ads and read the following?

SWM SEEKING CULT - 33yo lonely virgin is looking for a pseudo-militant religious group that would completely take over his life. Would prefer something with strong "Star Trek" ties, but open to all science fiction/alien invasion based beliefs. End goal would involve uniformed gender-neutral haircuts and mass suicide.

If I saw something like that in my paper then I'm sure I would not be able to refer to cultists as wackjobs anymore. Spam has a bad reputation as well, but at least I know that there are people out there that want to clean up their credit and increase the size of their penis.

(On a serious note, I just might place an ad like that just to see what kind of responses I would get.)

wojr

Labels: Personal Ad Pranks, Sex, Snide Remarks

  ¶ 8:13 AM 0 comments links to this post   

  "Martha Stewart Should Have Made One of Those Formation Privileges"

In what seems like a weekly trend, the front page of the LA Times disturbs me.

First off, the coverage of the bombing in Madrid continues.

Then, there is news of the gruesome mass murder up in Fresno.

But then, we have Cardinal Mahony's latest attempt to keep church documents secret in relation to priests accused of molesting children. The Cardinal claims that there was a "formation privilege" between a bishop and the priests under him (pun intended). That it is the bishop's "ecclesiastical duty to provide a lifetime of formative spiritual guidance to his priests" prevents the release of the requested information. God knows (pun not really intended) that I am all for the separation of church and state, but does anyone really believe the bishop is looking out for the individual priests in question or even protecting the penitent's right to communicate with a priest without fear of legal reprisal? He is trying to protect his own ass, first, and the public face of the church, second.

This week, the LA Weekly also ran a piece on Mahony's "hardball legal tactics in the clergy sex-abuse scandal". In it, they list 15 US bishops that have resigned or retired in relation to sexual misconduct or the cover-up of such offenses. Wait - I'm sorry - in relation to accusations of sexual misconduct or the cover-up of such supposed offenses. Mahony is just worried that he might end up #16.

Don't you think the Church should just come clean about any wrongdoings and try to put their dirty laundry behind them? I mean it worked for Hugh Grant. He admitted to his transgressions and he ended up starring in a movie called "About A Boy." Of course, he was only tied to a crack whore.

The more they try to hide the truth just adds to number of front page stories you'll see attacking the church and those front page stories only adds to the public perception of priests as potential pedophiles. Holy Alliteration, Batman! (Pun Intended)

wojr

Labels: News, Religion, Sex, Snide Remarks

  ¶ 12:14 AM 0 comments links to this post   

  "He Did It For Science"

Just when I was about to give up hope on all scientific studies, Warren Ellis points me here. (The second link contains slight nudity, but only of the synthetic variety)

Visit www.diepunyhumans.com for more of Warren Ellis's items of interest.

wojr

Labels: News, Sex, Whores

  ¶ 11:43 AM 0 comments links to this post