Where
the author tells you of the many things out there that make him want to
become a master thief with an exceptionally large basement to hoard the
myriad material things worth owning and loving.
day. The love of consumption is a shameful yet glorious thing as
evidenced by the many odd and showy collections many of us have in our
homes whether it be things we now regret [my 40 long boxes of comic books I’d part with for a pittance] or the ones we wear as badges of pride [my neatly organized and alphabetized to a “T” DVD collection].
Some folks say that these kinds of material things ruin us and make us
slaves to pop culture and for many it does. For others like myself,
some stuff whether frivolous or not, simply must be gotten. For those
people, I present this new subcolumn.
1. Put a Friend in Low Places.
It’s a shame I already took care of my gigantic FuckMan needs around Easter. Otherwise Big John would be taking up the 1/3rd of my King-Sized bed not occupied by myself, my wife, and Monsieur Huge, a little number I picked up at the local Goodwill. One thing to keep in mind: Astroglide or Bust with M. Huge… my buttocks looked like Nosferatu’s Slaughterhouse that first week.
But this Big John chap. Aces…
I mean, read the sales pitch:
“Mister Big John only wants to satisfy you [1.]. If
you wish, Big John also offers his behind [2.]. Or you can extract his penis
which becomes an vibrating suction dildo [3.]. Mind you, Big John has dark
hair and wears a moustache [4.]. Soft reinforced plastic material. With a
17.5cm long and 3.5cm wide removable penis. Variable speed.“
Let’s break this down.
[1.] I never settle on plastic sex men who have their own wants. If he comes to the relationship with demands I expect Big John to pick up some of the tab on Big John.
[2.] Then again, he offers his behind as if some delicacy from the Orient. Which it is…
[3.] Well, then he’s just like a REAL Cowboy!
[4.] SOLD.
Nicky’s Trivia:
- High tech 3-D rendering, cutting edge virtua cell animation, and a series of glitterballs create two-dimensional boots to always hover over Mr. Big John’s Big Johnson.
- With the optional flaccid penis feature, Big John can fit in perfectly at the local roller rink, transmission shop, or race riot.
- For half the price of Big John, you can have real-life Kenji or possibly [ransom payment pending] Jordan-Trevor.
- Don’t panic if you wake up to find Ryan Gosling inside your humunguos fuck puppet.
- Big John’s speeds include: “You Back There, Tiger?”, “O.K. Corral”, “Westworld Happens!”, and “”Dale Earnhardt Just Died!”.
The Playmobil Factory is often a haven for great things. I own more Playmobil toys than I care to mention for fear of having my scrotum repossessed [by Pazuzu I hope, I hope!].
But they have released an “African American Family” package that might not be the best thing ever. This is how a pre-eminent toymaker views the melanin enhanced cradle of lifers who we are more closely related to than David Dukes wants?
This may have been pulled from a secret interoffice memorandum at Playmobil HQ:
Mom is either a nurse, a BINGO enthusiast, or a recovering miraclewhipaholic. Her glazed over eyes convey a history of missed chances, scratch-off lottery tickets that yielded only more free losing tickets, and a short stint as a backup dancer for Me’shell Ndegéocello. She doesn’t want her kids, isn’t even sure if they’re hers. She smiles because she’s high on life. And drugs.
The eldest child is a basketball prodigy at first glance, but upon further inspection is revealed to be a sufferer of the birth defect Spherehand and unable to make use of a full set of mittens. He idolizes the family dog, Hawmps, but is assailed nightly by its ferocious jaws and pink protrusion. He one day hopes to open the world’s first 24 hour Fashion Bug but will happily settle for dying alone in his car at 17.
Hawmps is feral, rabid, and agoraphobic. He is the only member of the family the Playmobil Company feels has a future.
Dad has forgotten everything that happened between The Jeffersons and this afternoon.
The daughter is an avid collector of butterflies but has been given a net with holes bigger than every butterfly ever born. She will be bottoming for one of the Indigo Girls before nightfall.
Nicky’s Trivia:
- 20% of the sales of this product go towards the “Playmobil Employees Miniature Golf Outing” charity.
- 10% of the sales of this product go towards the “Playmobil Employees Miniature Swimming” charity.
- Works well with the new “There Goes The Neighborhood” playset.
- Joss Ackland does not approve of these figures.
- We’re not real sure if that’s the baby’s real daddy.
Tired of peanut buttering your Batch and turning K-9 into 69?
Maybe a bone shaped oddly like a hard-on will help move the day along a little more swimmingly. Maybe. Or, maybe your dog will turn the corner and want to gnash anything prick-shaped into a pile of brittle and impoverished pieces.
How’s about that, asshole?
Galileo.
I call bullshit on the Nylabone folks. What the fuck does a skywatching ancient have to do with putting a hard cock in your maw?
Use the link below to buy this delicacy.
Nicky’s Trivia- This product replaces the bone shaped like the top of your newborn son’s soft and malleable head.
- Everyone knows why Galileo is smiling.
- This will keep your mutt from chewing your cock away for about 15 extra minutes.
- Modeled after Hollywood legend Fred Ward’s Nose/Penis.
- Leave this in an orphanage and it’ll look like Nosferatu’s Slaughterhouse in seventeen minutes!
Going hunting? Well you’re a dick.
But, if you are going hunting then why not take with you a whole bag of stiff birds? Decoys make it easier [unless you’re Matt Hastings] to fake animals out you see. They see a totally immobile member of their own species who doesn’t respond to calls or body language and they immediately think they’ve found a lifelong friend.
BAM!
You shoot them and their body ends. Feathers shoot out in all directions. Excrement seeps into the morning soil. Bird blood happens.
In essense, SPORT!
Fuck this bag and any bag like it.
Nicky’s Trivia:
- It’s like a cute little nest of birds except the nest is a haven for avian holocausts.
- Look, they’re looking up as if for food from their mothers except there’s no mother and there’s no food. Only soulless plastic existence as they await their moment to lure their fleshy brethren into an assured and total avian holocaust.
- When zipped up and closed this could be simply a bag for carrying books or perhaps assorted garments. When opened, it is revealed that the only thing this bag can contain is a recipe for the bodily destruction of numerous avians. A holocaust, if you will.
- At $40 this bag is not cheep cheep.
19 comments
Wow, Nick. People who hunt are dicks? Really? Doesn't leave much room for the hyperbole required to adequately label your subhumanly retarded penchant for stereotyping and generalizing, does it?
Douche.
Good stuff today. The first bit was especially funny. As for the hunting comment-lighten up. The hyperbole is a joke. (though where smoke is fire)
People who hunt are, in fact, dicks. Rednecks with rather tiny dicks.
I know the first thing I think of when I disagree with someone is what's going on in their shorts. It always explains *everything*. I didn't need eight years in college for that.
Oh, look! Isn't it so cute and furry and full of life! Let's shoot it!
Life is murder, even plants engage in it. So have a steak and stop whining or please starve yourself to death and do us all a favor.
From personal experience, yes, people who hunt are dicks. Not because they hunt, but because, due to some sort personality malfunction, have no capacity for decency. I love the product of hunting — steak kicks ass — but have yet to interact with a pleasant human being who hunts for sport.
gotta agree with hunters being dicks. you have thousands of food choices and you choose to kill a defenseless animal? and there's no way you can argue it as a sport when you not only use a gun/compound bow, but also a scent blocker, camo, decoys, and anything else to overcome these animals' natural defenses to compensate for your lack of skill as a hunter. it's not sport when the animal has zero chance of survival. it's just killing something because you think it's fun. fuck you. only way I can condone hunting is if you do it with your bare hands. or a knife, because anyone can shoot a gun, but it takes a man to get close enough to stab.
you are all idiots. stop crying you hippies. i jerk off to the first ten minutes of bambi on a regular basis.
go eat your dollar menu burgers (made of animal, though not quality animal) after you get done watching battlestar gallactica.
you fat fucking losers.
people who hunt are cunts more like it.
"At $40 this bag is not cheep cheep."
Now, that's some funny shit!
Hehe, funny stuff. As for christ… jeebus, man, what's up your arse? Haven't you got your daily fix of killing stuff for kicks and giggles?
With any luck "melanin enhanced cradle of lifer" will come to replace the term "African-American." We can call them Mecols for short.
Since when did hippy become such an insult? Because South Park racist, obese, asshole character uses it? I'm not gay and I'm not overtly liberal but if you were to draw a line in sand I stand behind the so called "hippies" and "fags" over you ignorant pieces of human garbage.
I have to wonder: In what way does the staff here think the comments feature enhances the site? It's baffling to me. The comments provide nothing but despair.
Go eat some carrots and lettuce then you hypocritical FAG!!!!
I go hunting with big john all the time, we shoot some ducks and he always offers me his behind like a good hunting buddy should always do.
Man you fuckin PC hippie faggots need to butch up. Act like fucking men and kill something instead of whinning like a bunch of bitches. The whole limp wristed, emotional, metrosexual, political correct routine is scientifically proven to dry up a vagina faster than talcum powder so you homos ain't impressing anyone.
People who liked and positively reviewed the movie "Running Scared" are dicks…
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