The White House Correspondents’ Dinner was first established in 1920 to ensure better communication between the president and the press. Initially—and given the patriarchal nature of American society “back then”—only men were invited to attend.
Thank goodness President John F. Kennedy refused to attend in 1962 unless women were invited. Otherwise, this would have been nothing more than another Washington sausage fest… in a city still full of them, no less.
These days, the “Beltway gala” (or “nerd prom”) is used to raise money for journalism scholarships. The press and the Prez are always in attendance, but today’s event includes celebrities from Hollywood, sports, music, current events… you name it.
And it is always very entertaining. Take the event this past Saturday, which was no different and showed just how humorous our sitting president can be.
Being President of the United States is hard enough, but doing so without a sense of humor is even harder—just ask Gerald Ford, even though he only endured it (and us him) for a limited time. Fortunately, the same cannot be said for President Barack Obama, whose own brand of humor resembles mine in that it tosses the appropriate zingers but focuses primarily on self-targeted joking and self-inflicted wounding.
Check out some of the things he had to say.
ON HIS APPEARANCE: “These days I look in the mirror and I gotta admit: I’m not the strapping young Muslim socialist that I used to be.”
ON THE SEQUESTER: “Republicans fell in love with this thing. And now they can’t stop talking about how much they hate it—it’s like we’re trapped in a Taylor Swift album.”
ON THE HISTORY CHANNEL BEING ABSENT FROM THE DINNER AFTER THE DEPICTION OF SATAN IN “THE BIBLE” WAS SAID TO RESEMBLE THE PRESIDENT: “That never kept Fox News from showing up—they actually thought the comparison was not fair to Satan.“
ON CNN: Obama said that he admired their “commitment to cover all sides of the story, just in case one of them happens to be accurate.”
ON HIS REMARK THAT KAMALA HARRIS WAS THE COUNTRY’S “BEST-LOOKING ATTORNEY GENERAL”: “As you might imagine, I got in trouble when I got back home. Who knew (Attorney General) Eric Holder was so sensitive?”
Of course, the President wasn’t the only person who got in on the act. Comedian Conan O’Brien reprised his 1995 role as host and promised guests “two minutes of jokes, then 40 minutes on public employee pension reform.” And actor Kevin Spacey delighted the crowd with a spoof clip of his show House of Cards, only this was called House of Nerds.
The clip claims to be “secret footage” of how the Correspondents’ Dinner is planned and includes Spacey as his Majority Whip character from the show, Frank Underwood. It is hilarious and I strongly urge you to view it HERE.
All in all, Saturday was a good night in Washington because people lightened up, forgot about their political agendas and power trips, and spent some time laughing at each other. Famous people abounded, including John Legend, Sofia Vergara, Psy (even though I hate that song and dance… you know the one), Katy Perry, Matthew Perry (no relation) and Claire Danes, who stars in one of President Obama’s favorite shows, Homeland. And during a difficult time in our nation’s history—one that includes terrorism, natural disasters and other tragedies—this event reminded us all of one very important thing:
Sometimes you just have to stop and laugh. And sometimes, that’s all you can do.
If you have seen the 1994 Tom Hanks‘ film Forrest Gump, then you likely recognize my title as a piece of advice given to the simple-minded protagonist by his mother, played expertly by renowned actress Sally Field.
And let’s face it: Who hasn’t seen this film? It won all sorts of Oscars, for goodness sake, including Best Picture, Best Actor and Best Director, among others.
It was a cultural phenomenon. Or at the very least, a pop cultural phenomenon.
At any rate, the basic idea behind Ms. Gump’s advice is sound: stupid people are only viewed as such because they do stupid things. And please know that I don’t toss around the word “stupid” very often and have been teaching my son that calling someone stupid is wrong.
That doesn’t change the fact that stupidity exists, though. And these days, it seems to be spreading faster than venereal disease in a whorehouse, for lack of a better expression. Just scan the news and you will see examples of stupidity everywhere.
Actually, don’t worry about it because, true to form, I scanned the news myself and found plenty of evidence to substantiate my claim. Here are some of the stories that caught my attention and that prove no matter where you go or how far from home you travel, the odds of encountering someone who makes stupid decisions are always high.
Just remember this: you don’t have to be stupid to make a dumb decision. In all of these cases, flexing that muscle between their ears a little more could have yielded different—and even more favorable—results for the individuals mentioned here. And at the very least, it would have kept me from blogging about them at all.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t look as if that will happen. So here you go: four stories that prove “stupid is as stupid does.” Thanks to Ms. Gump for articulating this so well, by the way.
Sergeant Ron King, a firearms instructor for the Port Canaveral Police Department, was fired last Friday for possessing and using silhouette targets with a familiar figure on them, and one that has caused quite an uproar.
The targets looked like Trayvon Martin, the 17-year-old shot in 2012 by George Zimmerman, a community watch captain who is currently awaiting trial on second-degree murder charges.
According to King—who was fired for this incident—the targets were being used to train officers in “no shoot” scenarios. In other words, they were like the alien targets Will Smith faced in the original Men in Black film: some were threats, some weren’t… and it was up to the officers to determine which ones to shoot.
While I can understand King’s motivation for using “no shoot” targets, the way he handled it was unacceptable and completely insensitive. Why, you ask?
The figure on each target was wearing a dark hoody, holding a can of iced tea and had a bag of Skittles candy in his pocket. All of these mirror Trayvon Martin on the night he was shot and killed.
Unfortunately, it seems as if King disagrees. And in his mind, using the targets wasn’t even the problem.
“The only stupid act I performed was to believe that some of my co-workers would be mature enough and care enough to use a bad situation as a learning tool,” he said later. And when he finally summoned up the courage to apologize for his actions, even his apology seemed to shift the blame from himself.
“To the Martin family, I would like to apologize for those law enforcement officials that chose to use your son’s death as an element for their personal and political gains,” King had the nerve to say. “I assure you that the use of these targets that are in question is to prevent a tragedy from taking place.”
Little does he know that in using these targets, he caused yet another tragedy, at least for the family who lost their son last year and now have to relive that horror even further in the media.
Way to rub salt in that wound, my man. And thanks for doing something stupid when just a little forethought could have prevented all of this, and probably saved your job, too!
Our next story keeps the “brainless law enforcement” train rolling and this time involves someone who should certainly know better: Danville Police Chief Wade Parsons.
On Friday, Parsons was cited for an incident that occurred at his home last month. Basically, he left his service weapon—a .40-caliber Glock 22 pistol—loaded and lying on top of a safe in his bedroom closet. Then he left to run some errands.
Little did he know, but the 15-year-old son of his girlfriend, a boy never known for depression or any other serious psychological issues, found the pistol and used it to commit suicide.
Parsons discovered the boy’s body when he returned home a short time later.
Oddly enough, this irresponsible police chief will face no serious charges related to the boy’s suicide. Instead, he was charged with violating a state law that requires the secure storage of any firearm that could be accessed by a minor without parental consent. And get ready for this: the maximum fine for such a transgression is $1000.
Honestly, I’m not really sure what to say aside from this: Is a young man’s life really only worth $1000? Or better yet, should law enforcement officials “get off the hook” for making mistakes that cost others their lives?
I bet the same punishment wouldn’t apply if Parsons had accidentally shot the kid himself while on duty. Or maybe it would. Neither situation makes this punishment very easy to stomach, especially for the mother who lost her child in this unfortunate turn-of-events.
For our next example of stupidity in action, we jump “across the pond” to America’s surrogate mother, Great Britain. And believe me: this example takes stupid to a whole new level—and on a more global stage than it should likely be.
John Sweeney is a BBC reporter also known for his investigative journalism on the network’s primetime current-affairs program Panorama. Last month, he decided to try to obtain the scoop of a lifetime—or at least a pretty good story based on current events: a behind-the-scenes look at North Korea from inside the country itself.
Well, if you have been following the news lately—and few of us can escape it anymore—then you likely know that Kim Jong Un, North Korea’s latest and most ridiculous dictator, has been acting very strangely these past few months. Out of nowhere—and please excuse the fact that I am American and as such, quite biased—he started amassing weapons, testing missiles and threatening a nuclear attack against the U.S. and its allies around the world. Annual military tests in South Korea—which occur every year around this time—have been viewed as an act of aggression. And despite sending our most capable diplomatic emissary there to consult with him—I am speaking, of course, of the skilled negotiator, former NBA coattail rider Dennis Rodman—Kim Jong Un continues to “amp up” his rhetoric along with his most prominent character trait: paranoia.
In other words, he isn’t the type of guy who normally welcomes journalists—especially Western journalists—into his isolated nation. Remember what happened to those two American journalists who were arrested in 2009 and sentenced to outrageous prison terms? They were only on the border between China and North Korea. Imagine what would have happened if they were discovered “in country.” Not even ex-President Bill Clinton could have saved them then!
Incidentally—and for those unfamiliar with this story—it took Bill to get these guys out of trouble. And even that took some doing.
So booking a trip and visiting the northern part of this split peninsula—just for some sightseeing on “holiday”—was never an option for Sweeney. He needed to infiltrate the country. And last month, he found the perfect cover.
A group of students from the London School of Economics and Political Science (LSE) were headed to North Korea for academic purposes, so Sweeney falsely claimed to be one of the doctoral students, completed an application for entry into the country and simply told the others he was a journalist and would be joining them. Sweeney’s wife and a cameraman came along and, for all intents and purposes, the trip went off without a hitch.
Only recently did anyone “clue in” to the fact that what Sweeney did wasn’t only stupid; it was also quite dangerous, at least to the students he used as camouflage.
“The students were not given enough information to enable informed consent,” the LSE said in their most recent statement. “Yet [they] were given enough to put them in serious danger if the subterfuge had been uncovered prior to their departure from North Korea.”
This brings up a good point: Why didn’t Sweeney conceal everything so the students would know nothing? I’m sure that he and his companions could have all posed as students, especially since Sweeney lied on his application and got away with it. Security obviously wasn’t as tight, at least not for those travelling as scholars and academics. That way, if his cover was blown, everyone was arrested and people were questioned, they could all respond with something best described in the film Independence Day: plausible deniability.
Wouldn’t that have been at least a little safer, not to mention far less stupid? I think so.
Now think about this. And again, this is the American coming out in me.
How do you think Kim Jong Un is going to feel about someone sneaking in to spy on his country? Sweeney already said that the North Korean government was “very angry” about what happened. In other words, Kim Jong Un is very angry. And since he isn’t thinking straight—given all the craziness I mentioned earlier—pissing him off further really isn’t the best idea.
Not that Sweeney sees anything wrong with it.
“We go in and we tell a lie to the North Koreans,” he told reporters recently. “And I believe that’s journalistically fine and proper.”
Easy for him to say! We’re the ones Kim Jong wants to nuke into oblivion! Sure, he mentioned our “allies”—which obviously includes the UK—but who do you think he’s coming after first?
The good news is that everyone got out of North Korea, no one was hurt and the footage Sweeney collected is safe. Of course, Craig Calhoun—Director of the LSE—mentioned that the Panorama program “seems to have found no new information and only [showed] what North Korea wants tourists to see.”
Glad to see it was all worth it. And rather than calling Sweeney a jackass—a truly American term, I think—I instead award him a moniker that my British brothers and sisters undoubtedly prefer. Because if ever there was a wanker, he would probably be it.
The final stop on the Stupidity Tour 2013 is stateside in New York, more specifically at Albany High School in the city of the same name.
A teacher at the school is in hot water after giving students a writing assignment about everyone’s favorite mass-murdering regime, the Nazis. Only this wasn’t some book report or reflection paper on the horrors of the Holocaust; it was something much darker and—to many students, parents and even administrators—extremely offensive.
The assignment asked students to prove their loyalty to the “Motherland”—namely Nazi Germany—by arguing that Jews are “evil” and causing more problems to the country and its government than they’re worth. Here’s what it said on the actual assignment sheet:
“You must argue that Jews are evil, and use solid rationale from government propaganda to convince me of your loyalty to the Third Reich!” The me in this statement is supposed to be some kind of educator within the Nazi government.
Needless to say, people made quite a stink over this—including almost a third of the students asked to complete it (out of three classes)—and the school is considering disciplinary action against the insensitive teacher, who I believe has been removed from the classroom pending an investigation. Odds are that he or she will eventually be fired over this anyway.
While I can understand what this teacher was trying to do—and have always found Nazi propaganda to be very interesting, given all these guys turned out to be complete psychos—it strikes me as somewhat stupid (again with that word) that he or she didn’t first consider the potential consequences. To be honest, I kind of like the assignment because it forces students to think about the reasons something as horrific as the Holocaust could have occurred, not to mention the importance of preventing something similar from ever happening again. And it shows how information, art, advertising and deception can all be utilized to mislead not just one person, but a whole nation of people.
However, there is a better way to present it. And simply handing it out in some of your classes—knowing those kids will be returning home to discuss it with their parents (most likely)—isn’t what I would recommend. Instead, why not send a letter or email to parents asking them to critique the assignment first? Or treat it as a kind of permission slip where students select one of a few controversial assignments and secure parental approval before returning to school? Hell, just running it by some other teachers could have prevented this backlash!
I hate to call any educator stupid, but what this person did—or at least how he or she went about it—certainly qualifies. I guess there won’t be any “Teacher of the Year” awards in their future, huh?
As the train of stupidity finally pulls into the station, I find myself wondering about another story I heard just before leaving work. Earlier today—and at the time I’m writing this it is Monday evening—several bombs detonated near the finish line of the Boston Marathon in Massachusetts. If I remember correctly, several people were confirmed dead and another dozen or two were injured. And this was at a sporting event visited by people—and competitors—from all over the world, which proves my point even further.
Stupid people are all around us. And worse, some of them are extremely dangerous and may even try to hurt us. Just look at those poor people in Boston. Wouldn’t someone capable of injuring and killing innocent people have to be stupid anyway?
Be good to each other. And by all means, watch your back… or each others’ backs. Whatever the case may be.
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In any good film about thieves attempting to pull off the perfect crime, the anti-heroes stay one step ahead of the cops using sophisticated methods, cutting-edge technology and well-planned strategy.
In real life, however, the opposite is usually true. Instead of savvy jewel thieves sneaking into the bedrooms of the rich and pilfering grandmother’s pearls, we end up with ignorant, misguided nuts attempting to hold up bank tellers with bananas or cell phones.
Fortunately, the stupidity of criminals isn’t limited to just the USA. It’s an international phenomenon that makes law enforcement officials everywhere scratch their heads in disbelief on a regular basis.
Take the latest “crime spree” from our Colombian friends in South America.
Yesterday morning in the small Colombian town of Juan de Acosta, three criminals went on a rampage that began with the theft of Xavi, a 10-year-old donkey. Their plan was to use Xavi as a pack mule (in a manner of speaking) and getaway vehicle.
You read that right: a getaway vehicle. That makes about as much sense as strapping turtles to your feet before a marathon, but perhaps it’s a cultural thing.
At any rate, the three criminal masterminds broke into a grocery store in the wee hours of the morning, stole a bunch of food and booze, loaded it onto Xavi and tried to flee with their booty.
Xavi would have nothing of it, though.
According to reports, the stolen donkey started to bray loudly as the men made their “speedy” getaway. The police heard the noise and found Xavi loaded down with loot, but the thieves were nowhere to be found. They apparently cut out on foot once their getaway vehicle started bellowing.
For now, Xavi is being held by police as an accessory to the robbery and could face some serious jail time if convicted.
The donkey was detained for 12 hours by police, but is now safely back at home with his proud owner. However, the three men who tried to force Xavi into a life of crime remain at large.
Given the intelligent nature of their latest caper, however, I doubt they pose any real threat to the community. And if they learned anything from this miserable failure of a robbery, I hope it’s that next time, a horse might be preferable to a donkey.
At least that way there will be only three asses on the team instead of four.
The world we live in keeps getting stranger and stranger.
In Brisbane, Australia, two crooks named Peter Welsh and Dwayne Doolan were busted after they tried to tunnel into a jewelry store and mistakenly ended up in a Kentucky Fried Chicken restaurant. They held up the customers and escaped with just over $2500, but were picked up a short time later.
The funny thing is that this wasn’t the first time the pair tried to break into this particular jewelry store. On one occasion, they tossed spark plugs at the store’s windows in the hopes of breaking them. I’m still not sure how that was supposed to work.
And on another occasion, they mistakenly broke into an animal welfare shop and left with only $50 they found in a collection plate.
I think it’s time these guys found a different profession. Fortunately, they will have plenty of time to think about it in jail.
Speaking of jail, a funny thing happened at the Arapiraca prison in northeast Brazil. On New Year‘s Day, guards outside the prison gate noticed a white cat trying to enter the grounds. A closer look revealed that this was no ordinary cat, though.
Taped to the cat’s body was a grab bag of tools perfectly suited to a prison break. Included were a saw, a mobile phone, drills, a memory card, batteries, an earphone and even a phone charger!
Local police are investigating and consider all 263 of the prison inmates to be suspects in the feline-centered plot. And a prison spokesperson put the whole thing in perspective during a recent interview with a local paper: “It’s tough to find out who’s responsible for the action as the cat doesn’t speak.”
Just between you and me, I think the kitty acted alone.
Finally we move to Rocklin, California, where two teenagers were arrested and booked into a juvenile hall recently. Apparently, one of the girls wasn’t happy with her parents’ rule of no Internet access after 10 p.m. So she and a friend crumbled up some prescription sleep medication, slipped it into her parents’ milkshakes and waited for them to pass out, which they did within the hour.
Around 1 a.m., the drugged-up parents awoke with hangover-like symptoms, including headaches and grogginess. They took drug tests later that morning and when they came back positive, immediately contacted the police.
Since the presidential election is only a week away—and being something of a procrastinator—I figured now was the time to announce my candidacy for your next Commander-in-Chief. I know this is unexpected and may even be perceived as lazy, but hear me out. For a year or more, we have all been subjected to endless campaign advertisements and constant political posturing. Why force a third candidate on the American people when they have obviously suffered enough?
Positive Presidential Trait #1: Mercy.
I also find the price tag of a presidential campaign to be far too expensive. How can we justify spending hundreds of millions of dollars on television spots, direct mail flyers, placards, publicity agents and other campaign “necessities” when there are so many Americans out of work? Sorry, but my conscience won’t allow that, so I opted to keep the campaigning to a minimum: this post. It would be nice if enough of my fellow Americans read this, voted for me as a write-in candidate and actually sent me to Washington, but I’m realistic. I know it’s a long shot, but I figure, what the hell?
Positive Presidential Trait #2: Bravery—and maybe a little Faith (for you Tea Party folks out there).
Of course, no presidential campaign would be complete with some promises. I was about to write “empty promises” but for once, there is a candidate willing to tell it like it is—someone who isn’t afraid to speak the truth. And that someone is obviously ME!
If you elect me as your next President of the United States of America, I promise to…
…blame the previous administration for everything that’s wrong while taking credit for anything positive they put into motion.
…put an end to homework! Sorry. That was apparently some deep-seeded memory of a middle-school election I have tried hard to forget. A story for another time, perhaps.
…use Air Force One to take summer vacations to Atlantis Resort, Rio de Janeiro, Hawaii or some other exotic locale. Hey, I’m just being honest. I suppose there could be some kind of lottery so normal Americans could win invitations to join us. We could fill up the plane, book a resort and throw down Presidential style… whatever that is.
…pretend the millions of jobs economists predict will be created over the next four years have something to do with me.
…use cigars only as intended—for smoking. Since I don’t smoke cigars, though, this shouldn’t be a problem. I do smoke cigarettes, but they are far less durable and I doubt anyone could derive any erotic pleasure from them. Or could they? I suppose it is possible. After all, there are people who get off on poo poo and pee pee, and that’s just nasty.
…appear at as many of your children’s birthday parties as my schedule allows. We all know the President isn’t as busy as he lets on. The VP runs around the country, the Secretary of State travels the world and he just has to sit back and chill. Why not spend some of that “down time” making balloon animals, telling jokes and doing parlor tricks for a bunch of snot-nosed… I mean gifted… kids? They are the future.
…show my gratitude by releasing some juicy, previously confidential information, like the truth about Area 51, the Kennedy assassination, Roswell… you name it. Visit my website to vote—it will launch once I take office—and help determine which secrets get revealed!
…bring peace to the Middle East through democracy and… sorry… I can’t even write that, it’s so far-fetched!
…tell you everything and be as transparent as the Invisible Man, even if it causes panic in the streets, rioting, a zombie apocalypse… whatever. America has a right to know, damn it!
…implement policies or start projects that require more than four years to complete so you will have no choice but to re-elect me. Good politics take time, so eight years works much, much better.
Positive Presidential Trait #3: Sense of Humor—Decide for yourself if it’s good or bad.
Finally, I offer a little information about myself so you can rest easy I’m no freak. I have no criminal record, adult or juvenile, and have never committed a major crime. Technically, speeding and urinating in public are crimes, but they’re more the “little white crime” variety, if you know what I mean.
I don’t attend church—mostly because Sundays are my holy football days and church clothes are too itchy and uncomfortable—but I’m open to it and certainly don’t mind if others go. Faith is a good thing. And no, it isn’t for the Tea Party people this time. I really mean it.
Most of all, I’m a decent person. I won’t abuse the position if I can help it—maybe some late-night grilled cheese sandwiches or barbecued ribs from the White House chef, but nothing major. And I certainly couldn’t do any worse than anyone before or after me. Hell, I’m just what this election needs: a non-politician with bipartisan inclinations. So next week when you hit the polls and elbow through those annoying campaign “scalpers” working the door, do us all a favor.
Vote for me!
Positive Presidential Trait #4: Sincerity—I genuinely feel your pain. And I think you know what I mean, don’t you?
On Tuesday afternoon, William Liddell of Golden Gate, Florida, was seen smashing a car with his van and immediately fleeing the scene. Witnesses contacted police, who caught up with Liddell soon after.
As an officer approached Liddell’s van, he heard the driver say what sounded like “oh shit.” The officer drew closer until the van suddenly shifted into reverse and Liddell’s fist flew from the window and struck him in the face. A fight ensued until backup arrived and Liddell could be wrestled to the ground.
Once Liddell was detained, one of the officers started photographing his injuries. That’s when he made a disgusting discovery: Liddell had crapped in his pants.
Whether Liddell’s exclamation of “oh shit” referred to his impending arrest or the hot, stinky load in his drawers has yet to be determined.
Why do farts stink? So even the deaf can enjoy them, too.
How can you tell if a woman is wearing pantyhose? When she farts, her ankles swell.
Laugh and the world laughs with you; fart and they will stop laughing.
Despite being rather crude, fart jokes are funny, popular and timeless. They have been around for as long as I can remember. And while I can’t recall many of them, I always enjoy hearing them from friends and family members.
This year hasn’t seen an increase in fart jokes, but farts in general have been in the news much more frequently. Here are some of the stinkiest stories to grace the headlines in 2012.
16-year-old high school student Shaakira Dorsey teased one of her classmates for farting in class and a fight broke out. Before her stepfather could break things up, Dorsey collapsed and was rushed to the hospital, where she was pronounced dead. Her attacker has been charged with murder and will appear in court next week. And it’s all because of something we all do naturally: pass gas, poot, fart, float air biscuits… take your pick.
Last month, Orlando Magic basketball star Dwight Howard was traded to the Los Angeles Lakers. When asked what he would miss most about Howard, Magic forward Glen Davis said, “The thing we’re going to miss most about Dwight is his farting ability. He can fart loud.” This echoes a similar comment from Magic coach Stan Van Gundy in 2009. Because of Howard’s “pungent power,” Van Gundy implemented a no-flatulence rule since Howard “likes to cut the cheese.”
I always wondered why professional basketball players made slam dunking the ball look so easy. They have extra propulsion. Duh!
Also this month was a truly bizarre farting story that shut down a suburban street and almost led to the evacuation of its residents.
Eric Wilson is a husband and father with a taste for bean burritos. One evening, as he sat in his living room after another delicious meal, Wilson farted. Within seconds, his wife and kids smelled it and mistook it for a gas leak. Wilson denied that he farted, so his lady called the police to report the leak. They came, closed off the street, talked about bringing in army support and almost evacuated the neighborhood. Finally, Wilson confessed to farting and apologized to his family, the authorities and his community.
Prior to his record-breaking free fall from a high-altitude balloon capsule over the New Mexico desert, doctors placed daredevil Felix Baumgartner on a low fiber diet to prevent flatulence during his jumps. Apparently, ripping a fart could be disastrous, presumably by shifting pressure and causing Baumgartner to tumble uncontrollably. Or it could be the foul stench locked in his space suit that knocks him out and leaves him to plummet to his death.
I suspect it’s a combination of both.
Whatever the case may be, there is no denying that farts are big news these days. And rightfully so, since they are killing people (albeit indirectly), getting people in trouble with the law, helping athletes reach new heights and threatening to ground skydivers.
And that’s only this year, the so-called Year of the Fart. I’m afraid to know what next year will bring!
Masturbation can be a touchy subject because a lot of people are afraid to admit they do it. And believe me, they do. Thankfully, I’ve never had this problem because I’m not shy and I believe in being truthful. So yes, I have and will continue to “flog the bishop,” not because it’s all that necessary anymore, but because I like it. And I’m fairly certain a number of you do, too.
I know this is a weird subject on which to blog, but I was thinking today about the evolution of masturbatory tools in my lifetime, including the advent of all things technological. That’s why I coined the phrase “techno-masturbation.” At least I hope I coined it. Honestly, I haven’t researched it so for now, I take full credit for it.
Techno-masturbation is exactly what it sounds like: masturbation involving some kind of technology. Whether it’s a computer, a cell phone or something I’m currently unaware of, technology has changed the face of self-love and deserves further investigation. Plus it’s interesting as hell, at least to me.
When I first started having those feelings—and when I first noticed that my fleshy friend would grow when I saw a beautiful woman—I immediately wondered what was wrong with me. Then a friend told me the reason this was happening, as well as how to “benefit” from it. Given our shared heterosexual status, he didn’t demonstrate it for me, but he gave me enough detailed instructions for me to perform the act myself. As soon as I was alone and the situation arose (pun intended), I grabbed a woman’s fitness magazine and found a secluded bathroom in which to pleasure myself. Some Jergen’s hand lotion was the final piece of the puzzle and before I knew it, I was well on my way.
It was awesome.
As I got older, though, normal magazines and bra advertisements in newspaper sales sections were no longer good enough. I needed something stronger and more explicit. So I found the same friend who turned me on to this intimate act and he helped me again. We raided his father’s collection of Playboy magazines, threw them into a garbage bag and stashed them in the woods near our homes. Anytime we were in the mood, we could venture into the secluded forest—individually, of course—and take care of business.
And there’s something to be said for masturbating outdoors. It adds an element of danger because at any moment, someone could see what you’re doing. The woods were private and our stash was far from the road, but I sometimes found myself getting closer and closer to it. It was simply more exciting that way.
Eventually, someone destroyed our stash and I found the bag and a few magazines shredded on the road. Had someone seen me and done this on purpose? Did raccoons get a hold of them and chew them up? To this day, I have no idea what the truth is, but it matters little. I had moved beyond simple magazines and was ready for more.
My first techno-masturbation experience involved one of the first internet search engines: Prodigy. Back then it was all about chat rooms, so finding stimulation took some doing. You couldn’t get all that dirty because in the early days, there were no private rooms. Anyone there could see what you were typing, which meant a lot of sexual innuendo was needed. Fortunately, my imagination has always been pretty vivid, so I made it work.
Then came true internet porn, and that’s when the proverbial flood gates opened.
The earliest cyber porn was much different from the multitude of adult sites today. Most of what you found was completely free, which was incredible. Sure, there were still weirdo sites with farm animals and poop parties, but there were also tons of amateur sites with some of the most gorgeous women I had ever seen. And they were all being serviced by guys who made me feel very inferior. At least I had hope that someday perhaps I would be carrying around an elephant’s trunk, too. Too bad that never happened.
Later in life, my need for porn subsided because finally, I could find real women to help me out.
Nowadays, there are almost too many options to consider for one-man lovemaking, and most of them are wonders of technology. Computers are still at the forefront, but now you’re not just limited to porn pictures and videos. Webcams have been around for a while, but now sites like Skype make it far too easy to share your “twig and berries” with the world. What’s more, if you get close enough to the camera—most of which are now built-in to computer monitors and laptop screens—you can make your junk look huge. Hell, you can probably even add special effects if you’re interested in a sepia or rainbow-colored dong. Or maybe even a nice slogan running down the length of your shaft.
Whatever you desire is out there.
Cell phones also contribute to the techno-masturbation effect. Things like “sex-ting” are all over the news because sadly, teenagers who are far too young seem to be doing it more and more. I certainly don’t support this trend, but I can understand it. For them, cell phones are like the Playboy magazines I used to use in my endeavors. Only now, you can even photograph your sex parts and shoot them out to anyone you like—hoping of course that you receive photos in return. And don’t even get me started on video.
Where do we go from here? Good question. Technology is constantly changing and I have no idea what to expect next. Maybe someone will invent an “adult computer” that includes a port large enough for Mr. Johnson, or that allows for “muscle relaxers” to be plugged in and vibrated by your hard drive (for all you lovely ladies out there). Whatever happens, I know one thing for sure:
Techno-masturbation is the future. And what a bright future it is.
What is it about being naked that can be so liberating, yet so terrifying at the same time? If you’re like me, then the answer is likely obvious: nudity is our natural state and should be comfortable, but our hang-ups about body image prevent it from being so.
Of course, there are always exceptions. I’m sure celebrities like Brad Pitt and Kim Kardashian aren’t worried about their bodies being judged as ugly because they are both pretty attractive and likely remain so when the clothes come off. I’m more concerned about average folks like you and me who can’t afford personal trainers, regular spa excursions or the healthiest foods. For us, being ashamed of our bodies just comes with the territory.
I won’t lie. I love naked women of all shapes and sizes because, as I’ve said before, testosterone drives my attractions. It can be impossible to control, so I find myself admiring all sorts of lovely ladies. And I have always been this way.
When I was a child, I found myself drawn to bra advertisements in newspapers and Sears catalogs. As a teenager, I teamed up with other guys my age and started “confiscating” Playboy magazines from our fathers. Granted, my dad never had any lying around the house, but some of my buddies’ fathers were true connoisseurs of the female form and had stacks of them hidden in secret places, most of which we discovered. For years, we had a secret stash of them in the woods near our homes, wrapped in a trash bag to protect them from the elements. Anytime we wanted, we could venture there to peep at the most beautiful and interesting women in the world, or at least that’s how we viewed them. We even read the Playmate profiles to see which ones had good personalities to boot.
Sadly, my last trip to the woods ended in horror as I found the trash bag missing. Not only that, but I soon discovered the bag and several magazines shredded and strewn across a nearby street. The mystery continues because even now, I have no idea who did this or what could have motivated them to destroy such beauty. None of my friends knew, either, or so they claimed. I still have my doubts about a few of them.
Naked women are great, but nude men are another story altogether. I think Julia Louis-Dreyfuss’ character on “Seinfeld,” Elaine Benes, said it best: “The female body is a work of art. The male body is utilitarian. It’s for getting around. It’s like a Jeep.” How right she was.
Although I can recognize men as being handsome or in good shape or appealing to women, they just don’t do it for me. And naked men appeal to me even less, especially “normal” guys with beer bellies and untamed body hair. Bear in mind that I include myself in this group, too.
It’s difficult for me to understand how women can find guys like this attractive when they’re naked. Is it possible some of them have a fetish for hairy backs and flab? Or perhaps an agreeable “flesh torpedo” is enough for them to overlook other physical flaws, but not all guys are blessed with great equipment. And I find it hard to believe that a 400-pound man would be deemed attractive simply because he had a boa constrictor down below. It really is a mystery.
Personally, I hate being naked unless I’m showering, changing clothes or hooking up with a woman. This last one might sound strange unless you remember that she will also be stripping down. It’s almost as if her shame cancels out my own. And you always have the option of doing it in the dark and simply letting your fingers do the walking. Sometimes it’s just more fun that way.
Would I ever consider visiting a nude beach or nudist colony, though? Hell no, and I’ll tell you why. In their minds, many guys think of these places as havens for hot, uninhibited or even loose women. They forget that the majority of people you find at these places are older and more wrinkled than anyone cares to see. Sure, you might find the occasional sexy lady or well-endowed guy there, but the odds definitely aren’t in your favor. And since even the children are naked—including teenagers on the cusp of adulthood—it all seems a little too inappropriate. After all, guys have no way of hiding their attraction once Captain Baldy stands at attention. I guess that’s the point where they simply dig a hole in the sand and sun their backs for a while, huh?
Nudist colonies freak me out for a number of other reasons. For one, the male penis is a temperamental organ that isn’t always impressive to women. Some guys have all the length and girth they need, but there are others who “grow but don’t show.” These poor men may be unfairly judged when, in reality, they still possess what women want. It just takes some stimulation to make this obvious, and I’ve already mentioned how problematic this could be. I don’t know a lot of nudists, but I’m sure they would frown upon any guy who walked around with wood all day, you know?
Being a nudist also puzzles me because honestly, there are lots of mundane activities that could be potentially dangerous to naked folks. Frying bacon immediately comes to mind because of all the spattering grease, but an apron might prevent any burns. Other tasks might not be as dangerous, but could be offensive in a different way. For instance, I don’t care to see someone sanding their floor naked or doing nude yoga. Some things are simply better with clothing.
Thankfully, there are people out there who look great nude and who give hope to the rest of us. And no, they aren’t all celebrities or athletes. Many are normal folks who simply take very good care of their bodies and don’t mind showing them off. I also know people who simply don’t concern themselves with physical appearances and instead get to know people for who they are. Their attractions might be based on shared values, common experiences or other similarities. And I commend them for being so open-minded because sadly, they seem to be the minority.
Whether we admit it or not, many of us judge others first by their appearances and then look for more meaningful ways to connect with them. We are the products of a media-driven society that puts a lot of emphasis on beauty, usually in an unrealistic way. That’s why we have teenage girls suffering from anorexia and bulimia, guys willing to inject Botox into their faces and women addicted to plastic surgery. I’m even suspicious of the media conspiring with clothing manufacturers, who produce everything we need to cover up the bodies we’re so ashamed of. Stranger things have happened, to be sure.
I guess my advice to you, dear readers, is this: accept your body and be proud of who you are. Being naked is supposed to be a good thing, or at least that’s how it started if you buy into the whole Adam and Eve thing. Only when they felt shame for being naked did it become a problem. Prior to that, things seemed to be pretty good in the Garden of Eden. I hope we can somehow return to that mindset and learn to appreciate our physical differences. After all, variety is the spice of life.
Now go get naked and enjoy yourselves. Just be careful if you start to crave some bacon.