Category Archives: Perspectives
In 2010, Massachusetts authorities received numerous complaints from the transit police about 32-year-old Michael Robertson, who was allegedly taking upskirt photographs and video footage of women on the trolley.
For those of you unfamiliar with upskirt photos—and despite the name being pretty self-explanatory—they involve cell phones placed under the skirts of unsuspecting victims (generally females) to snap pictures of their “unmentionables.” Some victims may be wearing underwear while some may be “going commando,” but you can bet all of them end up posted on the Internet sooner or later. There are hundreds—if not thousands—of sites devoted solely to this sketchy branch of voyeurism… or so I’ve heard.
Based on these complaints, police set up a decoy operation to bust Robertson and, true to form, he walked right into their trap. Several officers observed him placing a cell phone video camera up a woman’s skirt. And we’re not talking about just any woman, either—it was a female police officer!
Robertson was of course arrested and charged with two counts of “attempting to secretly photograph a person in a state of partial nudity.” Facing misdemeanor charges that could send him to prison for nearly three years, he immediately filed a motion with a lower court to have the case dismissed. Robertson’s lawyers contended that none of his so-called “victims” were nude or even partially nude at the time their upskirt photos were taken. Furthermore, the victims were also in a public place where none of them had a “reasonable expectation of privacy.”
Unfortunately for Robertson, his motion was quickly denied—at least until this past week, thanks to some recent developments.
On Wednesday, Massachusetts’ highest court reversed the lower court’s decision not to dismiss Robertson’s case because the state law “does not apply to photographing (or videotaping or electronically surveilling) persons who are fully clothed and, in particular, does not reach the type of upskirting that the defendant is charged with attempting to accomplish on the Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority (MBTA).”
“In sum, we interpret the phrase, ‘a person who is … partially nude’ in the same way that the defendant does, namely, to mean a person who is partially clothed but who has one or more of the private parts of body exposed in plain view at the time that the putative defendant secretly photographs her,” the high court also stated in their ruling.
You read that correctly: it is now legal in Massachusetts to take upskirt photographs of anyone you like. So to all you ladies in that great state, it might be time to consider a little fashion change… to pants!
Or if you must wear a skirt, at least some panties. You just never know who might be watching.
UPDATE (March 7, 2014): A mere day after posting this article, Governor Deval Patrick of Massachusetts signed a bill that criminalizes “upskirting” as a misdemeanor punishable by 2 1/2 years in jail and a $5000 fine. Sorry, perverts. Time to find a new hobby, I guess.
After posting at least one article each day for more than a year and a half, it wasn’t sloth, boredom or even a natural disaster that finally ended my streak; it was a stomach bug.
Yes, for the last two days I have been a wretched and disgusting mess thanks to some kind of stomach virus my son passed on to me. He’s only six and his school is little more than a Petri dish for germs and bacteria, so I certainly can’t blame him. All I can do is try to recover and, to be honest, day two still has me feeling shaky and weak.
I stopped puking my guts out every few hours, so at least I know that I’m getting better.
Of course, blogging yesterday was impossible for any number of reasons, not the least of which was the lack of space for a laptop on the bathroom floor. Even if it had fit, I’m sure it would be useless once I covered it in vomit. And I’m confident that’s how things would have played out, so I didn’t bother risking it.
Feeling slightly better today, I did manage to drag my ass up to my office to access my desktop computer. It’s older and if I destroy it with regurgitated bodily fluids, at least I’ll have an excuse to replace it. I even managed to troll the news headlines, just to see if there was anything that piqued my interest. And it didn’t take me long to find something relatable to my current and miserable state, either.
It was a story about a virus.
Apparently, scientists working in Siberia recently uncovered a giant virus dating back 30,000 years—around the time that wooly mammoths and saber-tooth tigers walked the earth. Pithovirus sibericum—a newly discovered third family of giant viruses that infects amoebas but is harmless to humans—was found in the Siberian permafrost, which like most polar regions is thawing at an alarming rate. And scientists warn that buried even deeper in the ice could be the next big threat to life on this planet.
“This is an indication that viruses pathogenic for human or animals might also be preserved in old permafrost layers,” co-author of the study Jean-Michel Claverie indicated, “including some that have caused planet-wide epidemics in the past.”
Personally, I think I’ll stick with the stomach bug…
It’s been awhile since I awarded anyone for being the so-called Jackass of the Day. I guess part of me still believed what my mother always told me: if you don’t have anything nice to say about someone, then don’t say anything at all. Of course, this has never prevented me from criticizing fellow humans who do wrong or act in harmful or even ridiculous ways, so why stop now?
I should also point out that—as an English major—I was always taught to select the most appropriate word for the situation. And since the word jackass seems most appropriate in this forum—even though some other, meaner terms could be applied—I decided it would work best. Hopefully, you will agree once you read about my award winners, as well as their recent exploits.
Today’s Jackass of the Day Award was difficult to assign since there were so many good candidates. However, I did identify two recipients who were more-than-worthy of this honor. And if they received a badge for winning, I have no doubt they would wear it proudly.
Our first recipient remains nameless, but hails from Lakeland, Florida. He is a 57-year-old man who was seriously injured Sunday before being transported by helicopter to Tampa General Hospital. What caused his injuries, you might ask? Check this out.
John Doe (as I will refer to him) is a smoker who must have decided that we as a group don’t get enough bad publicity, so he chose to kick it up a notch. Authorities responded to a call from the independent living facility Lakeland Presbyterian Apartments around 1:30 p.m. and found John with life-threatening burns to his face and hands. Apparently, he decided to “light up,” but must have forgotten that he was using medical-grade oxygen at the time.
Oxygen tank + lit cigarette = disaster.
This may seem like a common-sense equation, but obviously some people can’t do the math. And for being one of those people, John Doe wins the Jackass of the Day Award. Congratulations, John!
Splitting the award with John is someone I normally wouldn’t mention since they are very young, but I call them like I see them. She is the daughter of Patrick Snay, former head of the Gulliver Preparatory School in Miami, Florida. And what she did to deserve a share of the Jackass of the Day Award ended up costing her father a cool $80,000.
I certainly think she qualifies as a result, but you be the judge.
In 2011, Snay filed an age discrimination complaint against Gulliver Prep because his contract wasn’t renewed. I don’t have all the details, of course, but by November 2011 the school had agreed to pay Snay $10,000 in back pay as part of an $80,000 settlement. The only stipulation was that Snay, his wife and their attorneys keep the deal confidential, and they signed an agreement to this effect.
Unfortunately, Snay’s daughter heard about the deal and immediately did what so many have done thanks to social networking: she blasted a comment through cyberspace that eventually came back to bite her—and her parents—in the ass. Using her Facebook account, she posted the following status: “Mama and Papa Snay won the case against Gulliver. Gulliver is now officially paying for my vacation to Europe this summer. SUCK IT!”
She must have forgotten that some of her 1,200 friends still attended Gulliver, so it didn’t take long for school officials to catch wind of it. They immediately sent a letter to Snay’s attorneys indicating he would not receive his settlement since he clearly broke the confidentiality agreement he signed. Initially, Snay filed a motion to have the settlement upheld—and won in the Circuit Court—but Gulliver appealed. And last week, the Third District Court of Appeal for the State of Florida agreed with the school and overturned the earlier ruling in Snay’s favor.
In other words, he will not be receiving an $80,000 settlement… and all because his daughter decided to boast about it on Facebook. Congratulations, sister! You’re our second Jackass of the Day!
Now start saving up for college since you blew a pretty good nest egg with that Facebook status!
It was February 2nd when the body of actor Philip Seymour Hoffman, 46, was discovered in the bathroom of his New York City apartment, a syringe still stuck in his left arm. His tragic death was ruled an accident, but Friday the New York medical examiner’s office released their official cause of death: acute mixed drug intoxication.
Although this news may come as no surprise given the circumstances of Phil’s death—like the syringe—the combination of drugs he used during his final night on Earth just might: cocaine, heroin, amphetamines and benzodiazepines. And this after being clean for 23 years, falling off the wagon, completing a stint in rehab and then staying clean for almost another year now. What a shame.
When I first heard this “laundry list” of drugs—and please don’t take this the wrong way—I thought Phil had to be a complete idiot to let this happen. Here I was believing him to be an intelligent and stable guy—albeit with some bad habits and addictions, which we all suffer from in our own way—only to discover he was a brainless junkie with no self-control and no instincts toward self-preservation.
The truth, however, is that Phil was a sick man who took so many drugs—some legal and some not—that he built up a tolerance to them. The next time he used them, it took more to get him high, and more the time after that. In the medical field, this is referred to as stacking… and eventually, it will catch up with you.
Of course, I’m still struggling to understand why Phil chose this particular combination of substances. I get the heroin addiction and understand its effects to be mellow sedation, for lack of a better term. The benzodiazepines are nothing more than muscle relaxers used to treat anxiety, so they fall right in line with Lady H. And yes, I can see how this combination alone would be enough to do Phil in—and while he was shooting up “in the can,” no less.
What confused me weren’t the depressants found in Phil’s system; it was the stimulants. The medical examiner found both amphetamines and cocaine in the mix, which I’m having trouble explaining. It’s possible he used these to stay awake and enjoy his heroin buzz longer—staving off the sleep that likely comes quickly after combining heroin with Xanax. Aside from that, I have no idea.
All I know is that the world lost an incredible talent and another good person to drug addiction. I feel like Phil could have prevented this—since any intelligent person should know a combination of this many drugs could be deadly—but individuals deal with their addictions in very unique and personal ways. It is never “one size fits all,” but its effects are always the same: pain, suffering and death.
From one combination to another, I guess…
After facing a one-day WordPress suspension and claiming I may stop blogging daily as a result—in yesterday’s post entitled Suspension Rescinded—it now looks as if one more day will be added to my streak of twenty consecutive months. This happened because I started tooling around my blog statistics and for once focused on something I normally ignore: the search terms that lead readers to my site.
And let me tell you, some of them are pretty hilarious.
Since spreading joy and laughter is one of my blogging goals—as well as a good way of justifying my sarcastic, jackass-like tendencies—I thought it might be nice to share some of these terms with my readers… especially since you’re the ones actually entering these words and phrases into search engines.
Of course, I hope none of you take offense since I have no way of tracking who conducted these searches. If anything, it’s likely me who should be concerned since it’s my blog content that led people here.
Is it possible that I’m more demented than I originally thought?
Personally, I would answer in the affirmative, but take a look at what follows and see if you agree. I’m sure it will only reinforce what I already know… as if there were ever any doubt.
The Fame Game
As you might imagine, celebrities and other newsworthy individuals top the list—Kim Kardashian holds the top spot among all search terms, but Jodi Arias is a close second. Other famous names include Selena Gomez—who I find terribly attractive even though I’m probably older than her parents—Casey Anthony and Amanda Knox, who dropped off for a time but jumped back into the fray after being convicted of murdering Meredith Kercher by an Italian court recently.
Great Britain’s royal family also appeared numerous times, but the most prevalent search terms related to them were royal nudity and Kate Middleton topless. I guess we can see where people’s priorities lie, huh?
Also included among the search terms for Gnostic Bent were questions posed by some very inquisitive readers. Unfortunately, most of the answers they seek cannot be found on my blog—aside from can sperm help a sore throat?, which was answered in a previous post (and yes it can, even though I plan to stick with lozenges)—so I’ll do my best to address the others now:
- Do men sympathize with girls not being able to pee standing up? I can’t speak for all men, of course, but I certainly sympathize. It’s not the mobility issue that concerns me, though (i.e. the need to find adequate facilities rather than just whipping out your wiener and spraying anywhere you see fit). It’s the fact that most toilet seats are disgusting and sitting on them frequently opens the door for rampant butt rash… not to mention all sorts of other germs and infections. Sorry about that, ladies, but at least women are less likely to coat the entire seat in urine, which is how most guys seem to roll.
- What are the disadvantages of being a boy in Canada? Since I am unaware of any such disadvantages, I feel this question is better suited for a Canadian blogger. I would make a referral if I knew of any. My bad.
- Can technology make a woman feel the pain of being hit in the balls? I certainly hope not since this is a pain I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. Plus, creating a machine like this would undoubtedly lead to a childbirth machine for men… and I have absolutely no interest in that!
- What are the disadvantages of sucking a man’s testicles? Fortunately, I have never experienced this—and have no plans to—but the most obvious disadvantage to me would be the need to floss pubic hair out of your teeth later. A shaved scrotum would obviously prevent this—provided there are men brave enough to run razor blades across it!
Among the search terms I investigated were a handful that either made little or no sense to me, struck me as odd or scared the crap out of me. Here’s a quick rundown, which I hope you can figure out since I had very little luck in doing so: sparkly devil, pissed off, rectal exam, happiness bald—I am glad to know there are happy bald people in the world—kids handcuffed, poo cake/poo poo—for any scat fans in the bunch—urge to lick things, acid cow camel and snake eating human.
This last phrase was a little confusing since I couldn’t figure out who was eating who!
Good Clean Fun
Sadly, I found only two search terms that classify as wholesome or even normal: freedom and childbirth. Most focused on my next major category, which should come as no surprise.
Let’s Talk About Sex, Baby
Yes, the overwhelming subject of most Gnostic Bent searches is everyone’s favorite: SEX. And I’m not just talking about typical search terms, either, even though they were clearly represented (sex, sex videos, upskirt and couples making love naked all made the list). Of course, I am a little confused how people could make love without being naked—at least partially—but to each, his own.
In general, sex-related search terms fell into a number of different categories. Here’s how I have them grouped up—and again, some of these terms made me laugh so hard that I almost crapped my pants:
- Where’s the Beef? Man parts were well represented by terms like penis size does matter, lick dick and how to suck a penis. Sorry that I could offer no advice on these last two, but they seem rather self-explanatory. And most women I know learned through trial-and-error. It’s probably best to ask one of them for assistance.
- From Behind. As a self-professed “ass man”—as well as a blogger known for posting images of women’s back sides on a regular basis—I wasn’t surprised by how many terms focused on this anatomical feature. However, the specificity of some of these terms caught me a little off guard: butt crack, booty line up, ghetto booty, bent ass, curvy ass—those two were kind of weird—her ass, her shitter—one of my friends substitutes the word dumper, which to me seems rather gross—and the most mind-boggling of all, ass found and found in her ass. It matters little, though, since I have never lost an ass and still consider them all to be “exit only.”
- Topside. Coming in right behind… women’s behinds… were boobs in all their glory, even though the most popular search terms were limited primarily to the following : huge breasts, huge implants, huge bust and sexy nipples. I apologize to melon farmers and jug makers everywhere since their favorite words never appeared in my stats.
- Down Under. Vaginas made the cut, but most of the related terms focused on camel toes—the public appearance of these private parts through tight clothing. Of course, some searched for early camel toes (those appearing throughout history, I suppose), camel’s toe (which may actually be the real thing–a dromedary’s digit) and my personal favorite, camo toe (those difficult to find because they blend into their surroundings). One person even added some Jerry McGuire-like flair and entered show me the toe into their search. I can only assume they meant camel toe since their search brought them here.
- Water Sports. Anyone familiar with this phrase—in its sexual context, that is—knows it refers to urination as a means of arousal. Like it or not, but some people actually enjoy getting peed on. Fortunately, the water sports search terms on my blog fell under the category of skinny dipping: nude in pool and swimming in the buff. I did find the term penie wee wee, but that was the only true water sports reference… I think.
- Getting Freaky. Whenever sex is involved—especially on the Internet—you can count on some freaky people searching for even freakier things. And I found no shortage of them among my search terms. Here’s a small sampling: barnyard porn, Siamese sex (which I can’t imagine is much different from sex in any other country), volleyball vagina (those covered in sand or willing to “spike” something, I guess), young jailbait (as opposed to the older variety), dog sex/women dog sex/sex with dogs (all disturbing in their own right) and another mind-boggler, sausage room gay. I can understand the connection, of course. I just didn’t know there was a special room for it.
Honestly, though, I could care less what search terms bring readers to Gnostic Bent—I’m just glad they’re here—but they sure keep things interesting, don’t you think?
Anyone who has visited Gnostic Bent in the last few days likely knows my blog was temporarily suspended for violating WordPress’ terms of service. Fortunately—and quite obviously, since you’re here now—this suspension has been rescinded and for now, it looks as if GB is back in full force. Please allow me to explain.
Two days ago, I decided to get a jump on my daily blogging and wrote an article entitled Time to Quit, which prior to this post was the lead article on my site. I never actually published the article—allowing it to sit in my draft folder for publication yesterday—but apparently I included a link that WP’s automated system flagged as troublesome. The good news is that the fine people from WP alerted me to this error, allowed me to correct it and published the post for me. Removing the link was all it took to bring Gnostic Bent back to life.
They even published my article to keep my streak of posting at least one article a day going, even though I’m now thinking about cutting myself some slack and downgrading my efforts a bit. Those of you who blog surely understand how difficult daily posting can be. And I’m sure any non-bloggers understand this, too. Hopefully, people will continue reading despite having articles arrive every few days because honestly, I could use the break to focus on some other writing projects (like screenplays and such).
I promise not to neglect my readers, though, so please come back to visit again soon. And with any luck, having additional time to work on articles will make them more interesting. I can’t make any promises, though!
I remember my first time smoking a cigarette like it was yesterday.
It happened when I was in high school, somewhere around 15 years of age. My friends and I were up to our usual antics—wandering through suburbia on our way to “roll a house” with toilet paper we bought at Safeway. I can’t remember who our target was since it happened so long ago—I’m now 42, so you do the math—but I will never forget the question my friend John asked when he saw me eyeballing his pack of Merit cigarettes.
“You want one?”
He held out the pack with one butt conveniently poking out from the others and, like a moron, I took it and accepted a light, as well. And the rest, as they say, is history.
A smart man would have refused and gone on his merry way. As I said, though, I was only 15, so my brain obviously wasn’t developed enough with regard to decision-making… or should I say good decision-making. And I have been smoking ever since—sometimes a pack a day and sometimes more—for nearly three decades.
I did quit for six months at two different times, but always returned to my tar-ridden friends, usually out of boredom. Of course, I may have been destined for smoking from a young age, but please know I only blame myself for the poor choices I’ve made.
When I was a young boy, my mother was a smoker. She wasn’t a heavy tobacco user, by any means, but I have clear memories of her lighting up in our old station wagon, especially after leaving the pool in the summertime. My brother and sister would immediately complain about the smell, but I always enjoyed it. And I’m sure this experience planted the seed for what would later become my most destructive habit.
Fortunately, my mother managed to quit smoking “cold turkey” and quickly joined the ranks of non-smokers who preach and nag others to follow suit. She would always say, “You won’t quit until you want to quit.” And for a long time, I agreed. Then I realized something my mother obviously overlooked. What if you don’t necessarily want to quit, but know that you need to?
This is the question I now face as I consider a third attempt at quitting. The first time I tried to kick the habit, I employed all the tools available to me at the time, from nicotine patches and gum to self-help tapes and books. Nothing worked and the first time I smelled a cigarette again, I got right back into it. My second attempt was slightly more successful and lasted a bit longer—this time using Chantix, the new smoking cessation kid on the block at that time—but since it gave me migraine headaches and may have eventually killed me (much faster than cigarettes, I might add), I failed again and returned to the nicotine treats.
And I have been smoking ever since, this time accepting the fact I may never successfully quit and giving myself over to the hacking, phlegm-producing loveliness that all chronic smokers experience. Represent, addicted brothers and sisters!
Seriously, though, the time for a third attempt at non-smoking is steadily approaching, largely due to two factors: my son and recent advances in smoking cessation technology.
As the father of a 6-year-old boy—one who has repeatedly asked me to quit smoking because “it’s bad for me” and “I could die from it”—I can longer think of consequences like emphysema and lung cancer as being relevant to me alone. Every drag I take from a cigarette moves me one step closer to death—and one step further from life with my son. And believe me, I want to be around for as much of his life as possible, preferring to grow old rather than adhering to my usual justification for smoking: “We all have to die of something.”
This is true, of course, but it doesn’t mean I should speed up the process, either. Choosing to smoke is like playing Russian roulette over and over again. You never know when you’ve smoked the cigarette that will ultimately kill you, so why take chances? After all, smoking is nothing more than gradual suicide. And to paraphrase Brad Pitt’s character from one of my favorite films—Ocean’s Eleven—I’m only suicidal in the morning. Most other times I consider myself to be reasonably well-adjusted, which I’m sure some who know me well would dispute.
Here’s hoping they keep their mouths shut, though. And you know who you are.
As if staying alive for my son wasn’t enough, I’m also considering another attempt at quitting because of the advances made in the field of smoking cessation recently—most notably the surge of electronic cigarettes on the market. Nicotine gum and patches are no longer the cutting edge, which is fine by me since I often found myself smoking while using these ineffective tools. Electronic cigarettes, on the other hand, not only target withdrawal symptoms by offering several different levels of nicotine inserts; they also help with the ritual of smoking—the experience of having something in your hand and mouth that seems like a cigarette, but does far less damage. And at this point in my smoking career, the ritual is about the only reason I smoke anymore.
By now, I’m sure my body has developed some kind of immunity to nicotine, since the same thing seems to have happened with caffeine. I can drink coffee all day long and still get to sleep. It doesn’t even energize me all that much anymore. Sad, I know, but this is the unfortunate consequence of long-term addiction to any substance… not that this is anything new, of course.
So here’s my plan: weed out traditional cigarettes, bring in electronic smokes and eventually kick them both completely. It won’t be easy and the chances of me becoming even more of an ass will increase exponentially with each passing day, but I have to try. My son is worth it and if quitting means spending more time with him, then I don’t really have a choice. This will happen soon, but first I have one more important task to complete: convincing my family members to spring for a Blu starter pack, preferably in time for my birthday in a few months.
No one said quitting would be cheap!
Yesterday morning, the world lost a truly amazing talent, a comic genius and an all-around great person—actor, writer and director Harold Ramis—who passed away from complications resulting from autoimmune inflammatory vasculitis, a condition he battled for years. He was 69 years old.
Many remember Ramis as the quirky and nerdy Dr. Egon Spengler from two of his best known films, Ghostbusters and Ghostbusters II. Others remember him as the foil to Bill Murray in Stripes, another Ramis classic. But the man who appeared on-screen was only a small part of who Ramis really was— it was his off-screen success that truly changed the face of comedy.
Ramis’ journey to comic greatness began in the late 1960s and early 1970s. After working a variety of jobs—as a substitute school teacher, freelance writer for the Chicago Daily News and joke editor for Playboy magazine—he began studying and performing with Chicago’s Second City improvisational comedy troupe. Ramis left the troupe briefly and was replaced by another famous comedy performer—the great John Belushi—but returned in 1972 with friend and collaborator Bill Murray.
Together with Belushi, Murray and others—among them Christopher Guest and Gilda Radner—Ramis starred in The National Lampoon Show and eventually became a performer and head writer for SCTV, a direct competitor of another well-known comedy show, Saturday Night Live. And though acting would always have a place in his life, it was writing and directing that truly showcased Ramis’ talents.
Among the films Ramis is best known for—aside from those already mentioned—are some of my favorite comedies of all time: National Lampoon’s Animal House, Groundhog Day, Meatballs, Back to School, Caddyshack, National Lampoon’s Vacation and Club Paradise, to name a few. And with a resume like that, how could he not be great?
Ramis’ long-time friend and colleague—Dan Aykroyd—reacted to the news of his death on Facebook: “Deeply saddened to hear of the passing of my brilliant, gifted, funny friend, co-writer/performer and teacher Harold Ramis. May he now get the answers he was always seeking.” Steve Carell worked with Ramis on The Office and described him as “funny, gracious [and] kind-hearted,” all words that only scratch the surface of this great man and the joy he brought to so many.
Yes, Monday was a sad day for entertainment, but I feel an even deeper sense of loss since I grew up with Harold Ramis and his films. And I’m sure there are plenty of others who feel the same. It’s always sad to lose a great talent—especially one who brought laughter into the lives of so many—but it’s worse to lose a great human being… and that’s precisely what Harold Ramis was.
Rest in peace, my friend. I miss you already.
Believe it or not, but it isn’t easy being a guy.
For a comic take on the challenges my testosterone-fueled brothers and I face, check out what quickly became my most popular blog post to date, 10 Things That Suck About Being a Guy. Of course, what I’m writing about today is more serious in nature—a topic that can only be described as penile responsibility.
You see, all men—by virtue of being born male—come equipped with a special tool: the penis. Its primary uses involve procreation and urination—as well as recreation, I suppose—but it’s obvious that some of my brethren have no clue how to use theirs correctly.
In other words, they are ill-equipped in terms of using their tools correctly… and they embarrass our entire gender when their misguided antics get splashed across the headlines.
Take the following examples of poor penis management, for instance.
Tim Margis was the director of public safety for Concordia University in River Forest, Illinois until February 12th, when he admitted to some very disturbing behavior and was terminated. According to the police report, a female co-worker saw Margis walking out of her office one day while buttoning his pants and tightening his belt. She investigated and discovered he had left a gift inside one of her shoes… a very sticky and disgusting gift only men can create, if you know what I mean. And I know you do.
Needless to say, Concordia University fired Margis a short time later and authorities charged him with disorderly conduct and public indecency. And though he may never work in security again, at least this opens the door for Margis’ other passion: shoe shining!
You Could Go Blind… or Worse
Valentine’s Day was a lonely time for Jerome Carpenter, a teenager in Portland, Oregon who suffered from depression during this last romantic holiday. That afternoon, his mother called him down for lunch, but got concerned when an hour passed and he didn’t show. And Jerome was the kind of guy who loved to eat, so his mother suspected something was wrong and went to his room to investigate.
She found Jerome dead and in a very compromising position. Apparently, he had masturbated 56 consecutive times and subsequently died of a heart attack. Here’s how Officer Dean Marrow described the scene later:
“The young man was on his bed… his penis was detached from his body… it must have been so intense it just came off his body… we found his penis gripped in his left hand so tightly we couldn’t get it out… it was tragic.”
Yes it was. And it just goes to show that where masturbation is concerned, blindness and dehydration aren’t the only risks men run for excessive self-love.
Every Dog Has Its Day
The saying “every dog has its day” may be more than 450 years old—originating in William Shakespeare’s Hamlet in the early 1600s—but sometimes these days are not as good as one might expect. Such was the case for a dog in Louth, Lincolnshire recently—and the day he had is one that he and his owner will likely struggle to forget for a long, long time.
Police in Louth arrested 19-year-old Wayne Bryson after his girlfriend searched his cell phone and discovered a clip of him having sex with her bull terrier. Bryson admitted to the crime—claiming this was his first time humping man’s best friend (in the most bizarre role reversal ever)—and pleaded guilty to performing an act of sexual penetration with a dog. If convicted, he could spend as much as two years in jail. For now, however, Bryson was released on bail with one stipulation: he is not allowed to be alone with animals.
As if this even needed saying… freak…
Bovines are So Fine
Our final example of penile misuse comes from a farm in Herkimer County, New York. And I warn you that in terms of perversion, this one truly takes the cake.
A cattle farmer noticed that his cows seemed anxious and weren’t producing as much milk as they normally did, so he set up a hidden surveillance camera to see if he could get to the bottom of the mystery. Unfortunately, he soon learned that “getting to the bottom” of his cows was someone else’s concern, too.
As he was reviewing the surveillance video, the farmer noticed two men—Michael Jones and Reid Fontaine—who apparently loved bovines more than he did… and in a much more literal sense. While Jones filmed his accomplice, Fontaine attempted to have sex with several cows. Whether or not he was successful is another story, but his sexual exploits were enough to warrant a call to police, who soon arrested the men and charged them with misdemeanor sexual misconduct.
It’s obvious that both Jones and Fontaine will be punished for their actions, but having their pictures and disgusting crime plastered across every news site from here to Katmandu may be all the punishment they need. I certainly feel sorry for any family members who now have to deal with the bullshit this incident provided… or should I say cow shit?
Yes, being a guy can be tough, but the one overriding principle we should all learn from these stories is this: YOU control your penis. When it starts controlling you, though, then perhaps the best place to visit is a doctor’s office… rather than a local farm, I mean.