A NEW SITE?

Good morning
Sshblack here. I tried to keep some updates going in the comments section but thought it would be much more effective to have a whole article dedicated to it.
After some sleepless nights I decided to look in to creating another site, one which is “un-websense-able.” Luckily I have found some magic code to stop websense knowing we ever exist. This means no matter the content, you should still be able to see the site from your place of employment, or wherever you’re being restricted.
The real question here is, do we want to continue?
Firsty, this is going to cost me time and money. Initially not an issue, but if this is something people are really not bothered about, then I’d like to know. Secondly, it has been a fantastic place for me to cut my teeth, but I did get a feeling from some people that maybe it was time, like Ol’ Yeller, to put the old girl out her misery.
I am confident that with a new site that I could certainly dedicate more time to writing articles, and have a few ideas of how to attract a little more web attention. I admit you have had this promised before, but I’m willing to try.
So what do you think? Should we soldier on, or put the site out to pasture?
Discuss.
Making An Exit
I ain’t gonna lie, my game is rusty. All the cycling and masturbation I suppose. That and the depthless chasm of cynicism that is my soul…

Nah, I killed the bitch too. *scratches out number*
This past weekend, however, a concerted effort was put forth to get back in the mix. On some subconscious level I knew dumb cunts and douchetastic shitburgers awaited me…and the reunion would prove bittersweet. Regardless, I pressed on.
This much I know; game is all about confidence and to a larger degree not giving a shit. At all. The trick is having the social intuition of when and how to employ both so as to clearly articulate on a higher plane that you’re out for the sole purpose of smashing bush, as doing so unburdens you from a great deal of unnecessary admin. Like talking to someone fat/ugly/crippled/in-short-supply-of-tit/black. Or having to punch a dumb motherfucker in the face. I kid, I kid.
First stop, my favorite local watering hole… After stretching the old legs by engaging several semi-attractive dishrags, I found the familiar rhythm of the bar scene both comforting and sad. Like some steely-eyed boonierat with the thousand yard stare, my time away from this place is a paradox; when I’m here, I want to be there; when I’m there, all I can think of was getting back into the shit…

I'm back. Christ.
There was a millisecond of self-reflection acknowledging this point before indignantly, and quite uncontrollably, I asked aloud, “So where are all the women looking for cock?”
“What did you say?!” Some trollop had heard me.
Without blanching, I turned and with a piercing gaze repeated, “I said, ‘So where are all the women looking for COCK?’”
She ate it up.
Though we ended up sparring for a bit, me convincing this slut I was some semi-famous comedic writer (lolz) for a late night show and also working in my predilection for only spanking girls who “earn it”, I shut it down. There was probably a blowjob and/or rat tug in the mix, but to be honest, she was a tad outside the Acceptable Spectrum Pounditude. Like most of my interactions, I’d over-estimated her attractiveness. I guess I suffer a bit of the new car lot syndrome. But a Malibu is a Malibu…and I ain’t driving one.
Besides, in addition to the alcohol on her breath, I smelled a fair amount of desperation. Not to mention that her features hinted that she, or some blood relative, might be a member of The Tribe. Fuck. That. Shit. Christmas, motherfuckers!!!

Not a chance, bitch.
The rest of the night played out with the usual interactions; thumb-wrestling, dudes with even less game than mine trying to run interference, etc… the usual bit. It wasn’t long before my tolerance for the inane had been breached. With several new digits in hand, it was time to extract my thirteen inches of cock from the sausage party. Let’s face it, the scramble for a seat at musical chairs past 1am is a sad dance; a practice what only lends itself to grabbing one which is short-legged, uncomfortable and a bit on the “bulky” side. No thanks.

Where my hatred goes to refuel.
Unfortunately, I had a buddy in tow who was dead set on making one final run.
So we approached this lingering three-top who’d appeared to in dire need of salvation from their mediocre lives. Considering it as my altruistic act for the year, I extracted the less attractive one from the herd and plowed through my material like some coked out hooker at the tail end of a thirty-seven cock night. I even unceremoniously closed with, “Welp…that’s it. That’s all I’ve got..” leaving her perplexed and I’m sure surmising as to whether I a.) was truly exhausted and just ready to leave, or b.) didn’t think she was hot enough to continue the dance.

b.)
Tragically, as we re-integrated into the pack it was evident my pal was still in the middle innings of a perfect game. He’d whipped these chicks (who all happened to be transplants from, wait for it…Cleveland) into a panty-soaking frenzy while spinning his yarn.
Then it happened.
“So, if there’s one thing I can’t miss if I go to Cleveland, what would it be?” he asked, again excitedly feigning interest in their sad, mid-western lives.
Cab fare securely in hand, a wry grin spread across my face as I not so graciously answered for them…
“The smell.”

Nighty-night.
The List: When Did Just Fucking Get Old?
Good morning everyone. A couple of months ago I was having lunch with a friend in the bar portion of a Dallas steakhouse, as a career barmaid explained the day’s specials, a report was breaking on TV about the death of actor David Carradine (star of Death Race 2000 to me, star of Kill Bill to idiots). What a death this was-apparently Grasshopper had hung himself with a rope around his neck and a shoelace (a shoelace? Goddamn) around his balls. At that point my friend turns to me and said “when did just fucking get old?”
That’s a great question, and in this list article I will attempt to assign a ratings system to the level of sexual chaos out there and hopefully help people that may have gone too far off the reservation.
Auto Erotic/Self Bondage: I’ll start here because this is how Carradine died. Definitely abstract, so let me get this straight-you need to get off but instead of simply flicking the bean or tugging the rat you feel like it might be hot to stop breathing at some point during this process. Without anyone there to help you if something goes wrong. That’s more ridiculous than hiring an Irish guy named David to play a nip called Kwai Chang Caine. Call me old school, but I’m not risking death for an orgasm. I cannot recall ever blasting on my stomach or a chick’s tummy/face/tits that made me think ‘That was awesome, hell I wouldn’t mind being dead right now”. And I’ve had some good pussy, trust me.
This is not to mention how difficult it must be to simply get into these positions while alone. Tying my hands/neck up? Putting the key close to me but in ice so I have to wait for it to melt? A combination lock? Where is the part where I rub my dick? Look, here’s some sound advice if you need to get off and are alone: undock laptop, search pornhub.com, click a scene where a white man fucks a blonde woman (or 2), watch the scene, start touching yourself, blast. Hot and easy! They’re really fucking! At no point did you almost die or have to wait for hours! You’re welcome.

Carradine's last role: A Jerk Too Far
I can’t imagine how this even began as a fetish. Remember when Dusty Rhodes would put Ric Flair in a sleeperhold? Now that would be seen as some kind of elaborate foreplay or something that maybe Rhodes’ character was into. Eek.
Scale of 1-10 nooses around your parent’s necks, I’ll go with a rating of 8.5 for this one. If you can’t just crank one out without risking death then you have veered far from the reservation.
Domination and Submission: Another item that is pretty goddamn over the top. Hey, I like to occasionally slap a dish on the ass or in the face (note: be very sure you have a fairly wild chick for the face, may end poorly), but that’s not at all what these folks are into. These folks go to “dungeons” and use safe words to hedge on the limits of degradation involved. If anyone out there reading actually does this shit, do me a personal favor and make your next safe word “Captain Caveman!” bonus points if you try to sound like the original cartoon hero while screaming.

And the "Safe Word" is...
Tons of subcultures in this group, none of which I understand at all. You’d rather pay a bitch to kick you in the balls than suck your dick? You’re weird. Role playing where a guy dresses up as a woman and brings a dominatrix cookies or other female chores? Good gravy. “Hey, you know what will be hot Jennifer? How about you make me iron your shirt!” How about you two fuck on the kitchen floor? That’s hot, you goddamn lunatic. How on earth are men out there more into a chick’s feet/shoes/boots more than they are the holy trinity of tits/pussy/ass? Come on! USA! USA! USA!
Erotic humiliation and slave play sure does sound enticing, especially while in a motherfucking dungeon. Hey bitch, I get treated like a slave and humiliated at work for about 60 hours a week, can we skip that part and just fuck. Adults walking around wearing a goddamn dog collar, or getting whipped, or some kind of shackles, how much can you hate yourself? At some point that guy changed from jeans/t-shirt and his Whole Foods Market apron into latex/lipstick/chains, hilarious. Go get on match.com or something, I bet you will be shocked how easy it is to find some pussy around your league. Those chicks are just looking for a few laughs, a few drinks, and then it’s the standard “you wanna get out of here?” playbook before going home and having some good old fashioned hard dick/wet pussy sex without utensils. Give it a try.

Great...but can she iron?
If you are even capable of being a submissive or a dominant in these type of extreme roles, you may have been molested. Even if true, no excuses, I have to give BDSM 10 heels grinding on testicles. I’m legitimately worried about you at this point.
Extreme Genres of Pornography: Like most people, I like porn. Porn is arguably the only recession proof business. It can be a great late night high/drunk thing to do with your girl du jour, or a fun way to spend 10 minutes of a slow Saturday afternoon. Either way, watching attractive people fuck is alright.
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This item is more concerned with some of the more obtuse angles in porn. I swear, you can’t even make a selection via a porn dvd store, on demand from TV, or pornhub.com (pornhub you fucking owe me for these endorsements) without seeing some really strange shit. Goddamn men of America, I’m trying to fire one out before this date and I finally found a smoking scene, I don’t need a fucking ad of “Old man takes her virginity!” or some shit. That’s like putting a used band aid next to my steak.
Who’s into that? Who prefers “girl with braces blows jig” over Teagan Presley and Lee Stone squaring off? I didn’t like a chick with braces while I was in goddamn middle school, how the hell is hot to think of now? That said, I can see braces before I can see cranking it to a cartoon. A cartoon? An asian chick in a miniskirt? SHE IS A DRAWING! That’s pretty goddamn eclectic, man.
On a fairly recent visit to the store (was in the neighborhood) I did see where that one spare dish on Gossip Girl has a sex tape out where she finishes the guy off with a foot job. I like the effort, but a foot job? Cutie, I know it sucks being in that stunning blonde’s shadow all the time, but this may not have been the best way to steal the spotlight. Incidentally, next time use your mouth or hand, I bet he likes it more. Another awful genre-“big naturals”. Oh, awesome. Ever wonder what those fat chicks at your office with huge cans look like naked and getting railed? Here you go. Yuck.
A large Marge getting double-teamed? I'll pass.
I’m a tolerant guy, and I like porn, so I will only give this 5.5 pigtails flopping on a cock. These people aren’t too far gone yet.
Swingers: I love non-monogamous sexual activity, don’t get me wrong. I also feel that Glen’s pitch in Raising Arizona should not have been met with such anger and resistance by H.I. Nevertheless, swinging is a pretty goddamn strange thing to jump into and stay with for a long period of time (hi Phil and Amy Mickelson).
First off, I’m not talking about some bullshit “same room” type of gay shit that might play at UNC-Charlotte. The type of swinging in this article centers on both a committed couple/married (anyone can swing if you’re not really attached, hell that’s dating), and involving A to Z on the menu of sex while in front of your partner. I can’t imagine anything with an outcome other than “Hey, I’m going to go bang your hot wife in the other room, you and my wife sit here and watch TV while waiting”, I’m just not going to be able to delete the mental file of “those lips blew our neighbor”. Again, call me old school.

I’ve been involved in several double dates where we all ended up bombed at someone’s house and the girls played tit bully or whatever, that’s just good American fun. Go to any bar and listen to girls talk about each other before they’re even drunk if you’re skeptical. However, and keep in mind I’ve fucked some real sluts, I’ve never had a girl pitch “how about I fuck him and you fuck her?’ at the post tit bully and pre pass out stage.
I can understand how insane monogamy is, no question. What’s wrong with a simple “how about we both fuck other people” pitch instead of joining some crazy group of people that are mostly fat and ugly? You’re way better off watching a wild group sex scene with your dish on the couch involving several Vivid Video regulars than taking this chance.

D-Level Tit Bully.
Watch the key party scene in The Ice Storm: fun, wild, booze, drugs, well to do people, chaos. Fun right? Nope. Not only are you rolling the dice on who your wife ends up banging (it will probably be someone you hate), but you are also throwing your dick on the crap table. “Excellent, I got Marcy the size 18.” Pay the dc, Vertigo’s cock.
Swingers out there, I’m rooting for you, and if by some chance you are all hot feel free to film the session and mail to Adam Hats. Until then, I’m giving this 3 fingers of unknown origin. You’re not weird, you’re just bored.
Anal Sex: I know, I know, sometimes the kink factor is off the charts with ass play. Sure they’re fun to spank and look at in jeans, I know. This doesn’t concern those who like that harmless shit, I’m talking about people who clearly prefer banging a trollop in the ass over the pussy or like having weird shit put in their ass.
Toque (RIP)’s anal bead story is well documented and hysterical, but it’s a great intro to this item. What the hell was ever going to be hot about this even before Toque yanked on those beads? I don’t get it. Sure, I’ll put my finger in your mouth after its been in your pussy-I’m not Mother Teresa-but I’m not putting it in your ass. Matter of fact, I’m not putting my dick/finger/tongue in your ass, gorgeous…and please don’t put any of yours (or any other item for that matter) in mine. Thanks.
I hear pitches about this type of stuff all the time “it’s so intimate” etc. Fuck you. Intimate is a corner table at Nick and Sam’s while smiling at me over candlelight, not those same lips tasting my appetizer 3 hours later.
I’m dying to hear a rebuttal that’s worth a shit (pun) about how you would rather put your dick in an ass than a pussy. Are you crazy? Nothing feels better than pussy, nothing. You’re trying too hard. Just bang her in the front slit and no excrement/sanitary issues will be involved.

I simply don't get it.
If she puts her finger in your ass unannounced, its good news/bad news. Good news: she’s wild as hell and you’re not hearing the word no all night. Bad news: she might have a strap-on in the nightstand and try to use it unannounced as well. Just segue out of the finger and try to finish before a quick bullshit “I’ve got to get up early” exit.
I know this issue is pretty divisive, so I will only give this 2.5 colon lollipops on the scale. Final note, never go ass to mouth regardless of how wild you are.
That’s 5 strong items to judge where you are in the sexual phases. I think these encapsulate or at least touch on some of the more strange items* out there. If you feel I missed something critical, definitely pitch me on the comment board.
*I’m not fucking including strippers/prostitutes/vibrators because all of those are relatively tame. What situation can’t be made instantly a bit better by adding strippers? Nothing, so you’re not unique/strange at all. Prostitutes? Some people are really ugly/gross and need to get off via an actual pussy/dick. I don’t have a problem with that. Vibrators? Hey, feel free to warm the dish up for me, I always hated that part anyway.
The Dictionary Strikes Back
That’s right, I’m back with another selection of unusual terms from the nation that brought you Hugh Laurie, Pompus behaviour, and scurvy.
Enjoy
Chavs.
“Fuck off you Chav cunt.”
A Chav is an amoeba of English society. Usually young, dirty and horrifically poor, Chavs are ill-dressed, cocky wankers, determined to represent nothing but their own ghastliness. Chavs hang around local parks and shops dressed to the hilt in fake Burberry, in a vein attempt to deceive people that they actually have some class/cash. This cheap look, coupled with enough fake gold to drown a small pony, is about as aesthetically pleasing as Lisa Lampanelli’s labia . Think of the chav dress code like a redneck’s lawn, they’re determined to show off as much as they own, no matter how fucking tacky it looks. I think the picture says more than I ever could.

Just... Urgh.
Mucky
“Jesus Christ she’s a bit mucky ain’t she? “
If a girl is mucky, then she looks no stranger to slutty and frequent fucking. Muckiness in a girl is usually judged on her ability to appear like a whore even in everyday scenarios. But where do you find this type of girl? Well, your average “mucky” is usually found outside abortion clinics, wearing next to nothing, with a used condom stuck to her inner thigh. She’s the kind of girl you can confidently assume that if you fail with all the other girls in the club, she’ll at least come home with you for nothing more than a kebab and a smile. She’ll probably even give you cock-rot for free.

Mucky through and through
Missus
“Alright Tony, how’s the missus?”
A man’s missus can be many things. She can be his new girlfriend, his long time partner, or horror of all horrors, his wife.
“Missus” is a classic London term with it’s roots firmly planted in misogynistic soil. For real authenticity, try to use the word “Missus” when describing your loved one as if she were a second class citizen. (If you don’t already.) “Missus” goes back to the days where women knew their limits and role, so the word is under attack from the frankly laughable Girl Power/ Equal Rights hippies. Gentlemen, keep using the word, it is your duty as a man to do so.

Women, know your limits!
Geezer
“Nice bloke, he’s a right old Geezer.”
A geezer is a person who makes it his mission in life to have as many of his fat fingers in as many crooked pies as possible. He’s that friend who can get hold of anything and always has something to sell for half price. The only real mystery is where all his produce comes from, and the answer is always the same: “I’m in the Iron and Steel business, wife does the ironing and I do the the stealing.” Bent as a nine-dollar bill, he’ll scam and con his way through life risking it all for the chance of a few extra pennies. You don’t trust him particularly, and can’t even really remember his first name, but when knock-off Sony Flat-Screens are this cheap, who the fuck is complaining? Nice one Geezer.

You name it, I'll get it son.
Glasgow Kiss / Chelsea Smile
“Nah, someone fucked him with a Chelsea Smile.”
What can appear a nice sentiment usually means the opposite on the British Isles. Acts of violence and torture are not only covered by soft sounding terms, but these brutal acts are also named after their geographic place of birth. A Glasgow Kiss is a Scottish term for a headbutt, and of all the thick skulls you don’t want crashing in to yours, is that of a fucking Glaswegian. A Chelsea Smile on the other hand is much more of a planned event. The victim is held down and the sides of his mouth are slit with a torn credit card. He is then stomped on in the Crown Jewels making him scream, therefore tearing both cheeks all the way up to his ears. The resulting healing scar leaves him with an everlasting “Chelsea Smile.”

The last Kilt/Skirt joke he'll ever make
Well that’s all I have time for, have you got any favourite terms for violence?
Discuss.
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