Those of us born after the Sexual Revolution of the late 60s are the proud recipients of its largess. Before the Revolution, people repressed their true desires and engaged in a monthly bout of missionary sex with their spouses. Today, we are free to engage our sexual fantasies in exciting new ways.
Of course, despite the expanding sexual universe, not every kink or proclivity can be acted on. Actor Brent Spiner gets tons of requests for sex with strangers. Most of these people are interested in having sex with a robot similar to the character Commander Data that Spiner played on Star Trek. People want to have sex with robots, but a fully functional sex robot hasn’t been invented yet.
I have always been turned on by the prospect of having sex with a pregnant woman. I love the way a woman looks with a big, round belly and engorged breasts. I am practical though; I realize that getting a woman pregnant in order to have a final trimester of sexual bliss is not a good tradeoff. A friend suggested I find a pregnant prostitute, but the thought of a child having a whore for a mother would ruin the experience for me.
Luckily, I have learned to fantasize during sex. When my girlfriend Kate and I do it doggy style, I imagine her large, pregnant belly touches the sheets, and I come in buckets. I felt guilty about this, so one night (while drunk) I admitted to Kate that I sometimes think of her pregnant when we have sex. To my surprise, she wasn’t repulsed. She said it’s okay, because she sometimes thinks of me as a giant African elephant mounting her from behind.
I don’t know whether to be relieved or repulsed.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
Fashionable Amish Wins an Award
Gaining traffic for a blog is difficult. You tell your friends, write some stuff you hope people will find compelling, and hope for the best. Winning awards is a good way to drive traffic to the site, and adding a little trophy to the page really classes up the joint, kind of like a 1970s Topps baseball card.
Recently, I was nominated for the Platinum Award for Excellence in Humor Blogitry (PAEHB). I was up against “Hyperbole and a Half," “Sad and Useless,” “Mudflap Bubbas,” and “The Drudge Report.” The judges at the Platinum Internet Foundation determined that my site was unquestionably the best, making me 2010’s PAEHB winner. I was so delighted when I heard the news, I peed a little.
Some people have questioned the merit of this award. They point out that this is the first year the prize has been awarded. They also point out that the Platinum Internet Foundation seems to exist only to award the PAEHB. Furthermore, records show that the foundation’s president is Will Divide, and the only other people allowed to vote for the award are the Board of Directors, consisting of Will Divide’s grandmother and great aunt, with the later two declined to vote for anyone.
To the people that believe the PAEHB is bullshit, I’d like to point out that the leading candidate for the Senate from Kentucky has done the exact same thing. The main difference between what I’ve done and what Rand Paul did is that I only gave myself a fake web award. Paul certified himself to be a practicing Ophthalmologist (which is apparently legal in Kentucky).
The moral in all of this, is that if you hitch your moral compass to politicians, you can get away with nearly anything. I think I’ll hire a prostitute.
Recently, I was nominated for the Platinum Award for Excellence in Humor Blogitry (PAEHB). I was up against “Hyperbole and a Half," “Sad and Useless,” “Mudflap Bubbas,” and “The Drudge Report.” The judges at the Platinum Internet Foundation determined that my site was unquestionably the best, making me 2010’s PAEHB winner. I was so delighted when I heard the news, I peed a little.
Some people have questioned the merit of this award. They point out that this is the first year the prize has been awarded. They also point out that the Platinum Internet Foundation seems to exist only to award the PAEHB. Furthermore, records show that the foundation’s president is Will Divide, and the only other people allowed to vote for the award are the Board of Directors, consisting of Will Divide’s grandmother and great aunt, with the later two declined to vote for anyone.
To the people that believe the PAEHB is bullshit, I’d like to point out that the leading candidate for the Senate from Kentucky has done the exact same thing. The main difference between what I’ve done and what Rand Paul did is that I only gave myself a fake web award. Paul certified himself to be a practicing Ophthalmologist (which is apparently legal in Kentucky).
The moral in all of this, is that if you hitch your moral compass to politicians, you can get away with nearly anything. I think I’ll hire a prostitute.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Microblogging
Regular readers of this blog know that I impose a strict 300-word limit on blog postings. People using the internet generally have short attention spans, so a 300-word limit is short enough to keep readers focused. I also like the idea of trying to get a message across despite imposed brevity. Plus, keeping the blog short gives me time to do other things I enjoy (smoking pot, masturbating to porn, and getting angry at the idiotic things politicians do, among other things).
Modern technology encourages concision. I sometimes struggle with my 300-word straightjacket, but some bloggers do this with limits of 200 or even 100 words. Users of Twitter have it even worse; they have to somehow convey meaning using only 140 characters. I’m envious of their skill.
Having said that, I refuse to be outwitted by the Ashton Kutchers, Sarah Palins, and Chad Ochocincos of the world. If they can convey messages 140 characters at a time, I can do even better. So here is my attempt at the shortest posting possible. (Actually, it’s a sub-post, but let’s not haggle over details.)
Unsophisticated readers will see this as a simple letter, but to the more imaginative, this post has more possible conclusions than the movie Inception. Is it a reference to a good grade? The preface to something unspecific? Homage to the Fonz? A reaction to getting your foot stepped on? A parent trying to stifle an overly-talkative child? The first name of the author of Winnie the Pooh? A reference to a beginning? The possibilities are nearly limitless.
Take that Twitter!
Modern technology encourages concision. I sometimes struggle with my 300-word straightjacket, but some bloggers do this with limits of 200 or even 100 words. Users of Twitter have it even worse; they have to somehow convey meaning using only 140 characters. I’m envious of their skill.
Having said that, I refuse to be outwitted by the Ashton Kutchers, Sarah Palins, and Chad Ochocincos of the world. If they can convey messages 140 characters at a time, I can do even better. So here is my attempt at the shortest posting possible. (Actually, it’s a sub-post, but let’s not haggle over details.)
A
Unsophisticated readers will see this as a simple letter, but to the more imaginative, this post has more possible conclusions than the movie Inception. Is it a reference to a good grade? The preface to something unspecific? Homage to the Fonz? A reaction to getting your foot stepped on? A parent trying to stifle an overly-talkative child? The first name of the author of Winnie the Pooh? A reference to a beginning? The possibilities are nearly limitless.
Take that Twitter!
Thursday, August 26, 2010
A More Effective Way to Run Campaigns
Congratulation to Senator John McCain. On Tuesday night, McCain soundly defeated former infomercial pitchman J.D. Hayworth to win the Republican primary to be the US Senator from Arizona.
Pundits have framed this victory into several different themes. They say that he abandoned his self-described maverick persona, turning far right to defeat a strongly conservative candidate in a state hungry for red meat. They also say that McCain bucked the anti-incumbency wave that effectively ended the careers of colleagues from Utah, Pennsylvania, and possibly Alaska. They say that McCain is poised to become the lion of the Senate, able to work with colleagues on both sides of the isle from a position of respect.
Frankly, I don’t care about any of the pundit narratives. What interests me most is that McCain spent $21 million on the primary campaign. As a result, 281,347 people voted for McCain in Arizona. That works out to $74.64 per vote.
This seems like an ineffective way to run a campaign. Instead of spending money on commercials with haunting keyboard tones and splotchy videos of his opponent, McCain could have given voters something they want. He could just give voters $74.64.
I’m nearly broke. With $74.64, I could buy a bottle of Jack Daniels, an eighth of weed, and a half-rack of Budweiser (with the profits from the beer going straight back to McCain’s wife’s company!). Then after smoking a joint and doing a few shots of Jack chased by the Budweiser, I’d walk to my nearest polling place to vote for McCain out of gratitude. (Naturally, I’d need to be drunk and high to vote for McCain.)
People in Arizona don’t need flashy yard signs and bumper stickers proclaiming “McCain ’10.” With a 9.6% unemployment rate, Arizonans need money, and $74.64 is a nice start.
Pundits have framed this victory into several different themes. They say that he abandoned his self-described maverick persona, turning far right to defeat a strongly conservative candidate in a state hungry for red meat. They also say that McCain bucked the anti-incumbency wave that effectively ended the careers of colleagues from Utah, Pennsylvania, and possibly Alaska. They say that McCain is poised to become the lion of the Senate, able to work with colleagues on both sides of the isle from a position of respect.
Frankly, I don’t care about any of the pundit narratives. What interests me most is that McCain spent $21 million on the primary campaign. As a result, 281,347 people voted for McCain in Arizona. That works out to $74.64 per vote.
This seems like an ineffective way to run a campaign. Instead of spending money on commercials with haunting keyboard tones and splotchy videos of his opponent, McCain could have given voters something they want. He could just give voters $74.64.
I’m nearly broke. With $74.64, I could buy a bottle of Jack Daniels, an eighth of weed, and a half-rack of Budweiser (with the profits from the beer going straight back to McCain’s wife’s company!). Then after smoking a joint and doing a few shots of Jack chased by the Budweiser, I’d walk to my nearest polling place to vote for McCain out of gratitude. (Naturally, I’d need to be drunk and high to vote for McCain.)
People in Arizona don’t need flashy yard signs and bumper stickers proclaiming “McCain ’10.” With a 9.6% unemployment rate, Arizonans need money, and $74.64 is a nice start.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
The Third Date
Tonight is my third date with Tina. Our first date went well. We went to a coffeehouse in SE and got to know each other better. I found out that she’s really into music, can talk intelligently about politics, and can hold her own on during a night of barhopping, all of which are good traits in a potential mate. I kissed her goodnight and was pleasantly surprised to find her tongue in my mouth.
Four our second date, we went to a bar downtown for drinks and appetizers. I prefer this arrangement, as the alcohol helps with my nervousness on dates. Apparently, this is true for Tina as well, as she had a great sense of humor that night. We joked about George W. Bush, hipsters, and impotent but expensive drinks served at most downtown bars. I walked Tina to her car, and she suggested we keep talking in the back seat. Naturally, talking led to making out. Although our hormones were raging, we were limited in what we could do since we were on a busy, well-lit street. I’m sure if we were in a bedroom (or a dim parking garage), my six-month celibacy streak would be over.
Tonight, Tina is coming to my apartment to watch a DVD. I’m sure she’s expecting to test the springiness of my mattress as well. I was thinking the same thing until I woke up this morning and felt a searing pain on my upper left thigh. Upon further inspection, a gigantic red zit has taken residence right near my junk. How am I going to explain this to Tina when we get naked? “No it’s not an STD. It’s a zit. Just ignore it and come fuck me!”
I’m going to cancel tonight. I hope Tina doesn’t lose interest.
Four our second date, we went to a bar downtown for drinks and appetizers. I prefer this arrangement, as the alcohol helps with my nervousness on dates. Apparently, this is true for Tina as well, as she had a great sense of humor that night. We joked about George W. Bush, hipsters, and impotent but expensive drinks served at most downtown bars. I walked Tina to her car, and she suggested we keep talking in the back seat. Naturally, talking led to making out. Although our hormones were raging, we were limited in what we could do since we were on a busy, well-lit street. I’m sure if we were in a bedroom (or a dim parking garage), my six-month celibacy streak would be over.
Tonight, Tina is coming to my apartment to watch a DVD. I’m sure she’s expecting to test the springiness of my mattress as well. I was thinking the same thing until I woke up this morning and felt a searing pain on my upper left thigh. Upon further inspection, a gigantic red zit has taken residence right near my junk. How am I going to explain this to Tina when we get naked? “No it’s not an STD. It’s a zit. Just ignore it and come fuck me!”
I’m going to cancel tonight. I hope Tina doesn’t lose interest.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Reality Show Contestant Dies During Filming
(AP) – CBS is currently reviewing safety procedures for all of its reality shows following the death of a contestant during the filming of the series “The Estate” scheduled to air in the fall lineup.
Dan Cather, 36, of Scottsdale, Arizona was one of eight contestants competing to be the sole heir of Adam Witherspoon’s estate, which primarily was amassed through leverage trading. The estate is valued at nearly $40 million. Cather is Witherspoon’s nephew.
The show featured relatives competing against each other at both mental and physical tasks to prove their worthiness of the Witherspoon fortune. Contests included differentiating expensive and cheap wine while blindfolded, drawing a family tree without reference material, and redecorating a room in Witherspoon’s 9-bedroom house in Florida.
Cather was hauling a diesel generator on sand on Monday when he collapsed. He died in the hospital two hours later of a massive hear attack. Cather was attempting to set up a beach party during one of the competitions for the show.
Following the incident, CBS issued the following statement. “Our deepest sympathies go out to the family of Dan Cather following his tragic death. We have discontinued production of ‘The Estate’ out of consideration for the family.”
CBS spokesperson Dana McClintock said she doesn’t expect the incident to affect other popular reality shows on CBS, such as ‘Survivor’ and ‘The Amazing Race.’ “We take safety during reality competitions seriously and are currently reviewing procedures to ensure that we are doing everything we can to keep people safe. Although Dan Cather’s death is a tragedy, it proves that the proceedings in these shows are real. Viewers won’t watch the show if the danger is fake.”
Dan Cather, 36, of Scottsdale, Arizona was one of eight contestants competing to be the sole heir of Adam Witherspoon’s estate, which primarily was amassed through leverage trading. The estate is valued at nearly $40 million. Cather is Witherspoon’s nephew.
The show featured relatives competing against each other at both mental and physical tasks to prove their worthiness of the Witherspoon fortune. Contests included differentiating expensive and cheap wine while blindfolded, drawing a family tree without reference material, and redecorating a room in Witherspoon’s 9-bedroom house in Florida.
Cather was hauling a diesel generator on sand on Monday when he collapsed. He died in the hospital two hours later of a massive hear attack. Cather was attempting to set up a beach party during one of the competitions for the show.
Following the incident, CBS issued the following statement. “Our deepest sympathies go out to the family of Dan Cather following his tragic death. We have discontinued production of ‘The Estate’ out of consideration for the family.”
CBS spokesperson Dana McClintock said she doesn’t expect the incident to affect other popular reality shows on CBS, such as ‘Survivor’ and ‘The Amazing Race.’ “We take safety during reality competitions seriously and are currently reviewing procedures to ensure that we are doing everything we can to keep people safe. Although Dan Cather’s death is a tragedy, it proves that the proceedings in these shows are real. Viewers won’t watch the show if the danger is fake.”
Monday, August 23, 2010
Browser History
I’m a call center supervisor, so I know what it must be like to teach an unruly, immature high school class. I thought the job would entail making schedules and teaching employees how to push our new debit cards, but most of my time is spent refereeing petty squabbles and begging people to fill in for other workers that are too hung over to report to work.
On Monday, my employee Craig’s computer wasn’t working, so I had him work at Nick’s workstation. When Nick returned to work on Tuesday, he said to me, “I don’t mind you having someone else use my computer, but whoever did changed all of my settings and cleared my browser history.” Call center workers aren’t supposed to be websurfing at work, and we keep a log of all visits regardless of the browser history. I went to the IT guy and got a printout of all the websites Craig visited. I then went home and checked them out. In addition to some mundane things, Craig went to a couple of dating websites, a site about the detrimental affects of prolonged meth use, and several porn sites catering to men who like larger women.
Looking at porn at work is a terminable offense, so Craig no longer works for the company. Now I have to interview a bunch of losers to find a replacement who I’ll probably have to fire in a month anyway. This isn’t the worst of it, though. Unbeknownst to me, my loving wife Audrey regularly checks my browser history. I know this because she subtly (or as subtly as she could) asked me if I was cheating on her, doing meth, or wanted her to put on a few pounds.
On Monday, my employee Craig’s computer wasn’t working, so I had him work at Nick’s workstation. When Nick returned to work on Tuesday, he said to me, “I don’t mind you having someone else use my computer, but whoever did changed all of my settings and cleared my browser history.” Call center workers aren’t supposed to be websurfing at work, and we keep a log of all visits regardless of the browser history. I went to the IT guy and got a printout of all the websites Craig visited. I then went home and checked them out. In addition to some mundane things, Craig went to a couple of dating websites, a site about the detrimental affects of prolonged meth use, and several porn sites catering to men who like larger women.
Looking at porn at work is a terminable offense, so Craig no longer works for the company. Now I have to interview a bunch of losers to find a replacement who I’ll probably have to fire in a month anyway. This isn’t the worst of it, though. Unbeknownst to me, my loving wife Audrey regularly checks my browser history. I know this because she subtly (or as subtly as she could) asked me if I was cheating on her, doing meth, or wanted her to put on a few pounds.
Friday, August 20, 2010
My Ex-Girlfriend's Revenge
I don’t talk to Abby Skorotzski much these days. The breakup wasn’t that devastating for either of us. It was just time to move on. We petered out.
Last week I was at the big bookstore downtown when I stumbled upon a table with books from local authors by a DIY publisher. I spotted a book with the title “The Forestland Murders” in some poorly-rendered font by Abby Skorotzski. The back cover said it was a story about an illusive serial killer and the cops who track him. I doubt there’s more than one Abby Skorotzski in the area, so I decided I’d buy the book. She always said she wanted to write a book, so kudos to her for getting it done. Plus, they say, “Write what you know,” so maybe the trip we took to Vancouver together somehow made it in the story.
I was amazed to find the following passage on page 37.
Last week I was at the big bookstore downtown when I stumbled upon a table with books from local authors by a DIY publisher. I spotted a book with the title “The Forestland Murders” in some poorly-rendered font by Abby Skorotzski. The back cover said it was a story about an illusive serial killer and the cops who track him. I doubt there’s more than one Abby Skorotzski in the area, so I decided I’d buy the book. She always said she wanted to write a book, so kudos to her for getting it done. Plus, they say, “Write what you know,” so maybe the trip we took to Vancouver together somehow made it in the story.
I was amazed to find the following passage on page 37.
Linda asked her partner David if the crime scene was the most horrific that he had seen. David had been in the business for years and had witnessed nearly everything, but was obviously shaken. He apologized to Linda.
“Sorry,” David said, rubbing his hat in his hands. “I just had a flashback to this one sicko we arrested in ’92. This guy kept his daughter locked in the basement her whole life, repeatedly raping and beating her. She apparently had four kids with the creep. They were preserved in jars of formaldehyde within his daughter’s view but not her reach. The poor girl also had to live with the crudely mummified remains of her mother. I still have nightmares of that discovery.”
“I think I remember seeing that story on the news. The perp was Wilt Divide, wasn’t it?” Linda asked.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Are You There Africa? It's Me, Will.
You may not be aware of this, but I am watching you. No, I don’t have the ability to turn on your webcam and watch you masturbate (although that would be some cool technology). Instead, I am able to track things like where you’re located, what browser or mobile device you used to view me, and what Google search term you used to find me.
By far, the two post that have generated the most traffic to Fashionable Amish are my fake news story about Adam Richman’s untimely demise and the post about the leak of the Interpol album. This has resulted in page hits from Portugal to Estonia to Pakistan to Australia to Missouri. I take pride in claiming readership in four of the seven continents.
One of the continents that has yet to sample the pleasure of Fashionable Amish is Africa. I find this unfortunate, so in hopes of being able to put another continent on the map, the following points are written to catch the eye of someone using http://www.google.co.za/. (Is it ok to make fun of Africa like this? Probably not.)
• That Charles Taylor was a big dick, wasn’t he?
• Yes, you can cure AIDDS without having to slaughter an albino person.
• Free vuvzelas!
• Man claims his Oracle Summer Retreat 2006 t-shirt is much cooler than his neighbor’s Arizona Cardinals World Champions t-shirt.
• Somalia pirate school starting soon. Sign up for the fall semester.
• Nigeria to distribute oil profits to the people!
• Nelson Mandela – still better than any leader your country has got.
• Zimbabwe claims diamonds now 38% less bloody.
• Christian Dior unveils the new dashikis for 2011.
• Gorillas are cool!
• What’s with all the goddamn flies?
By far, the two post that have generated the most traffic to Fashionable Amish are my fake news story about Adam Richman’s untimely demise and the post about the leak of the Interpol album. This has resulted in page hits from Portugal to Estonia to Pakistan to Australia to Missouri. I take pride in claiming readership in four of the seven continents.
One of the continents that has yet to sample the pleasure of Fashionable Amish is Africa. I find this unfortunate, so in hopes of being able to put another continent on the map, the following points are written to catch the eye of someone using http://www.google.co.za/. (Is it ok to make fun of Africa like this? Probably not.)
• That Charles Taylor was a big dick, wasn’t he?
• Yes, you can cure AIDDS without having to slaughter an albino person.
• Free vuvzelas!
• Man claims his Oracle Summer Retreat 2006 t-shirt is much cooler than his neighbor’s Arizona Cardinals World Champions t-shirt.
• Somalia pirate school starting soon. Sign up for the fall semester.
• Nigeria to distribute oil profits to the people!
• Nelson Mandela – still better than any leader your country has got.
• Zimbabwe claims diamonds now 38% less bloody.
• Christian Dior unveils the new dashikis for 2011.
• Gorillas are cool!
• What’s with all the goddamn flies?
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
An Open Letter to Meat Eaters from a Vegetarian
Dear Meat Eaters of the World:
Hi there. My name is Will Divide. I have been a vegetarian since 1997. When I started vegetarianism, it was with the best intentions: to not harm animals and to try to eat healthy. These days, the only reason that I’m still a vegetarian is that the idea of eating meat doesn’t appeal to me. A friend once asked me how I know that I wouldn’t enjoy eating meat if I didn’t eat some. The way I see it, I don’t need to engage in butt sex with another man to know that I wouldn’t enjoy it. I feel the same way about meat.
When I first tell people that I am a vegetarian, they always feel the need to justify their meat eating. “Oh, I would be a vegetarian too, but I feel weak if I don’t eat meat every once in a while,” they say. Or the might say something like, “I only eat chicken and fish. That and the occasional bacon double cheeseburger.” Know what? I don’t give a fuck whether you eat meat or not. Eat whatever you want. I didn’t become a vegetarian so that I could smugly lord it over insecure omnivores. I’m a vegetarian, not a Mormon.
Despite my vegetarianism, I’m a big fan of the Travel Channel’s Bizarre Foods. Just because I won’t eat a steak doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy watching Andrew Zimmern attack a platter of snake penises. This kind of fascination is the same thing that drives sales of Nazi sexploitation literature in Israel.
So eat all the meat you want. We vegetarians aren’t judging you. As allies and not adversaries, we can tackle the real food problems of the world. Like Taco Bell.
You humble blogger,
Will Divide
Hi there. My name is Will Divide. I have been a vegetarian since 1997. When I started vegetarianism, it was with the best intentions: to not harm animals and to try to eat healthy. These days, the only reason that I’m still a vegetarian is that the idea of eating meat doesn’t appeal to me. A friend once asked me how I know that I wouldn’t enjoy eating meat if I didn’t eat some. The way I see it, I don’t need to engage in butt sex with another man to know that I wouldn’t enjoy it. I feel the same way about meat.
When I first tell people that I am a vegetarian, they always feel the need to justify their meat eating. “Oh, I would be a vegetarian too, but I feel weak if I don’t eat meat every once in a while,” they say. Or the might say something like, “I only eat chicken and fish. That and the occasional bacon double cheeseburger.” Know what? I don’t give a fuck whether you eat meat or not. Eat whatever you want. I didn’t become a vegetarian so that I could smugly lord it over insecure omnivores. I’m a vegetarian, not a Mormon.
Despite my vegetarianism, I’m a big fan of the Travel Channel’s Bizarre Foods. Just because I won’t eat a steak doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy watching Andrew Zimmern attack a platter of snake penises. This kind of fascination is the same thing that drives sales of Nazi sexploitation literature in Israel.
So eat all the meat you want. We vegetarians aren’t judging you. As allies and not adversaries, we can tackle the real food problems of the world. Like Taco Bell.
You humble blogger,
Will Divide
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Monday, August 16, 2010
Youth Club Speaker
CLUB PRESIDENT: Our guest speaker at the Youth Club tonight is Reginald Coleman. Mr. Coleman is a former gang member and convicted felon who turned his life around. He now goes around the country speaking to at-risk youth about how to resolve conflicts non-violently. It’s my pleasure to introduce Reginald Coleman.
[Polite Applause]
REGINALD COLEMAN: Thank you, Mr. President. I’m sure a lot of speakers would say that when they see a group of kids like you, they see themselves as a younger person. I won’t say that. When I was your age, I wouldn’t have attended a youth group. I was out shoplifting, drinking, and tagging buildings. I was and hotheaded and would throw a punch at anyone who looked at me the wrong way. At 17, I was arrested for robbing a convenience store of $87 and spent the next four years in jail.
You have a choice to make in jail - you can either make a vow never to return, or you can plot your next crime. I decided I didn’t want to come back, but how is a young man who has spent his teenage years gangbanging and his adult life in prison supposed to go straight?
I got lucky and had a parole officer who was understanding. While in prison, I came up with a controversial idea on how to avoid violence. I gave up drinking altogether and just smoke pot. All the time. In fact, I’m high right now. What I came to learn in prison was the only time I didn’t want to kill someone was when I was high. These days, nothing bothers me. The other…
CLUB PRESIDENT: Thank you Mr. Coleman. Kids, although Mr. Coleman’s life story is triumphant I urge you not to smoke pot.
[Polite Applause]
REGINALD COLEMAN: Thank you, Mr. President. I’m sure a lot of speakers would say that when they see a group of kids like you, they see themselves as a younger person. I won’t say that. When I was your age, I wouldn’t have attended a youth group. I was out shoplifting, drinking, and tagging buildings. I was and hotheaded and would throw a punch at anyone who looked at me the wrong way. At 17, I was arrested for robbing a convenience store of $87 and spent the next four years in jail.
You have a choice to make in jail - you can either make a vow never to return, or you can plot your next crime. I decided I didn’t want to come back, but how is a young man who has spent his teenage years gangbanging and his adult life in prison supposed to go straight?
I got lucky and had a parole officer who was understanding. While in prison, I came up with a controversial idea on how to avoid violence. I gave up drinking altogether and just smoke pot. All the time. In fact, I’m high right now. What I came to learn in prison was the only time I didn’t want to kill someone was when I was high. These days, nothing bothers me. The other…
CLUB PRESIDENT: Thank you Mr. Coleman. Kids, although Mr. Coleman’s life story is triumphant I urge you not to smoke pot.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Terrorist Babies
People sometimes forget that politics can be funny. Unintentionally funny. Funny like watching Keanu Reaves in a melodrama funny.
Watch Louie Gohmert, Republican Congressman from Texas, on Anderson Cooper. Frankly, if you only watch the first couple of minutes of it, you’ll get the joke. It isn’t so much an interview as it is an extended Gohmert monologue with Cooper attempting to intervene to ask questions that never get answered.
Let’s take a look at Gohmert’s argument. He is essentially saying that terrorists are using a clause in the 14th Amendment to have babies in the US with the intention that the baby will grow up to wreak destruction in the US.
Gohmert says multiple times that the terrorists aren’t stupid. If this is correct, they’ve probably done the following analysis.
Process to make a terrorist baby:
Timeline – 15-20 years
Alternate process for creating US citizen terrorists:
Timeline - immediate
I’m not sure that Gohmert actually believes his own rhetoric. I am convinced that Gohmert thinks this kind of demagoguery is necessary to get more Republicans elected to federal office. On this last point, I fear Gohmert is right.
Watch Louie Gohmert, Republican Congressman from Texas, on Anderson Cooper. Frankly, if you only watch the first couple of minutes of it, you’ll get the joke. It isn’t so much an interview as it is an extended Gohmert monologue with Cooper attempting to intervene to ask questions that never get answered.
Let’s take a look at Gohmert’s argument. He is essentially saying that terrorists are using a clause in the 14th Amendment to have babies in the US with the intention that the baby will grow up to wreak destruction in the US.
Gohmert says multiple times that the terrorists aren’t stupid. If this is correct, they’ve probably done the following analysis.
Process to make a terrorist baby:
Timeline – 15-20 years
1. Fly loyalists to US. Make sure female is pregnant.
2. Have women give birth on US soil.
3. Have parents apply for US citizenship for child (and do so without disclosing terrorist connections of parents).
4. Wait 15-20 years.
5. Jihadist revolution against Western infidels!
Examples of this working – none (but wait a few years and we may see some).
Alternate process for creating US citizen terrorists:
Timeline - immediate
1. Propagate pro-Jihadist materials on the internet for recruitment worldwide.
2. Hope that some small fraction of US citizens find this compelling and decide to join up.
3. Jihadist revolution against Western infidels!
Examples of this working – Jose Padilla (“Dirty Bomber”) and Colleen LaRose (“Jihad Jane”) among others
I’m not sure that Gohmert actually believes his own rhetoric. I am convinced that Gohmert thinks this kind of demagoguery is necessary to get more Republicans elected to federal office. On this last point, I fear Gohmert is right.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Found in My Spam Folder V
Let’s say that you want to get out of a trip to the in-laws. Or let’s say you want your boss to give you a big promotion. Or let’s say you meet an attractive woman at a bar and you want her to have sex with you.
These real life scenarios play out all over the world on a regular basis. Getting someone to conform to your will is not a skill most people posses; yet it can be so beneficial to your level of contentment in life. Psudo-psychological approaches (like the book The Secret) don’t work.
That’s where my approach comes in. My name is Arnold Goldman, and I have written a book to help you up your chances of convincing other people to do what you want. What makes my approach so special is that it doesn’t require you to spend hours of time researching. You don’t have to hone your debating skills either. Heck, you don’t even need to be coherent. (My approach will work even when you’re drunk!)
Through this special internet-only offer, you can get my book, The One Word, for only $19.95 (plus shipping and handling). What is that one word? It’s “c’mon.”
My book shows you when to properly use the word “c’mon” to get anyone on your side of the argument. It uses lessons learned from a Stanford study that showed using the word “c’mon” after someone says “no” will get that person to change their mind 78% of the time. It also has testimonials from people who have used “c’mon” to improve their careers, love life, and personal interactions.
With proper timing, inflection, and body language, the word “c’mon” can get you anything you want in life. Buy my book and find out how.
These real life scenarios play out all over the world on a regular basis. Getting someone to conform to your will is not a skill most people posses; yet it can be so beneficial to your level of contentment in life. Psudo-psychological approaches (like the book The Secret) don’t work.
That’s where my approach comes in. My name is Arnold Goldman, and I have written a book to help you up your chances of convincing other people to do what you want. What makes my approach so special is that it doesn’t require you to spend hours of time researching. You don’t have to hone your debating skills either. Heck, you don’t even need to be coherent. (My approach will work even when you’re drunk!)
Through this special internet-only offer, you can get my book, The One Word, for only $19.95 (plus shipping and handling). What is that one word? It’s “c’mon.”
My book shows you when to properly use the word “c’mon” to get anyone on your side of the argument. It uses lessons learned from a Stanford study that showed using the word “c’mon” after someone says “no” will get that person to change their mind 78% of the time. It also has testimonials from people who have used “c’mon” to improve their careers, love life, and personal interactions.
With proper timing, inflection, and body language, the word “c’mon” can get you anything you want in life. Buy my book and find out how.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
The Text Message
Today I got a text message from my fiancé Brenda that simply said, “You’re a fucker.” When I asked what I did wrong, the next text read, “If you still want to marry me, you have a lot of explaining to do.” It was difficult to concentrate on work, wondering what horror I would come home to. I was really clueless.
When I cam home, there was a note on the coffee table saying, “I’m staying at my mom’s.” Next to the note was a women’s thong, which Brenda does not wear. I was bewildered until I remembered the origin of the thong.
Before I met Brenda, I lived with a roommate named Tim who had just broken up with his girlfriend. I was dating a girl named Lowen. Lowen loved to have sex, and I was happy to accommodate. At the same time, I was cognizant of Tim’s state, so we had sex when Tim was out of the apartment so as not to taunt him with ecstatic moaning.
Tim once took a week off work but mostly stayed in the apartment. Lowen was over one night and was feeling horny. I told her that we could have sex as long as we were quiet. Our attempts to keep silent were thwarted by the box spring rubbing against the bed frame, which made an obvious squeaking noise. Not wanting to stop, I took what was handy (Lowen’s thong) and jammed it in between the box spring and frame, which muffled the squeak. Years later, I totally forgot about the thong jammed in the bed.
Now I have to figure out how to tell Brenda this. “…Yes, I know they’re not your panties…. Yes, I did have sex with the owner of the panties…. It’s not what you think!”
When I cam home, there was a note on the coffee table saying, “I’m staying at my mom’s.” Next to the note was a women’s thong, which Brenda does not wear. I was bewildered until I remembered the origin of the thong.
Before I met Brenda, I lived with a roommate named Tim who had just broken up with his girlfriend. I was dating a girl named Lowen. Lowen loved to have sex, and I was happy to accommodate. At the same time, I was cognizant of Tim’s state, so we had sex when Tim was out of the apartment so as not to taunt him with ecstatic moaning.
Tim once took a week off work but mostly stayed in the apartment. Lowen was over one night and was feeling horny. I told her that we could have sex as long as we were quiet. Our attempts to keep silent were thwarted by the box spring rubbing against the bed frame, which made an obvious squeaking noise. Not wanting to stop, I took what was handy (Lowen’s thong) and jammed it in between the box spring and frame, which muffled the squeak. Years later, I totally forgot about the thong jammed in the bed.
Now I have to figure out how to tell Brenda this. “…Yes, I know they’re not your panties…. Yes, I did have sex with the owner of the panties…. It’s not what you think!”
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
In the Mind of Men
Do women know what goes through a man’s head during sex? Do they think we’re focusing on how great of a sex god we are? Do they think we are concentrating on rhythm and technique? Or do the think we are thinking about baseball?
In my case, I’m usually thinking about not coming. Years of masturbation have trained me that:
Although a quickly-produced sockfull of goo is useful when you’re trying to rub one out before the roommate returns from the 7-11, it is less useful during sex, where women want to enjoy the act and have it last for more than a minute.
The most effective way to stave off the inevitable ejaculation is to stop the action for a moment. This usually causes the orgasmic imperative to subside. Unfortunately, when she’s yelling, “Don’t stop!” stopping would be considered cruel and unusual punishment.
Recently, while trying to not come, I noticed that I had a snot in my nose. I wanted to blow it, but I was predisposed. Focusing on its chlorine-like smell and how it felt in the nostril made me last like a porn star. The next time I had sex, I was able to last as long by just thinking about having a snot in my nose.
The technique only worked for so long. Psychologists talk about positive reinforcement, where when you get a reward for certain activity, you tend to repeat the activity. For me, the reward for a snot was awesome sex. Now, every time I get a snot in my nose, I get turned on.
Maybe I should think about baseball.
In my case, I’m usually thinking about not coming. Years of masturbation have trained me that:
Naked woman moaning + Vigorous friction on my unit = A sputtering mess
Although a quickly-produced sockfull of goo is useful when you’re trying to rub one out before the roommate returns from the 7-11, it is less useful during sex, where women want to enjoy the act and have it last for more than a minute.
The most effective way to stave off the inevitable ejaculation is to stop the action for a moment. This usually causes the orgasmic imperative to subside. Unfortunately, when she’s yelling, “Don’t stop!” stopping would be considered cruel and unusual punishment.
Recently, while trying to not come, I noticed that I had a snot in my nose. I wanted to blow it, but I was predisposed. Focusing on its chlorine-like smell and how it felt in the nostril made me last like a porn star. The next time I had sex, I was able to last as long by just thinking about having a snot in my nose.
The technique only worked for so long. Psychologists talk about positive reinforcement, where when you get a reward for certain activity, you tend to repeat the activity. For me, the reward for a snot was awesome sex. Now, every time I get a snot in my nose, I get turned on.
Maybe I should think about baseball.
Monday, August 9, 2010
The Community Meeting
I’m not a big fan of getting together with my neighbors to pressure the city council to remove the weeds from the baseball field. After all, what do I have in common with my neighbors other than that we live in the same area?
My isolationism changed once the burglaries started. I was watering my roses when my next-door neighbor Janet told me that she had a TV and jewelry stolen from her house. She asked if I had seen anything suspicious, but I had nothing to report. Later I noticed that my lawnmower was missing from my shed. Money has been tight lately since my wife got laid off, so I was really upset.
While walking the dog, I saw a sign posted in the neighborhood about a meeting to organize a neighborhood watch group. I decided to attend.
The meeting was at the home of the Camerons, a couple I’d never met. We sat on folded chairs in the living room, eating lemon squares and drinking coffee. A couple of cops were there as well. The guy sitting next to me whispered to me, “That TV looks exactly like the one I had stolen from me. It even has the same scuff mark in the corner.” My next-door neighbor Janet overheard us and said loudly, “Ms. Cameron is wearing my broach that was stolen.” One of the cops said, “Are you serious?” Janet was.
The Camerons were arrested that day with over $50,000 worth of stolen merchandise on their property, including my now redundant lawn mower. I have to give them some credit though. It takes gigantic balls to steal from your neighbors and then have everyone over to your home to view your newfound booty. That or tiny brains. One or the other.
My isolationism changed once the burglaries started. I was watering my roses when my next-door neighbor Janet told me that she had a TV and jewelry stolen from her house. She asked if I had seen anything suspicious, but I had nothing to report. Later I noticed that my lawnmower was missing from my shed. Money has been tight lately since my wife got laid off, so I was really upset.
While walking the dog, I saw a sign posted in the neighborhood about a meeting to organize a neighborhood watch group. I decided to attend.
The meeting was at the home of the Camerons, a couple I’d never met. We sat on folded chairs in the living room, eating lemon squares and drinking coffee. A couple of cops were there as well. The guy sitting next to me whispered to me, “That TV looks exactly like the one I had stolen from me. It even has the same scuff mark in the corner.” My next-door neighbor Janet overheard us and said loudly, “Ms. Cameron is wearing my broach that was stolen.” One of the cops said, “Are you serious?” Janet was.
The Camerons were arrested that day with over $50,000 worth of stolen merchandise on their property, including my now redundant lawn mower. I have to give them some credit though. It takes gigantic balls to steal from your neighbors and then have everyone over to your home to view your newfound booty. That or tiny brains. One or the other.
Friday, August 6, 2010
A Great First Date
Last night I had the most awesome date. I haven’t been dating much lately, so I decided to give the match.com a try. After a couple of email conversations that didn’t go anywhere, I started corresponding with Tara. The picture on her profile is hot, but you can put any picture up there. (Hell, the picture on my profile is my brother!) We appeared to have some good rapport over email, so I decided to set up a meeting at a bar yesterday.
I got to the bar early to get a few drinks in me to help with my nerves. Three shots of whiskey made me good and loose when Tara walked in. I was impressed; she looked better in real life than she did in her picture.
Tara was wearing a tasteful blouse and skirt, while I was wearing a ratty t-shirt and jeans. I apologized and told her I didn’t think we were dressing up for this date, but she said it was ok. I then started talking about the weather, which had been unusually hot lately. Tara accurately compared the weather to last week’s, which impressed me. This was followed by a comfortable silence where I stared at Tara with a sheepish grin and Tara looked at her drink. We had several other short conversations like this followed by periods of silence. Tara then excused herself to go to her mom’s house to fix her computer. I found it charming that Tara has a good relationship with her mother.
I called Tara the next day, but she didn’t answer. In our brief conversation, Tara mentioned that she wants to travel to Belize. I guess she’s in Belize now, and that’s why she hasn’t responded to me. I know we’ll have fun when she gets back though.
I got to the bar early to get a few drinks in me to help with my nerves. Three shots of whiskey made me good and loose when Tara walked in. I was impressed; she looked better in real life than she did in her picture.
Tara was wearing a tasteful blouse and skirt, while I was wearing a ratty t-shirt and jeans. I apologized and told her I didn’t think we were dressing up for this date, but she said it was ok. I then started talking about the weather, which had been unusually hot lately. Tara accurately compared the weather to last week’s, which impressed me. This was followed by a comfortable silence where I stared at Tara with a sheepish grin and Tara looked at her drink. We had several other short conversations like this followed by periods of silence. Tara then excused herself to go to her mom’s house to fix her computer. I found it charming that Tara has a good relationship with her mother.
I called Tara the next day, but she didn’t answer. In our brief conversation, Tara mentioned that she wants to travel to Belize. I guess she’s in Belize now, and that’s why she hasn’t responded to me. I know we’ll have fun when she gets back though.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
The Greatest Injustice of All
If you’re a conservative with a conscious, the news is filled with cringe-worthy story after story. First, voters in California voted to ban gay marriage, but some activist judge decided their opinions don’t matter. (Of course, it later turns out that the judge in the case, one Vaughn Walker, (how do I put this delicately) prefers fudge to tuna. Then there’s the mosque that their putting next to Ground Zero, much like an invading horde places its flag in the soil of conquered lands. It also has come out that as part of the government stimulus (all of which was added to the debt), we are buying cocaine for monkeys.
Sure I’m upset by these events, but this one takes the cake. I even imagine liberals, with their “everything’s ok with me” philosophy might be pissed about this. Are you sitting down? Ok good.
They’re making a movie called Captain America: The First Avenger. This makes sense; superhero movies are make money, and it’s good to see them take a more patriotic approach to superhero movies. However, news has come out today that Marvel Studios is going to film the movie in Great Britain. Yes, you read that correctly. Captain America, a movie about the most American of superheroes, is going to be filmed in jolly ol’ England!
In his justification for supporting Elana Kagan’s Supreme Court nomination, Senator Lindsey Graham (R-S.C.) said, “elections matter.” Know what matters more? Wars. We fought one 234 years ago so that we wouldn’t have to live under the tyranny of a monarchy. These brave men didn’t die so that we could feature our greatest supernatural icon having afternoon tea and eating bangers and mash.
Call your senator. Boycott Marvel. Hell, scream it out the window. Don’t let this injustice continue!
Sure I’m upset by these events, but this one takes the cake. I even imagine liberals, with their “everything’s ok with me” philosophy might be pissed about this. Are you sitting down? Ok good.
They’re making a movie called Captain America: The First Avenger. This makes sense; superhero movies are make money, and it’s good to see them take a more patriotic approach to superhero movies. However, news has come out today that Marvel Studios is going to film the movie in Great Britain. Yes, you read that correctly. Captain America, a movie about the most American of superheroes, is going to be filmed in jolly ol’ England!
In his justification for supporting Elana Kagan’s Supreme Court nomination, Senator Lindsey Graham (R-S.C.) said, “elections matter.” Know what matters more? Wars. We fought one 234 years ago so that we wouldn’t have to live under the tyranny of a monarchy. These brave men didn’t die so that we could feature our greatest supernatural icon having afternoon tea and eating bangers and mash.
Call your senator. Boycott Marvel. Hell, scream it out the window. Don’t let this injustice continue!
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Ironic Death
I don’t know anyone that was really a good friend of Freddie’s, but he was at every party and always seemed to be at the bar anytime we were there. Don’t get me wrong, Freddie wasn’t that bad a guy. He could do a spot on impersonation of Obama and was passionate about Vampire Weekend.
One important lesson I learned about Freddie was that if anyone brought up September 11 when he was drunk, he’d always get on the same passionate diatribe. “Those people on the airplanes were pussies,” he’d slur. “All except the one that crashed in Pennsylvania. What did the terrorists use to hijack the airplanes? Plastic eating utensils. What did the pilots on the plane say? ‘Ok, have at the cockpit. Just don’t scratch me with that plastic knife!’”
If anyone tried to defend the crew or passengers, Freddie would just raise his voice and repeat his argument. This tirade had caused the end to more than one party.
Freddie was a dutiful son and would do odd jobs for his parents like yard work. Last summer, Freddie was mowing the lawn when the mower ran over a plastic knife. The mower flung the knife at Freddie’s abdomen. It lacerated his colon, sending fecal material into his bloodstream. He died at the hospital the next day.
In my own mind, I imagine having that September 11 conversation with Freddie again. I have pointed out to Freddie that his own death is proof that plastic cutlery can be lethal and that the 9/11 victims on the airplane are not as culpable as he argues. To this, Freddie replies that the damage caused by a machine is not the same as what a human could do, making the comparison invalid. That’s just the kind of guy Freddie was.
One important lesson I learned about Freddie was that if anyone brought up September 11 when he was drunk, he’d always get on the same passionate diatribe. “Those people on the airplanes were pussies,” he’d slur. “All except the one that crashed in Pennsylvania. What did the terrorists use to hijack the airplanes? Plastic eating utensils. What did the pilots on the plane say? ‘Ok, have at the cockpit. Just don’t scratch me with that plastic knife!’”
If anyone tried to defend the crew or passengers, Freddie would just raise his voice and repeat his argument. This tirade had caused the end to more than one party.
Freddie was a dutiful son and would do odd jobs for his parents like yard work. Last summer, Freddie was mowing the lawn when the mower ran over a plastic knife. The mower flung the knife at Freddie’s abdomen. It lacerated his colon, sending fecal material into his bloodstream. He died at the hospital the next day.
In my own mind, I imagine having that September 11 conversation with Freddie again. I have pointed out to Freddie that his own death is proof that plastic cutlery can be lethal and that the 9/11 victims on the airplane are not as culpable as he argues. To this, Freddie replies that the damage caused by a machine is not the same as what a human could do, making the comparison invalid. That’s just the kind of guy Freddie was.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Will Divide Announces His Retirement
We now bring you live to Will Divide’s press conference.
[sounds of pictures being taken]
I’d like to thank you all for coming here. I’ve been working on this blog for nearly six months now. It has been at times trying, but it’s also been incredibly rewarding. It warms my heart to know that I was able to bring joy and consternation to the masses. That is why I announce with a heavy heart that as of today, I am retiring as a blogger.
It’s a long held axiom among successful athletes that you should retire before you are forced to leave due to ineffectiveness. Although I have been blogging at a high level for a long time, I want to retire on top, before my skills diminish. This concern is further exacerbated by my recent inability to find high-quality marijuana.
Some people will ask if it was all worth it. All I can say is that it has been an incredible ride. If my mostly estranged son Will Divide Jr. decides he wants to be a blogger, I would support his decision with pride.
Before anyone sheds a tear for me, understand that I take inspiration from those who came before me, men like Michael Jordan, Brett Farve, Richard Nixon, and Roger Clemens. All of these men realized that in order to affirm their greatness, they need to retire only to return (in some cases, multiple times). Nixon said, “You won't have Nixon to kick around any more,” only to return six years later for more kicking.
What does this all mean? Until I get busted for use of blog-enhancing drugs, I will continue to write this thing. Since daytime TV isn’t worth watching, I have nothing better to do with my mornings.
[sounds of pictures being taken]
I’d like to thank you all for coming here. I’ve been working on this blog for nearly six months now. It has been at times trying, but it’s also been incredibly rewarding. It warms my heart to know that I was able to bring joy and consternation to the masses. That is why I announce with a heavy heart that as of today, I am retiring as a blogger.
It’s a long held axiom among successful athletes that you should retire before you are forced to leave due to ineffectiveness. Although I have been blogging at a high level for a long time, I want to retire on top, before my skills diminish. This concern is further exacerbated by my recent inability to find high-quality marijuana.
Some people will ask if it was all worth it. All I can say is that it has been an incredible ride. If my mostly estranged son Will Divide Jr. decides he wants to be a blogger, I would support his decision with pride.
Before anyone sheds a tear for me, understand that I take inspiration from those who came before me, men like Michael Jordan, Brett Farve, Richard Nixon, and Roger Clemens. All of these men realized that in order to affirm their greatness, they need to retire only to return (in some cases, multiple times). Nixon said, “You won't have Nixon to kick around any more,” only to return six years later for more kicking.
What does this all mean? Until I get busted for use of blog-enhancing drugs, I will continue to write this thing. Since daytime TV isn’t worth watching, I have nothing better to do with my mornings.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Lohan Sex Tape Sales Sluggish
(Bloomberg) - Luscious Entertainment, which had hoped to break records with their latest celebrity sex tape featuring Lindsay Lohan, has reported surprisingly sluggish sales.
The tape, called Lindsay Lohan – Fully Loaded, was sold to Luscious by Andy Gregerson who also appears in the film. It features the inebriated couple engaged in sexual activity at an undisclosed NY hotel in 2008. Luscious had high hopes for the tape because of its relatively good film quality and the notoriety of the star. Industry insiders say that sales of the tape, both in physical DVD format and as internet pay-per-view and download, have been well short of expectations.
“I honestly thought this would be the highest selling celebrity sex tape in history, since Lohan is already famous,” said David Weller, president of pornography distribution company Pinnacle Distribution. “When the Kim Kardashian tape debuted, few people knew who she was, and it sold gangbusters.”
Lohan is famous for her work as a child star in movies including The Parent Trap, Freaky Friday, and Herbie – Fully Loaded. She also worked in films as an adult, appearing in Robert Altman’s final film A Prairie Home Companion and launched a singing career. In 2007, Lohan was arrested for a DUI. This was followed by trips to rehab, broken movie commitments, and a stay in jail for parole violation. She was recently released from jail to enroll in a rehab facility.
“With her notoriety and early good-girl persona, we thought the tape would sell better than it has,” Mark Freedman, Luscious CEO explained. “Still, we are proud to offer this product to the public. Sex tapes are a win-win. The notoriety helps gain publicity for the films’ subject, we make a little prophet, and the public gets to see naked celebrities having sex.”
The tape, called Lindsay Lohan – Fully Loaded, was sold to Luscious by Andy Gregerson who also appears in the film. It features the inebriated couple engaged in sexual activity at an undisclosed NY hotel in 2008. Luscious had high hopes for the tape because of its relatively good film quality and the notoriety of the star. Industry insiders say that sales of the tape, both in physical DVD format and as internet pay-per-view and download, have been well short of expectations.
“I honestly thought this would be the highest selling celebrity sex tape in history, since Lohan is already famous,” said David Weller, president of pornography distribution company Pinnacle Distribution. “When the Kim Kardashian tape debuted, few people knew who she was, and it sold gangbusters.”
Lohan is famous for her work as a child star in movies including The Parent Trap, Freaky Friday, and Herbie – Fully Loaded. She also worked in films as an adult, appearing in Robert Altman’s final film A Prairie Home Companion and launched a singing career. In 2007, Lohan was arrested for a DUI. This was followed by trips to rehab, broken movie commitments, and a stay in jail for parole violation. She was recently released from jail to enroll in a rehab facility.
“With her notoriety and early good-girl persona, we thought the tape would sell better than it has,” Mark Freedman, Luscious CEO explained. “Still, we are proud to offer this product to the public. Sex tapes are a win-win. The notoriety helps gain publicity for the films’ subject, we make a little prophet, and the public gets to see naked celebrities having sex.”
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