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Saturday, April 22, 2006

Pussy Etiquette: A Primer

In an earlier article, we discussed the secrets and mysteries of the vagina. In this installment, we would like to go further and illustrate some important facts about pussy etiquette.

There are a few key things to keep in mind when dealing with the pussy. First, and most importantly, when approaching the pussy, do not make sudden large movements which may be considered threatening. You don't want to spook the pussy.

If at any point you find yourself becoming scared or nervous, no matter how terrified you are...no not throw rocks at the pussy.

It is not wise to anger the pussy. If you find that you have done so, quickly scan your surrounding area for a rudimentary weapon of some kind for use in self-defense. If nothing can be found, try to escape with all due haste and take cover in a safe and secure area and wait for the pussy's wrath to subside.

You are not a pirate. Do not attempt to seize the pussy. Unless, of course, you are a pirate. In which case, please proceed with caution.

Booze has a tendency to make the pussy calmer and more inviting. Types and brands are irrelevant. They all seem to work equally well.

When hunting for pussy in a hostile enviroment (bars, bake sales, libraries, the world in total, etc.) take care to appear confident and self-assured. The pussy can sense fear and will act upon this weakness.

Always...and I mean always remember the following rules:

Keep the pussy away from bright light
Don't get any water on the pussy
Never, never ever feed the pussy after midnight

Wait...those are rules for the Mogwai...which really isn't all that similar to the pussy. Nevermind.

Basically, the thing you always need to remember is this: if you treat the pussy well, the pussy will treat you well. When in a giving mood, the pussy sometimes brings another friend to the party...the blowjob. The blowjob is a very good friend, indeed.

On a final note, while the pussy might be your friend...keep in mind that it can turn on you at any point. Be watchful. Be wary.

Now...go get some pussy.

How To Get Free Drinks

If you enjoy booze (and why the hell wouldn't you?), then you know that is would kick fourteen kinds of ass if you could drink for free. Want to know a secret? You can!

I will admit that the first, and most obvious, way to get free drinks pretty much only works for women. Basically, you need to have tits.

Big ones...little ones...it doesn't matter at all. Show a little bit of cleavage and look a little lonely...somehow every man becomes Don Juan and suddenly you are inundated with free drinks.

Unfortunately, you will also have guys hitting on you left and right and you will have to be nice otherwise the free drink train comes to a screeching halt.

Actually, that isn't true. Even total bitches get free drinks. Hell...even ugly bitches get free drinks. A woman could have a peg leg, a hunchback, a third eye in the center of her forehead and be a total bitch...and she would still get free drinks in most bars.

The world isn't fair.

If you are a guy, you are kind of screwed. If you want free drinks you really only have two options.

One is to find the saddest and horniest chick in the county. Sit alone in a bar and steal glances at her from time to time. Eventually, she'll buy you a drink to break the ice and talk with you.

Of course, this could backfire wildly and she may simply walk up to you and say "We're both alone...both horny...wanna bump uglies?". If this happens, you are on your own. We have no advice.

Your other option is to make outrageous bets and hope you win. Actually, screw hope. Just cheat.

A method that works time and time again, but it isn't really suitable for everyone...is to have a talent. People like having talented people around them. Be funny. Be good looking (I know that isn't really a talent, but people like pretty people, too). Shit like that.

The more people want you around them, the more likely they are to purchase drinks on your behalf.

Another possibility that works as well for both women and men is to order a drink and while it is being poured, clearly and openly hold a $20 in your hand. The bartender will notice this and fall at ease. Once the drink is placed in front of you, point behind the bartender and scream "Hey, look! It's Jesus!" As the bartender turns his head, grab the drink and run like hell.

It works every time.

Thursday, April 20, 2006

Magazines That Weren't Successful

In the publishing world, many new magazines hit the stand only to quickly fade away without leaving their mark. For every success story, there are many notable failures. The following are a few examples of poorly thought out magazine ideas.

Hey, Fat Bastard!

In America, ever since the late 70's people have been becoming more educated about health and better living. Hey, Fat Bastard! was created as a diet magazine for the morbidly obese. The magazine was never able to find a successful balance of attempting to be tongue in cheek while delivering serious advice about losing weight. After three poorly selling issues, the magazine faded into obscurity.

Fuck You! - The Magazine

Created to seize momentum during the "greed is good" late 1980's, this business magazine tried to wrestle sales from the more popular Forbes magazine. It failed. Miserably.

While the magazine itself was rather lackluster, the title alone kept it from being stocked in most bookstores and groceries.


Originally formulated to be a caucasion answer to Vibe magazine, the publisher quickly realized that most white people were happy enough just reading People or Newsweek. Three title changes (Cracker, Ofay, and Whitey) failed to ignite sales and it was quickly pulled from the market.

Knocked Up!

Designed to reach out to the ever growing population of single teenage mothers, this magazine was frankly a really bad idea.


While Highlights has always had a very large chunk of the early-childhood-development market, this magazine was designed for the developmentally-challenged-of-any-age market. Clearly, the people behind this periodical were, themselves, more than a little developmentally disabled to use a title like the one emblazoned on the cover.


Hoping to tap into the lucrative market for low cost "generic" alternatives, this magazine was created. Unfortunately, it was so generic that each of the twenty-two pages of the magazine literally said "words. words. words. words." etc. Amazingly, this magazine lasted for two years. It is believed that most of the subscribers were big on irony.

Sunday, April 16, 2006

Man In The Street Interviews

Did you ever have a teacher who made you write the "if I could meet anyone from anytime in history, who would it be and why" essay?

Well, we here at BDF sent Stu, our "man on the street", to ask regular people who their answers might be to that hallowed query.

OK...actually, we don't really have a "man on the street". It isn't in our budget. But regardless, here is what Stu found.

Jim, a guy that Stu met at the bus stop said:

"Wilt Chamberlain. I figure if I tag one chick a day it would take about 30 years to do as many chicks as Wilt The Stilt did."

He further went on to wonder if there was ever a point that Wilt was just too chafed to go on screwing. Jim figured he could just spit on it and probably eke out a few more.

Bonnie, Stu's favorite waitress at the all-night diner, said:

"I'm gonna go with Doctor Scholl."

When pressed further, Bonnie wondered if the good Doctor was really interested in the podiatric interests of people everywhere or if he simply had a really virulent foot fetish.

T-Bone, a crackhead Stu met downtown, said:

"Richard Gere. I wanna ask that dude if he really put a gerbil in his ass. That shit's fucked up."

Stu agreed that it was fucked up, indeed. At this juncture, Mr. Bone questioned what kind of lubrication one might use for something like that. He also wanted to know "what Debra Winger is really like. She and Richard Gere were in that movie with the dude from Enemy Mine but he didn't have a fucked up face in this movie. I think it was the Navy thing or something."

Jack, one of Stu's drinking acquaintances, said:

"Hemingway. Definitely Hemingway. I'd like to arm wrestle him."

At this point, Stu and Jack arm wrestled. Stu claims he won. We don't believe him.

Stu, himself, chose two people, Descartes and Freud.

Stu wondered if he really existed simply because he thought so, or if he was just a figment of Victoria's imagination.

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

How To Start A Cult

One way to make lots of friends and create a nice sense of community is to join a cult. And even better method is to form a cult. That way you get all the respect and loads more sex....'cause your the guy in charge and you make the rules. Win Win Win, baby.

First off, you are going to need a story of some kind. For instance:

We believe that alien overlords from another planet, called Bearth, in an alternate dimension came to Earth many millenia ago. Finding nothing but primates, they genetically modified a few using their vast knowledge of science. Those primates grew to become humans.

Never underestimate the power of fear in keeping your followers in line:

In the future, the alien overlords will return and enslave all humans. We Bearthians, hope that by following our chosen path, we can please the alien overlords and when the horde returns, we will be placed in a position roughly akin to middle management. It beats being a basic slave, you know?

It is always good to have a nice visual aide for your pamphlets, too.

At this point, you should probably have some kind of code of conduct complete with strange rituals and bizarre rules.

Bearthians believe that the alien overlords have been surruptitiously communicating with the chosen few via episodes of Beavis and Butthead. We study the DVDs like scripture for clues.

Bearthians have a vehement hatred for the Sammy Hagar incarnation of Van Halen as well as the Salvation Army. Also, we believe that vodka a special elixer given to us by the alien overlords. All other booze is what happens when monkeys try to make vodka.

All beef/chicken/pork should only be eaten from the left side of the animal. The animal's left, not yours when you are looking at it. This has caused many problems in the past.

No country music can be listened to on Tuesdays.

Let no man wear fuscha...ever.

We believe that Roddy McDowell was pretty cool because he played a lot of neat apes in the Planet of the Apes series, both film and television. Additionally, "Dr. Zauis" is considered a swear word to Bearthians. A very serious one.

Soup sucks. It is the work of the unspoken of beast from Glaxian 4. A good hearty chili, however, is more than acceptable. It is believed to assist in releasing evil spirits from the colon.

Having set forth your rules and carefully crafted your cult origin story, now you can sit back and let the sex roll in. It is usually a good idea to incorporate orgies as some kind of ritual in your cult.

As the founder and most high important person, it's usually a good idea to give yourself a really cool title. Like Grand Exalted Ass-Kicker or High Priest Of Spanktastic Mojo. Something like that.

Side note: It isn't really a good idea to use Kool-Aid in your cult. That move got out of hand once.

Obviously, these are just some examples that we have provided. Feel free to use some, discard others, or completely make up your own. Remember, the stranger they are the better because regular people will treat cult members like idiots which will help keep your members insular and easier to control.

As a final thought, if you find that your cult starts to go sour, quickly turn it into a death cult. Just get everyone to commit mass suicide and then get the fuck out of there.

Friday, April 7, 2006

The Blog Of A Serial Killer

It seems that everyone has a blog these days. No matter one's profession, people seem to enjoy just pontificating about their day online.

The following are some excerpts from a blog.

2/12/2006 2:12 p.m.

OK. Has this ever happened to any of you guys?

When I got up this morning, I found myself covered in blood. After a quick investigation, I discovered that I wasn't wounded in any way and it wasn't my blood.

How much did I have to drink last night? I hope I had a good time! LOL!

2/14/2006 3:17 p.m.

I am just plain having one of those days. I could really use some coffee.

When I left my apartment today, the neighbor's dog was taking a big shit right in front of my door. Not only that, but the dog told me I needed to kill seven virgins.

Where the hell am I going to find seven virgins?

2/22/2006 5:22 p.m.

I'm thinking about getting a roommate to help me deal with the bills. My electric and water bills have gone through the roof lately due to the amound of laundry I have had to do. Seriously.

I interviewed three potential people. Doug seemed nice at first, but after twenty minutes of pleasant chat I suddenly had an overwhelming desire to throttle him and stuff his lifeless corpse into the bathroom closet. I was about to when the doorbell rang. Guess who it was? Fucking Jehova's Witnesses!

Anyone who reads this regularly will know how I feel about Jehova's Witnesses. So...yeah...I killed the Witness and then went back inside to finish what I was going to do before I was rudely interrupted. So, it looks like it won't be Doug.

Steve wasn't too bad at first, but after awhile he mentioned that he is a huge fan of Oasis. I should have said he was a huge fan of Oasis...I mean, clearly I had to kill him. Oasis? WTF?

So by process of elimination, it looks like my new roommate will be Dennis.

Wish me luck!

2/23/2006 1:32 a.m.

OK. Dennis didn't work out.

2/24/2006 3:15 a.m.

If anyone knows how to clean bloodstains from linoleum, please leave a comment.

Also, I heard an Oasis song on the radio that I actually kind of liked. I'm thinking I may have been too hasty with Steve. Whoops!

2/25/2005 3:29 a.m.

So when I went through all the stuff that Dennis brought with him, I found a badge. When we first talked he said he was a cop but I assumed he was joking.

I may be screwed.

3/2/2006 3:38 a.m.

OK. It looks like I am not going to be near a computer for a little while. Feel free to leave any comments and I will check them whenever I can.

Gotta run.

Is Canada cold this time of year?

Wish me luck!

Thursday, April 6, 2006

15 Forgotten Country Songs

1. I don't want her, you can have her, she's too fat for me

2. My dog was a bastard anyway

3. My wife is a whore, but I work for Microsoft...so fuck her.

4. My heart was broken like a John Deere axle

5. You can keep my wife, but please give me back my horse

6. I rode my horse, my brother rode my wife

7. I have a saddle sore that I call my boss

8. I'm gonna fuck that cute ranch-hand

9. Did you leave me 'cause my hair wasn't big enough?

10. She said my dick wasn't big enough, but my hound likes it

11. I'm gonna buy some new boots and an old hooker

12. Everytime she won't swallow, I die a little inside

13. My feet won't fill my Daddy's boots

14. Her thighs are like hams...thankfully, I'm not a Jew

15. Three more drinks and I think I can do it in her pooper...plus, my dog died

Monday, April 3, 2006

My Favorite Bible Story

A sweet piece of biblical writing from our little pal Timmy Smith.

Ode To My Girl Scout Cookies

Little girl in green
Please come over here
You have something with you
Something I hold dear

Chocolate and mint
Or even shortbread
Every Feb. through April
Those brats screw with your head

First they're on order
Finally they arrive
Oh, those sweet cookies
Make you glad you're alive

Then you run out
And you're craving more
So quickly you drive
To the grocery store

You hope that they are there
With the table outside
When you and some shopper
Accidentally collide

And when you recover
From your little crash
To the green bannered table
You make a hasty dash

You smile oh so sweetly
And ask the girl with green socks
she says, "No, Ma'am, I'm so sorry"
Someone else got the last box

You look across the lot
To see your foe with the cart
And run after her yelling
"Bitch! I want those cookies!"

Sunday, April 2, 2006

Even More Little Known Quotes

Yet another Big Damn Installment of some little known quotes throughout history.

Incidentally, everything that follows is complete bullshit.

"You want me to paint the ceiling? How about a nice mural on one of those big ass walls? No? OK. You're the boss."
- Michelangelo (March 1508)

"What do you think about purple? I look good in dark colors. Hell, I could be called something cool like The Dude In Purple. How does that sound?"
- Johnny Cash (November 1954)

"So I'm writing this story, right? And the one guy in it is, like, the biggest bad ass...ever. But, and this is the cool thing, if you fuck up his ankle he dies. Isn't that awesomely ironic? This book is going to fucking rule!"
- Homer (February 847 B.C.)

"Camps? Like, we are going to feed them and give them activities and stuff? No? OK...I was confused for a moment there."
- Adolf Eichmann (Janurary 1942)

"Look. We've got guns and ponies and shit. We couldn't possibly lose. We'll be done by noon and then we will have a light lunch, OK?"
- George Armstrong Custer (June 1876)

"Hey, sometimes change is a good thing. Let's give this bad boy a whirl and see what happens."
- Coca-Cola CEO Roberto Goizueta (January 1985)

"If you seriously expect me to marry your dumb ass, you are going to have to do something really impressive. Like...I don't know...hijack a plane and steal $200,000."
- The future wife of D.B. Cooper (November 1971)

"Damn! That chick has summer teeth. Get it? Summer teeth? Fuck. I am surrounded by idiots."
- Abraham Lincoln (March 1863)

"Man...that is a mighty fine looking big wooden horse. Wheel it into the city and let's all get drunk and forget about it!"
- A really dumb Trojan (1200 B.C.)

"Fucking critics! I'm just going to paint everything in blue for the next...say...three years. That ought to show them!"
- Pablo Picasso (1901)

"Look, man...normally I try to keep my cool, but you are seriously pissing me off!"
- Mohandas K. Gandhi [to Lord Willingdon] (1931)

"Why do I always have to get the check? Man...I swear...if you guys keep treating me like this..."
- Judas Iscariot (March 28 A.D.)

"OK. Now that we have wrapped that whole thing up...who wants to play mah-jong?"
- Genghis Khan (April 1206)

"Can't it go any deeper? Why don't you...I don't know...swallow the damn thing?"
- The first guy lucky enough to get deep throated (date unknown)

More Big Damn History

As an addendum to an earlier article, we illustrate more instances of history being a curious thing.

What is now known as "The War of The Roses" has been wildly misinterpreted over time. It really had little to do with the ascendancy to the English throne. In truth, it had much more humble beginnings.

Many years ago (not too many to count, I just don't feel like looking this stuff up) there were two cousins, both of whom were related to the English king. Which would make sense, as they were both related to each other. William and Robert (as those were their names) lived far north of London in a little town called North-Upon-Not-Quite-Londontown.

Having very little to do in such a small town, the cousins harnessed their passion for style and decoration and became wedding planners. Possibly the first such in history. There may have been earlier wedding planners from the ancient Mesopotamian era, but I'm too lazy to look that up, too.

With their grace and skill, the two soon became well known and in great demand for their abilities to make any wedding into an event. For many years, things went well between the two...until one fateful day.

Asked to plan the wedding of Lady Helga to Count Ruprecht of some little known Germanic country, the two were suddenly at odds with each other. William strenuously desired red roses for this soiree, whilst Robert had his heart set on white roses.

A duel was fought. This was declared a tie. A match of pugilism was then arranged. This, too, was a tie.

While they continued fighting, Lady Helga decided to take her business elsewhere (and incidentally chose tiger lilies in lieu of any shade of roses). This served to further anger the two as they blamed each other for losing such a high profile job.

One thing led to another. Somehow some Yorks and Lancasters got involved. Many people died.

And that's how the Tudor monarchy came to pass.

Much about the true intricacies of the Boston Massacre have been overlooked throughout history.

It appears to have begun when a wigmaker's apprentice named Edward Garrick made an unwise remark. He called out to a British Officer, by the name of Captain John Goldfinch, and made a statement to the effect that Goldfinch had an outstanding debt for a barber's bill.

Goldfinch had, in fact, actually paid his bill and was offended that such a callous youth would draw him out like that in public. Shooting Garrick the bird, he stated "I've paid it, bitch, leave me be."

This, of course, embarrassed and angered Garrick who went on to insult Goldfinch and made reference to his mother in an unseemly fashion.

Private Hugh White called to the boy and upon Garrick nearing him, White beat him roundly around the head and ass regions.

Garrick's companions began throwing snowballs and hurling epithets such as "eat my ass" and "your mother sucks cock". This simply infuriated the British.

As the mob grew, the British began shooting.

Eventually, America kicked the shit out of Britain and now we have NASCAR.

In further installments of this series, we will examine many more unknown truths like how a three-legged man with a bifurcated penis was single handedly responsible for starting the Hundred Years War and the true nature of that rapscallion Cardinal Richelieu and his strange experiments with time travel.

Saturday, April 1, 2006

The Future Scares Me

The future is a scary thing. While the idea of flying cars and time machines may seem cool, there is also a darker side to what the future holds.

What if some of the old Sci-Fi movies are correct? Do we really want to deal with jibungous radioactive beasts? Seriously. Those things can decimate a Japanese city in mere minutes. If that happens, who is going to be around to create my Playstation 8? The thought of a Playstation-free future often has me waking up in a cold sweat.

Are we anywhere near being prepared for the return of Zombie McQueen? This is not just an American problem, it is a worldwide problem. At this juncture, we have no known technology that could stop his rampage.

Senior citizens often dress in the styles of their youth...not so much what is current. I cringe at the thought of senior citizens with their pants hanging down below their asses. I don't need to see nine exposed inches of old man boxers. Nor do I care do hear an AARP member talking about "getting all up in the hizzouse."

How about the impending Giant Robot invasion? These things are immense and what with the laser beam eyes and shit, they can really mess a joint up.

Worldwide war is always a threat and with suicide bombers and various nuclear weapons, things could get a little hectic. Not to mention how much it is going to suck when the simian armies rise up and overthrow the humans. Damn dirty apes.

But I guess what really scares me is the fact that I am married. I have to deal with the same woman for the rest of my life. Forever.

Forever is a really long time.

Don't get me wrong, I love my wife. I'm not talking about not being able to sleep with other women. I'm not talking about how I have to watch her favorite movies for the rest of my life.

I can deal with that stuff. I love my wife. A shitload...but when everything starts going haywire...well, I don't think she can fend for herself. Which means I have to do it.

I'm going to have to turn back and rescue her from the angry simian horde. I'm going to have to go for some commando action, dodging laser beams and shit, to save her from the giant robots. It's going to be me who has to fight radioactive mutant beasts to save my lovely wife from harm.

And, I gotta tell you. I'm pretty lazy.

I don't think I'm cut out for all that hero stuff.

The future scares me, but basically I think my wife is screwed.

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