Don't Put Your Dick In The Window Fan

Don't Put Your Dick In The Window Fan
Written by Ryan Fan Club

Don't put your dick in the window fan
Never put your nards under a moving van
Hey buddy, man, I think we can agree
An electric gloryhole just ain't the place to be
If you stick it in a wall
Or a pane of broken glass
You'll discover mauve connect-the-dots
On the greasy crease of ass
Like chlamydia from Lydia
Or gonorrhea from Miss Rhea
The doctor says, "It's your own fault"
And he's never gonna see ya

Don't put your dick in the window fan
Your schlong don't belong in a frying pan
Hey buddy, dude, I think you can attest
That a tissue substitutes for a double-dee chest
If you use a grocery bag
Then there's no real chance for danger
Or sit a bit on right or lefty
And pretend that it's a stranger
Like a red badge on a pink vadge
Or a silver silly willy
The nurse, she looks and smiles and laughs
While you just claim it's chilly

Don't put your dick in the window fan
You can't put your cock in a rusty tin can
Hey buddy, guy, you surely best believe
It won't feel a thing like her wide-end receive
If you can't shake your spear
With the likes of Horatio
You shouldn't spend your lonely nights
Watching point-of-view fellatio
Like a casting couch slouch
Or a video voyeur toyer
The other patients get in first
While you wait on hold for a lawyer

Thanks for reading!
- ryan

I'm Not Ashamed I Read...Y'Know

Back in "the day" (as many seem to call it), I used to go for long, random walks with my buddy Riot. There was never a destination planned, and we were happy so long as there was plenty of hot chicks to look at along the way.  Throw in some McDonald's milkshakes and 7-11 Hot Dogs and we were ecstatic.

Those hot dogs will fuck you up.

Long story short, we always managed to stumble upon a little game of ours called "I'm Not Ashamed I Read Porn." The idea was simple: all one had to do to play along was finish that sentence.

"I'm not ashamed I read porn, I'm just ashamed that I can't actually read.".
"I'm not ashamed I read porn, I'm just ashamed it's the Rosie O'Donnell Collector's Edition".
"I'm not ashamed I read porn, I'm just ashamed that I saw my sister in one".
"I'm not ashamed I read porn, I'm just ashamed that I borrowed it from the public library."
"I'm not ashamed I read porn, but the lovely wife thinks I'm slightly obsessed with Lexi Belle."

And so on. And so on.


But the real question is: Should ANYONE actually be ashamed to read porn? Or even just look at the pictures? The Adult Industry has become more widely accepted among the general public over the past ten years. Names like Jenna Jameson and Ron Jeremy have become as common as Tom Cruise and Julia Roberts. Most of today's music videos are only two steps away from being porn. Don't get me wrong, I sit and stare at the "Umber-ella, ella, ella, eh eh eh" video and won't turn away even if the fucking house is on fire. Most of these pop princesses can shake n' move better than half the porn queens. And really, when you compare someone like Britney Spears to someone like Briana Banks, it's hard to tell who is actually faking it more. Lip syncing at concerts just blows... and hey, so do most porn stars!

Let's get one thing straight once and for all: Playboy Magazine is NOT pornography. It's not exactly a Disney sing-a-long either, but there is really nothing smut-like about Hef's mag. No, no, porn requires penetration. And sometimes double. And while it may not float your boat, it sure is floating someone's boat.  People aren't hiding their secret desires as much as they used to.  They just aren't insecure about them anymore.  Is the internet to thank or blame for that?  I dunno, I'm not about to become an expert on what your secret fantasies are.


(Can you tell which one is Britney and which one is Briana? I'll take either... or both!)
Pornography has broken off into so many different facets that it's "hard" to decide what you're going to look at. There's boy-girl, girl-girl, threesome, gangbang, milf, tranny, pregnant, teen, bukkake, and pretty much anything you could imagine that involves stuffing something into an orifice.  A Heineken bottle, maybe?

The recent "rise" of the porn phenomenon is mostly due to the internet, of course. These days you don't have to go to the other side of town and find a convenience store where nobody speaks English just to buy a porn mag secretly. Chances are you were looking at porn online earlier today. That's the difference between today and twenty years ago. Twenty years ago people would wake up, make coffee, and read the paper. Today, people wake up, make their coffee, and then sit in front of their computer and watch people fuck each other. Progress?

There's not much in my local newspaper anymore anyway.  What about yours?

So you really shouldn't be ashamed that you read porn... assuming that you actually fucking read it. I'm not ashamed that I read porn. But I am a little ashamed that I felt the need to write an article about justifying it. 

Reasons You Shouldn't Be Ashamed To Look At Porn:
1. It's way more common than you think. It's not just an industry for men anymore.
2. It's educational. You can learn new tricks and positions to try with your partner.
3. It's a fantastic stress reliever.
4. You're going to go blind someday anyway.

Thanks for reading!

- ryan

Wrestlemania

My daughter was born on April 1st, and undoubtedly I'd like to think of that as the happiest day of my life.

But long before I had a daughter, April 1st was very special to me because it was the day my dad took me to Wrestlemania VI in Toronto to see The Ultimate Warrior do battle with Hulk Hogan for the WWF Championship.

In 1990 I was a huge WWF fan.  I mean, I ate, slept, and breathed wrestling.  My favorites were The Ultimate Warrior, Bret "Hitman" Hart, and Macho Man (even though he was a villain at this time known as the Macho King).

The morning of April 1st, my dad woke me up early to let me know that Wrestlemania had been cancelled.  I only fell for it for a second or two and then realized it was April Fool's Day.  Nice try dad.

I'm actually surprised by how much I remember about being at Wrestlemania VI.  It was over twenty-five years ago.  I was only nine years old.

Me at the mall with my mother; notice my awesome Ultimate Warrior shirt?  Please don't notice my awful track pants.

 Down the road from the Skydome was a large wrestling ring built by Campbell's soup, and they had some wrestlers doing their thing while free cans of Campbell's soup were being given out.  I declined the free can of soup, mostly because I didn't want to have to carry it around Toronto with me all day.

While waiting outside the Skydome to get in, some pervy old man was talking about Miss Elizabeth and how if he had the chance he would tongue paint her.  I'd like to think that's when and where I learned what cunningulus is.  Thank you, creepy pervy guy outside the Skydome.

Inside, we sat in front of this crazy wrestling fan.  She was old, missing some teeth, and had one of those large foam Hulk Hogan fingers.  When she found out I was cheering for The Ultimate Warrior to defeat the Hulkster, the fucking crazy bitch actually hit me with her foam finger. 

I remember being very excited to see Robert Goulet sing "O Canada".  I had seen Beetlejuice a few times by this point in my life, and Robert Goulet was pretty cool in it.  Before he sang the anthem, and the event began there was something called a "Dark Match", which is basically a wrestling match to warm the crowd up a bit before the televised event begins.  I was surprised and disappointed when I got a VHS tape of Wrestlemania VI months later that the match between Paul Roma and the Brooklyn Brawler wasn't on it.

I was very excited when Andre The Giant smacked around Bobby "The Brain" Heenan.  I really only knew Andre as a heel in the world of wrestling, having only been a fan since WM3, and everyone knew he wouldn't be around much longer, so it was really awesome to be able to say I was there to see his redemption in front of his fans.

I still have my ticket stub from Wrestlemania VI

From where we were sitting, the ring looked pretty small.  Our $75 tickets had us about halfway up.  Apparently ringside seats were in the $150 range.  Luckily, we had a great view of the large screen in the Skydome.  So we were able to see everything being broadcast over pay-per-view, even if we couldn't hear the incredible Jesse "The Body" Ventura speak.  So we were able to see some of the important details.  I was ecstatic to see Miss Elizabeth, and half wondered if that guy from outside the Skydome would get his chance to tongue paint her.  Unfortunately she was there for Dusty Rhodes, and not the Macho King.

But let's face it.  Everyone was there to see the Hogan/Warrior match.  And as soon as the Warrior pinned Hogan for both the WWF Championship and the Intercontinental belt, we were out of our seats and on our way out of the building.  My dad wanted to beat the traffic and not get stuck in any kind of mob.  He was always like that, even at hockey games we went to locally.  So I never got the opportunity to tell that crazy bitch with the foam finger that she could suck a male camel's dick.

As we went back to catch our bus home, I saw a man make fun of a midget.  That was sad and uncomfortable.  She was a midget.  Big deal.  And he was all like, "Hey everyone!  Look at the midget!"  Then we passed by a homeless guy asking for change, and I kind of wish I would have taken that free can of Campbell's soup.  I could have given it to him.  And he could have traded it for crack.  Not much crack, but probably a little fix.  I'm not really an expert in crack value.

Wow, I'm way off topic.

This was pretty much my view.

Wrestlemania VI had a lasting impression on me.  I must have watched the VHS a hundred times.  I proudly wore my Ultimate Challenge shirt and ball cap everywhere.  I even made friends at the mall with an older man because of it.  No, this is nothing weird, he saw me with my mom and I was wearing my shirt and he was getting his photos from Wrestlemania VI developed there.  So we hung out with him so I could see his pictures.

To this day, I still get excited to talk about being there.  Whenever I get talking about wrestling with someone they look at me in awe when I say I was at Wrestlemania VI.  It's fondly remembered by everyone.

Sadly, Miss Elizabeth passed away a few years back.  I wonder if that pervy guy ever got to tongue paint her.  I mean, it's always nice to hear of people's dreams coming true.

Thanks for reading!
- ryan

Me, in 1990 wearing my Bret The Hitman tank top and trying to do the Ravishing Rick Rude hip swing.

The Vasectomy

me, pre-vasectomy

You know, I wasn't going to write about this.  But then a couple of people pointed out how much they enjoyed my blog post about The Inside-Outside Penis Fiasco, and thought I should really over-share about my vasectomy experience too.

So I guess you can consider yourselves lucky, maybe, that's up to you, that here we are again talking about my junk and the trauma it has been put through.  Why you enjoy this kinda shit is beyond me, but if having my penis on your mind is the only way to have it somehow inside of you then I guess a blog post will have to do.

I decided last summer that I wanted a vasectomy.  I have two wonderful children - they're smart, beautiful, funny, creative, and loving.  They're also expensive, loud, and in serious need of finding the means to earn their own keep.  I love them so much that I couldn't imagine having any more.

Plus, after talking it over with a good friend of mine who had already gone under the blade, I learned that I would get a free shave of my manly area.  Fellas, if you aren't already keeping that area neat n' tidy, you really should.  If you're expecting a girl to put her face down there, it's just the polite thing to do.

But I digress.

I really had no idea what I was doing.  I thought getting a vasectomy would be a simple nut job - in and out, so I went to see my family doctor.  She had to make me an appointment with a specialist.  She didn't even want to see my penis and testicles.  Trust me, I asked.  I had given my balls a good clean shave to be prepared (and by the way, I wholeheartedly recommend the Intuition razor for such a job.  You may feel silly going to the drug store to purchase a lady razor, but when it comes to your balls, it's the best, smoothest, safest feeling shave you'll ever have.  They didn't pay me to say this, but if they need a dude to endorse their product to other men, I'd do it for them).

So a few weeks later I went to see the specialist.  Again, I shaved up nice and good.  My thinking on this was pretty simple - even though I had been told I'd get a free shave anyway, I wanted to be a gentleman about it.  If you were having a first meeting with a new lady friend, or a job interview, you'd clean yourself up in an appropriate manner.  The first time my balls are going to meet someone new, they're going to be shaved.  Simple as that.

Well, unless I was really drunk.

Anyway, this trip to the Vasectomy Specialist was pretty uneventful.  There were no sharp objects in the room, no plans to do any slicing and dicing, and he didn't want to see my penis either.  As it turned out, this was just a consultation.  It was more like an interview than anything.

me, the morning of the vasectomy

"So I hear you want to have a vasectomy."
"Yeah.  I hear they're all the rage."
"Do you have kids already?"
"I have two. A beautiful girl and a wonderful boy."
"Makes sense to me, let's cut you up."

He drew me a little diagram to show me what he was going to do.  It was both technical and rudimentary at the same time.  It wasn't to scale.  It was done on scrap paper.  It wasn't even done with a nice mechanical pencil or calligraphy pen.  The diagram Chris Morris gave me of the clitoris in 1998 was a more professional work than the diagram of my testicles.

"Sorry, I'm not much of an artist."
"I am.  I once drew my penis for a triage nurse."
"Really?"
"Yeah, it turned inside-out once."
".....Oh."

 We shook hands and I left the consultation.  I'm happy to say the doctor had a good, strong handshake.  It made me feel good about the fact that he'd be holding sharp knives and blades around my little buddy.  I was actually a little disappointed with the consultation, simply because I thought I'd be getting the operation right there and then.  I went home empty handed.  But still full-balled.

My actual operation was then scheduled to be in another three months or so.

It's like they were giving me plenty of time to change my mind.  Like, maybe over the Christmas holidays I'd decide that I wanted to father another ten or twelve kids over the next three years.    Or maybe it was just a jerk thing to do.  Because we all know that during those three months I'd likely have sex approximately three times with The Lovely Wife.  Those of you who are married will understand the math there.  Those of you not married - don't get married.  Don't bother doing the math, just don't get married.

Finally, the day came.  I had been trying for the days leading up to it to get some action from The Lovely Wife, thinking I could give her a little going away present.  It was very genuine and thoughtful, offering to give her something she would never be able to have again.  She politely declined for womanly reasons.  I argued that just because the monkey had a bloody nose didn't mean the circus wasn't in town.

No dice.

My father took me for surgery.  It was pretty cool to have him there.  It was like a royal funeral or something.  I'm the only male in my family to have produced a boy offspring, so because of me my family name will continue.  The trumpets blared as we said good-bye to my sperm.  Okay, it was nothing like that.  But it would've been cool if it was.

Actually, there was another D-list celebrity just like me waiting there to get a vasectomy.  I'm not going to name names because his business is his business, but it was pretty cool to know that we sorta had each others' backs.  When I mentioned this to The Lovely Wife she said, "if he's a D-list celebrity, then you must be an X-list celebrity."  I'd like to think she meant that I'd be a great porno star if I put my mind to it.

The doctor and nurse were finally ready to see my penis, and the accompanying testicles.  It's sort of a two-for-one deal, you know.  Naturally, I kept everything neat and tidy down there for them.  Respect, I tell you, respect.

The pain of the operation was... well, my testicles were invaded by complete strangers and they put clamps down inside to stop any sperm from going the distance.  Yeah, it hurt, but I'm not going to sit here and make an allegory for it.  Use your imagination.  It fucking hurt.  Luckily, I had just the right amount of freezing, a nurse from another area of the hospital who didn't normally do vasectomies, and one of my favorite Aerosmith songs on the radio to help distract me from the pain.

One thing that surprised me though, was that nobody asked me to leave a sample of my perfectly good sperm.  I always thought they kept a sample of it just in case.  Not in case I ever want to have a baby, but in case I lose a finger or something and they need some of my DNA to grow a new one.  Or if, like, Taylor Swift wants to be artificially inseminated.  My sperm would have totally been there for her.  But nope, they didn't ask for one.  And believe it or not, that kind of made me sad.  It had always been a dream of mine to have a pretty nurse ask me to jerk off for her.

They cleaned up some blood and told me to get dressed because they were done looking at my penis.  They recommended using a bag of frozen peas to deal with the swelling, and gave me some Tylenol-3s to deal with any pain.  I didn't actually use the pills.  I think I'll save them for something more painful, like if Scott Bryan ever figures out a way to defeat me in Monopoly.

this was actually a pretty decent read.

As I was leaving, the nurse handed me a little doggy-bag sort of thing with a lovely brochure entitled, "After Your Vasectomy".  The title seemed a little personal. Was everyone getting the same brochure about MY vasectomy?  She also sent me home with a little cup and bio hazard bag for me to bring back a sample of my semen after three months.  Awwwww yeah, she wanted me to jerk off after all.

Did you know that after a vasectomy you can still knock a girl up for up to three months?  That's right, folks.  I've insisted upon the slogan of, "up the bum - no babies" and The Lovely Wife keeps insisting that she's really tired and has been working a lot of late nights.

Recovering from a vasectomy is different for everyone.  Some people actually go back to work that day.  Some people take a few days.  I asked the doctor how long I should wait until I had hanky-panky again.  And yes, I referred to it as "hanky-panky".  After giving me the speech about the three month wait, I assured him I just wanted to make sure I didn't break anything.  "Wait a week or so," he said.  "You won't want to do anything with that for a few days."

I didn't know what he meant until day four of recovery.  Recovery for me was pretty good.  The pain was gone by day two, the swelling only lasted the first day, and I have a whole bag of frozen peas in the freezer that I can either use for a Sheppard's Pie or hold on to for the next time I have a vasectomy.  The bruising, however, took me by surprise.  The doctor wasn't kidding about not wanting to do anything for a few days.  My junk was so bruised up that it pretty much retreated back to basic training.  On day four, I woke up - typically - with morning wood.  No big deal.  Ask any guy, it's pretty much a daily occurrence.

not actually my penis

But I decided to take a look down there, knowing full well that I was bruised up pretty good.  I knew my dick would look like it had taken a beating, and not the type of beating you'd want your dick to take, but I wasn't prepared to look down there and see Two-Face from the Batman comics.  One side of the dick was totally normal, and the other side was bruised and purple and flipping a coin.

Two weeks passed, and I was all healed up.  I was happy.  Happy because I knew I wasn't about to have any more children.  Then The Lovely Wife started oddly craving Pepsi and puked her guts out with a sickness in the early morning.  As I brought her up a glass of water, she looked up at me as if to say, "uh-fucking-oh."

The Clear Blue pregnancy test came back as "Not Pregnant", which was great because:
A) we definitely weren't having more kids
B) I didn't have to throw my back out by throwing her down the stairs
C) I'm not a big fan of irony
D) all of the above

I was so excited that I almost went out and bought her a cake with "Congrats You're Not Pregnant" on it.

Thanks for reading.  I'm going to end today's blog post with a little Improexophonophelia.

vasectomy

by ryan matthew ewing

vasectomy, vasectomy, vasectomy

free health care, free health care, free health care

vasectomy, vasectomy, Vasectomy

one vasectomy is still cheaper than ten abortions

vasectomy

me, post-vasectomy

This Bag Is Not A Toy?

This bag is not a toy.
The hell it ain't!

Maybe Mr. Director of Child Health and Safety at the production plant just has no imagination.  This bag can clearly be a toy.

I don't know about you, but I don't really like being told what I can and can't do with the leftover packaging that my consumables come in.  I don't even remember what I bought that came in this baggy, but fuck them for thinking that I can't use this as a toy.  And hey, if I suffocate on it, or somehow get myself stuck in it and fall into a river and drown, then it's my own goddamn fault for being an idiot.  Or maybe my parents for not paying proper attention to what I play with.

What's this, you ask?  A Monopoly board?  Uh-oh!  Looks like I've landed on Pennsylvania Ave. and it has a hotel!  I hope I have enough cash to cover the debt.  Maybe I'll get lucky and the puppy dog will land on Baltic Ave. after it passes "GO".  I have a house on that cheap purple piece of shit.  Oh, and I don't know if the ship knows this or not, but if it rolls a perfect four it will land on Free Parking.  Check the rule book folks, there's no free money for Free Parking.  Stop twisting this beautiful game around to meet your own needs.
(Fun fact - I always use the Iron when I play Monopoly)

Luke Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi and in their Landspeeder here, heading to the Mos Eisley Cantina.  It seems as though little whiny Luke here just lost his Aunt and Uncle in a terrible fire, so he's running away to some planet called Alderaan to find a Princess.  I hope there's enough fuel in this speeder to get him to Mos Eisley so he can find a pilot!

 

If you're like me and you've already beaten all the Super Mario games, why not try some of these lost levels?  Just like any other classic NES game, you've gotta blow inside it first to get it to work - but don't blow too hard!  You might pop your game and then you've gotta ask your mom and dad to buy you a new one.  Now I'm playing with plastic bag power!

 

Look everyone!  It's Mr. Baggy-O-Head!  Are you lonely and in need of a friend?  Just stick some eyes, arms, feet, and a tongue on to Mr. Baggy-O-Head and never be without a companion!  This one actually reminds me of an old Howie Mandel bit where he said, "when I was a kid we were poor, and instead of having a Mr. Potato Head my parents used to let me just stick shit to my grandmother's face."

So there you have it.

This bag is not a toy? Fuck you, you fucking fucks.

I'm sure there are many other ways to use this as a toy.  I just took some pictures of it with things in the Fan-Cave.

It could be a wrestling ring, or the secret hideout for Dr. Doom, or even the teapot at a tea party for stuffed animals.  

If you get really creative I'm sure you can figure out a way or two or three to use this as a sex toy.  If you do - by all means, send me those pictures.

The point is, don't let the corporations tell you how to use your imagination.  This bag could be the ultimate super computer if you want it to be.

Thanks for reading!
- ryan

Top 11 After Sex Comments

Let's get one thing straight: I'm not suggesting you say ANY of these phrases after sex. I just think it would be hella fun to try it. And on with the list!

11. Now that's what I call a vagina! High five!

10. Don't worry baby. You just lay there... I'll go get the shop-vac and clean this up.

9. Hmm... I dunno honey. It still felt the same even though I was thinking of Taylor Swift.

8. That was the slam-banginest, vadge-pumpingest, elbow-deepest, knob-polishingest, buttered-toastingest, root-tootin' screw-ride since Harry met Sally!

7. Alright, that'll be twenty bucks, baby.

6. I think I'm going to start investing in IBM again. I dunno, just seems like the right time.

5. You go ahead. I'm gonna lay here for a bit and reflect upon what we just did and try to rank it in some sort of Top 11 list... don't worry, I'm sure you'll land in the top three or four...

4. Again tomorrow? Same Bat-time! Same Bat-Channel!

3. Well what did you expect it to taste like? Pomegranate? Chicken Cordon Bleu? I friggin' ate Spaghetti-O's today!

2. You're so beautiful. You're smart, sexy, and you give 110% when you make sweet love to me. Your body is like an ocean being discovered for the first time. When you moan so passionately, I can see new constellations forming. When you climaxed, my heart skipped a beat. And that little half-smile you made... wow. The look in your eyes right now is just so satisfying. What time did you say your husband would be home?

1. I think your poster of Justin Bieber is staring at me.

Thanks for reading!
- ryan

Boobies!

Yes, you clicked the right link today.

Basically today we'll be taking a look at two of my favorite things on this planet. Namely, boobies. If you wanna just call them "boobs" that's fine too. Whatever makes you happy. Just be sure that when you're in the company of boobies, you're happy. Nothing brings a smile to a guy's face (and some girls too.. the one's that are awesome) quite like breasts. So let us squeeze out a little history, cup on to some notions, and bounce around some thoughts that will ultimately go round and round your head all day.

Oh, and by the way, could you make a little eye contact please? 

Part 1. The History of Boobies
Boobies were created at the dawn of time when some God-person first created man. This is absolutley true no matter what faith or religion you follow. Before Adam and Eve were ever molded Goddius Maximus made a scientist out of Lego named Dr. Von Booblestein. He was lonely and removed his feet to create the very first set of boobies. Since Lego blocks were square and pointy, the first draft failed. They looked nothing like today's boobs at all.

Dr. Von Booblestein continued his work much through his later years and on his death bed he pronounced, "Should there ever be one to follow me on this great planet, than please let them be of the non-square-ish variety".

Booblestein's prayers were answered, and thus Adam was created. But he was lonely and wanted some boobies to look at, so a woman named Eve followed. You know the rest of the story. Adam stares at Eve's boobs and she realizes because of her boobies that she can make him do whatever she wants. She wanted an apple, yadda yadda, go read a book.

Boobies continued to be popular all thru history (except for during the Plague, cause they were all gross looking at that point) and continue to be very popular today. 

Part 2. Cleavage

What is it about Boobies that make us as men completely stunned and jaw-dropped? Well, to put it simply, They're Boobies. That is the only logical answer that could possibly exist.

There are many different types of boobies, which I will get into in a minute, but one thing is for certain: all of them look good when they're giving off cleavage. Cleavage is that one thing that women strive to achieve when putting on that tight shirt. Cleavage is that framed piece of artwork that makes men's eyes pop out of their heads... and their... no... I'm not gonna say it. Cleavage can be defined as A set of breasts that are pushed together with a bra to the point that they can hold a pencil between themselves. If the pencil falls, it ain't cleavage. 

Part 3. More Than A Handful
And that brings us to cup sizes. Some girls are not blessed with large boobies. That doesn't mean they're boobies are bad. No, not at all. Every woman has great boobies, and just because you can't get cleavage because you are "flat as a board" doesn't mean your boobs aren't great too. In fact, the A-Cup chest is a set of boobs with much to prove. Often overlooked by the dudes at the bar, you never know when these savages will escape their confines to poke someone's eye out. The next time you pass over a girl because she seems small-chested, just say to yourself, "Wait a sec... are they really missing, or are they just waiting for the opportune moment to strike?" Remember, no matter what, she has a nice set of personalities.

Some women have really large boobies and are constantly falling out of their shirts. There gets to a point where the boobs become too big and take on a life of their own. Fake boobs have a tendency of doing this to a person. One day a girl is just sitting there looking at her average boobs and says to herself "Wow, I have lots of student loan money left over... I should make my boobs bigger." Beware the risk of this. Fake boobs are a double-ended sword. They give pleasure to the eye, but they are really monsters inside that continue to grow and grow until the person has become nothing but breasts.

On the subject of different kinds boobs, some men have boobs too. They're called Man-Boobs. They're gross.

Moving on... 

Part 4. Famous Boobies
As a society, we are fascinated by boobies. Let's face it, when we were young we couldn't for the life of us figure out why our dads were listening to Dolly Parton records. Sure, 9 to 5 is a catchy enough tune, but it was her boobs that landed her that duet with Kenny Rogers, and it was her boobs that scored her that guest appearance on Alvin & The Chipmunks.

Take a look at Britney Spears. When she hit MTV with that video of her as a schoolgirl, she didn't really have any boobs. Then the next day, WHAMMO! She must've developed quickly or quickly spent the money she made off that first single. Sometimes I run. Sometimes I hide. Sometimes I get my boobs enlarged.

Lindsay Lohan (God Bless her boobs) had to have her boobies made digitally smaller when she did that Herbie movie. That just goes to show that we are all so infatuated with them as a whole that we'll do anything just to play with them. 

Step 5. Boobie Nicknames
No good guide to Boobies would be complete without a list of Nicknames for these wonderful creations. So feel free to start calling boobies these:

• Fun Bags
• Hooters
• Dirty Pillows
• Knockers
• Melons
• Titties
• Ta-tas
• Torpedos
• Jugs
• Merv Griffins
• Balloons
• Chesticles
• Gazongas
• Sweater Muffins

In case you thought this was going to be a nature blog about the Blue Footed Boobies of South America, here's a link that will give you some info about them.
http://gosouthamerica.about.com/cs/galapagosislands/l/blpixwildbooby.htm.

Goodnight! And thanks for reading!

- ryan

He-Man & She-Ra - Hot Incest Love?

On the planet Eternia, twins were born to the royal parents King Randor and Queen Marlena. Before the tots were old enough to stop sucking on Marlena's boobs and start eating mushed up peas they were separated. Princess Adora, the girl of the two, was kidnapped by the evil Hordak. He stole her and ran away to the planet Etheria, much like Michael Jackson would run away with a small child to Neverland. Except, of course, that Michael Jackson would've kidnapped Prince Adam.

Years passed, and we all know that when Prince Adam raises his mighty sword and says, "By The Power of Grayskull..." he becomes He-Man, the most powerful man in the universe. But for years, He-Man's twin sister was kept a secret from all of us. Then one day He-Man went on an adventurous quest to the planet Etheria and found his sister.

And she was a stone cold fox.

If you've never seen The Secret of The Sword (He-Man & She-Ra's feature film), I totally recommend it. It's basically an hour-and-a-half long episode of He-Man that reuses the same animation at least sixty times and has lots of background theme music that won't leave your head for weeks. He-Man (who doesn't actually know he has a sibling) is taken capture by Adora, who is working for the Evil Horde under the command of Hordak himself.

She chains up He-Man, who doesn't seem to mind the notion of being tied up by a leggy blonde all that much. He-Man pleads with Adora that she should stop being an evil bitch and start working for the good guys 'cause they kick ass. Well, except for that one guy Beau who is a big sissy.

After Adora has a bad dream, she discovers a sword just like He-Man's, and when she holds aloft her magic sword and says "For the honor of Grayskull...", then BAMMO! (Insert catchy music with a sing-a-long She-Ra, She-Ra)

This is where things get tricky. He-Man and She-Ra learn that they are in fact twins, but you can tell that He-Man still wouldn't mind sticking it in her. One of the first things they do as brother and sister is hug. Really close-like. Then they ride She-Ra's magical horse to save some dumb chick who couldn't help but get held captive so she could wait for a hero. He-Man insists on riding behind She-Ra on the horse, and while she probably feels some wiener rubbing at the back, the most powerful man in the universe is in perfect position to reach around and grab some animated Filmation boob.

Then there's more hugging. Seriously, these two hug almost as much as Danny Tanner. I don't know what things are like on Eternia and Etheria, but the only place I can think of on Earth that has as much brotherly-sisterly love is Napanee, Ontario. If you live in that town, chances are your nephew is your brother, who is also your cousin, who is also your grandma, who is Avril Lavigne.

After He-Man and She-Ra defeat Hordak, the movie ends and He-Man vows to make regular appearances on She-Ra's new show to help her sell more toys. And he does. About once every five episodes or so He-Man visits Etheria because he secretly is checking up on his sister to make sure she's not hooking up with that pansy-ass Beau. Here's a hint He-Man: Beau is clearly into dudes and is no threat to your incestuous rampage.

But is He-Man really interested in making the love to his own sister? Does he have urges to walk in on her getting out of the shower and using the "oops, didn't know anyone was here" excuse? There is no formal proof to suggest that the two have ever had 'sexual intercourse', let alone some simple spit-swapping. It's not like they have a little hero running around by the name of Kid-Child. I honestly don't think He-Man wants to shag his twin.

The reason?
He-Man is a huge Man-Whore!   

He-Man couldn't possibly have time to hook it up with his sister. Clearly he spends one-half hour of every day saving Eternia, and fifteen minutes of every day making a guest appearance to help save Etheria. When he's not being a super-hero, he's scoring with all kinds of ladies.

I've seen pictures of him flirting it up with Queen Bee, getting a kiss from Frosta, and carrying Teela off to the sunset. Even the most powerful man in the universe needs a break from pleasing the ladies.

But alas, He-Man has one true love. And that true love goes by the name of Skeletor. C'mon, he never once arrested the dude after trying to take over Eternia and Caslte Grayskull. He-Man lets Skeletor run loose to try again, and again, and again. That's because He-Man is in to the chase, and could never possibly commit himself to any one Princess of Power, or Master of the Universe.

Thanks for reading!
- ryan

2+2=5

2+2=5
Written by Ryan Matthew Ewing

Billy and Betty went to Vegas to get wed
Stopped at a diner and got a surprize instead
Betty let Billy fill up the gas
While inside, the diner checked out her ass
The waitress was Jane, neither tall nor plain
And the only cook in the kitchen went by the name o' Blaine
Betty got undressed by the eyes of the staff
Then she took a second glance for her better half
At first she was scared, but soon all was bared
Then in walked Billy, the pumping all done
And shocked he was to see Betty having fun
Blaine and Jane, the only ones at work
Shot Billy an inviting smirk
Four on the floor, and sometimes on the table
They'd split in twos and use the counter when able
Fill 'er up was the master plan
It was hotter and greasier than the frying pan
And so the tongue slips
The guys left their tips
Now they don't know what to do
One of the girls has a bastard baby due
Uhhh.... whoops.

Are Blonde Babes More Fun?

So this is what I hear: Blondes have more fun. But do they? And if so, why?
Of all the girls I've been with in my life, believe it or not, none of them were blonde. Sure, some of them have had blonde streaks in their hair, or had dyed their hair light enough brown that someone might say, "Oh, that's a blonde you're holding hands with there, buddy." But the great saying of blondes having more fun is definitely implying something to do with wicked, wild, super-awesome-funky sex.

I'm going to take a few minutes to examine some well-known blondes, past and present, and we'll see where that goes. If I can't come up with an answer then at least I've taken a moment out of both of our days to look at some very attractive women.

Case Study #1: Kelly Bundy

Many of us will remember Kelly Bundy as the first blonde in our lives. Married, With Children was THE show when were about ten years old and developing hormones. While we were all starting to realize just what boobies were and what kind of power they would hold on us over the remaining years of our lives, Kelly Bundy was flaunting it on TV. And she was always dressed for our eyes. Now I don't know what Christina Appelgate (the actress that played Kelly) is really like, so remember we're talking about Miss Bundy here. Not the actress. Kelly Bundy was a dirty slut. There's pretty much no way around saying that. And we all loved her for it. Actually, of all the three women on the show (Peg, her mother, and Marcy, their neighbor) Kelly was the only one to regularly get laid. Could that have been because Peg had red hair and Marcy had brown hair? Hmmmm....Kelly's character was also very stupid. Maybe her lack of insight is what made her have more fun. Or was she always just pretending to be stupid to be more attractive to the opposite sex? Guys have been known to go wild for the "dumb blonde" stereotype. I guess we may never know. Case Study #2: Kate Hudson

Of all the girls in Hollywood right now, I can't think of any cooler than Kate Hudson. Maybe it's because she seems to have inherited some of her mother's charm. With Goldie Hawn as her mommy, that's some cool charm to inherit. She was also married to the singer of the Black Crowes, so that right there means she knows how to have a good time. But is all of that enough to really suggest that she has more fun, or is it because she's blonde? In the movie How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days (aka chick flick disguised as a really fun movie even for guys) Hudson torments her new boyfriend and appears to have fun doing it until she realizes that she's really in love with him. She comes across as one of those cute, next-door-types that often end up with whatever guy they want in the palm of their hand. But do the cute/innocent blondes have more, you know, fun? In that movie Kate has a great little romp with her co-star in the bathroom, after the two of them are soaking wet from a rainy bike ride. It's really quite romantic, and not at all what you'd consider to be wild, so it's hard to say whether this blonde was more fun or not simply based on the color of her hair. Case Study #3: Gwen Stefani It's hard to tell if Miss Stefani is really blonde. I think in early photos of No Doubt she had darker blonde, possibly light brown hair. Around the late 90s she had pink hair in that one video, Simple Kind Of Life (In my opinion their best song, and the pink hair is damn cool too). But for the most part, we've always known Gwen to have that really cool platinum blonde look that only a few people can truly pull off without it looking fake and utterly retarded. Gwen is a mommy, which means she puts out. We all know I think pregnant chicks are hot (and if you didn't know, check out my song about it here, but whether or not "Pregnant Chicks Have More Fun" is not what we're here about today. Maybe some other day though.) In the No Doubt video for Underneath It All we see a very plain looking Stefani (sans dark make-up) in her PJs jumping up and down on her bed. I don't care what anyone says. That's super-hot. And whenever I'm watching it, no matter what else is happening in the world, it becomes my focus of attention. Hell, I could be on fire and it wouldn't matter. Case Study #4: Elisha Cuthbert Elisha is a hard case to examine for our topic. She may have played a porn-star turned nice girl in The Girl Next Door, but I remember her first as being the host of Popular Mechanics For Kids. So here's where the dilemma comes in, and it's a horribly wrong one. While watching The Girl Next Door I'd find myself thinking "Damn, she's awesome in this movie", only to stop myself and say "No! Remember that episode of P.M.F.K. where she helped blow up the building?" In the end I let my better judgement take over. I blocked Popular Mechanics For Kids from my mind until the movie was over. If any blonde on the planet is going to win over a case for whether or not they have more fun, it's Elisha. From the moment in The Girl Next Door when she said "What's the craziest thing you've done lately?" to the point in the movie where she skinny-dips, or goes to the Adult Video Awards, or... well, pretty much anything she does in this movie makes guys just go totally bonkers. And we have a bad habit of drooling by this point too. Score another one for the blondes. Oh, and Elisha is a good lead-in to our next case study... Case Study #5: Blonde Porn Stars I truly believe that the Internet was created for porn. If you've never seen porn on the internet you're a goddam liar. So don't even gimme any crap. The "Adult Video Star" showcased at left is Sunrise Adams. I believe she works for Vivid Films. I'm not 100% sure...she might be retired... you see, if I start researching that I'll become preoccupied and this article will never be finished. From my own experience with pornography ("reading" it, not performing in it) I would feel comfortable saying that 65% of porn stars are blonde. I think that's a fair estimate. Now I have never slept with a porn star, and I don't know anyone personally who has slept with a porn star, so whether or not they have more fun can really only be judged by their movies themselves. Are they acting? Are they only pretending to have more fun for the camera? Perhaps it's the real deal. When someone you sleep with climaxes you don't lean over and say "Baby, was that real, or were you faking?"

The same must be true for porn stars. We would never ask if they were faking their good time or not because it would simply ruin the fantasy for us all. So this one must be a numbers game. Do blonde porn stars have more fun because there are more of them in the business, so by logic, the more the merrier? Or are there just more blonde porn stars because there are more blondes in this world?


Let's create a math equation for this:
(#blondeB > 2 x #non-blondeB) / #blondePS = More Fun!

Case Study #6: Supergirl

Before you start accusing me of being a geek (which I am) for this one, it raises a great issue of the blonde/not blonde debate. Supergirl's secret identity is Linda Danvers. Linda is a brunette! Now this raises another interesting issue: Is Supergirl the real person pretending to be a brunette when she's Linda? Or is Linda the real person pretending to be a blonde when she's Supergirl? We've all seen girls around our hometowns that wear shirts that say "brunettes do it better" and "blondes have more fun", and most girls we know have changed their hair color more times than we've changed underwear. So is there an underlying desire for blondes to be brunettes and brunettes to be blondes? That could be the basis for a university student's thesis. I'm not going to try to find a solution on the internet. For the sake of time let's just say that Supergirl is too busy saving the world to find time for fun.

Case Study #7: Bea Fucking Arthur

I don't know if Bea Arthur was ever blonde or not. I really don't care. She was the hottest thing on this planet. She was the woman by which all other women should be judged. Blonde? Fuck it. Brunette? Who cares! Redhead? Yummy, but still... it doesn't matter. Bea Arthur? Fuck yeah! If Bea was a blonde she would have more fun. And in doing so, she would set the standard by what fun is for a blonde. When Bea Arthur watches paint dry it's the sexiest paint drying session ever. And all other blondes should follow suit and watch paint dry in the same way. Bea could find herself in a gangbang with thirty men and still find time to hit Betty White with a rolled up newspaper. Let's see a regular blonde do that.

The Verdict
So... do blondes have more fun? Umm... I don't know. Maybe.

In the end I have not come to a clear decision. The only way to truly come to an understanding would be to do some extensive, "fun" research with a collection of blonde volunteers. Don't worry, The Lovely Wife (who isn't a blonde, FYI) says it's okay for me to do all the research needed.

Thanks for reading!
- ryan

Ryan's Christmas Wish List 2015

 It's that time of year again, when I open up my heart and let you in on all my Christmas wishes for this holiday season.  While some of these may seem a little far-reaching, or even unattainable, I'd like to remind you that in the past I wished for several things that did come true (a Stanley Cup in Boston in 2011, the Ruby-Spears Superman cartoon on DVD, and a new Aerosmith album, just to name a few).  And of course there's one item that has eluded me since Christmas 1999.  So, as usual, we'll start there.

A Goddam Frigging Uncle Jesse Doll
Look, there's something that can be said about being persistent.   This doll has been at the top of my Christmas Wish List for just about forever (...and I'd ask the sky just what we had...), and I haven't gotten it yet.  Not either version of the bloody thing.  Originally I was simply asking for the Rockin' Uncle Jesse.  The one with the guitar and red shirt.  The guitar opens up to show pictures of Jesse's family.  These days, though, I feel as though my Christmas Wish has compounded interest and I won't settle for just the Rockin' Jesse.  Nope, I want the four-pack of dolls that include Uncle Jesse, Aunt Becky, and the twins.  I've seen these on eBay for about $200, still in their packaging.  I'm not picky.  They don't need to still be in the package.  I'd just take them out and play with them anyway.  So, if everyone would just chip in a few bucks, my Christmas wish could come true.  Now, I also realize that I could drop my own money on these toys, and that's okay, but here's the thing - I really want this given to me as a gift.  I want someone to find this doll somewhere and think of me.  Please, don't spend two hundred bucks on a toy.  Unless you want me to love you forever (...because I'll be so happy loving you...).

There's plenty of mercy to be had by all!

More Beer from Wychwood Brewery
I'm a big fan of Hobgoblin, and all of it's ugly sisters.  Seriously, King Goblin makes me all happy inside.  Even Hobgoblin Gold is a nice afternoon ale.  The Wychwood Brewery has been making quality beers for the better half of my legal adulthood.  The one exception is "Scarecrow", which is a fucking horrid piece of shit beer.  Stop brewing it, guys.  I'd like to see a return of Fiddler's Elbow and Black Wych, or an easier way to get Imperial Red than buying a gift pack that includes a bottle of Scarecrow.  So let's see what else these brew masters can come up with.  Maybe something with a dragon on the label?  Or a fire-breathing unicorn drinking blood? I know!  A one-eyed rabbit!  Those guys are awesome.  Keep up the good non-Scarecrow brews!

Christopher Reeve as Superman again

He'd whoop Batman's ass.

A few years back, some of the lost Superman IV: The Quest For Peace footage turned up as bonus material on a DVD release, but it wasn't all of it.  I'd really like to see that movie in it's entirety, even if it is a piece of shit.  Even if the graphics are awful, and the story is boring, and the actors are just phoning it in.  To me, it's another chance to see Christopher Reeve as Superman.  Hell, I'd even settle for someone using some nifty animation to fill in the gaps of the story.   But why stop there?  Why not make some direct-to-DVD animated features in the style of the classic Superman movies?  There were plot ideas for Superman battling with Brainiac and Mr. Mxyzptlk, and since CGI is good enough now to pull it off, all you'd need is some voice-alikes to make it all work.  Brandon Routh even sounded like Reeve when he did Superman Returns.  I'd buy them.  I'd watch them.  I think it's something that would make us all happy.
Note: In the meantime, there's a very good fan video on YouTube of Christopher Reeve's Superman battling the Hulk.  You should watch it.

A Lifetime Supply of Almonds
This one shouldn't be too hard to take care of.  Let's suppose I eat thirty whole almonds each day.  We then multiply that by how many days I expect to live, and it just becomes an easy math equation.  We let "A" represent almonds, "R" represent me, and ... and... math is hard.

don't forget to carry the one!

naughty time with you, me, and the lovely wife
I'm just gonna leave this here until she gives me trouble for it.

...or how about just a goddam Uncle Jesse doll?  Is it too much to ask?

- ryan