Where Good Blogs Go To Die

had a dream that I met a wizard and we fell in love and became unhealthily attached to each other so we decided to meld into one single creature together but the process was horrifically slow and painful and most of the dream was us lying in bed holding hands while lesions opened up in our skin and seeped out blue and green fluid and the wizard said "this is going to take a very very long time" and I said "that's ok"

the critics are raving

Wakey wakey, Mister Freeman. Hands off... snakey. Not that I... wish to imply you have been cranking on the job. No one is more deserving of a tug, and all the effort in the world would have gone to waste until... well, let's just say your hour has... cum again.

i know this is coming from a place of like intense sexual objectification and homophobia and racism not to mention the world ending efforts of big oil but unfortunately it is so funny

i love that this is perfectly designed to make every single political person angry but for different reasons

Radical Centrism

What makes this even funnier is if you’re a rich guy and do this the actual poker players will shower you with praise and say you’re great and to keep doing what you’re doing because they’re just siphoning money from you and want you to keep it up. Like, that’s the original definition of a “whale” in the gambling sense

The straight woman is unsatisfied with straight studio porn. She wants to get off to something in which the actors actually emote and show passion beyond canned moans from the women and, at best, vacant grunts from the men. She turns to gay porn. She knows it's not "for her," but neither was the straight porn, and at least the actors look like they're enjoying themselves. And for a short while she is satiated by Sean Cody et al, but she runs into the same problems she had to begin with. She was not looking at sex but a simulacrum of sex, trapped in Plato's cave. Unsatisfied, she turned to vintage gay porn, harkening to a time when most gay bars still had darkrooms and reliably smelled of piss and Amyl Nitrite. Here was the real thing, in all its animalistic passion. But she still couldn't immerse herself in the fantasy. She wanted the media to engage with her own imagination and meet her half-way, rather than having it spoonfed to her onscreen. She turned to yaoi, with its elongated figures reminiscent of mannerist portraiture, then bara, including hardcore BDSM scenes. But the tactile sensations depicted in the pages didn't do justice to their real life counterparts. She turned deeper into her own imagination, this time reading erotica. No, not the poolside paperbacks sold at Barnes and Noble. The good shit. Why then, was she still not satisfied? She dug deeper, searching for the true meaning of eroticism. She studied the psychoanalysis of Freud, the cultural criticism of Susan Sontag, the feminist poetry of Audre Lorde. She took vacation time and flew to Europe, starting at the caves of Lascaux to explore the human urge to create, then traversed the Camino de Santiago on foot, along the way meeting a 56 year old carpenter from Burgos named Andrés, with whom she had an explosive affair. They both knew it couldn't last, which made them cherish each other's touch all the more. Upon flying home, she gave up. If her search for true eroticism never bore fruit this whole time, why would it now? It would take years before she stumbled upon the answer by pure happenstance: dubstep.

i was playing rayman arena and my mom was like what are you playing and i was like rayman arena and she said oh your grandmother wanted me to name you that

hunk of parmesan: i'm getting so small! 😁 keep going! i wonder if i can get even smaller 😯

microplane, getting more and more delirious with lust as my knuckles get closer to it: he's ruight

reddit is having a glitch where it puts the wrong captions over photos and it’s the only thing i care about right now