Crystal Poony - Professional Actress

Crystal Poony - Professional Actress

This is such bullshit!  I watched the Cadmy Awards last night and they didn't not even talk about me. Bullshit!  Rico said that if when I started making my movies that I would get Cadmy Awards and Oskirts and a whole bunch of other tight shit.

It was so fucked up!  I actressed in like, over 75 different movies last year.  I thought I would have won something for at least half of those.  I act so fucking good.  In "Cum Bum Anal Invasion", I had to pretend to not like anal, I was all like "Ow, no Mr... please, not in my poo button"  And I had to pretend to cry and junk.  That is not easy you know.  I had to use like, memories to act good and stuff.

I thought I was winning awards right at the beginning of the Cadmys.  They were all like "Presenting Crystal" and I was like OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!!  But instead of me walking out on the TV to get my statue it was a gross old man.  Rico said he was like, Billy Crystal and not me Crystal.  Rico is such a prick!

They had a Best Actress catergory and I was so for sure positive that I was gonna win.  I thought everybody saw me when I acted like a cave woman in "Cum Caveman Cum Cum Cum"  Its not easy to say my lines with my mouth full of all that cum.  I'd like to see Billy Crystal try it!  I bet he would have to swallow and say his lines like an amateur.  But you know what?  My name was not even mentioned once!  What the fuck?!

Old Mr Marquino says that I'm the Meryl Streep of fisting.  Rico saids that Meryl Streep has wond Oskirts statues and other shit and she is sooooo not hot.  It doesn't make any sense!  Those Hollywood people don't know shit about what good actressing is.  I bet Meryl Streep has never taken 30 blindfolded creampies like I did in "Make Me Pregnant Vol 17".

Rico said that maybe I don't like, stand out enough!  I was like "Fuck you Rico!"  and he like calmed me down by giving me this sweet Tasmanian Devil tattoo on my tit.  His cartoon boner is my nipple.  If that doesn't make that Cadmys give me statues, I don't know what will. 

I am for sure to win next year.  Tomorrow we start filming a historical, like, drama movie.  I play a lady Abraham Lincoln.  I get to act all like, presidential and junk. I'll wear a big beard with that big hat, it is gonna be the shit!  The movie ends with me banging a huge black John Wilkes Booth in a theater and he sassisnates  me in the face with his big black cock blast.  Everybody is going to cry so hard when I fake like I died and stuff.  Fuck yeah!

Next year I better see myself getting statues on the TV or I am gonna sue somebody.  I'm fucking serious!  I am so serious, Rico!  I am so!   I'll sue you!  Fucking Rico!



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The End of Natural Selection

For billions of years the earth has been in balance with itself, and has long sustained a constantly evolving biology driven by the variables of reproductive success. The ingenious way this is achieved is through the death or sterilization of the weakest among a given species' ranks. If every monkey but one was able to climb trees, he stood a higher probability of being eaten by predators. If a particular dinosaur was born with an uncontrollable urge to gnaw off it's own genitals then it was much less likely to breed successfully and pass along those undesirable genes. Then came mankind.

We have managed to overcome that natural balance and create a bountiful and lush environment for ourselves to rapidly reproduce. Where it is cold, we make warm homes. Where it is hot we air condition. And when someone is born with their brain and lungs on the outside of their body, we stuff them back in, sew them up, and send them to school to be educated. Not surprisingly this has given rise to some rather unfavorable genes still floating around in our society.

And before you get up on your high horse and accuse me of advocating genocide, I would like to to point out that this problem will have no consequence for humanity in any way. You see, in order for us to degrade our genepool to the point that we are no longer viable and become extinct we would need to survive many thousands and millions of years from now. We all know that we will either destroy the earth's ability to sustain us and we will starve, we will destroy all society and culture in world wars, or both, long before we suffer on evolutionary terms.

Want proof that natural selection is dead? I will provide several examples of modern body modification practices that have their roots in medieval torture, all with glorious pictures you can cringe at. If we are to the point of inflicting these atrocities on ourselves willingly, then we have retained genetic markers that should have long ago been selected out of the genepool.

We start with the most famous torture/execution method in history, crucifixion. You see, this method utilizes nails to suspend someone from a structure and cause their body weight to tear their flesh and leave them to suffer in agony. The modern equivalent is done with stainless steel hooks that pierce the skin, and is quite common among counter-culture groups.

Another torture practice is known as flaying and consists of the removal of the skin, usually in long strips. This is one of the more universally feared torture methods, for obvious reasons. But some body modification enthusiasts still pursue this horrible procedure. Although quite intricate and artistic, the scarification process makes my skin crawl (pun intended).

The act of quartering is basically the forceful removal of the limbs, usually after tying arms and legs to horses and setting them all running in different directions. This is a truly ferocious method of amputation and spells certain death for the accused. The modern equivalent is surgical amputation, from the toes (pictured here) to full limbs.

The final example is particularly brutal, and is known as "the pear of anguish". This contraption is inserted into the vagina or anus and cranked until the device blossoms, causing severe distention in the sensitive tissues and assuring infection. The same concept is applied regularly in the pornography industry, as well as in private sexual practices. It is interesting that this terrifying act has evolved into a pleasurable one, as indicated by her sincere smile.

So there you have it, readers. You have now been enlightened to the evolution of torture and it's implication on the decline of observed natural selection in the human race. There is no need to thank me, but you're welcome anyway.

Mhu Ha Ha

MAD SCIENTIST HAPPY FUN TIME!!!

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A Hamtackle Dramatic Reading: Erotica Edition

Hello, all. Please join me for an evening tale of buggery and debauchery, expertly read in the feminine first-person by the esteemed Hamtackle. So whether you are the type to get soggy, or the type that gets stiff, you will be sure to find this post most... stimulating.

Housewyfe And Caveman

A Man, A Musket, And A Murder Vol 9

The executive elevator was crowded by the presence of two near strangers on a mission. Vic Musket had one friend in the world right now, and he was standing next to him as they descended to a subterranean parking garage. Bertram deactivated an alarm from his pocket and a pair of BMW headlights flashed in response, catching Vic's eye.

 

"God damn. That's a nice car." He said.

 

"I know. That's why I hope you wont be offended when I make you sit on a blanket. You're filthy, Vic. And that is leather." Bert was quite sincere.

 

"No problem, Bert." Vic waited until the precious interior was sufficiently protected, then sat down in the passenger seat slamming the door quite hard. Before Bert could protest Vic had already lit a cigarette.

 

They were headed to meet a lawyer in a hotel room a few miles away. The men were following instructions given from the DA, who was under serious pressure to solve the horrible murder Vic was accused of. Vic remained suspicious of the DA, but was convinced Bert was an ally. He just hoped his pull could get him out of this, or at least keep the case open if he had to do some time. After a short drive the men arrived at a tall building that was covered in glass windows and surrounded by scrambling tourists and convention-goers.

 

"They said he would be waiting in the lobby. I sure hope this doesn't take long. I have to take a shit like you wouldn't believe." Bert said rather dryly, surprising Vic. He seemed like he had about as much personality as the suit he was wearing, but maybe Vic had him all wrong...

 

The two men walked into the hotel lobby and were immediately approached by a smiling, obese mexican in a tee shirt and shorts. "I take it you are Vic Musket. They told me you couldn't be missed." The man said, drawing an aggressive stare from Vic. He didn't like someone having an edge on him, and said nothing in response. "Follow me, guys. I have a room on the sixth floor." The man started off to the elevator.

 

"Before we head up, do you mind if I use the restroom?" Bert asked. He appeared to be sweating.

 

"Of course. I think it is down the hallway, on the other side of the bar." The lawyer gestured, and Bert was off without a word at a pace that indicated he was desperate. "By the looks of it he might be awhile. Care for a drink, Mr. Musket? I'm buying..."

 

"Well if you twist my arm..." Vic grinned.

 

Bert was befouling a bathroom stall in a very loud way, and had been for the better part of a half hour, when he heard a loud crash and some shouting. The words replayed in his head... "down the hallway, on the other side of the BAR" He sprung to his feet and burst out of the stall door, still buttoning his fine trousers and slightly shitting himself in the process. He just hoped Vic was fighting strangers, and not the lawyer.

 

To be continued...

 

Scum City Avengers - Nut'in Means A Lot

Well looky here! It's another one of Terlet's musical posts!! It's another song by the Scum City Avengers, The song is called - Nut'in Means A Lot.

It will get inside of your body and do things to you.... Things that you will like.   Moist things.

Click here if the Flash Player does not display because you've got some fancy Ipad or Digital Dick Book or something...

Scum City Avengers: 2nd Album cover never finished, band broke up - by dopaMEAN

I have never seen this picture before.  I did some Googling and found an unfinished picture of the Scum City Avengers 2nd album that was never made.  I don't know who the guy is who drew it and I don't have a Myspace account.  If you do, why not check out  the artist's page?

http://www.myspace.com/dopameanmusic

It warms my belly to find a never before seen treasure.

Enjoy!


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The Talk

 

Billy, sit down. We need to have a talk. I spoke to your teacher yesterday and she told me you have been a little... curious with the girls in your class recently. Now I don't want you to be embarrassed, son. This is really a normal thing that all boys go through when they are your age. Even me!

 

But we need to make sure you can control your feelings and respect the bodies of other people. It gets easier as you grow older, and soon you will understand why. You know what I'm talking about right, Billy? The way your underwear gets crowded when you look at girls? Well it is totally natural.

 

You see, boys have cocks and girls have cunts, and cocks and cunts really enjoy each other's company. So when you look at girls your cock wants to meet the cunt and spit on it. The way your cock tells you what it wants is by growing and shouting things in your head. It says things like "Go touch Susie's underwear while you have the chance. She won't be bending over forever!", and "I want to meet your teacher! I'm not going away until you show me to her!". But you have to ignore your cock almost all the time. If you ever do what it tells you when you are in public then the police will come and take you away. They may keep you in a room for a long time, and even after the let you go home they will tell everyone in your neighborhood that you are a boy that can't ignore his cock. People will be afraid and angry at you.

 

But some day a girl will let you talk to her more than once, and she might even smile at you. And if you say really nice things to her, and maybe give her a little money, she might introduce you to her cunt. But make sure that you NEVER ask to meet it. Girls are very protective of their cunts and get angry if they think you are trying to meet theirs without being nice to them first. And if you do meet her cunt, you can kiss it and pet it, but be careful not to scare it. It will hide if you make any sudden moves. Let the cunt come to you, son.

 

If your meeting goes well then you might be able to introduce it to your cock. By that time it will be very eager to socialize, but don't pull it out to quickly because you might scare the cunt back into hiding. You should be able to tell if the cunt wants to meet your cock because it will start foaming at the mouth. When they first meet your cock will try to attack the cunt, but will eventually be overpowered and get eaten by the cunt. Don't be alarmed, this is normal. After a little while your cock will get a little aggressive and spit in the cunt's mouth.

 

Before allowing this to happen you may want to install a hat on your cock, which can prevent all kinds of sicknesses that your cock can catch. It will even stop something terrible from happening, because cunts sometime throw up BABIES! That's right, after cocks and cunts meet and the cock spits in the cunt's mouth the cunt sometimes throws up a bunch of blood and mucus that turns into a baby. That's how all babies are made, and it is a very disgusting and painful process that should be avoided at all costs, unless you are old and lonely.

 

So that explains about why you keep wanting to touch the girls in school, and why you can't act on those thoughts. Now remember everything I just told you, son, because we will never talk about it again and the world expects you to act like you can't hear your cock screaming in your brain all day long, because that is what being a man is all about. Now let's take a look at your homework...

 

Perfect Darque with D. Mona Darque



D. Mona Darque

 I was asked to support Popular Irony by submitting some of my original artwork, so whatever, here it is. I just finished three paintings and they are still wet. I hope you can handle true feminine beauty and appreciate my commentary on equality and social taboo.

My name is D. Mona Darque, and I have been perfecting my unique medium for seven years now, and I specialize in a genre of feminist expression known as "vagino-phallic inequity rage art". I paint using only the menstrual blood collected from my diva cup, which is a reusable feminine product. I am able to get different hues and degrees of darkness by aging the blood.  Please experience my recent creations, as I am sure they will help you achieve greater enlightenment, particularly if you are a non-female (I do not use the gender name because of it's destructive history as a word of power domination).

This is a painting I call "Celestial Womb-Birth". It is representative of the creation theory that the great void before time was an endless vagina, a vacuum that spewed forth the planets, stars, and galaxies in one violent and bloody convulsion that we know as the big bang. The painting reminds the viewer about nature's feud with womankind, as it demands a painful martyrdom to further humanity.

I call this piece "The Power of NO!". My inspiration was the many tales of violent female revolution, particularly Lorena Bobbit's story. Back in June of 1993 she ended a cycle of domination and rape by attacking her husband's power center, the penis, and severed it while he slept. After discarding it out of a car window, it was recovered and reattached. Sweet vindication was complete when she was found not guilty of any crime, reminiscent of Nat Turner's slave rebellion.

The last painting tonight is called "A Beautiful Shame". This is a condemnation of the social taboos about female biology in all non-female dominated cultures. The titles of "unclean" or "graphic" given to menstruation, birth, and nursing. Indeed the burden of lifemaking is marginalized under a degrading label perpetrated by the non-females that remain envious of creation.

Love, glory, and wonder be to all who appreciate the Mother. Contempt, suffering, and loss be to those that oppose Her.

The Illusive Crotch-Squatch

Editor's note: Prof. Ted Gunderson is a world renowned Cryptozoologist, cuisinier, huntsman, fundamentalist christian and vitriolic Republican. His journal of political thought and mythical cuisine is published out of his garage.

Burns, OR - You can imagine the stunned, dumb-fucked expression on my face when I made the discovery.  I have spent many a wasted decade pursuing the unknown, dipping my bits in the undiscovered, forcefully plunging waste deep into that which is Cryptid.  After countless expeditions I have very little to show for my life's work.  Until now fuckers!  Who'da thunk that all I had to do validate my career was to meticulously peer at my own hairy groin. 

Recently, I have been plagued by a painfully itchy crotch.  No silverware scrape or creamy lotion could soothe my inflamed pubis.  Fearing that my constant port-o-potty visits exposed me to an especially virulent form of crabs, I equipped my magnifying glass and began my investigation.

Much to my surprise, after many hours of pube-peeping, I spotted something strange.  In the corner of my magnifying glass, I saw something deftly hide behind a tuft of hairs.  Thinking I had finally spotted my quarry, I equipped my Crab Grabbers (tweezers) and pulled aside the concealing hairs.  Behind my magnified bits of bush was a creature of legend, the Crotch-Squatch (Paranthropus Pubis).  The tiny cousin of the great Sasquatch.

The Crotch-Squatch (Paranthropus Pubis)

The beast, knowing it was cornered and hoping to appease my hungry tweezers, gave me a friendly wave.  Amazed, I waved back.  How long has this majestic creature roamed my groin?  Are there more of them?  The Crotch-Squatch is the most rare and illusive of all the sasquatches.  I now consider the thick tufts of hair surrounding my meaty genitals a private nature preserve.  I will do whatever it takes to protect and care for the Crotch-Squatch and his possible kin.

Every morning I smear my genitals in pine tar and banana puree.  I rinse my naughty bits in only the purest mountain spring water.The last time I spotted my pubic pal, his belly was jolly and he was gleefully dining on stringy glops of pine tar and banana mash from my short and curlys.

I will continue to be a good loin landlord to my tiny friend.  I will observe him in his natural habitat and record his actions in my "Journal of the Unknown".  It's chock full of crazy shit.  I will tolerate the constant pelvic irritation for the good of the species..........  Oooooohhhh.....  I think he is digging for "roots" again.  That is not a pleasant sensation. 

Ciao and Godspeed -Prof. T. Gunderson



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Charity

I live and work in a very large city and over the years I have stopped paying attention to all the human drama around me. When I first moved here I was shocked to see the homeless defecating in the street, or a prostitute peddling her ass down the boulevard. But now I find myself walking with my head down, avoiding the world around me.

Every day I walk the same route to and from the bus stop, and every day I see the same man begging for change. This man sticks out from the crowd of unfortunate street dwellers though, as he always has his old, gray dog with him. It is some kind of ratty german shepherd mix with milky eyes and missing teeth. The man sits at the same street corner ever day with a sign that says "I can take care of myself, but need $1.84 for a can of dog food. God bless."

From what I can tell he begs for enough money to feed his dog everyday, then scavenges for his own meal. This little daily demonstration of humanity really touched me, the way this homeless man had too much pride to beg for himself but gladly did so to make sure his dog didn't go hungry. I couldn't help but respect this man that placed his commitment to his dog above all else, even his own comfort and livelihood.

So I started buying extra cans of dog food to bring to the man every so often. He was always very gracious, and even offered to give me the change he had gathered so far in return. Once a week for the last two years I was giving this man some dog food, and I have to admit, it had been making me feel much better about myself. But there was something bothering me. The old man seemed to be getting noticeably heavier while the dog remained emaciated and sickly. For some reason I became obsessed with the idea that the beggar was letting the dog wither away on scraps and eating the dog food himself. It might seem crazy, but this idea really bothered me for some time and was keeping me up at night.

I decided to get tot the bottom of it, so I began spying on the man. I would give him some dog food and pretend to go to work, then secretly follow him. But each time he would gather his belongings and shuffle off to a plywood shanty that he remained in for the rest of the day. But I had a plan to figure it out once and for all, and quickly put it to action.

The following week I prepared a special arsenic-laced batch of dog food and graciously gave it the way I had been for some time. I'll be damned if the next day that dog wasn't in the exact spot that the old beggar sat in for the last several years. I guess that bastard had been swindling me from the beginning.