Heather Locklear recently told the distinguished beacon of journalism TMZ that the key to have young, vibrant skin is putting semen on her face.
Semen is rich in antioxidants and some spas, such as Townhouse Spa in NYC, offer sperm facials. This is most likely recommended by doctors. Most definitely these doctors are men. The same male scientists have come up with a few other natural remedies and tips to keep women looking young and feeling great!
1) Worried about wrinkles? Give someone a handjob. It’s been proven by male scientists that the physical exertion put forth from vigorous vertical arm motions loosen collagen and the sweat retains moisture in the epidermus of the face.
2) Hot flashes got you down? Wear a white shirt and no bra. Hot flashes are relieved by wearing light clothing, and the lack of bra will keep your temperature down.
3) Worried about cellulite? Stop wearing panties and dress like a nurse! Cellulite occurs when our thigh muscles become used to the supportive properties of the panties. Removing the panties trains our muscles to become stronger. Dressing like a nurse is sexy.
4) Considering botox? Try the natural alternative: making our with your girlfriend while male scientists watch. Botox is literally filling your face with poison, but making out with Cindy from your Zoomba class is a healthy way of tensing up your facial muscles and giving male scientists boners.
5) Frustrated with your dry, frizzy hair? Try up the butt! This method known scientifically as “up-the-butt-sex” frees your hair’s natural oils and prevents dryness… as long as you use an appropriate amount of lube.
6) Growing Older? Show me your boobs. There are conflicting opinions in the scientific community regarding the validity of these tests. Results are inconclusive, but one added side effect is it helps get horny male scientists through their day.
Did you hear about the drunk Florida woman who was arrested for calling 911 because she was lonely?
Can I admit something? When I was a little girl, I would call 911 just to make sure the phones were working! I’d always hang up after the first ring, and one time they actually called back!! That definitely stopped me from calling again. Maybe I was just lonely too…
Ya know, I applaud her for her efforts. Some people do much worse things when they’re drunk and lonely - they jump into swimming pools and baths and drown, some drunk dial their ex boyfriends or girlfriends, and some sit in front of the TV and overeat while watching reruns of RHOA or KUWTK (If you don’t know what those abbreviations mean, you are not my friend. Stop reading this and go google that shit. NOW.)
A good way to avoid getting lonely when drunk is to drink at Political Subversities live show! Running for two more Saturdays in April at The PIT in NYC. Click here for tickets and info!
With all the plastic I’ve thrown away in my lifetime… all the Starbucks cups and styrofoam take out boxes and all the sewage I’ve created, and we are talking about a lot of sewage…. the thought of disgracing the planet yet again when I die, this time eternally, with my stank-ass varnished coffin, with a fucking pillow….covered in awkward make-up, old as balls, and then encased in cement…. I can’t do it.
So with you as my witnesses, if I die tomorrow or 80 yrs from now, this is what I want. I want to become a tree and here’s how it’s gonna happen. And if you outlive me, this falls on your shoulders so don’t fuck it up or I will haunt you so hard you’ll wish you had never read this blog post.
Listen closely: There’s a burial option for human beings called a “biodegradable urn”. You get cremated and put into the biodegradable urn, into which a seed is placed…. so you gotta decide what kind of tree you wanna be before you die. You following? You then…. get planted. The dirt you’re in and your own ashes, fertilize the seed and you grow into a frickin’ tree! It’s brilliant!!! Congratulations, you are a tree. You are reborn as a tree. Here is your tree passport, but you’re not going anywhere cuz you’re a tree.
Your family can come and visit you. And you are just chilling out there, for hundreds of years, being awesome, because that is what trees do. That is what all trees do and you are a tree. And then when the tree falls, you could become a wooden bench, and after that a rotten wooden bench and after that a restored rotten wooden bench and it will just not stop being amazing, it will only get better from there. Who is ready to die!!!!? I can’t wait to be a tree..
This world, all of you, everything, is a practice run for what a baller tree I’m gonna be. I’ll see you… in the Brooklyn Botanic Garden.
You may suck at hosting awards shows, but you’ve probably got a really big job coming up because, I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but there was this cop who was fired and had a vendetta against his old job so he wrote a really long angry letter and then rampaged across the Greater Los Angeles area shooting people, then hid in a Cabin in Big Bear and apparently rode out of the cabin in a horse (but that turned out to be a lie) and then the cops found him and set fire to the cabin he was hiding in and now he’s dead and now every major studio is trying to make the movie and you will probably be the lead in the movie cause you look just like the dude.
I had the pleasure of watching your movie Django: Unchained last evening. It was thrilling, emotional and (dare I say) educational.
As a white 26-year old from the vast Midwest, I have always been curious about the black struggle in the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries. And now, through the magic of your movie Django: Unchained I have learned more than I bargained for. Especially the N-word. In fact, here’s a list of things I learned:
1)German people sometimes don’t sound so German!
2)I can say the N-word, too!
3)Snowmen can make you a really good shooter!
4)The N-word isn’t that big a deal to say!
5)Ku Klux Klan members can and will be funny!
6)If someone kills your friend, sell them to Australians!
7)The N-word can be said by white people, now!
So in honor of Django: Unchained, I will now use the N-word in my post.
Remember that one scene where he’s tied up and hanging upside down? Yeah, that’s the N-word I’m talking about. Which one did you think?
There sure are a lot of ways that everything you ever do on your computer can be seen by everyone you’ve ever known.
Every website you sign up for in this newfangled world of 2013 (!!) has an option to register through Facebook. And seeing as how I am a lazy resident of 2013 (!!), I obviously choose the one click Facebook signup option instead of having to put in an email address AND a password AND one of those hey look what are all these numbers and letters boxes. So now, every time I google search and click on various results, I am convinced that somehow through one of these registrations, all of Facebook, Instagram and Twitter must be watching my every step.
Sometimes a person needs to google breakfast recipe ideas to impress his family at Christmastime (since he is unable to impress them with money or wives). What if Facebook sees that I clicked on a Paula Deen recipe? I can see the comment now “Preston has diabetes.” and the subsequent eight Likes this comment will get. “What a fat person Preston is.” But turns out I chose the spinach and mushroom egg white crust free quiche! But they’ll never know, because all they have to go on is my fateful click on Paula Deen’s now skinnier but still fat face.
Sometimes I think I know the crossword puzzle answer to “Son of Aphrodite.” It must be Eros. There are four letters, and I already have that the first letter is E. But what if it’s not? What if it’s wrong and that prevents that whole corner of the crossword from being solved? So maybe I google it. And maybe someone else on Facebook is doing the same crossword and came across that clue earlier that morning. And they knew right away it was Eros and filled it in because they are the type of person who doesn’t second guess every correct answer they have. But guys. I wanted to make sure because I am suspicious of the two back to back S’s that Eros gives to clue 105 across. Comment on Preston’s google search activity: “Preston is very very stupid.” Eleven subsequent Likes.
Don’t even get me started on porn. A man has needs. And he already feels shameful enough satisfying those needs alone with pixels, but now that man also has to feel shameful that MAYBE someone can see that sometimes all you need is the one minute and thirty seconds preview to a site that man doesn’t have money to pay for. Oh my needs. Oh my needs. “Preston is a Minute Man.” 17 Likes. YEAH CAUSE I KNOW HOW I LIKE IT.
More shameful than my pixelated pleasure is my music choices. I’m not about to show all ya’ll on Spotify that I wanna know what Ke$ha’s new album sounds like. But when I Google her shiz, who can see? Guys, I’m not actually LISTENING to Ke$ha. I’m just curious! I promise right after this song I’m gonna listen to that band you’ve never heard of! But let me find out what kind of computer generated vocal Warrior Ke$ha thinks she is! I’m judging her just as hard as you’re judging my googling! “Preston, it’s ironic to like Ke$ha in 2013.” No Likes. Cause Preston should have known that. He sucks and you can all see on Facebook.
Hang on. Lemme just google how to insert a sad face emoji into a blog post.
On a recent day traveling through the mountains of Pennsylvania, I happened upon a Pilot gas station and traveler’s center. Being on a bus and having a mandatory driver’s 30 minute break, I had to check out the place. And the question I found myself asking at every turn: WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?
What the fuck is this?
Oh duh - a guide to the Dead Sea Scrolls… just what I need…. when going through Pennsylvania.
What the fuck is this?
The best description I can give is that it is a wolf box. Ya know - a box to put your wolf stuff inside. You’ll know it’s your wolf stuff from the outside of the box.
What the fuck is this?
Just a monkey in a purse. A “Fancy Pal” if you will.
What the fuck is this?
Just some BACON CHEDDAR crackers. And look at the picture of the cheddar - fine. What is going on with that bacon? It’s twirled like a rat tail. Who decided that? ”Yeah, Mark - we’re going to need you to redo the picture. No - keep the cheddar - can we make the bacon look more…disgusting?”
Then I found myself in the bathroom and saw the classic truck stop condom machine.
But take a closer look. None of those are for condoms. They’re all sexual stimulants. We’ve gone from - “I might have sex, better grab a condom” to “I’m DEFINITELY having sex, better make sure I’m up to my sexual peak.”
Uncle Sam is crying. You’re using SIBERIAN ginseng? What happened to good ol’ AMERICAN ginseng?
And finally, something I know. Apple juice.
Diesel treat? Fuck I drank like 3 gallons, I gotta g—-