Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Pre-Coital Agreement

And 3:43AM. We present a document that might help prevent all those unwanted pregnancies, baby mama dramas and the trapping of relatively sane people in loveless marriages for the sake of the baby.

DETOUR: The next person who calls a pregnancy "accidental" will get an ear full from me.

Penis + Vagina = Semen dispersement (Ejaculation) x Ovum ambush (Fertilization) = Fetus

A thing doing what it is designed to do is no accident, merely brilliant engineering!


WHEREAS, __________________________ (hereinafter referred to as Depositor”) and ______________________ (hereinafter referred to as “Receiver”) are currently pre-coital but wish to provide, prior to coitus, for a formal agreement ensuring that their separate lives will remain free from any claims arising out of the prospective coital relationship.

WHEREAS the Parties desire to contract with each other concerning matters of reproductive management during the term of their coital relationship and is intend to be a binding and enforceable pre-coital agreement and they understand and intend that the provisions of this Agreement shall prevail over the provisions of law or any jurisdiction that would apply in the absence of this Agreement.

A discussion regarding the use of protective gear must precede any disrobing.
I, ”Depositor” DO/DO NOT hereby consent to wear a silicone, lamb or plastic material over my member during coitus to provide an alternate receiver of my manly juices for the sole purpose of preventing the unwanted fertilization of “Receiver” ovum.

I, ”Receptor” do hereby consent to engaging in a coital relationship WITH/WITHOUT “Depositor” wearing a silicone, lamb or plastic material over Depositor’s member during coitus to provide an alternate receiver of his manly juices for the sole purpose of preventing the unwanted fertilization of my ovum with the understanding that “Depositor” is released from any and all parental involvement and responsibility (e.g. financial, emotional, spiritual, physical etc) in the life of my offspring in the event that my ovum is unwantedly fertilized.

Two Morning After Pills plus Instructions must be presented to Receiver pre-coital.

I, ”Depositor” DO hereby present “Receiver” with TWO MORNING AFTER PILLS (PLUS INSTRUCTIONS) to be consumed no more than 72 hours after completion of coital relationship for the sole purpose of preventing the unwanted fertilization of Receiver ovum.

I, ”Receiver” DO hereby confirm receipt of TWO MORNING AFTER PILLS (PLUS INSTRUCTIONS) which I choose to CONSUME/NOT CONSUME no more than 72 hours after the coital relationship for the sole purpose of preventing the unwanted fertilization of my ovum with the understanding that “Depositor” is released from any and all parental involvement and responsibility (e.g. financial, emotional, spiritual, physical etc) in the life of my offspring in the event that my ovum is unwantedly fertilized.

In the event that “Receiver” does not reach orgasm, this Agreement is to be considered null and void and “Receiver” is free to go after “Depositor” for everything, you selfish son of a bitch!

I, “Depositor” do hereby consent to relinquish all parental involvement and responsibility (e.g. financial, emotional, spiritual, physical etc) in the life of the offspring in the event that “Receiver’s” ovum is unwantedly fertilized, for the duration of my entire natural live plus fifty years.

The parties agree that each enters into this Agreement without any reservations or promises, though there may be some pressure or inducements, they have done so as their own free and voluntary act and deed.

If any disputes arise relative to the pre-coital agreement and the parties cannot resolve it, both parties agree that they will not result to guilt trips and idle threats.

This Agreement is binding and cannot be alterable by any custodians of the state, judicial or government entities without a mutual written Agreement signed by both Parties.

This Agreement may be executed in counterparts each of which when so executed and delivered shall be deemed to be an original and all of which together shall constitute but one and the same instrument.

Each and every provision hereof shall inure to the benefit of and shall be binding upon the heirs, assigns, personal representatives, and all successors in the interest of the parties.


Depositor Date

Receiver Date

*This Agreement is void if signed Post-Coital.
** Please make two copies.


Lets Talk About Sex

Why? Because Hannah Montana has discovered that she can do a lot more with those hips than jump on stage. She can shove them into a leotard and crotch-smothering tight jeans.


Parents the world over are having their pubescent daughters tare down their Hannah Montana posters to protest her recent MTV award fashion debacle. And that is all I want to say about that. Let’s get on to the sex part.

We all remember our teenage years when pimples and burning loins were commonplace. As if that wasn’t hard enough (no pun intended) the Hollywood, Bollywood and all the rest of the woods were over sexing everything. Everything had a sex angle. The type of beer you bought determined how many chicks you’d bang that night. You name it they attached a crotch to it. Hence the term “sex sells”.

Throw yourself into an 80s or 90s movie flashback. It was all about the human “Basic Instinct.” Sex came with a cheesy theme song, steamy windows, a foggy ambiance, delicious sweat trembling down toned, tanned caramel skin and fireworks that augmented the deep moans of rapture. Everyone having sex seemed to be having fun, as was implied by the post-coital glow, regardless of how “Fatal the Attraction”. They made it look like touching heaven. After one of those movies, you couldn’t wait to go out and get some. Sex was/is everywhere, even on Bugs Bunny. BUT, you were not allowed to mention it, let alone engage in it. Only loose girls and fast boys were allowed to touch heaven.

Can humanity be anymore sexually repressed than it already is? This morality stick has become ridiculous. Think about it. Africans, who spent the better part of the 20th century with tits and genitalia in the wind, are all covered up in batik or Kente cloth in a false sense of modesty. This s*$% ain’t right. And what the adults are doing to the teenagers should be punishable by death!

Adults, who really do run these “entertainment” industries, ram this stuff down the throats of hot-blooded teenagers then vilify them for shaving their heads and popping out babies with unknown backup dancers (hey. Britney?) They are confused. Wouldn’t you be? Feeling all these new feelings, being shown what to do with them, but being threatened with hell fire make the connection. Seriously, one is liable to turn to drugs when 1+1 is no longer 2.

Steal Plantations

You wake up every morning, wash yourself (hopefully), brush your teeth (probably), put some clothes on (definitely) and head out to a steel plantation where you slave for eight hours - minus the two fifteen minute and the one half hour lunch breaks you are legally allowed - to earn a small piece of paper with some numbers on it.
Upon receipt of this small piece of paper, you hop, skip and jump over to another steel plantation where you hand it over to a stranger, who is equally enslaved, who takes it and puts it someplace save with your number to identify it. You walk out believing it will be there when you need it.

You rush over to another steel plantation where you use a plastic card with more numbers on it to purchase food filled with high fructose corn syrup. This plastic card allows these plantations to take numbers from the small piece of paper that you were handed at your plantation, that you gave a stranger at another plantation to hold for you until you needed it. These numbers taken from your small piece of paper end up in other small pieces of paper handed to those people working in the plantations that grow the corn that makes the high fructose corn syrup.

This government approved high fructose corn syrup proceeds to burn a hole in your stomach causing extreme pain, forcing you to run off to another steel plantation where a doctor resides. The doctor asks if you have a separate plastic card with numbers that guarantee he’ll get a small piece of paper with numbers that he too can hand a stranger in another steel plantation to hold for him until he needs it. But you don’t have this card with the numbers that guarantee his small paper because the small piece of paper you were handed at your plantation does not have enough numbers to afford the separate card that has now become law.

So you return to your steel plantation and park yourself in front of a box, you bought with 50% of the numbers on your small piece of paper, to numb your sense while you wait for death to ease your pain.

And you had to go to college just to earn the right to this fallacy!

Monday, July 26, 2010


A couple of weeks ago, while driving home, something happened that caused me much reflection. While cruising down Highland, I came down to the point on Wilshire Boulevard where the two-lane street merges into one lane. This merging was not the result of “construction ahead” or “accident ahead” signs, but merely the way the road is constructed. Therefore everyone living in Los Angeles, everyone who takes that street knows that Highland turns into one lane at Wilshire Boulevard. But, as is to be expected where lanes merge, there are always those drivers who “pretend” to be oblivious of this merger going as far as ignoring all pertinent traffic signs to circumvent their selfishness. It was such a driver who screeched out of the left lane onto the merging lane with the intention of cutting in line.

Unbeknowst to Miss Speedy, she was on a collision course with an African on the verge of a spiritual awakening. She pulled up beside me and manipulatively (based on her motive I hesitate to call her request polite) begged, “could you let me in, (then the after-thought) please?” Translation, “I really don’t want to wait in line so I am hoping to guilt you into letting me cut in front of you”. I took a deep breath, looked her dead in the eyes and then it happened. That small voice within said, “African, be 100% truthful”. Guilt assuaged I calmly said “NO”. She gathered her guilt from my windshield and moved on to the next car.

Now, I know some of you are cringing because you have been taught to play NICE, but you know what, nice is not truth and truth is not always pretty. What if I had let her in while calling her names under my breath? Or better yet, let her in with a curse laced “God bless you” thrown in for good measure? (Come on Christians out there know what I mean. Some of you do it so often you owe God royalties). All that falsehood would do is re-enforce the hypocrisy that so often takes the place of truth. Truth, people, requires that one be honest with oneself first, and that day I wanted to go to bed with a guiltless conscious so my answer was NO.

What most people fail to realize about this situation is that I “honestly, truly did NOT want to let her in” and I truthfully let she and I know this. But there is an even deeper truth here - PARADIGM SHIFT MOMENT - By asking me she was open to either a yes OR no answer. Asking does not necessarily result in a YES response. NO should be just as acceptable. If you don’t understand this then here is a little exercise - bend a knee and toss up a prayer for a pony right now! See, even God says NO once in a while. In my book, there is nothing wrong with saying NO, but there is something wrong with being nice in an attempt to camouflage a truthful NO!

Question: What if she was a crazed woman with a gun? Then we would not be having this bloversation!

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

No More Fuckeries!!!!!!

This is the inter-galactic response to the current humanoid insanity!!!

Earth and its inhabitants have been the topic of discussion at the Annual Inter Galactic Alliance Assembly meetings for the past two thousand years. There has been a general concern among the members of the Alliance that the human race is unleashing a tremendous amount of fuckery upon the Earth.

It is the opinion of all members of the Alliance, excluding Earthlings whose IQ levels are below Assembly standards, that these lower beings are not consuming bovines fast enough due to their preoccupation with fossil fuels and not the true culprit in their midst. The Neptians and Uranians are particularly peeved by the amount of methane gas being unleashed by the Earth dwelling bovines as the gaseous matter fogs up their planets every 150 days when Jupiter and Saturn step out of the way putting them in Earth's general direction.

After extensive debate the IGA passed the Fuckery Eradication Act by a 2 vote margin. This Act required the Martians, the only members with kick ass gadgets capable of annihilate the entire galaxy, and the Plutocrats, believers in diplomacy, to land on planet Earth and swiftly eradicate its gaseous problem. If the Plutocrats' diplomatic tactics proved insufficient the Martians were authorized to take over and wipe out the human race with their biological chemicals.

But the Jupitean Conglomerate threw their cloak into the debate. Fornicators and purveys of all things perverse, the Jupitean emissary stated "the time for diplomacy has long passed; there is no need for the Plutocrats in this battle. Reason must make way for much torture and physical dismemberment. That is good learning for underlings."  He received a great deal of hoorahs from his own kind. The Mercurians, known far-seers, looked into the future and saw the true intent of the Jupiteans and it was decided that their debauchery must not be exported beyond the borders of Pasiphae and Sinope, Jupiter's outermost moons.

After a six hundred year stalemate, a coin toss decided who would accompany the Martians, whose place on the ship no one dared debate. The Saturnians, spiritually superior snobs, wanted no part of this "kick the Earthlings ass campaign"! So, it came as no surprise that they won the coin toss.  

A few days later the IGA's convoy pointed their meteor like space craft towards their preferred landing pad on Earth, their pyramids at Manchu Pinchu, Peru. The whole operation hit a snug when, due to the Martians miscalculation of the earth's shift since their last visit, the convoy found itself descending upon a primitive tribe in the corn fields of Iowa, unleashing their entire cargo of biological chemicals. Needless to say, the disgruntled Saturnians were thoroughly unamused. Apparently the Martians had refused to ask for directions.

Current footage from Earth shows much vomiting and diarrhea. All things considered, the plan was half successful.


Sunday, July 11, 2010

The Post-Coital Backslide into Friendship.

Is it possible to ENJOY a passionate swapping of body fluids with another human being then swiftly regress back into the dark abyss of "just friends" where most never return?

If your answer is YES, then one of two things are true.
A) You are lying to the other human being or
B) You are lying to yourself.
Either way, you are a liar!

The swapping of body fluids is a very intimate experience. Think about it. You are taking INTO yourself fluids that have traveled through someone else entire body and been imprinted with their biological and psychological signature aka DNA. This "other" signature then merges with your own fluids to travel through your entire body altering, even if for just one nano second, your signature. That is deep. No pun intended.

Short of rape, it takes a great deal of mutual chemical stimulation and physical proximity to induce the disrobing process that allows for coitus. Both pairs of eyes must be aroused through optical stimulation, which in turn sends positive charges to the brains synapses alerting them to prepare for sexual warfare. The message gets adrenaline flowing as the heart gets over eager pumping at xxx bpm with anticipation.

Overwhelmed with euphoria, blood is expelled from the kardia traveling to the reproduction organs tenderizing the nerve endings that will be on the frontlines of the battle. The nerve endings, pregnant with blood and bursting at the linings, beg for release and nature takes over to provide repose. Disrobing quickly follows in an attempt to alleviate the sudden increase in body temperatures. The feminine legs involuntarily part to present the labia-guarded-cool-oasis that is the vagina to the overheated, taut and throbbing penis. Coitus!

So how one can believe oneself as having successful backslid from that coital experience into the black hole of “just friends” in under an hour is beyond me.

Self-deception is an annoying habit. Break it!

Saturday, July 10, 2010

Sex and the City 2 - a manolo blahnik kick in the groin

I watched Sex and the City 2 a couple of weeks ago and I must say it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, though it was sillier than I thought it would be.

Why don’t I just skip over the opening ten minute of gay nuptials that included a strange gay chorus belting only-God-knows-what and a stranger than strange Beyonce aka "Single Ladies" homage by Liza Minnelli (seriously, I didn't think she was going to make it. I mean, it was touch and go there for a minute.) In fact, why don't I just skip EVERYTHING that happened in New York; Carrie bored at home, the nanny with the pointy boobs, Miranda taking forever to realize her boss is a sexist, Carrie threatened by another woman, Samantha self medicating into hyper-horniness, Carrie bored at home yet again, take out food, Charlotte paranoid about the nanny with the pointy boobs, the TV in the bedroom, you get the drift, FLUFF.

Let’s start in Abu Dhabi where things got a little interesting for me. Here we were in Abu Dabi, capital of the Emirates and the cultural contradictions were coming at you like a sprinter with gas to a toilet. The first fifteen minutes were a political activists wet dream; the sexily glad Western women juxtaposed with the *abaya covered Arab women. The poor immigrant servants spending months away from the families juxtaposed with the spoiled wealthy Western tourists who forget to dismiss them for the night. The liberated and outspoken “I am woman!” gals of New York juxtaposed with the “rigid and repressed” Emirates women whose husbands cover their eyes to protect them from western debauchery. I was SUPER exited to see this. Sex and the City ACTUALLY liberated its emasculated balls and ejaculated something other than opulence: clothes, cars, wealth, sex, gorgeous guys, all were in obscene supply by the way.

Then came the huge street battle thanks to Samantha and her oversexed self and the ladies in the abayas came to the rescue, shuffling our sisters into a store front or backroom, not quite sure which but it was pretty quaint. I thought here we go, a moment of shared sisterhood. What, if anything in the way of wisdom, would the Emirate sisters impart to our 4 gals from the city? What followed made my jaw hit the floor.

Here, when Carrie need to understand something about boredom and married, when Miranda was learning to stand up for herself, when Charlotte was learning that motherhood is not a veil that covers the rest of a woman’s life, when Samantha was learning that her vagina is not a commodity on the stock exchange, what did the director choose to do? He reduced the Emirate sisters to their under garments! Yes, people. The movie did a two-step, flipped over and stood on its head. The near lynching outside was forgotten, because after all that material is too heavy for the American audience to lift. It turned into fast food all the way as the ladies revealed that underneath the sweat black cloak they each one a part of the fall collection. Who cares what they were concealing this was a film women discovering themselves and walking in that discovery.

But the bigger question here was why? Did Sex and the City producers realize that by showing all these contradictions they were biting off more than they could chew? Or was it the realization that their audience probably didn’t want to deal with the material? I think the latter, so they gave us a comfortable end.

That said, when you really think about it, there was NO reason whatsoever that this film had to be in Abu Dhabi. If they had addressed the contradictions yes, but the location in no way moved the story forward. All the shit, including Hayden’s kiss could have gone down in death-valley or New Mexico for all we care.

* I will take this moment to say this. Compared to other Arab nations, Abu Dahbi’s dress code for women is pretty “lax”. But the reason I find this worth mentioning is because it is the producers of this film who made this an issue by having the lead, Carrie fixate on and make commentary about a woman in an abaya. Then they failed to give the subject the respect it deserved and simply swept it under the rug and ran out of the room. Simplify: If you can’t handle a subject matter, then don’t introduce it in your film at all.