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Tell Someone Who Cares

Men & Women

Ah yes, how would we ever survive without studies?

Almost half of husbands have no idea how often their wives orgasm during sex

  • Survey asked newly-weds how often they achieved orgasm during sex
  • As many as nine-in-ten men reported experiencing regular orgasms
  • Under half of women (49%) reported reaching the big O on a regular basis
  • 43% of husbands incorrectly guessed how often they satisfied their partners

My guess is that the 43% of clueless husbands are probably married to the approximately 43% of wives who just lie there like a bag of warm rice pudding during the act.  It’s hardly surprising that men have no idea about Madame’s Big Moment when she doesn’t share the adventure — or the lack thereof — with him.

I repeat (and not for the first time) the immortal words of Howard Veit on the topic:

Since when have we men all come to accept as fact that if a woman can’t enjoy sex it is the fault of men?  Bullshit.  It’s my job to show up at the party with a stiff dick, perform like a wild man for five or so minutes, shoot my baby seed into her, and then pretend I care for her.  If a woman can’t achieve orgasm it’s her fault.  I never have a problem ejaculating, ever.

Go ahead and read the rest of it, if you feel the urge [sic].  But you won’t learn anything other than the fact that men are pigs, men are stupid, and men are lucky that Madame ever makes her pudenda available to his foul animal lust.

And they wonder why porn is taking over.  From a very old Playboy magazine (speaking of porn):

Every man has been with a “Margaret” at least once in his life.

National Mockery: The Welsh

Funny Stuff, Mocking Furriners

As far as I’m concerned, making fun of foreigners is one of the best forms of humor, period.  It has a storied tradition, and the thing about it is that the humor often contains germs of truth, if not complete truisms.  Despite what today’s PC- and Snowflake generations may think, that it can be offensive is all the funnier.

When this guy posted a funny about the Welsh, apparently the sheep-shaggers took offense at the dig:

He was criticised by Welsh speakers, with Plaid Cymru leader Leanne Wood accusing him of ‘ignorance’ and a ‘lack of culture’.
Ms Wood tweeted him saying: ‘As the chair of the Barbican centre in London, why would you show such ignorance, spite and lack of culture as you have displayed in this tweet?
‘If it was meant to be a joke, it just isn’t funny. An apology would be good.’

Frankly, I think it’s hysterically funny, but it seems that I may be in the minority.  [#Don’tCare]

I’m therefore starting a category on this here website which does nothing but poke fun at furriners of all races, creeds and colors. (I know, this is not exactly a new concept on my back porch, but now I’m formalizing the thing.)  So on the subject of the Welsh, here’s another one:

And from the “What Did You Expect?  They’re Welsh! ” Department comes this wonderful headline:

Football superstar Gareth Bale calls OFF wedding after fiancee’s father was jailed, brother-in-law died and grandparents got caught in bizarre feud over suitcase full of £750,000 cash (AND after they tried to hire Beyonce as the wedding singer)

I supposed Tom Jones was already booked.

Feel free to add your own Welsh (-only) jokes in Comments (and as always, don’t be shy — as long as it’s funny).

Next time I’ll pick on another nationality.

And by the way, just in case someone is curious:  there will be no apologies in this department, ever.

Afterthought:  Alert Reader KyleM tells me in an email that the pic is incorrect:  if that were truly in Wales, it would be the shepherd shagging the sheep, not his sheepdog.  Kyle gets a Kimbo Award for making me spew my morning gin all over the keyboard.

Moving Day 2

Housekeeping

…and Kim’s relocation continues today:

Actually, just one final load:

…I wish.

Why did the move take three whole days, with a day between Day 1 and Day 2, you may ask?

(Picture is fake, but accurate.)

Also, by Sunday morning I was exhausted, so I took most of the day off.

Moving Day 1

Housekeeping

So I’ll be moving into my new apartment later today, with the kind assistance of friends and family:

That’s not everything, of course;  the contents of Ye Olde Ammoe Locquer will require a separate trip:

…and needless to say I’ll be moving the humble remnants of my once-extensive gun collection myself:

Oh, stop it.  Remember that in Texas, this is referred to as a “starter” set.

The big stuff — furniture, appliances etc. — will get moved on Monday.

And speaking of assistance:  if anyone cares to spare some couch change to help me defray expenses, your generosity will be much appreciated.  This “starting afresh” business is expensive.

That’s More Like It: Carnoustie Bares Its Fangs

Sports

It seems as though the Carnoustie weather only gave the players a false sense of security on Thursday, setting them up for Friday.  And it worked.

The vast crowds were not dodging imaginary lava, of course, but rain. Real rain. The sort of rain that turns course maps into mulch and makes bunkers look like mud. “I’m waiting here,” said one glum spectator, who had joined a swelling mob of clambering fans in watching a big screen from the comfort of the Open’s food tent. “I’ll have to go out later.”
…
By mid-morning, the food hall was part-cafe, part-viewing gallery and part-changing room. Those wise enough to bring waterproofs had found a place to pull them on, while others had been drawn to the smell of bacon butties. One woman, clearly unmoved by the prospect of exchanging her warmth for live golf, was simply reading a book. Another spectator told the Daily Telegraph that this was his first trip to the Open since Royal Troon in 2016, when the rain fell even harder. “At least I got a free course map,” he said.
It should be made clear that this weather is not unusual. This is Scotland. It rains. Get over it, right? But it was still hard to avoid the contrast between this misery and the opening day here, when Carnoustie provided a passable impression of a Mediterranean beach resort. On Thursday, the better-hydrated spectators fell asleep on the oversized, inflatable cushions. On Friday, those cushions drooped mournfully in the dirt like a herd of tired walruses.
…
It could always be worse, as they say, and it has been far worse than this at the Open. The conditions were so bad during the third round of the 2002 tournament in Muirfield that Trevor Immelman, the South African player, said he thought the world was going to end.

That braying sound you hear is Kim laughing uproariously.

(And thanks to Reader Pkudude, who sent me the link.)

Irony Alert

Funny Stuff, Health

So former supermodel Elle McPherson is dating a doctor.  Ordinarily, I would not care, and nor should any sentient human being.  But this is not just any doctor, oh no — as the Daily Mail  breathlessly informs us:

Elle Macpherson, 54, is dating discredited former doctor Andrew Wakefield, 60, a driving force behind the anti-vaxxer movement when his debunked theory linked the childhood MMR jab to autism

…and of course there’s a pic:

…which makes me think:  while I certainly do not wish any harm on the Oz bint, wouldn’t be wonderfully ironic if by kissing this charlatan, she contracted a serious yet preventable disease?

(Side note:  kissing with eyes open? eewwww)