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Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Get A Big Score Going Down
(inspired by the previous post by the Battleship)


You want to keep the shaft stiff and straight.

You've heard of the Medicus, right? No? Well, obviously you're not a golfer. The golf swing may look easy on television, but the slightest imperfection in your stance, balance, or tempo will translate into a shitty golf shot. If your grip is too tight or out of position on the club, you will fuck your shot up. If you break your wrists too early on the takeaway, you will fuck your shot up. If you do a side bend during your back swing instead of pivot your hips, you will fuck your shot up. If you start your downswing with your hands instead of your hips and shoulders, you will fuck your shot up. There are countless ways to fuck up a golf shot. This is why the average golfer score is somewhere close to 100 and why they throw clubs and swear violently during rounds. You can have the greatest drive you've ever had and if you fuck up the next shot you can still end up with a triple bogey.

The Medicus is one of many golf training aids designed to build muscle memory associated with a proper swing plane at the proper tempo. It looks like a regular golf club except for the hinge in the middle of the shaft. It is designed so that with a proper swing, the hinge in the shaft will not break. It teaches you that the golf swing should be completely in a plane that is roughly like if you had a big sheet of glass standing up in front of you at where the ball is teed up, parallel to your shoulders, and then was allowed to magically fall through your head to rest on your shoulders. All of your swings would be such that your club would glide against this big sheet of glass. The hinge will not break if the club is in this plane through the swing and the tempo is smooth and the wrists are loose. This forces your hips to make the proper pivot and all the other shit. I wholeheartedly endorse the Medicus as a quality training aid.

Like the golf swing, cunnilingus looks easy in pornographic video but the slightest imperfection can leave you stuck in traffic downtown, ordered to pull over to the side of the road, or forced off the road due to a broken down tongue. While a poor technique may still be enjoyable for the cunnilingee, it's not going to take her over that rainbow. It's not going to result in her making you a fresh batch of cookies.

Unfortunately, I grew up listening to, among other genres of music, gangsta rap, which didn't exactly glorify the cunnilingus. It certainly was not part of the seven habits of highly effective gangstas. Gangsta rap, however, did make it clear to females that fellatio and scrotum licking was a highly marketable skill for bitches and hos to possess. So while great advances in fellatio were made in the g-funk era, cunnilingus was probably set back quite a bit.

While I consider myself to be somewhat proficient at this endeavor, I by no means consider myself an expert. I understand that like the golf swing, both tempo and the length of the swing are important. Inconsistent tempo can leave the vajayjay confused or even frightened. Going too fast or two slow is undesirable. But how fast is too fast and how slow is too slow? What is the ideal coverage zone? Sure, you could just ask, but what self-respecting male wants to do that?

What we need is a training device for our tongues. A Medillingus. It could be sold along with a practice range (fake pussy). It could function by beeping in a steady rhythm when your tongue is doing what it should and make a buzzing noise, like the one in Family Feud when you give a shitty answer, when something goes wrong. This Medillingus would promote muscle memory associated with positive responses in the vajayjay. As a cunnilinger's technique is honed, his intake of from-scratch chocolate chip cookies and intensive reciprocation will increase, which he will find pleasing. Perhaps eventually there could even be video games like Golden Tee at taverns where gentlemen could demonstrate their cunnilinging prowess, which may or may not lead to increased take-home action from the bar.

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Monday, December 25, 2006

Happy Sky Point Day!



The airlines have a dirty new trick, or at least it's new to me.

I woke up on Christmas eve at 8, finished packing, and hurried to Mt Vernon Square to catch the yellow line to Rontonimo Reagan National Airport to make my 10:30 flight. Boarding started around 10:05, as scheduled and we pulled away on time. Then, we sat.

We sat for about 10 minutes with no word from the captain, then he announced that the weather was such in Ft. Myers that we would not be able to land as there was a big backup. Huh? We hadn't even left and it was a 2.5 hour flight...wouldn't it be clear by then? Whatever, you can't get pissed off about the weather. What you can fucking get pissed off about is how they definitely knew about the weather situation when we were sitting in the terminal and still boarded us.

I wondered why they would do that to us for about an hour before figuring it out. By pulling away and then parking us, they still get credit for an on-time departure. How they are allowed to do this, I have no Idea. I can understand them not wanting to have a late departure on their permanent record, but fuck them for making us suffer. And fuck all of the parents who patronize their shithead kids by talking really loudly to them in public. And fuck the stewardess who didn't have time to bring me a fresh magazine that didn't have the sudoku already done. Maybe the reliability metrics of airlines should not include weather delays or forced cancellations.

Not a whole lot to complain about after getting down here.
-went to beach yesterday. water was very warm. we saw a sea horse flopping around that had been washed ashore.
-food has included tilapatia and beef tenderloin. lots of snacks and home made cookies too.
-got some very nice gifts, including my first ever ipod!
-played golf on Christmas before thunderstorm started.

My parents have an unhealthy obsession with the weather. They watch the weather channel for a half hour at at least five separate times of every day. At all times they know exactly what the weather is in Florida, Michigan, DC, and Seattle, where my brother and sister in-law live. Next 36 hours? Check. Dew point at each location? Check. I have learned to not get annoyed at this obsession or how they point out and make fun of the obese to themselves at every opportunity.

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