Thanks to Ed who sent me this link to a very informative video about how astronauts poo in space. Hint: it's windy.

Join Lulu, Max, Eda Cherry, Amber, Ang, and I as we explore the emotional depths of doing some shit while you cry. Thank you, folks, for your contributions to this important piece of film art. It surely will be the most important film since that one where 50 dudes wazz all over a chick's gigantic fake cans.

More oddities from our visit to Unique Thrift in St Paul a couple of weeks ago. This happy little thing came with a mysterious inoperative button labeled "Re-Birth." In the belly was some sort of hatch containing a plastic ball of some sort. Despite our futile, frantic pressing of the Re-Birth button and attempts to pry open the belly hatch, we couldn't get at the secret egg ball baby. So we forced it to do dirty things instead.

This video is about a Nerf dart, but it's NSFW for reasons that will be immediately clear.

I first saw this Burger King "morning tongue" commercial in the last week or two. Normally I'm all for the perverse and subversive, but creating a commercial that makes an analogy between my breakfast and a tiny, erect penis-tongue coming out of a man's mouth does nothing for my appetite.

The 1941 Hollywood-produced sex ed film Know for Sure warned of one of the day's key dangers from loose women, syphilis. DUHN DUHN DUHHNNNNN!!! I've read at least one claim that the original, uncut version of the film contained graphic footage of syphilis sores on male and female genitalia, as well as demonstrations on how to use a condom, but I have no idea where that information came from. All I know is that according to this movie, syphilis is quite droll.

The title of the film is in quotes to let us know that it is the movie saying "know for sure." To emphasize that point, the cover of Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged is shown in the background.


The film opens with broad Italian stereotype Tony Madroni ruining his professionally painted store window signage by appending "& SUN" in slop wristed, childish handwriting. Someone from the crowd corrects his spelling, and though incredulous, he tops off his 'U' to make it an 'O' just as a Ghostbusters style ambulance pulls up, sirens wailing.


Tony welcomes the doctor and nurse eagerly and sends them back to the storage room where his wife is apparently going into labor on a palette of Blueberry Pop Tarts.


Tony wiles the time away by happily squeezing on a concertina. "I-a stay out-a here. I-a already a-saw my wife's-a vagina to make-a the bambino and that's-a more than enough." He then punches a hole in the brick ceiling to reveal a huge mushroom and 10 gold coins.


Soon the doctor emerges from the back of the store and nonchalantly lights up a heater. Tony's eager to hear the good news. Is it a boy? Yep, it's a boy. But he can sense the doctor's not telling him everything and presses further. The doctor, more interested in remaining in flavor country than exhibiting good bedside manner, bluntly tells the wilting papa that the baby was born dead and that it's because of Tony's syphilis. Oh snap!


"But-a doc, I no-a get it. I always-a wore the crucifix on-a my unsheathed cazzone when I-a put-a my pepperoni in all those-a ladies' pasta fazools."


Utterly distraught over the death of his child and the prospect of a lifetime of syph dick, Tony grabs a knife and makes a move to cut himself. The doctor intervenes and informs him that syphilis is curable. "That's-a nice!"


Tony realizes he should never have stuck the prices to all of his produce with his limp, oozing member.


Poor Tony. He forlornly surveys his window artwork dedicated to his late syph baby.


Evidently Tony painted the words onto the window with a mixture of mayonnaise and skim milk because several hours later, it easily wipes off with a dry rag.


Later, at the Venereal Disease Clinic...


Tony is utterly thrilled that Doctor Smokey McPuff referred him to this clinic. McPuff even comes to show his support even though he doesn't seem to work in this clinic. After shaking Tony's jacking mitt, the doctor washes his hands and throat in car battery acid.


Now McPuff goes back to visit the VD clinic's Doctor Don Shelby.

D. Shelbs orders the nurse to fetch a fresh syringe from the toaster oven.


For some reason, this guy seeking treatment for his sexually transmitted disease has no problem with a strange man in a suit sitting there and watching in pervy silence.


It is at this point that we are treated to the beginning of a recurring theme in this film -- closeups of hypodermic needles actually going into a vein. Why use special effects or camera trickery to imply insertion when you can zoom right in on the real thing. This is an important lesson learned by the porn industry around the same time.


The doctor examines his own penis to ensure he hasn't contracted syphilis from his parade of infected man whores.


Later, another young man comes in for treatment and is also given the needle closeup style.


The doctor is eager to explain the spread of syphilis, using his handy dandy chart to illustrate. "Now see here, Johnny. The darker figures are all of the women who have died since you infected them. The fat figures are pregnant, and the fat dark figures are pregnant with dead babies or are dead and pregnant with live babies who are soon to be dead. Now the green figures..."


Here the doctor and his patient reenact a scene from Sylvester Stallone's Over the Top. "Winner takes it all! 'Til he breaks the fall! In time he'll make it OVER THE TOP!!!!"


Doctor Shelby, aka Doctor Paxton, is a specialist in "men's diseases" like ball cancer and unlightable farts.


We're now treated to a montage of men engaging in risky behavior like visiting whore houses. Here the madame greets a long line of about forty men arriving for a gang bang.


"Howdy do, ma'am! Please direct me to the nearest vagina so that I may penetrate it with my heretofore undiseased male member."


Drat! Looks like sweater boy, who was holding the door open for the droves of whoremongers, got sloppy thirty-sixths. [sad, muted trumpet wah wah]


Poke! Who can get enough of needle closeups?


The end. Approved by Atlas, who is unable to shrug at the moment because he is addicted to heroin.

The ABC of Sex Education for Trainables is a film made in the 1970s for the purpose of teaching those who work with higher functioning mentally disabled people, or "trainables," how to engage in frank conversation about sex. I realize this was a different era with far less progressive views for interacting with the mentally disabled, but I'm not sure how the term "trainables" could have ever been acceptable for labeling a group of human beings. It makes them sound like Lunchables -- which are fucking delicious by the way.

"Hey, Gina! You want to trade your Ritz crackers with salami and cheddar cheese for my Down Syndrome guy?"

"Jesus Christ! What the hell is wrong with you, you insensitive prick?"

"What! What did I say? Is it a crime to like salami?"

The film opens with a girl who looks strikingly like a young Anne Meara walking down a quiet street on a cool autumn day.


Anne Meara today refuses to walk down quiet streets without George Costanza's dad by her side.


As the Anne Meara look-alike minds her own business, Ron Jeremy pulls up and starts flirting with her.


Ron Jeremy creepily plays with the girls hair, sucks his own dick, and invites her to get into the car. She compiles, presumably doomed to be molested and left naked and covered in greasy sweat and soggy Italian chest hair in a secluded cow pasture.


Now our host for this educational experience introduces himself. He is Richard Dix. It's OK to snicker once you realize that if his friends call him Dick that his name is Dick Dix. Seriously, what were this guy's parents thinking at the end of the Civil War? Just name him Cock Cox or Slitty Vagina Snatchface and get it over with.


Throughout Penis Penii's appearances on screen, the camera man insists on zooming ever closer to the study in entropy he calls a face. When your host is a hideous troll wearing a wig made of pubic hair, it's best to zoom in as tightly as possible on his chiclet teeth and angry, baggy eyes.


"Obey the Dickster!"


Next, we are taken to a group session where the narrator tells us that group leaders must get over embarrassment over slang words for sex and sex organs by immersing themselves in these words. The group leader calls for her crew of cheese-covered lunchables to give her terms they use for the penis, or human wang. "Prick!" one shouts out. "Peter! ... Cock! ... Rod! ... Dick! ... MEAT!..."


"Ding dong! ... Wand! ... " and on and on until the instructor becomes so horny that she tears off her clothing and invites the group to ejaculate on her, but instead finds herself covered in urine and chocolaty fingerprints.


When teaching sexually developing "trainables," it is vital to explain menstruation to the young women in detail. In addition, they must be shown how to use pads to absorb their menstrual flow.


This gets Roddy Hardrod hot and bothered. He stares in silence, straining for the perfect view.


Unfortunately Meaty Tubesock gets more than he bargained for when the next scene shows a young girl being forced to look at and TOUCH the instructor's used, blood-soaked pad. I AM NOT FUCKING MAKING THIS SHIT UP!


Next, a young man is lying in bed wide awake when Kurt Vonnegut arrives to ask him why he hasn't gotten up yet. The young man indicates that he's all wet and sticky. Vonnegut explains to him that he's had a wet dream, pats his penis reassuringly, then offers to regale him with tales of Dresden and time travel while he cleans the lad up.


A few scenes later, Vonnegut returns to have a frank chat about sexuality with George Burns.


When Burns attempts to light up a stogie, Vonnegut punishes him by forcing him to simulate jerking off a tiny drawing of a penis with his finger.


Now we find a young something or other clearly masturbating underneath the perceived seclusion of bedclothes.


A tight shot of the young person reveals that this is Detective Wheeler, a character who appeared on a single season of Law & Order: Criminal Intent.


Detective Wheeler quietly masturbates with the same blank, joyless stare while her partner isn't looking.


As the kid is waling away, his mother walks in on him. He sits up straight in bed, but apparently doesn't seem embarrassed about--oh, shit! This isn't a girl. It's a DUDE! Fuck, I already got all engorged under my own bedclothes. I feel... actually I feel just fine with this. [carries on]


His mother, following the course of action recommended by the narrator, calmly apologizes to the hot, womanly lad for bursting into the room without knocking. She also spends a good 10 minutes explaining to him that what he's doing is natural and thanking him for doing it in the privacy of his bedroom instead of while standing on the dinner table or during Communion. The boy continues to have the same blank expression on his face the entire time but surely is thinking to himself, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. That's great, bitch. I get it. Now shut your gerund hole and get the fuck out so I can finish rubbing this one out before you throw the next load of sheets into the wash. Come back in two minutes 'cuz I ain't sleepin' with a blotch of dried spooge chaffing my junk tonight."


Next we cut to a young woman doing arts and crafts in a group setting when she starts jilling off like she's trying to rub a stubborn grass stain off her clit.


The group leader, who apparently doesn't care that this chick's fingers are now all sticky with natural lube, grabs the young woman by the hand and gently reminds her that this is not appropriate behavior in public. The instructor turns around, and the girl's hand gets back to business. Again, her hand is forcibly removed from the warmth of her twitching cunny button, and the instructor gives a more stern warning about public masturbation.


"Essentially I get paid to prevent people from touching themselves. I actually went to college for this."


Following this display, we are shown a montage of naughty trainables touching themselves in public. One is arrested in front of an adult book store for spraying down the picture window and another makes his urinal neighbor very uncomfortable by giving him a one-handed back rub while giving himself a tug job. The molestee continues urinating for several minutes while leaning slightly way from his assaulter to show his mild displeasure at what is going on here.


Throughout the film, we are exposed to scene after scene of young people being forced to poke at drawings of vaginas, scream out obscene euphemisms, and get referred to as "trainables" and even "retardates." Yes, they actually called them retardates. How times have changed. These days, "trainables" live happy lives riding bicycles around duck ponds and masturbating in the restroom at Wal-Mart like everyone else. If there is a lesson to be learned from this video, it's that everyone enjoys being awash in the pleasures of an orgasm, no one should be forced to splash around in some chick's beaver blood, and if you interrupt someone masturbating, don't deliver a soliloquy from King Lear because there's a little trainable in all of us.

On the heels of Apple's MacBook Air comes this revolutionary new product.

December 14, 2007 to December 31, 2007

Even in an animated potty-training video the Japanese have mastered The Cute. I assume some of you already know how to use the potty but don't get distracted before it's over. Put down your chocolate pudding, though.

My favorite moment is the animated representation of a turd. I'd almost like to forget the techniques I've learned just so I can re-learn them with the assistance of this most wonderful video.

(via.)

File this under "I can't believe I haven't invented this yet."

This story is a couple of weeks old, but this may very well be the most incredible mane of hair I've ever seen on a man in the 21st century. Rock on, brother. Watch the video here.


Photo from KARE 11