mating habits


It happens to all guys, sure, but not being able to perform in bed has left many men feeling like they could die of shame. But it turns out, that sensation is not actually shame – it is probably just a heart attack! Okay, it’s a heart attack with a side of shame.

In a totally uncalled for addition of grave injury to demeaning insult, a recent study by German researchers indicates that erectile dysfunction may be more than just an embarrassing problem in the bedroom. Men who suffer from ED are twice as likely as their more virile counterparts to die of heart attacks or cardiovascular disease. They also have a slightly increased risk of stroke, just for good measure. All of which just seems kind of shitty and unfair to dudes who have enough problems already, but there you have it.

Great. Someone gave wingnuts a video game, and of course it’s the one with with hot, gay, man on elf action. There’s also potential for lesbian sex and, yes, boring old heterosexual shenanigans in the game, but somehow it doesn’t seem like people are getting too worked up about those options.

They are, naturally, terrified that, in addition to shut-ins or gun-toting sociopaths, video games now have the potential to turn their kids into gays. Or, presumably, elves.

I will take just one moment to take issue with the characterization of the hijinks available in the game as “dirty ‘gay’ sex” by conservative freakout machine WorldNetDaily. Gay sex maybe, but dirty? Look, folks, I just so happen to know one hell of a lot about elves, having spent significant portions of my life poring over scholarly tomes devoted at least in part to elf culture and biology. And I can tell you this – if you had sex with an elf, gay or straight, it would be the cleanest, daintiest most dignified sex you had ever had. And also hot. That’s just a fact.

Mark Foley has a new radio show! You remember Mark Foley, right? He was a Republican Congressman from Florida who got caught red handed and rosy palmed exchanging sexually explicit emails with an underaged former page.

But that’s okay, because he totally loves God and stuff! You’ll get to hear all about what an awesome guy Mark Foley is if you tune into his new radio show, Inside The Mind of Mark Foley. Though for squeamish listeners, you should be reminded – the last time anyone went inside the mind of Mark Foley…well, it got a little blue.

While nations across the world marked the 70th anniversary of World War II, Bush apologist and Rumsfeld groupie Victor David Hanson used his National Review column to ask the question that was on absolutely nobody’s mind  – Was WWII ultimately worth it? His perhaps surprising answer? A strong maybe.

But thanks to German AIDS awareness group Regenbogen e.V., that’s not the dumbest piece of WWII related news this week. The group is responsible for what purports to be an AIDS awareness commercial supporting their “AIDS is a mass murder” campaign that is actually a steamy sex tape which is totally hot until you realize the dude in it is totally Adolf Hitler. Who is…apparently giving someone AIDS? I guess. Anyway, not cool, Regenbogen e.V.! Now I’ve got a half stack over history’s greatest monster! How am I supposed to be okay with that?

“The campaign is designed to shake people up… Because anyone can become infected,” states the Regenbogen website. Even Hitler. And also, according to their accompanying posters, Sadaam Hussein and Stalin. The message that the group, which is totally not trying to be controversial for the sake of directing publicity towards themselves, comes through loud and clear – people with AIDS are evil and genocidal. And have facial hair. But mostly are evil.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – if I could, I would vote for Silvio Berlusconi for everything. Not for anything – for everything. From dog catcher to DA, this is the guy I want in charge.

I want my country run by a guy so bad ass that when the sex tapes come out, they come out in volumes. I want a guy who responds to said sex tapes not by apologizing or vacillating or doing a lot of soul searching, but by saying “I’m no saint.” Next question, motherfuckers.

I want to know the man in charge of my nation loves him some three way, is pro-masturbation, and names his beds after fellow world leaders. I want to know that he is hiding archaeological sites on his palatial estate so he can brag about them to the call girls he hires to come to his parties. Come to think of it, I want a leader who can hire escorts and then not even feel obliged to sleep with all of them. And who can, rumors say, help them try to run for political office, which is a nice thing to do. Though, considering that Berlusconi continues to claim that he has never paid for sex, and complaints heard on the tapes seem to verify that ‘in the Putin bed’ wasn’t wasn’t the only way that The Italian Prime Minister was stiffing his escorts, it would seem to be just about the least he could do.

Mark Sanford, John Ensign, which ever Republican legislator is going to become embroiled in a sex scandal, you should all take note. Next time you get caught with your pants around your ankles, and there will be a next time, do the right thing. Man up. Say “Yeah, I slept with that prostitute. And what’s more, I was great.” I think we’ll all respect you more for it.

Hey, remember how Mark Sanford was eager to get back to the business of running South Carolina? Turns out the best way to run South Carolina is from Europe.

In further proof that when the lord made Mark Sanford, he made a ramblin’ man, the beleaguered South Carolina Governor arrived in London yesterday. And with his family in tow, no less! It’s the beginning of  a two week sabbatical that marks Sanford’s third trip out of South Carolina after turning “hiking the Appalachian Trail” into a tawdry sexual metaphor just a month ago. According to his staff, Sanford “will be in contact with other state officials and staff throughout the trip, and will continue conducting the business of the state.”

And after he gets back, all this messy affair business will have blown over, right? After all, what better way to help people forget about the intercontinental jaunt you took to nail your exotic mistress than too take a widely publicized international jaunt for the sake of (presumably) nailing your legitimate wife? Flawless plan, Mark. I’m sure this is the last you’ll hear about your wandering eye. And wandering penis. And wandering pretty much everything, come to think of it.

Meanwhile, in news from the opposite corner of Republican Sex Scandal-vania, John Ensign is hemmhoraging senior staff. His communications director Tony Mazzola announced his departure yesterday, following Ensign’s now former chief of staff John Lopez in a rush to the private sector lifeboats.

For every American, the Fourth of July is supposed to be a day to take pride in your nation’s accomplishments. A time to reflect on all the great things the USA has done, to contemplate how lucky you are to be American. A moment to reflect on American supremacy in all things military, and then to blow something up because you can.

Thus, it’s with a pride swelled chest that I relate the fact that the American military has something to be proud of today. After years of walking around with our tails between our legs over Tailhook, the United States no longer has the world’s most shameful naval sex scandal.

Instead, that dubious honor now hangs heavy around the neck of the Australian Navy, whose sordid tales of betting pools around sexual conquests aboard the HMAS Success really take the cake in the realm of tawdry and unbecoming sexual escapades at sea.

Love Boat?

Love Boat?

Details of the story are still emerging, but early reports indicate that male sailors had set up a complex system of competition, with cash rewards granted for bedding their female shipmates. Each woman on board was assigned a cash value, reflecting the perceived difficulty of persuading her to make the beast with two backs. But the shameful antics don’t stop there. Further bonuses could be accrued by sailors for having sex in a strange place on the ship, with a higher ranking officer, or with a lesbian – though there’s no word yet on whether these bonus multipliers stacked, Scrabble style, making sex with an officer in an odd place worth even more.

And while the American military may still have some shameful moments in it’s past, we can safely say that none of our soldiers or sailors has ever paid a comrade for having sex with a gay lieutenant on a pool table. That we know of, anyway.

And that’s something I think we can all be proud of.

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