Author: Lydia Bugg
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As we all know, Star Trek is the horniest show ever to exist. Yes, there was once a show on HBO where the entire premise was this man has a large penis, and these are its adventures; it’s got nothing on Star Trek.
There’s an episode of Star Trek where a sentient cloud is in love with a man, but the guy isn’t into it because he thinks it’s a boy cloud, but when he finds out it’s actually a girl cloud, he’s like, “of course I want to fuck the cloud!” There’s an episode where a woman fucks a star ghost that her grandmother had previously fucked until she died. There’s an episode where a space captain turns into a lizard and fucks her subordinate, and they have lizard babies together. These are not the weirdest or horniest episodes.
So, when I say I’ve discovered the horniest deck of Star Trek trading cards, know that I do not take it lightly. When the Deep Space Nine – Memories From The Future trading card set was released in 1999 by SkyBox International, they tried to add a pinch of horny to the mixture, and the top came off the bottle.
Deep Space Nine is probably the least horny Star Trek. It’s a seven season long exploration of the horrors of war, with surprisingly few pauses for perversion, but every single time something vaguely sexy happens, it gets a trading card. “Bashir’s Fantasy” commemorates a moment in an episode where an alien race uses Deep Space Nine’s crew to study imagination by bringing things they imagine to life. And Doctor Bashir has apparently spent a lot of time imagining a super horny version of his crewmate, Jadzia. So this is a trading card commemorating what Bashir jerks off to and the time aliens told everyone about it. So many more important things happened in the series, but sure, we definitely need a trading card for the time Bashir got caught wackin’ it to his co-worker.
By far, the most wronged by these cards is DS9’s shapeshifting alien, Odo. Star Trek loves to invent new races of aliens and then immediately become concerned with how they fuck. Since Odo, in his natural state, is just a pile of goo, you would think the writers would leave their horny paws off of him, but that just made them want to see his goo dick more.
Lwaxana Troi is the horniest Star Trek character. (Again, this is a huge achievement. They are all very horny). Her whole deal is she can read people’s minds and constantly insists they are thinking of banging her. She’s immediately into Odo because she’s never had sex with a pile of goo before. In a pile of goo, yes. With a pile of goo, no. So she throws herself at Odo, and he’s like, “I um, don’t have a penis or any genitals at all. Not even a cloaca. Not even a hole for peeing. I can’t stress enough how much I am goo.”
According to Memories From The Future, Lwaxana’s aggressive harassment of Deep Space Nine’s constable is one of the GREATEST MOMENTS in the series. There’s an episode where Vulcan’s play baseball, and it got zero cards, but this set up for a sexual harassment case in space court got one.
Lwaxana popped in a few times and developed a friendship with Odo, but their relationship ultimately went nowhere because, again, Odo is goo. He sleeps in a little bucket, and you can’t have sex in a little bucket. The most erotic thing you could do would be to ram your fist into it and hope it didn’t kill him. That is until season 5, when the writers just had to see Odo fuck, so he lost his virginity to an undercover intelligence officer, and you bet there’s a GREATEST MOMENTS card for that!
Truly one of the great moments in Star Trek history. The one where Odo’s finally like, fine. You weirdo’s want me to get laid so bad, FINE. I truly have no idea if this should be the most or least popular Deep Space Nine trading card. Are kids like, “Hey, I’ll trade you Jadzia’s death for Odo’s virginity!”
“No way! I’d need at least three cards for Odo’s virginity. It’s the coolest one! Do you know how difficult true intimacy is for him, bro? He’s goo!”
The biggest villains throughout Deep Space Nine are The Founders, a group of shapeshifters Odo later learns are his species. They use cloning technology to dominate their quadrant with a powerful race of lab-made disposable soldiers. The word Founder appears in this GREATEST MOMENTS card collection exactly once, and it’s when Odo and one of The Founders have sex.
I’m not sure if this melting into a shared goo pile thing they do together is technically sex, but the face Odo makes when it happens says it’s fucking close enough. Either that or he’s having a really good pee as they meld.
The Captain of the Deep Space Nine has a girlfriend, Kasidy Yates, and they get married before the end of the show. But they both have regular genitals instead of mighty Morphin power genitals, so their relationship gets zero cards.
The woman Odo lost his virginity to was in one episode. Kasidy Yates is in fifteen episodes across four seasons– no card at all because nobody cares about boring human on human action. Anyway, here’s another card commemorating Odo about to get his bucket fisted:
According to this erotically curated collection, three of the greatest moments from this show also happen to be all three of the times Odo had sex. That’s a weirdly goo-horny perspective of Deep Space Nine. To whoever made this deck of cards, Deep Space Nine is the tale of a handsome shapeshifter getting it with a bunch of alien ladies. Oh, and occasionally other people have sex too.
I can’t fault anyone for choosing this card. It’s the first lesbian kiss on Star Trek! Good job! It’s actually one of the most important and iconic moments in the series! Is that why it made it into Memories From The Future? Probably not. This collection was just put together by someone who wanted to see girl-on-girl or goo-on-anything. At least they had the restraint to call the card “A KISS” and not “THE ONE WHERE THE SPACE CHICKS BANG.”
When you’re going through these cards, it gets to a point where you’re like, did anyone on this show do anything other than kiss and look at each other in a horny way? The answer to which is yes! There’s a whole war. There’s some stuff where the ship’s Captain becomes space Jesus to a planet of aliens, and it sucks. There are cool heists sometimes. But the GREATEST MOMENTS for some reason look like a photo collage from a fourteen-year-old girl’s Trapper Keeper.
Sometimes it feels like Star Trek only wants to explore one question about the future, and it’s “Can these two aliens bang?” The answer is always yes. The Star Trek writer’s room’s writing test is someone with the last name Roddenberry comes up with a freaky new alien species, and you have to tell them how you would fuck it.
Even if our faces look super different, we’re all pretty much the same below the belt. Maybe that’s the only message Star Trek is trying to convey. We can have a peaceful future through equality and acceptance, and when we finally learn and live those values, we can also have a big alien dick fest.
Lydia writes a lot about Odo’s genital situation on Twitter.
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This article was brought to you by our fine sponsor and Hot Dog Supreme, Hawk: Odo in the streets (man form), Odo in the sheets (goo form).
To explain to you what Poopsie Slime Surprise is would require me to understand them, and I can’t even pretend to do that. For some reason, around six months ago YouTube thought I might be interested in a video of cartoon unicorns in diapers and crop tops singing about how much they enjoy shitting. This is not the worst thing YouTube has ever recommended to me, and since it was not a man yelling about the Star Wars, I clicked it.
I became obsessed with understanding Poopsie Slime Surprise. What was it? Where did it come from? And most importantly, what rules and principles dictated its universe?
At its most basic, Poopsie Slime Surprise is a toy for children that allows them to feed a large plastic unicorn a bunch of chemicals, then rock it back and forth for a few minutes, then push its heart-shaped belly button to get it to take a big, slimy dump from its heart-shaped butt hole into a toilet that comes with it. Perfectly normal toy, right?
What baffles me is not the shitting unicorn, but the shitting unicorn’s many accessories, which seem to imply a wider Poopsie world. To understand the Poopsie universe, I first turned to the lyrics of their music video, which now has over three and a half million views on YouTube (comments are disabled though, no idea why). For some reason, Lyrics.com didn’t have the lyrics on file but don’t worry; I took the time to transcribe them myself.
It goes on, but there’s so much to unpack here. How does one “get loopy” off their Poopy? What could that possibly mean? Does it mean that they’re just so jazzed to have gotten the opportunity to poop? They live for the fleeting moments they’re shitting so much that it makes them loopy when that joyous time finally arrives? Or do they, like, get high off their own poop? I have to ask. What else could get loopy off my Poopy possibly mean?
Ok, so this is the other element that really rounds out the Poopsie universe. The one thing the unicorns love other than poop is brands. They use parody law to take iconic fashion brands like Marc Jacobs and turn it into Fart Jacobs, which would make sense if little kids had any idea who Marc Jacobs was. Otherwise, who is that joke for? All this does is create a generation of children who will grow up to one day discover Marc Jacobs and go, “Lol, that sounds just like Fart Jacobs from the Poopsie Slime Surprise dolls. Remember how fucked up those were?”
If you’re at a place no one can hear you, here’s the Poopsie Slime Surprise song in the only context that could make it worse.
It’s not just designer fashion labels that Poopsie Surprise parodies. They imagine a world where all food could be poop as well. You’ve got Caca-Cola, and for the weight-conscious slime shitting unicorn, Diet Caca-Cola. There’s also Poopsi, Whif Creamy Poop-Nut Butter, Rad Bum Energy Drink, Cacafina water, Dr. Pooper, Poozza Hut, In-Then-Out Burger, Poopda Express, Wipe Castle. I could go on.
It feels like some of these names were written by a comedian, and some were written by the boss’s nephew Kyle. In-Then-Out and Wipe Castle, I respect, but Starbucks, for instance, is just Barfbucks. Monster is Poopster, Arby’s is just Poopy’s in the Arby’s font. Again, I have to wonder what child wants to play with a parody of Monster energy drink? I mean, a friggin rad one who’s too busy doing sweet wheelies to follow FDA guidelines, I guess? That has to be the target demographic, right? Children made uninhibited by neglect and chemicals?
Monster isn’t the only less-than-kid-friendly drink in the Poopsie universe. They also have straight up alcohol for babies.
Yes, that is a play on Rosé all day. Can you imagine the uproar if all of a sudden Barbie came with a tiny little forty of Colt 45 and an itty bitty roll of duct tape so she and Ken can play Edward Fortyhands? We should at least hold poop monsters to the same standards.
Maybe the slime-shitting unicorns aren’t meant to be role models for the children? Perhaps the creators reverse engineered all of the fast-food into this world by asking themselves, “Why do these unicorns shit so much?”
“Oh well, they must have terrible diets, right? They’re, I guess, babies? Because they wear diapers, but also they are slamming fast food all day and washing it down with Monster energy drink and booze. That is the backstory for why the unicorns must constantly shit, and it’s simply the ritual derived from their natural habits of living like garbage that make them love shitting so much. Oh, God. They’re not babies at all. They’re full-grown adults who wear diapers because their diet necessitates it.”
I scoured the Poopsie Slime Surprise Instagram account in search of a vegetable, and all I found was this tribute to the death of Ruth Bader Ginsberg. This is real:
It seems kinda weird to memorialize a Supreme Court Justice catty-corner from a Poopnos big gulp spilling over with green diarrhea, but Poopsie can’t help but celebrate the death of any form of law.
“What if the shitting unicorns aren’t an aspirational toy for young girls but more of a cautionary tale?” I started to think. They could be a ghoulish parable of avarice. I decided to look for evidence this was MGA Entertainment’s thinking when they made these asshole-birthed dolls.
It turns out in 2019 there was a legal dispute between MGA and fashion brand Louis Vuitton over a poop-shaped Pooey Puitton toy purse from the Poopsie line. In their legal complaint against Vuitton, MGA said, “The use of the Pooey name and Pooey product in association with a product line of ‘magical unicorn poop’ is intended to criticize or comment upon the rich and famous, the Louis Vuitton name, the LV marks, and on their conspicuous consumption.”
Yeah, that’s right. This poop purse is activism. MGA is teaching children how ridiculous these so-called high fashion brands are through their seething parody. Chanel number 5? More like ChaSMELL number 2 amIright? Apple Bottom jeans, more like Apple BUTT jeans, hahaha.
(Editor’s Note: I want to do one. Salvatore Ferragamo? More like Save Tony He Fell in Da Goddamn Toilet! While I’m here, this poop article came together pretty well, Liddy. I’m having a nice time, and really learning a lot. – Sean)
(Editor’s Note: I should get in on this. Gucci? More like Poo-cci. That’s not Armani, it’s Fartmani. Buttberry, Fartier, oh no it’s in my brain. Sebastian Pee-or. I hate the thing I’m becoming. Yves Taint Laurent. -Brockway)
Except that if they are skewering the fashion brands by associating them with their terrible toys, it seems kind of weird they have Poopsie Slime Surprise Halloween costumes. What child is like, “Mother, I want to be the horrible shit unicorn for Halloween? May I borrow a bottle of RosĂ© to complete my costume? A six-pack of Red Bull will do if you don’t have one.”
It’s hilarious that MGA knew putting a grown child that can use the toilet in a diaper and a crop top was bad, so they just kind of stuck a picture of the unicorn on a dress, and that’s the whole costume. For a human child to get any closer to being a Poopsie slime surprise doll would be illegal.
So, since it seems unlikely the Poopsie dolls are meant to be horrible, gluttonous commentaries on American consumerism, what ARE they? Again at a loss for answers, I decided to look closer at MGA’s history in the toy world aaaaaand it kind of explains everything.
MGA is the company that owns BRATZ dolls, and they seem to keep Mr. Beaning themselves into weird sexual situations with their toys. Concerned parent groups have complained about BRATZ for years for dressing too provocatively so when MGA developed the LOL Surprise! toy line, they were very careful to dress the dolls more conservativ…oops, sorry no. They put them in full dominatrix gear.
The LOL Surprise! Dolls are supposed to surprise and delight children by developing new patterns on their bodies when dipped in water, and I’m sure whatever Mom pulled out a doll in Florida juice bar pasties was effectively surprised. Parents were not happy with this, but MGA didn’t give a shit.
Later the same year, they released the first male LOL Surprise! Dolls, and this time the surprise was a whole ass dick and balls. That’s right; they suddenly decided to make their dolls anatomically correct. Warning, doll penis incoming:
MGA responded to parents upset by the surprise dick by saying, “We currently have a notification on all packaging, website, and product retail pages that states the LOL Surprise! Boys are anatomically correct. After all, human beings are naturally anatomically correct.”
Ok, sure, but like, why just the boys? You may be shocked to learn that women also have genitals. The female LOL dolls have featureless holes between their legs like they’re rubber ducks. They have all the anatomical correctness of a liferaft emergency. Plus, the female dolls don’t come with the same warning of bad-idea genitals the male dolls do.
It seems like a pretty weird inconsistency to insist your male dolls must have their glorious ding dongs because, after all, humans are anatomically correct, but then when it comes to your female dolls, it’s “I’m sorry, what is a Laybeeah?”
This is not a feminist rant about doll dicks. It’s just another example of strange, inconsistent, poor decision making on MGA Entertainment’s part. Even the Poopsie surprise line has its own scandal!
They had a joke milk carton of 2% milk with a parody of a missing child poster on it, and already that joke is, WOW, dark, but they included a phone number on the carton that led directly to an active sex line. Can you imagine being the phone sex operator and getting a call about missing poop? You frantically google sexy poop detective to find, oh god, so many results.
These incidents led me to finally understand my questioning of Poopsie Slime Surprise is futile. It’s a shitty doll. Literally in both the sense that it shits and how it does not work very well. Consumers reported that it gets gummed up with slime easily, sometimes to the point where slime pours out of the unicorn’s mouth. The toy, without exaggeration, is so bad it shits out its own mouth while children try to play with it.
I will never get answers because there are no answers. Kids think poop is funny. It’s a unicorn that poops. Don’t look for meaning in the chaos. Just play with your unicorn shit.
You should follow Lydia on Twitter!
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This article was brought to you by our fine sponsor and Hot Dog Supreme, Pauli Poisuo: who also poops when you squeeze him, but it is not cute. Well, it’s a little cute.
Scholars often debate the best time period for literature. Was it the modernist movement with Hemingway, Fitzgerald, and Faulker? Or perhaps Romanticism, which saw great works from Poe, Shelley, and Austen? In my personal opinion, it was Supermarketicism, the period in the 1980s when tons of horny housewives discovered supermarket paperback romance novels.
It was a time of colorful language when the women were moist, and the men were musky. As these novels grew in popularity, more and more women decided to seek their fortunes writing them and to facilitate that, in 1984, Jean Kent and Candice Shelton wrote THE ROMANCE WRITERS’ PHRASE BOOK.
The tale of THE ROMANCE WRITERS’ PHRASE BOOK is outlined in the intro where the authors explain they had trouble getting published until they learned about “tags” — short one-line descriptions that up romantic tension in a book. So they sat around together whispering phrases like:
You know what’s sexy? Being imprisoned. This sentence somehow manages to remind me of both prison and spiders while attempting to make me horny. Jean and Candace bring that level of unsexiness to so many phrases in this book. For instance, almost every page contains the word moist.
Living moistness sounds like the title of an unlicensed The Blob remake. Nondescript! Nonperishable! Nothing may prevent it! Scurry, kids; it’s The Living Moistness!
It’s awe-inspiring how much this book uses the word moist. I could go on, but legally I can’t go on. If this article gets any moister, they are going to shut us down.
The language in the book isn’t just unsexy. Sometimes, it misses sense entirely. I get the need for metaphors in romance. It’s difficult to capture the feeling of falling love without using some kind of comparative language. It’s even more difficult to figure out exactly what this looks like:
What does that mean? Please, no one tell me. It sounds like this was written for a very specific slash fic of Dream and The Corinthian from Sandman.
He does tick a lot of my boxes… tall, dark, and has mouths for eyes. There’s just something about his smiles I find off putting.
Sensitive fingers could be kind of sexy, or it could be a rare disease killing the heroine in a regency romance novel. “I want us to be together darling, truly I do, but I have… I have sensitive fingers. I’ll be dead within the year. The doctors say there’s nothing they can do. My fingers, they’re just too damn sensitive.”
When the book isn’t coming up with confusing metaphors, it’s over-explaining the simplest possible gestures.
You mean, she smiled? That’s called smiling. We actually have a specific word for that very facial gesture because it’s kind of a big one. Also, I know they know what smiling is because there’s an entire section on it and this phrase is not in there!
I have to say there are some positive things this book tries to bring to the romance novel genre. There’s a certain way we portray men in romance novels, and it’s unrealistic. Most men don’t have six packs and also aren’t naked outdoors while using a fully clothed woman to hide their dick in a creative way.
The ROMANCE WRITERS’ PHRASE BOOK rejects this unrealistic portrayal of male beauty in favor of a variety of colorful descriptions for men.
Bow to your sweaty, fat-faced king, ladies. This is what inclusivity looks like! Boys can get moist too. I want to see this man they have created. I want to browse the supermarket and gasp at a nude Bob Hoskins-looking dude in a bog with a beautiful woman tantalizingly ignoring his dick.
Of course, women don’t get the same kind of diverse descriptions. We are “flowerlike,” our hair resembling “strands of lustrous glass” or a “golden mist.” Hair that is somewhere between fragile and nonexistent is an absolute requirement of romance novel heroines. We are “exquisitely dainty” while men are strong with “long sturdy Viking legs.”
So, now might be a good time to mention that other than this book about how to write a good romance novel, Candace Shelton doesn’t seem to have actually written any romance novels. And Jean Kent wrote exactly one. You can tell it’s lame because no one is even a little bit wet or nude on the cover.
Now, I don’t think this means Jean isn’t capable of writing some sexy, sexy stuff. The lovemaking section of THE ROMANCE WRITERS’ PHRASE BOOK has got some real gems in it, as you can imagine.
It’s got tingling. It’s got surging. It’s got groins! A term used exclusively by romance novelists and PE teachers!
I can’t imagine anything more soulless than a sex scene written with a jumble of cliches pulled from this book. Say what you will about Fifty Shades of Grey, E.L. James probably came up with 100 creative descriptions for the vagina alone. That’s what great romance authors do. I would say this book was cheating if it weren’t so so bad. It’s like cheating on a math test with the answer key for a Cosmo quiz. Fifteen divided by four is C; wait at least a day to text back. Make him wait, and he’ll be moist, moist moist to hear from you!
In the intro, Jean Kent describes these tags as “The difference between a cold, factual report and an eager, pulsing, sensuous story, that whisks the reader out of this world into a rapturous dream of wondrous love.” Truly written like a woman who has just discovered adjectives. Then she must have wandered into a publisher’s office and convinced someone to pay her actual money to write what can only be described as a trembling, surging, moist pile of words.
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This article was brought to you by our fine sponsor and Hot Dog Supreme, Rich Joslin: The moistest, dampest, just damn sexiest bogman in the Okefenokee swing scene.
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Nerding Day: Brides in Love
The story of Brides In Love begins where so many great love stories do– in prison. Charlton comics started when a guy who went to jail for selling books of song lyrics without the writer’s permission met a lawyer (presumably not a great one because he was also in prison). Together, they decided to start a publishing company that specialized in, among other things, comics for broads.
To decide on titles, they stuck the words love, marriage, teen, romance, bride, and secret into a sack, shook it up, and whatever popped out was the name of their next comic. What they ended up with were things like I Love You, Sweetheart Diary, Romantic Secrets, Romantic Story, My Secret Life, Just Married, Teenage Love, Teen Confessions, and Teenage Confidential Confessions.
I don’t know what gave Charlton comics the idea that this was what women were looking for in comic books. I would be way more likely to pick up a comic titled Teen Confessions: I Fell Into A Vat Of Nuclear Waste, or I Love You, and I Fight Crime, With My Six Extra Arms, or My Secret Life As A Six-Armed Monster Hunter.
However, a think tank of -certainly no women- decided that what ladies want in a comic book is a hero who is a woman, a villain who is her husband, and a solution to their conflict that is they have to stay married because it’s 1963. Instead of doing battle, they make up, and usually, the woman apologizes and admits that she was a dumb idiot all along. Then they all live happily ever after, which for them is, like, ten more years until they die of lung cancer, or gout, or one of those other diseases you get from having too much fun.
Since Brides in Love is an anthology series, we get to see this same scenario play out over and over again like we’re stuck in the misogynistic romance comic circle of hell– a magical land where a woman can go from wanting to end her marriage to being ready to apologize in one panel because she took a nap.
“I don’t know why I told my husband that I wanted to divorce him. Probably because I was on my period or some dumb shit like that; remember me from exactly two panels ago? What a friggin bitch!”
The story featured on the cover is called “JUST FOR KICKS,” but for some reason, they recolored the whole thing to change the woman from a redhead to a blonde.
The main character in it is super pissed at her husband because he keeps making her go to parties, and she’s tired. Which, wow, I would kill for 1963 problems.
One day she leaves her husband and goes to a hotel where she naps and eats a bunch. So basically, she’s living the dream, and all of the men around her are like, “A woman? Eating? Send her to the insane-atorium! Blast her with a firehose until the ghosts leave her uterus!”
But it isn’t a uterus ghost that’s making her crazy. It’s a baby, which is much scarier! She went to a hotel and ate hotdogs, not because she’s insane, but because she’s insane from pregnancy! Which is fine. When she finds out, she wishes her husband were there, and he is! He tracked her down and is standing over her bed in a posture that is not all threatening, calling her a little idiot.
It’s not just the writing that suffers in Brides In Love. They could have hired an artist who doesn’t use twins conjoined at the head as a model for two people kissing.
Seriously, that one is the most terrifying but all of the kissing pics have the same vibe as the drawings of elephants from the Middle Ages done by monks who had never actually seen one.
It’s like every illustrator for Brides In Love was a graduate of The Art Institute For Male Virgins Who’ve Never Even Met A Woman.
I look at this, and I can hear the artist saying, “Kissing? Sure I can draw kissing. That’s uh, um, that’s when the girl puts her whole mouth around the boy’s lips so that his mouth is in her mouth, right? No, I’m not sweating. YOU’RE SWEATING.”
This artist has a problem with mouths in general. For instance, there’s the last panel of the third story, which is about a woman who marries a much older man. Her new stepdaughter, who is her age, for some reason, refuses to call her “Mom.” The woman ends up inheriting a bunch of money, which she gives to her husband to help out his failing business. This convinces her stepdaughter she’s not a gold digger. Then they all do this for some reason:
You know, just a stepmom and her new daughter, hanging out with their mouths open and tongues slightly out. It’s like someone wanted to draw a comic for women but forgot women have eyes.
Since this isn’t your typical comic book, it doesn’t have your typical comic ads. Most of the ads in Brides In Love are for weight loss, hair extensions, and nursing school. But on the very back is the kind of insane ’60s shit that makes me vaguely miss a time when everything was legal. It’s an ad for a photography studio that promises to send you 20 coupons, and if you get them 20 clients, they will give you a live miniature monkey. The ad is sure to note the supply of monkeys is limited, which makes me picture a man sitting in a stinky room with nine monkeys begging God for some kid in Yonkers to sell enough portrait sessions.
Do I wish I were alive in the sixties? No. Nothing has made me happier to be born in an era where women have some creative say in their lives than reading this comic. But do I also wish I were alive in a time when you could win a free monkey from a comic book? Hard yes.
Lydia will send you a live miniature monkey if you follow her on Twitter.