Categories
FUCKING DAY

Fucking Day: HOW TO SATISFY A WOMAN EVERY TIME… and Have Her Beg for More! It Really Works! The First and Only Book That Tells You Exactly How 🌭

HOW TO SATISFY A WOMAN EVERY TIME… and have her beg for more! It Really Works! The First and Only Book That Tells You Exactly How is a 39-year-old book on farming orgasms written by a Christian actress after three sex partners. There’s no way to frame it in a way that will prepare you for how inadequate it is. It’s 123 pages of nothing. It’s the loose thoughts of a wad of brain being beaten out of a horny donkey with a shovel. If you’ve ever fished an object out of a cup of pudding, you’re more qualified to write a sex manual than Naura Hayden.

More than anything, this book about dominating your wife’s pussy is about Naura Hayden. She included what is, without question, the most uniquely indulgent author bio any book flap will ever harbor. It lists every media project she’s ever been attached to. It brags about how she met George Kennedy among many others. It praises her charity work, a foundation which donates her personal vitamin energy shakes to insane asylums, which is not a joke. It lists her height and weight along with the name and breed of each of her pets. It mentions how gorgeous she is, and how truly awe-inspiring this all must be, and I still haven’t made a joke. You can see it here!

You might be wondering who this amazing person, who just taped two pilots, dedicated their fuck advice book to. It’s so grand in vision, so beyond crotch understanding she couldn’t dedicate it to something as small as the two penises that taught her so very little. No, the credit needed to go to something more magnificent. Love itself? God Himself? Holy shit, you guys. Are you thinking what 1982’s Naura Hayden was thinking?

On the very first page it’s clear Naura is a gifted writer. The way she dances between tones and subjects is masterful. I can only aspire to craft transitions so perfectly. Poop goes in the butt, every day 16 million children go to bed hungry. The best type of pizza is Birthday, God created the vaginal canal for the moist tubes of Man. Sorry, I’m terrible at this. Let me show you how the master does it:

That violent whiplash between God’s precious gift of sex organs and how every woman fakes orgasms sums up the entire book. I could stop now. Naura is obsessed with herself, fake orgasms, and the Lord’s role in real ones. Let’s start with a story about the two more important ones, fake orgasms and herself:

This book was inspired by a talk show appearance where she broke the news that all women fake orgasms but in her book Isle of View (Say it Out Loud), she revealed the secret technique to cause authentic ones. And when you tell Kansas City morning show viewers you know how to fuck, it turns out they have some followup questions. So after hearing about their interest, she, in a move I do not find suspicious, wrote this book to reveal the secret technique she claimed was in the other one, the one with the fucking stupid goddamn title for idiot babies. So let’s hear it! How do we get these ladies climaxing?

Wait, there are some things to cover before we get to the sex tips. First, Naura wants to talk about all those books on how to fuck men. Maybe you’re familiar with them, but I’m probably a leading authority on vintage fuck literature, and I don’t think Naura is right. For plainly obvious supply-and-demand reasons plus the ones she mentions, books about pleasing men have never outnumbered books on seducing women. Trust me, if there were hundreds of ’70s books on how to work a dick, I would own them all and they would be the main talking point of my library. There would be a day on this website called Beefstroking Day, and Brockway would call dibs on it every week.

And one more thing about this clipping– I know some of you saw Naura’s comments about how easy it is to jerk a guy off, and you’re reacting with the classic argument, “What if he’s not healthy!?” Guys, she knows it takes a little extra effort with a mentally or emotionally sick penis. She’s held three of them.

Okay, you’re ready to learn the m– oh, she has a little more to say about fake orgasms.

Think how earth-shattering these comments must have been to Naura’s former lovers, whoever they were. Wait, hold on. According to her Wikipedia, her husbands were a restaurateur named John Harrison, a TV executive named Gary Stevens, and a lawyer named, oh wow: Theodore Geiser. So at least one of these men thought they knew how to fuck because of Naura’s breathing quickening, hard nipples, etc., but they were wrong.

These fake orgasms are a symptom of something Naura calls THE BIG BANG THEORY. It’s her painfully researched study about the effectiveness of getting the walls of your cervix slapped by an angry dick. It’s kind of funny, but by this point in the book, Theodore Geiser, Esq. had probably figured out who she was talking about. I imagine he was like, “Welcome home, Naura dear. How was your day? Oh, yeah, I saw you mention on Wake Up, Kansas City how you don’t actually like the way this sweet monster hits the back of that pussy.”

If any of you men are confused, Naura came up with a way for you to simulate sex from a woman’s perspective with your own arm:

I have nothing to add to this. Like every TV host who saw her explain sex by punching her own arm, I’m amazed.

The next part of the book is… I guess you’d call it “supporting data” for her BIG BANG THEORY. It’s a collection of Penthouse Forum letters and erotic novel excerpts that feature the act of “banging.” I’m not leaving out any important context. This Christian woman who hates rough sex stopped her book to showcase a whole bunch of hardcore, hole-pounding assplay fiction.

Her point is, she doesn’t think any of this would work. So now it’s time to m– wait, it looks like she has a couple more pages of examples.

There’s no way to know this for sure, but if I was a woman of God whose tender flower could only be gently pleased within the sacrament of matrimony, I wouldn’t have included a Penthouse letter from a sex criminal who loves to cripple buttholes with his ten inch hog. But you see her point, right? Some people, like anal maniacs hiding their identity from Penthouse magazine, don’t know how to please their wife. Naura wisely moves on from this stran– oh, it looks like there are a few more clippings she wanted us to see.

She does this for eight pages! EIGHT PAGES. It’s very important to Naura that we know people bang. Well, probably not Name and Address Withheld, but somebody is out there banging and/or pumping, and Naura says they’re amateurs. Pornographers and perverts wish they knew as much about getting their dick wet as this devout poodle owner.

We’re now 40 pages into the book, so it’s time to learn how to please a woman. First, though, we need to learn how to do foreplay.

Finally, the good stuff! There’s about two pages dedicated to foreplay techniques such as not touching her nipples or avoiding her nipples. And I don’t know if this means anything, but she dedicated four times more space in her book to reprinting dubious butt assaults from porno magazine letters sections.

I know it’s been hard getting here, maybe a little bit disgusting, but we’ve made it to Chapter 3: The Main Event. This is where Naura will tell us the secret techniques she’s developed to satisfy a woman every time. Let’s do it!

You know, first we should remind everyone of how women fake orgasms since it’s the only way to end the boredom and pain of sex. Sorry, let’s get you back in the mood. Imagine I’m scratching a part of you that isn’t an erogenous zone like an itch. Barely. Ready? Oh, yeah, you’re ready.

So Naura follows up the sweet suffering of almost nipple touching with the gentle titilation of almost sex? I guess this could work, sure. Why not? Let’s see some of her other moves.

Oh. Oh, this can’t be right. There’s only one move, and it’s not having sex until she wants to have sex and then verrrrrry gently having sex. I promise I just describe things faster than her and I’m not leaving anything out! The only advice she has, literally, is slowing everything way down and nothing else! She’s out of moves! Even after dragging things out like Theodore Geiser, Esq. on Valentine’s Day, the section on her secret fuck techniques guaranteed to satisfy a woman every time is one technique and six pages long. That’s two pages shorter than the “Ass Destroying” section of a Christian woman’s Penthouse scrapbook.

Like Theodore Geiser, Esq. after five hours of playful exploration, I’ve never seen someone so drained of ideas. When Naura started this book did she know she only knew one thing? Was she expecting it to take longer to explain it? A Ukrainian condom wrapper comes with more sex advice than this. I’ve had Six Flags employees strap me into a roller coaster with more genital expertise than this.

So we’ve covered how all orgasms are fake except the ones coaxed out of a shoal by a patient fisherman. We’ve read some very upsetting pornography. And, of course, we learned how to penetrate a woman like the limit of a function as x approaches 0. It’s time to move on to Chapter 4: What to Do If Your Man Won’t Even Try (For Women Only!). In this chapter, Naura reprints quotes from The Hite Report: A National Study of Female Sexuality about why women fake orgasms.

Again, I wasn’t kidding. Naura depleted her one sex move, so she’s starting over with her original thesis: no woman has ever taken a skillful lover. Let’s see some of these unattributed quotes from a different book!

Sounds reasonable. Oh no, it feels like my brain is trying to imagine the sex life of this woman who ends her lovemaking with either no orgasm and an argument or just no orgasm. Does she tell the marriage counselor about this? Like when they explain their main source of conflict, does her husband say, “We mostly fight about whether or not she cums. She says she never does, but that’s because she doesn’t listen to my side of things.” Oh no, now my brain is picturing the husband explaining to the kids that his work friend Big Frank is here to help mommy sleep. He’s just going to watch. Stop! This won’t save your marriage! Oh no, now my brain is picturing what kind of life Big Frank has that he’s okay with this. A SeaWorld lawyer!? And they think he is stealing the wife’s shoes? Ugh, how long was I gone? What’s today’s date? No, not the day, the year!

This is sort of a sweet reason to fake an orgasm I think everyone can relate to. Like when your friend asks you if you like their hat and you say, “Yes yes yes YES BABY GET IT DADDY YES YESFUUUUUUUCK!”

This lady was told by multiple male doctors to fake orgasms. There’s no reason for them to bring that up. Which means for 35 years she told everyone her husband couldn’t fuck except her husband (bless her).

Sure, he makes love like a chimpanzee destroying a rival’s nest, but he’s got enough to worry about at work. His partner Big Frank has been acting really distracted and they blew a big case. You know how SeaWorld can’t feed stray cats to orcas anymore? That’s his fault. So yeah, maybe now’s not a good time to tell him, “also your dick sucks.”

“My husband and I are weirdly self-aware of our problems and the motivating forces behind our failures. It’s also possible we’re completely fictional and the person collecting quotes for their 1976 national sex survey made some of them up. But of course anyone doing that must suffer from an intense fear of inadequacy and have no foundation of ethics and oh wow, so much of what I do makes sense now. Um, um, said the lady faking the orgasms!”

Jesus, this is dark. I think I prefer the asshole rampaging stories from Name and Address Withheld’s Penthouse Forum letters. I’m going to skip past the other nine pages of these to get to the stated goal of Chapter 4– what can you ladies actually do about all these angry, gameless limpdicks you married? Does Naura have some kind of secret move you can do on your end to cause an orgasm? She does!

Unfortunately, it’s exactly the same move from earlier, only in reverse!

Look, wives, I’m as disappointed in you that there’s only one sex move, but this seems doable. When your confused husband isn’t teasing you, help him out by grabbing hold of him with your thighs and forcefully pulling his penis out of you. It’s the universal sign you want the loving to be more tender and intimate. Maybe? Naura is only positive about one thing:

Naura is sure there’s a God, but it might be more of a ghost or a Giant Self? It’s the only thing in her life she knows, is the point, and she isn’t sure what it is or what you’re supposed to call it. Again, dry wives, I don’t know why she keeps bringing it up, but she worships just kind of a something, and it’s with all her heart. It’s good Naura demonstrates this kind of wisdom here because she’s done everything she can for you physically. It’s time to fix your joyless sex life with some of her more intellectual solutions.

I wouldn’t have thought of this if I was writing a sex book, but the expert Naura says one way to achieve orgasm is to concentrate on memories of being hugged by your dad. I have no jokes, I simply disagree.

If the dad thing doesn’t work, good. That means you can try some tips from Chapter 6: Fantasies. Now, wait, these aren’t games or role playing scenarios for you and your lover– they’re things you can imagine he is doing while he hopelessly porks you. For instance, and forgive my raciness, would you like to get spanked? Too much? Alright then, gently spanked.  Okay, maybe not even gently, but can you pretend he’s spanking you? Fine, maybe lose the imaginary spankings altogether and you just picture the idea of being with someone who might consider spanking you. Mmmm, there it is. Enjoy.

This dingbat is making fun of how square Casper Milquetoast and Wilbur Wimp are, but she’s the one who had to deliberately train her imagination to hold the image of a spanking three layers of abstraction away from reality. A real woman could picture Casper Milquetoast and Wilbur Wimp on either side of her, filling her with a combined twenty inches of pumping meat while she begs for them to punch her. Do you recognize my writing style, Naura? You unknowingly quoted me seventeen times in your chapter on Penthouse letters!

So this other woman Naura knows fakes orgasms has a secret tickle fetish she hasn’t told her husband about so he has no idea how to make her happy or why she laughs during sex? I know how this is going to sound, Naura, b-but maybe the problem is you?

Of all the completely true things I’ve told you about this book, this is the least believable one: over forty pages of it are dedicated to vitamins. Aside from the last 14 pages being an unreadable scan of a fan letter she got, the rest of the book is an ad for her energy shakes disguised as nutritional information.

The goal of Naura’s book is to give you orgasms, and almost half of it is dedicated to telling you how many Naura Hayden Dynamite Energy Shakes you should give to your children. It has the Other Minerals they need! This is like a dream. I set out to make fun of a sex author for being bad at sex and found her telling readers how much snake oil their kids need per pound.

Let’s end with one of Naura’s perfect, unmatchable transitions.

In a book about orgasms, one sentence away from where she calls Vitamin E the “sex vitamin,” and in the very same paragraph, Naura sells you on it with the story of an Argentinian doctor who discovered you can give huge amounts of it to children with congenital diseases and it doesn’t even kill them. Fuck. Fuck.

I understand explaining what happened here will be complicated, but if you’re brave enough to bring up the subject of fake orgasms, Christian sex vitamins, and special needs children in the same anecdote, you can now confidently tell anyone you’ll ever meet you know the name of the least effective sex manual. Because it is, without a doubt, HOW TO SATISFY A WOMAN EVERY TIME… and have her beg for more! It Really Works! The First and Only Book That Tells You Exactly How by Naura Hayden.


This article is brought to you by our fine sponsor and Hot Dog Supreme, FancyShark: Who really works! You’ll beg for more. The first and ONLY FancyShark that tells you exactly how.

Categories
FUCKING DAY

Fucking Day: Wicked City

So real quick: I want to talk to you about something in that scene from Wicked City, the 1992 live action adaptation of the anime movie about businessmen fighting demons. You know which scene I mean — the really hot sexy one.

No no, not the one where the businessman starts to bang a prostitute and she transforms into a fleshspider and tries to kill him. Iconic sex scene, for sure. Up there with Basic Instinct — that closeup on sweaty Wayne Knight ogling crime vagina? 

You can’t tell me that turgid Newman shot doesn’t rumble your grundle exactly as much as a murderous sexworking were-spider. I won’t believe it.

No, I’m talking about the scene where-

Oh what, the power station power bangfest? 

No, I wasn’t talking about that one but I feel you — an underrated scene for crankin’ one out. 

I mean, when they both cum separately on the power lines, and then they link up and ride the lightning to screw sideways on the fence? 

That fucked up puberty for our entire generation. 

Right?

I mean, to this day all I have to say is “power station” and most of you will have to grab a fork and excuse yourself to the bathroom. A minute later the lights will flicker and you think you’re sly, but we all know what’s up.

No, I’m talking about the scene with the lady who turns into machines-

Yeah, her. I don’t need to tell you which of her scenes I’m talking about. That was so hot. Remember when-

What’s that? No, not the pinball machine multiball multi-orgasm bonus round. 

Stop jumping in! 

Although, I mean, come on-

That was intensely erotic. 

Like nobody can mention Wicked City without talking about how they want to stick their dick in the coin slot of a Cactus Canyon, or morph into Shaq Attaq for a good slide-railing. 

How he thrusted along with every paddle flip? The way she talked dirty, all painted up like a pinball backdrop? Look at the detail work! See that ‘POP’ to her right? More like “I’m gonna pop!” See the grizzled old man to her left wishing her “good luck on the mission”? 

More like “good fuck on the emission,” am I right? 

I’m not?

Shit, whatever. I wasn’t even talking about her getting pinballed but-

No, you’re right. It does go on for a long time. 

The movie demands we pay attention here, cutting away to several angles just to really explore every dimension of a demon lady pinball machine getting creampied. Her little pinball paddles flipping, her little pinball legs lifting in the air. 

It is a thorough scene. And I’m glad we talked about it but-

Okay, I get it. 

You really want to talk about this scene because it goes on for a crazy amount of time. Way longer than you would think, even when I said before that it went on for a long time. The movie really, deeply explores which bumpers exactly make her cum. I bet you could recreate this layout, hollow out a little space for a partner, strategically place a hole, map those cum-bumpers to like a series of strategically placed electrodes and-

Look, let’s get back on track.

We had to talk about it. It’s like three straight minutes of pinball fucking and it’s hard to just glaze over that. You were right to insist on exploring the whole thing before we get to the scene, but now we have to get to the scene.

You know it. Backwards and forwards. Inside and out. It’s our generation’s coming of age moment – the one that shaped our fetishes for decades and the reason all of us, every one of us here right now, are on the OTIS blacklist.

I’m talking about the elevator scene. 

I love how you think you know where it’s going — our business boys got on an elevator they weren’t prepared to fuck their way out of. Rookie move! 

Man, when we first realized the elevator was actually the shapeshifting machine girl’s vagina, and she said “welcome to my body?” 

Haha we had to use the stairs for weeks just to get anywhere without stained pants. 

Then they started firing their pistols into her fleshy elevator walls — the idiots! 

Everybody knows shooting an elevator only makes it cum.

There was this feeling in the air, the first time we watched this scene, that it was almost inevitable. The zeitgeist had been creeping ever closer to fuckable elevators for years — “Love In An Elevator?” That little slut who goes “every direction” at the end of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory? The most iconic scene in The Shining — we know what that’s about now, right? Red Wings ain’t just a quality boot.

But we needed this one bold innovator to take us over the line. We knew what was coming next. We were ready!

We thought we were ready! What absolute chumps we were.

We were totally prepared for two salarimen to gunfuck their way out of a vaginal elevator. We weren’t prepared for the head demon to rip his way into the elevator, kick our business boys out, and say-

I remember every kid leaping to their feet in the theater, all shouting along with Machine Girl-

God, we thought we were about to watch a middle-aged man get crushed to death in the powerful vaginal walls of an elevator demon. 

And that’s not NOT erotic. 

But it wasn’t the scene we were hoping to see. The disappointment was palpable, and then he dropped the iconic line…

I have quoted that line to every lover I’ve taken since. 

We’d been dancing around the overt sexualization of this scene up until now — she never called the car her vagina. She never said those bullets were making her cum. The old man didn’t say “Go jerk it on the escalator, boys, it’s me who’s gonna fuck this elevator.”

We really thought they were going to play it classy, leave it up to our imaginations until he said-

What a bold proclamation!

That’s the elevator-fucking equivalent of Babe Ruth pointing to center field. You call that shot, you better back it up. 

AND THEN HE DOUBLES DOWN.

I remember being so confused here. 

You gotta think back: This was so early in the days of bangable machine women, we had no idea what the rules were. We kinda forget that this is where the lore was laid down — this was actually the first movie to establish that if you nail a shapeshifting techno-hussy hard enough she has to change into the machine you want. 

This is where that came from!

That next scene, though. The turn. Holy shit!

It was like being in a theater for the chestburster scene in Alien. You just had no context for what was about to happen. How it was going to shape pop culture from that point forward.

When we smash cut to an empty office building and-

VROOM! 

The king of the demons comes flying out of the elevator shaft, seat-fucking the holy shit out of a writhing motorcycle woman! 

I know everyone my age has this scene tattooed on the inside of their heart, but even the kids these days sort of know it. It’s just one of those things — like maybe you haven’t seen Raiders of the Lost Ark but you get the nazi-melting references other movies have made. Gen Z might not have watched Wicked City, but they know all about motorcycle-fucking from that joke in SpongeBob, or the “Ride That Bike” dance in Fortnite. The Dream wrote “Yamaha” all about this specific moment-

Where he just pins her throttle and zooms her around for a while. Her just screaming and cumming while he slaloms her between pillars until she loses control of her body and starts bucking and flipping all over the place-

So he gives one last real good thrust, which turns into a wheelie! 

To this day I am a little disappointed when I give a particularly good thrust and it doesn’t result in a wheelie. It just feels like the logical conclusion of a thrust now, doesn’t it?

Also what a gentleman, telling her she has “a good response.” 

This is where that line came from, kids! If your dad ever tells your mom she has good handling, and she coyly responds that it’s due to her rake and trail, this is what they’re talking about.

Like all great cinematic romances, this one ends in tragedy. They were enemies, remember? So even though they shared this intense connection, it can only end one way: With him ghostriding her off a skyscraper and her exploding before she even touches the ground.

I’ll never forget the way King Demon turns to the camera and grins.

And the way she screams about her machinery being broken — you know what she’s talking about. Quentin Tarantino wrote that famous monologue about this scene in Reservoir Dogs 2: Who Let The Dogs Out?

God, we went into this whole elevator thing thinking we knew anything. What we wanted from a sex scene, where we’d put it if it happened to us (Door Open), even who we were rooting for — we thought Elevator Girl was the villain! 

This movie changed things. For all of us. To this day I can’t trust a goatee and I get aroused at a failed kickstart. You know what I mean, you’re right there with me. 

Anyway, that scene. That’s the scene I wanted to talk about. I just wanted to ask – when he’s racing her around the pillars, you can see he’s floating gears and there’s an audible thunk on the last downshift. Do you think that’s like hitting the cervix?

Categories
FUCKING DAY

Fucking Day: What I learned About the Female Sexuality from Feminism Author Jill Emerson 🌭

Yes this is a new thing for me to be able to type not just in the comments maybe some of you know me from their but if you don’t my name is sissyneck. I don’t remember how I heard about this hot dog kickstarter but probably i was on my grandson Traytons’ fire tablet after a few busch lites and the next thing I know these nice people starting sending me emails every day and some of them were pretty funny! I e-mailed them back everyday to be polite for about 3 months but I don’t think those were going through so now i push the button at the bottom of the email and try to do my part in the comments and now they said I could write more here!

Well What i preciate most about this outfit is that while we’re waiting for the hotdog machine or service or whatever to get done they have people write about things you might not have seen in the world and that is called exploration and growing your perspective so I thought I would share a thing in my life that has made me think different, for me. And maybe it can for you too:

So it is books that has been one of the biggest types of exploring for me since I was little even back in Tumwater, WA. mostly back then I just read a book if it had a dog in it like Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing had a dog named Turtle! So i checked out another one by the same lady called Then Again Maybe i Won’t and there were sadly no dogs BUT there were parts in it like when a boy is interested in girl parts and also has to hide his own parts one time in class that I did not know would be in a book. And it sorta made me think some things I thought only happened to me maybe happen to other people and books might have value more than “this boy right here is a great dog.’ For example recently i have been learnin more about what my wife Larene’s life is like and in ways different than my own. Like when we watch true crimes she is sometimes bothered more or differnt than me cuz lots of times its the bad things happening to women more than man and she is my Dear Heart and I thought I would try to learn more about that kind of thing and use books. I started with my favorite author Mr Stephen King and re-read Carrie to learn about periods and hairbrushes and a couple The Girl With The Dragon Tattoos books to learn that a girl can have a autism too, and accidentally once got 1Q84 (I meant to get 1984 because everyone always says “this is like 1984” so much i wanted to know why) and so that was another one with a autism but now in Japan. But then when I was kinda trying out talking about some of the things i learned from these books with LaRene like isn’t it interesting that women describe their own breasts to themselves all the time and she kinda snorted and said “That sounds like what men THINK women do.” And i realized most of my learning about women was coming from A Male Gaze and i should read more what a WOMAN has wrote. 

So next time the bookmobile came i specially looked for female authors and found one called Enough of Sorrow by female author Jill Emerson and I learned a lot i thought. AND it was pretty dirty but LaRene and i have gone to some of the StrongMarriage classes at the church here and even though it was in church they still talked about sexualities and it ain’t about ashamed like it used to be in church now you can have Open and Curious With and About Your Partner’s Sexuality so i don’t feel so bad about having dirty books anymore.

So I kept looking for more books from Jill Emerson and they was all pretty good even this one that looked like it was maybe a CBS show. 

But i was confused about why they started to say a man’s name on the cover too and why you see a lot of pictures of this old guy when you look for pictures of Jill Emerson.

But it looks like he writes other books.

And i figure maybe he’s her agent and it’s like when those sumbitch nashville producers gave themselves a songwriting credit to get more money so i’m onto you Mr. Block.

So now i just read another one by Jill Emerson that had a interesting cover and holy cow i learned just a bunch more about a womans sexuality that I NEVER knew and the book is pretty racy so even though i want to share about what i learned with you all and practice Open and Curious it is as the lady said a Ongoing Process so I might have to do a lil censoring sometimes which i will do with this what the HOTDOG artists made for me:

Well Getting Off is about a woman and she changes her names a lot and I don’t wanna do actual spoilers so let’s just say she has many “encounters” in the book but along the way I learned about Femininity some of these things:

On snacks: 

For Breakfast:

Soft Drinking:

Dining Out: 

Exotic locals: 

French History:  

How to navigate tricksome cultural differences: 

Racial sensitivity: 

Mormons again: 

The last mormon one: 

And here we learn about when theirs no guys around what might happen with-

How they talk:

How they enjoy vehicles:

What they do in there in the bathroom: 

This one there were a few things in this book i thought probably most woman would NOT like in a sexual way but Jill has assisted me to check my assumptions for example-

Bad smell in a sexual fashion:  

Not changing clothes and bad smell:

Untidy environment and bad smell agin: 

Bad smell one more time: 

Bad smell and okay maybe he just died all this time: 

So here we see that if we can learn more about the enrich flavour of all humanity if only we take the time to listen to people who are different than us. Imagine how limited I as a Man would be if I just only read about what other men thought who women are or maybe what they hope they are because of their own shortcoming and insecurities and I just hope we can all seek it out. Dont have to be books even movies can help or video games or hell just a cup of coffee at the maverik with a new friend thank you In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

Categories
FUCKING DAY

Fucking Day: Fabio After Dark

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Categories
FUCKING DAY

Fucking Day: SEXERCISES 🌭

In 1967, a very cranky Canadian fitness consultant with a master’s in philosophy wrote a book about calisthenics you can do to improve your dick stroke. He called it, fucking what else, SEXERCISES.

Don’t let the bland, featureless cover fool you. This book is no fun. But it is weird, and that weirdness is already on full display before Edward O’Relly, M.A., M.S.P.E. is even done with the dedication:

The first thing Edward O’Relly, M.A., M.S.P.E., tells readers is, “I dedicate this book to my four children and my wise, satisfying decision to show them how to fuck.”

If this man told me, “I call my sons-in-law every night to confirm my daughters’ pelvic bowls brought them to climax,” I would say, “Yeah, that was in the subtext of your book’s dedication, Ed.”

You’re going to think I’m making this up, but the first 40 pages of SEXERCISES are a mean-spirited essay on why sex is useful and how mechanization is killing it. It’s a joyless hate letter to you soft failures and your unporked wives. The book jacket sells this like it’s Jumping Jacks for Lovers, but before he gets to that, he needs you to understand sex as a concept. As a biological imperative. Look at this fucker go on and on:

I’m not kidding when I say this is the majority of the book. This overschooled PE teacher sat down to write an erotic fitness program and couldn’t resist the urge to start with the very birth of the meaning. SEXERCISES is more than anal contractions; it’s the story of the first fish who crawled from the sea to invent premature ejaculation. He’s also got a quirk you see in hack writers where he rewords the same idea over and over like his dumb reader just isn’t getting it. Like the first fish who crawled from the sea to just fuck up something that isn’t that complicated.

Every page of CHAPTER 1 is a less readable version of Edward’s same two points– sex exists and you’re just hearing about it now. So let’s move on to CHAPTER 2: WE HAVE BECOME A RACE OF SEX CRIPPLES.

Ha ha I wasn’t kidding about the title. Edward is what you might call a Mediocre Supremacist, but he might be overestimating how much better he is than everyone for sometimes taking the stairs. Anyone who types, “escalators are making legs almost useless,” has deluded themselves into thinking they live in a world where their mere adequacy makes them a god. It’s worth reminding ourselves this book was supposed to be about fuck exercises, and an old man is complaining, incoherently, about all these traindebobs and autowhatsits that do all the hiking for you. I mean, what’s next? Wheeled shoes? Delivering mail over the radio?

Let’s move on to the next part of the book, which isn’t about ways to tone your body for intercourse, but about whose fault it is that the intercourse sucks.

I was excited to read this book. I got all dressed up for it. I am wearing gym shorts, a sweatband, and a condom. But this isn’t anything. This is a bad workout and worse couples counseling. Edward O’Relly has written a book for grumpy Luddites who want to think three minutes of side bends every morning make them elite specimens and champion lovemakers. But, sigh, since we’re here, let’s read more about how marriages work.

I don’t want to brag, but I knew this guy was going to hate women when I saw it was a 1967 book about sex. Though I didn’t know the “well-known fact that many men who are actually impotent with their wives are not impotent with other women.” I assumed when your dick didn’t work, you didn’t take it with you on clandestine dick missions. Sorry, this blows my mind. Canadian men were stepping out on their wives in the ’60s with medically floppy penises and someone was collecting boner data on it!? Science is amazing.

Looks like this man who thinks it takes women “weeks or months to reach orgasm” is still assigning blame for the sex being bad, so let’s skip ahead to the next section called… ha ha ha, no way. FLABBY BODIES DETRACT FROM SEX ENJOYMENT.

This book is incredible. He diagnoses the sudden trend(?) in admiring hot people to be our fat collective’s “subconscious reaching for something we know we are losing.” This confused and horny nerd writes like he got his master’s in P.E. without anyone ever reading one of his papers. He just said (eleven different ways) that sex was fun and we were wired for it, and now our interest in fuckable people is a psychic cry for help from our once visible abs? And did this pretentious son of a bitch say the Romans “substituted slaves for muscles, and were destroyed from within by the slow corrosion of luxury“!? Jesus. He sounds like Jordan Peterson explaining to a waitress how critical race theory and the unmopped floor of the International House of Pancakes means he is owed a free dessert, nay a duo of such.

You should always be suspicious of below average white people who hold themselves this high above society, but did he really say the main problem with slavery was how it sapped the can-do vigor from once great men? Aren’t we supposed to be learning fuck situps, and oh my god, he’s complaining about mechanization again.

I think this is what happens when white supremacists think about things too long. They figure out they are even more superior if you’re allowed to count animals. Ed doesn’t care what scientists say, he is so much better than stupid handless, footless dolphins and has twice, nay triple of such superiority when comparing himself to a pathetic everythingless snake. And I guess he makes a good point here that, before he gets to the sexercising, fuck snakes, right? Hey, snakes, grow some goddamn brain-directed feet or get the hell out of this competition. Escalator-users, same deal.

We might as well get warmed up. Edward talks the reader through something he calls RUNNING IN PLACE. Edward has some kind of post graduate degree in gym class, but the aerobics in his book are what you’d expect a mermaid to come up with on her first day with legs. Basic isn’t a strong enough word. This is more like the chosen Basic destined to meet the minimum requirements for the most general of knowledge, sent here from the Planet Duh on the Starship No Fucking Shit. Suck my relaxed, unpumped dick, Edward.

Let’s move on to some jumping ja– wait, no, to something Edward invented called ASTRIDE JUMPING WITH ARMS RAISING. After all, this is a sexy book, so things should have sexy names. And if you’re feeling adventurous, here’s an Expert-Level Edward O’Relly Workout Tip: exercise is harder when it’s harder.

Honestly, I’m just as disappointed as you that this is just the half-remembered PE program from Edward’s whites-only elementary school, but at least we’re up and doing stuff, right? The book seems to be done with the dry philosophy on the psychic causes of lady frigi– oh, damn it.

Don’t give up yet, intended audience of SEXERCISES! Edward has finally, officially decided you understand how much better he is than TV watchers, train riders, The Romans, and all animals without hands. He’s ready to discuss how fitness can help your lovemaking. First, he notes how weird it is we don’t train our women how to take a dick, and then, as is his way, notes again how weird it is we don’t train our women how to take a dick.

It is now chapter SIX of the sexual fitness book, and we’ve discussed slavery, impotence, and porpoise intelligence, so we have the foundation necessary to learn our first sexercise, “THE VITALLY IMPORTANT PELVIC THRUST.”

For the men, this chapter of SEXERCISES is all about pumping that dick. Standing erect against wall, standing erect away from wall, wherever. Pound that shit. Blast that shit. And there are pelvic tips for the ladies too!

Like the handless porpoise, Edward doesn’t expect much from women.

The male routines are all the same– get a firm base and do your best to slap yourself in the face with your dong. Fuck and thrust! Just violate the negative space around you like an existential sculpture.

If you’re a lady, we’re going to mainly focus on different ways to rest with a hole aimed upward.

Keep pumping, men! Hit! The! Back! Of! It!

Same for you ladies. Go for it.

Really pound it in there, fellas.

Ladies, you have your role to play too.

Pelvises are not merely a tool for in-and-outing. Try fucking the ceilings and walls of the thing! There are no wrong directions, men!

You can try too, ma’am, but please don’t strain yourself.

Most books wouldn’t take the time to illustrate a STANDING GLUTEAL SQUEEZE. A single, still image of a clenching butt is so magnificently of no help to anyone. It’s like offering a drowning man a photo of a clenching butt.

Women, maybe try lying down and flapping your feet back and forth? Men, let’s let that cervix know it’s in a fight.

Don’t stop now, men! SEXERCISE!!

It’s so magical that some asshole in the ’60s, with an educational background seemingly built for it, decided to design a sex-specific workout and the best he could do was “dick pumping for the fellows” and “advanced laying down for the ladies.” Our poor grandmothers must have thought sex was just some nightmare you had to endure to keep a father in the kids’ lives.

You might be thinking from all those pictures of an active-crotched man and a napping woman that this finally switched from a condemnation of modern living to a workout book. No. Edward still had a lot to say about you lazy, pathetic members of society. You garbage pieces of trash probably won’t even do these routines, no matter how great the benefits. Oh sure, you women jump right into a robust regimen of SITTING, HANDS ON FLOOR, but before long your fanciful sub-porpoise mind is distracted by the modern trappings of books, crossbowing, or the automobile.

Don’t scroll down any further, I want to see if you can guess the ending.

Now, the obvious way to end an article about sex exercises, especially ones where the men do all the work and the bored women hate it, was the premature ejaculation gag I already did. I’m not better than that, but I really wanted you to see how Ed finished his masterpiece. Scroll past the girl getting her ovary pump on to see the final page in its entirety.

Out of respect for Edward O’Relly, M.A., M.S.P.E., I’m going to end this article the same way he ended SEXERCISES: abruptly and with penis kegels. Hrk! Hrrk! Hrrk! Hrrrrrk! Hrr–


This article was brought to you by our fine sponsor and Hot Dog Supreme, Dan Bush: who is a 7th Dan master of Pelvic-Ryu Karate and learned nothing today.

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