Tag: sex

Be calm. Maintain your vigil. Show no signs of external panic, or your life is forfeit. Be very still and give no sign that you have read this: 

You are currently surrounded by boners. 

Boners are everywhere — tucked into every corner, lurking in every shadow. Every single man whose crotch you cannot clearly inspect right now is hiding an erection — possibly more than one erection. 

I am assuming this to be the case, anyway, since half of WikiHow is just panicky pages about how to defeat manmeat. 

Not pictured: How to Destroy An Erection, How to Dismantle An Erection Piece by Piece, and How to Banish an Erection to the Phantom Zone. 

Here’s how prevalent boner-stealth is on WikiHow: I’m not even covering either of those two pages. I’m covering yet a third page, How to Hide an Erection, which presumably concedes that you already possess an erection so mighty one can not defeat it in battle. 

Strangling your boner is a solid plan. I have no critiques here. Suffocation is generally a good way to kill things, from sleeping enemies to a boring sex life. But I will say this: Stop lying to society. Stop lying to yourself. If you’re wearing silk underwear, there is no such thing as an unwanted erection for you.

This advice is less solid: If you’re crab-walking through the subway wearing a hat like a codpiece, the best possible thing people will assume of you is that you have an awkward boner. The worst is that you are a performance artist who says shit like “society is my canvas.” If it looks like people might suspect you of being a performance artist, immediately stand and assure everybody that you just have a highly inappropriate erection. They’ll be so relieved, they might applaud. Your little guy could always use that confidence boost.

This one actually requires you to plan your whole day around hiding an unwanted erection. If you take a look at your weekly calendar and find that all of Tuesday is blocked out for you to ‘practice the art of slight-of-hard-on,’ don’t scribble ‘remember to wear long shirt’ beneath it — just reschedule. Sunday is a far better day for playing the secret sausage game. That’s God’s day, and it’s always a little sexier knowing somebody is watching.

Also maybe make sure your shirt isn’t emblazoned with a giant anchor that serves as nothing more than an arrow pointing at your poorly camouflaged dong. That’s a rookie move. What you really want is a long shirt with a cartoon penis across the bottom, exactly where your real penis would rest. That’s 4th-dimensional dick chess right there.

Be sure to exhaust your erection’s stamina bar first, or your cock may kick loose from the pin and hit you with a Reverse Powerbomb, leaving you staggered and weak to both charging and flying attacks.

Every one of these pages about how to do the worst magic trick dedicates a long section to ‘The Tuck.’ And that’s fair: It’s a solid move. The Tuck is the Reverse Powerbomb of getting arrested for public indecency. But these diagrams could use some work. For example, the above image does not illustrate The Tuck at all, but instead demonstrates how to use the tensile strength of your erection to fling small objects, like grapes or paperclips, at your attackers and/or potential mates.

I call this one “The Diglett.” 

I just took Diglett away from you. I just robbed you of his joy. I did that to you and there’s nothing you can do to make that untrue. Not even the strongest Reverse Powerbomb will return that innocence to your mind.

Roughly half of the ‘models’ on these erection-blocking pages are wearing cuffed jean shorts with heavy loafers, like some kind of Vacation Frankenstein. I will venture a guess and say that these dudes have only ever had unwanted erections, and I do agree that they must be hidden from humanity at all costs.

Listen, if you find yourself with a potentially embarrassing erection, don’t sit there making heavy eye contact while rubbing a Coke all over it. Now you’re ruining both male sexuality and canned beverages for the rest of us. Down south they call this move “the Kentucky Snowman” and it is prosecutable to the fullest extent of the law.

And now we have intentionally left our house with an erection, and are biking about furiously, taking our boner on a high speed chase through the neighborhood. This definitely gets you put on the sex offender’s registry, but they’ll have to catch you first.

Serious points to the artist for the placement on that bike seat, though.

A lot of the advice for murdering a boner involves inflicting weird pains and intricate shames on yourself for having them. Don’t do this: This is how you make new Quakers. 

Advising somebody to worry about bills every time they become aroused is how you train a pornography accountant. You might learn how to write off a dick piercing, but is it worth the cost? Everybody who writes a Wikihow page on how to thwart pantpoles was once caught with an erection in a cancer ward and is now projecting their shame onto the world.

Look at the Faulkner of Fuck here, “occluding” his enormous “glans.” Just call it “sheathing the machete” like the rest of us.

You fucking wandom. “Wow everybody, look at the pickle man doing backflips on a weasel!” This isn’t going to work. If anybody looks away, it’s only to avoid eye contact with you. That might technically get you out of this situation unseen, but fuck that. You haven’t earned this. Nobody look away! Do not fucking blink. Everybody watch the wandom crawl away, clutching his unwelcome wang in humiliation.

You know what they say: a warning is only ever there because somebody actually did it once. Some dim pervert stood up in court and insisted that he should not be on the sex offender registry because the internet forgot to specify that he shouldn’t masturbate in public. It worked for him that one time, and that’s why today we have Devin Nunes, but it will not work for you. 

Let’s wrap up with our most important tip: Don’t randomly rocket to your feet, boner bouncing from sheer velocity, and scream to the heavens like your partner was just gunned down by the mob.

That is a power move meant to kill the erections of every male around you and steal their energy to fuel your own massive, glowing lust obelisk. If you pull off this move, no force on Earth can challenge your boner unless you find a way to dissipate the energy. If you don’t use it within five minutes, you will burn up from the inside. Please instead read the WikiHow for How to Fire Off Boner Energy Like A Laser, but for the love of God — aim up. Space can take your dickblast; Nebraska cannot.