I’ve started to lose my edge. I’m mellowing out. I’m treating people better and looking at things from their point of view. Looking at them like fellow human beings with valid feelings and emotions that I can relate to. It’s making me sick. I have been contaminated by all the humanity around me despite my best efforts. I didn’t want to do this, but I have no choice but to take drastic measures to erase this moral growth. I am getting a teddy bear.
What else can remind me of the abundant stupidity of humanity than it’s inclination to present a murderous machine of claws, teeth and death as a fluffy, cuddly children’s toy? What other reminder people’s lack of self-preservation do you need than the feelings of tenderness that arise in them and the hugs they readily dish out when they see this crude voodoo doll of a literal monster. What other species has evolved to train their young that a rough likeness of a predator is something to be cherished? Clearly mankind is social engineering its own demise when this is what our offspring are raised to adore.
But more than that, the reason a teddy bear will keep me on edge has less to do with what it symbolises and everything to do with their looks.
With their never blinking beady eyes that stare right into your soul. Their blank expressions that give no indications as to what might be going on in their wooly brains. Their ability to keep forever still, and yet to never be exactly where you left them. Night after night, they allow themselves to be held close by children and adults, never complaining about how hard they are squeezed or how roughly they are handled. Just watching. Always watching.
But I know better. I see the malice against us building up in those unblinking plastic discs they have for eyes. And the longer they wait, the more sinister and diabolical are the plans that they lay for the utter annihilation of the human species, if not the world.
“So how does getting a teddy bear help you keep your edge?” you ask with the kind of sharp wit a brick wall would look down upon.
It’s blindingly obvious. I will have one to keep my eye on. To keep me vigilant. By keeping the enemy close, I will have a constant reminder of not only the threat that comes from them, but also that mankind isn’t worth saving because it can’t see what is so glaringly self-evident. And there is no need to care for what can’t be saved. And while the teddy bear might think of me as unsuspecting prey, it’ll serve me as an early warning system for when the takeover starts. When it rises up to take my life, all I’ll have to say to it is…
If there is one thing that should be clear by now, the crew here at DNFTB are all extremely, deeply religious. In our own very special and personal ways. We have a faith that is rooted firmly in the sarcasm organs of our souls. So deeply personal are our convictions that they never show up in this episode. Millions of people believing in the Old Voyeur In The Sky doesn’t stop us from exploring the good, old fashioned gambling, incest, rape, (possibly) the first instance of victim blaming and unfortunate comparisons.
Prepare your souls, the righteous DNFTB fires have come to cleanse you minions!
Just like in prison, your hierarchy in the workplace can mean the difference between good living or spending your time as everyone’s doormat. This has little to do with your actual position, but everything to do with your place in the eyes of your fellow inmates/coworkers.
There is no magic formula that can guarantee alpha status but here at DNFTB, we are committed to giving our devout converts helpful hints that will set them on their way to
successful brainwashing and joining of our cult happiness. In no particular order, they are:
Step 1: Always maintain eye contact.
This is very common advice, but the most common mistake is that people are too afraid to take it to the next level. Truly committing to maintaining constant eye contact is what it means to be top dog.
What does next level mean? It means staring directly into someone’s eyeholes while you’re both at the urinal. The fact that you can pee while still holding your coworker’s gaze shows your confidence in the control you have over your bodily functions and that you’re not ashamed of it, unlike most others. If you’re using the stalls, leave the door open so everyone can admire your excreting technique and learn that you have transcended the base concept of shame and are no longer under its power. When they see you seated on that throne, looking straight into the windows of their souls, the only feeling they’ll get (apart from nausea and after complete disgust) is a grudging respect for doing what they have no hope of ever pulling off.
Step 2: Constant nipple play and/or crotch massaging
Most people hate their jobs and all they want to do is suffer through the 8-9 hours of grinding slog to get back to their “real” lives. But for the alpha, pleasure in your work is a constant. And the pleasure is not just intellectual or emotional, it is also sexual. Constantly playing with your nipples while hard at work (pun intended) is a sign of above and beyond commitment to your job. If you’re still not feeling the connection, try rubbing your hand over your crotch for that extra sensual stimulation. Do this during meetings and when having conversations with your colleagues to display that extra level of engagement. Showing just how much you enjoy the work you’re doing is not only a great way to find enjoyment at the office, it is also a surefire way to impress your higher ups. Even they don’t enjoy their work that much, I can guarantee.
Step 3: Make your presence felt
Storm into board meetings demanding to see the quarterly reports. Barge into client presentations to vouch for the integrity of the sales team. Offer unsolicited advice whenever you come across people deep in conversation. Kiss everyone on the cheek (gotta be respectful), no matter how many times you run into them. Come into work on casual Fridays with a full suit, only bottomless. Whether you choose to wear your special lace panties or go commando is up to you. These are just a few ways to make sure you’re on everyone’s mind. The alpha’s presence in a room is always obvious, but there’s no harm in being blatant about it, just for the benefit of the few numbskulls who can’t take a hint. This also helps to reinforce your dominance with the rest of the pack. Show them that you’re the only cat in this rat race.
While definitely not comprehensive, applying these few steps to your daily professional life can lead a long way. It’s all about mixing them up and coming up with your own style of implementation that suits you. Ham fisted application will only lead you to rubbing people the wrong way. Whether it’s sexually harassing the janitor to show workplace enjoyment, or blackmailing your supervisor with pictures of him and his mistress to make your presence felt, make sure to put your own personal spin on it. Be the most stand out individual you can be. This is what being an alpha is all about. Success will follow naturally.
About a week ago (cue shmoney dance), Rigathi was dragged into the ALS Ice Bucket challenge and being the charitable bastard that he is, he decided to drag me down with him.
So here’s the video of me doing the challenge.
NB: My pre-emptive defense for the little girl scream is “GODDAMN THAT WATER WAS COLD!” Do that challenge and see if you wouldn’t shriek.
You hoped we were dead! Gone with the wind! Away on a magic carpet ride to oblivion! But you were wrong!
We were just plotting and biding our time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to release this auditory orgasm in your unworthy ears!
Listen to the first episode of the DNFTB podcast as Kevin the Penguin Master, resident advice columnist Auntie Liv and all-around perv Aggrey reminisce about the struggle of dial-up porn consumption and reveal exactly where to find our various porn stashes. And to top it off, we also solve the age old mystery of the Share button on streaming sites.
Abandon decency all ye who enter here!
Do not look at me as a prophet of doom for the words I’m about to say. Rather, I reveal the deep truths that we refuse to admit even to ourselves.
SCIENCE HAS FAILED US! How you might ask? Simple. We don’t have robot sex dolls.
I would be more than justified in using this space to bemoan the pathetic state of our sciences and our scholars and our technology, but I’m just not that kind of guy. I’m the kind of guy who thinks beyond his present circumstances and tries to solve the problems that he’s presented with. And there’s only one obvious solution to this dire situation: Necrophilia.
It really is the perfect blend of human contact without the inconvenience of human interaction. Our techniques of human preservation mean that bodies can be maintained in pristine condition after death for a long time. And all it’ll take to get corpses flexible again after rigor mortis is a few strategically placed metal joints. And if you think that is impossible, think of the artificial joints surgeries all over the world that replace knees, elbows and hips. It’s only a small step to doing the same to the dead. It’ll actually be cheaper since you don’t have to worry about anaesthesia and quality of (after)life.
And for all those with petty moral concerns, GET OVER YOURSELVES! You want to deny hundreds of people the joys of having a human sex partner with no demands of their own! What kind of monsters are you!? Yes the partners might be dead, but that’s better than the nothing that those people currently have. It’s not like these corpses will be diverted from some critical function. In fact, we’d actually be using them to bring even more happiness to the world. And I’m sure that if it’s one thing our loved ones would like to know they brought to this world even after their passing, it’s happiness.
Don’t bury or cremate your loved ones. Instead, donate their body to that sexless friend or frustrated who you know could use some good lovin’. In the immortal words of Michael Jackson, you’ll be doing your part to heal the world, to make it a better place for you and for me and the entire human race.
MOLESTO HAS A GIRLFRIEND!!!!
This is literally the saddest news for all the thousands (possibly hundreds, maybe tens, perhaps ones, but who’s counting?) of ladies that were salivating at the thought of getting some of this prime grade D. But it’s now reserved for a party of one. Sorry, y’all is too late!
And with a girlfriend comes TONS OF SEX!!! LOADS OF IT!!! ON THE REGULAR! And warmth, love and companionship though why she wastes that on me I have no idea. She already got me with the first part, I wonder why she’s putting in the effort with all the rest. Anyway, SEXY SEX OF SEXTY!
But despite the state of my drained and shrivelled balls, a part of me still unsatisfied. You can only commit so many crimes against god, nature and physics with athletic sex. As all encompassing as her affection is, there are empty places in my heart that she cannot touch. It keeps me up at night trying to figure out what in could possibly be missing from what should be an ideal situation for this inappropriate toucher. Suddenly, with a crash like thunder I farted! After airing out my room, I finally figured out what I’d been missing. Or rather who. Palmela Handerson.
She had been with me for so long that a void was now left that a living, breathing partner could never replicate. Through my awkard teenage years, through my journey of discovery to even my coming into adulthood (a work that is vey much in its infancy), Palmela and her 5 sisters have seen me through the good times and the bad. They know my little quirks and ticks that only come with years of familiarity. Whenever my frustrations have built up, she has always been there with her crew to help relieve the pressue that has been building up inside. So many nostalgic days spent milking the one eyed snake, blowing the horn, choking the chicken, doing the five knuckle shuffle, beating the meat, tenderising the steak, giving me a low five, greasing the pipe, polishing the wood and evicting my testicular squatters.
Sure it was always rushed. Sure Palmela left me with a feeling of intense self-loathing and disgust. Sure she never really cared and was off as soon as the job was done. But she was there! And that’s what mattered. Now I can’t even think about now that I spend my days recovering in haze of post-sex dehydration. A man should not be reduced to living like this. It’s simply inhuman! But unfortunately, even Molesto has to bow down to societal demands at some point. Now it’s time to get and and do some stretches. Using a sex swing with meat hooks to do the reverse dragon dagger with an noose tightening incrementally is a lot more difficult than it sounds. Need to at least be warmed and limber for it.