Whatever you may think about the values or intentions of our world leaders, the idiots, it seems certain that we are about to go to war. And that means, as any patriotic American knows, that we have to be fully prepared on the home front to protect ourselves from retaliatory attacks. We must protect our loved ones at all costs, as they are our most valuable possession. I’m speaking here, of course, of our pornography collections.

It can truly be said that the freedom of a country can be measured by its porn. A country and its people must hold dear the highest ideals of free expression and liberty before they’ll allow publication of such fine periodicals as Whoppin’ Jugs, and in every video, DVD, and stroke mag I see what our brave soldiers have fought and died for. Can we allow this to be lost? I think not.

In case of mutual or terrorist attacks, fragile things like the 1st Amendment and glossy paper are the first things to go. We have to work together to protect our precious porn from those despotic zealots who rule through intimidation and mistaken religious fundamentalism and who would gladly stomp all over our American values, such as Attorney General John Ashcroft. And, in the worst case scenario, you may be one of the few left alive to carry our proud tradition of nympho cheerleading sluts into the post-apocalyptic society. Below are some tested tips on porn-preservation.

 

A SAFE ENVIRONMENT
Your first step is to create a place that can withstand the inevitable onslaught of chemical warfare, nuclear fallout, and attacks from ground troops. Fortunately, many of you are already accustomed to spending long periods of time in a single small room.
1. Grab some plastic sheeting and duct tape, both to protect yourself and to bolster our sagging economy. Mostly for the economy. Find the room in your house or apartment that offers the best protection, i.e. concrete walls, one or fewer windows, cable hookup, etc, and use the duct tape to hang the plastic sheeting over the window and doorway. Be sure to get it as tight as possible to guard against chemical weapons attack. If, after a few short hours, you begin to have difficulty breathing and focusing your eyes, you’ve made it tight enough.
2. Stock it with enough essentials to stay alive for a minimum of two weeks, which is the amount of time CNN has already alloted to war coverage. According to the U.S. Government pamphlette “Jacking for Victory” each adult in your shelter requires at least three different sources of pornography per day under normal circumstances. This means you’ll need 21 different sources of filth handy and accessible, per person, in the unlikely event you have company. For some of you this means a quick shopping trip, for many of you it means opening only one drawer. Oh, and you’ll need food and water, probably.
3. Follow the news. You’ll need to know when to close yourself off from human contact. I suggest keeping NakedNews.com on at all times to stay fully abreast of world affairs. When they start using graphics that include mushroom clouds and titles like “The Naked Soldier,” it’s time to start duct-taping.

MAGAZINES
While movies and websites have made a massive incursion into our porn-enjoying lives, nothing can ever really replace the sneaky, private feeling you get when you duck into the bathroom with a copy of Non-Picky Sluts stashed inside a copy of Entertainment Weekly. They store easily, are relatively inexpensive, and do not require electricity, a big plus when selecting your porn stash.
For basic protection, seal your porn into mylar bags, easily available at any comics shop. If intense heat or chemical attack is a concern (and when isn’t it?) consider rolling your magazines tightly and storing them inside empty Pringles^TM cans. They stack well and, when duct-taped shut, offer maximum protection against the mightiest of attacks. You can even spray-paint the cans green and stencil “U.S. PORN” on the side, just to make them look all official and shit.

MOVIES
These present a bit more of a problem, as you’ll need a self-contained power source to enjoy them unless you’ve got really, really good eyes. Your VCR and DVD player will require a generator, enough gasoline to keep it running, and another sealed room to keep it in since you don’t want the gas fumes to fill up the one you’re sleeping in. Here I suggest investing in a portable battery-operated DVD player and stocking up on adult DVDs. Batteries are way easier to deal with, and you can hold it up with one hand.

BOOKS
Buy a large box of heavy-duty freezer bags and some bug spray. Take each book, stick it into a bag, and spray it with the bug spray. Seal it, and put the sealed bag into anotehr freezer bag. Spray some more bug spray into that, and seal it. That book is now completed protected against rot and insect infestation. And against you, because there’s no way you’ll ever bother to take the time to dig it back out just to whack off, especially considering the Raid^TM stench.

POSTCARDS
Hey, you use what you got. And you can pack an awful lot of dirty postcards into an ammo box, you know.

INTERNET WEB SITES
Here you may be in luck, because the Internet was designed for the specific purpose of keeping communication lines alive during nuclear attack so that the military could continue to distribute pornography. Even in the event of massive retaliatory bombing, you’ll be able to access many, if not most of your favorite sites! Your biggest problem will be keeping your computer running. Maybe you can plug into your neighbor’s generator in exchange for some Skittles^TM.

ALTERNATIVES

And now, the latest exciting offering from the Foxy Network asks…

[fade into near-black, as the theme music starts; a heavy bass rendition of Devil Rump's hit single Do Me To Death. ]

Are you ready… for a hummer?!?

[The lights come up to a dim glow on the audience, which is dutifully going wild. Camera PANS crazily around the room, finally settling on the genial host who has emerged from the swirling clouds of fog on the stage.]

Hi! And welcome to “Hummer”, the game show that lets you discover just how level-headed you really are, right? Right?
(he bounds down the steps to stand in front of a deeply-shadowed chamber)
Each of our contestents must answer our questions to move on to the next level. Sounds easy, right? Right? Only he or she will have to answer questions while undergoing the most intensive, grueling, mind-draining physical sensation that any human can possibly endure. Oral sex! Let’s meet tonight’s new contestant!

Our challenger is Neal Schlabonsky, a 22-year old-liberal arts student from Charlotte, West Virginia. He enjoys online chatrooms and reading the works of Joyce, for some reason. Give it up for Neal Schlabonsky!

[Audience does so as a spindly young man emerges from behind the curtain, waves half-heartedly, and makes his way over to Gonad, only tripping once.]

Hullo.

(puts arm around Neal, almost knocking him down)
Hi, Neal! Glad you could be on the show. Says here you’re a straight A student, right? Your parents must be very proud. Ever gotten a hummer before?

Well, I think I might have…

SURE you have! You’re a college kid! Big man, studmonkey, cock of the walk! But now you have to see if you have the calm, the courage, the grace under fire to be able to answer three questions while getting your knob polished by our own lovely Miss… Julie!

[MISS JULIE, an unbearably lovely brunette wearing what appears to be about three feet of dental floss, strides out from behind the curtain and shimmies across the stage. The audience woo hoos frantically. One elderly gentleman in the front row faints and must be rushed from the studio]

Miss Julie is matriculating in field biology right here at UCLA, last appeared as a Victoria’s Shackles model, has no discernable gagging reflex, and was chosen to be Neal’s dream date! (applause)

[MISS JULIE struts up to stand next to GONAD and NEAL. GONAD leers at her, NEAL is visibly swallowing and sweating.]

Are you ready, Neal? (NEAL immediate starts tearing at his belt) Hey, haha, hold on a minute. Gotta do this right. Neal, sit down here in… the Seat!

[The lights go up, revealing the shadowy chamber to be what appears to be a 1987 Chrysler LaBaron, with the front half removed so that the front seat is clearly visible. GONAD leads NEAL around to the driver's side and opens the door for him. NEAL gets in, as MISS JULIE demurely seats herself next to him and removes her gum.]

Okay, slugger! While Miss Julie gets you ready, you’ll need to pick your topic. Would you like “Baseball Greats”, “Famous Bridges”, or “Bible Quotes”?

[MISS JULIE is fiddling with NEAL'S groin; the overhead monitor shows her in closeup as she lowers his pants to his knees and begins doing something with her hand that is clearly very distracting, according to the medical telemetry charts next to the monitor.]

Wow! Um, I, ow, um, “Bible quotes”?

“Bible Quotes” it is!
(applause, looming music begins)

No! I didn’t want… AAAAuuuuuugod…

[A significant portion of NEAL disappears into MISS JULIE'S mouth; as her head begins to bob up and down he grips the steering wheel and stares up at the roof of the car. The medical scanners begin red-lining.]

Okay, Neal, you sly dog, you. For $100, name a book of the Bible. Any book.

Agh! Uh, uh, uh, I, uh, uh, oh GEEZ!

[His head rolls back, and MISS JULIE bobs exactly once more and then sits up and smiles. The audience explodes as a loud buzzer sounds, followed by the traditonal "loser" sound: "waa waa waa waaaaaa". A woman in an evening gown walks up and presents MISS JULIE with a monogrammed handkerchief and a glass of champagne, and two large men arrive to escort a drooling and all-but-unconscious NEAL from the stage, pants dragging from his ankles.]

Aw, too bad, Neal! You popped too soon, and as we know that disqualifies you immediately. But hey, you don’t go away a total dishonored quick-trigger loser, because you’ll get a free copy of our home game! MIss Julie, nicely done, great fingering technique. Let’s get a shot of Neal’s shot, shall we?

[The overhead monitor displays a slow-motion replay of NEAL'S shame, as MISS JULIE works his balls. We can clearly see NEAL'S legs convulse, and MISS JULIE easily engulfs him with a somewhat bored expression before sitting back up and retrieving her gum.].

Just incredible. Now, Jimmy, tell us who’s next in the seat?

Our next challenger is a salesperson for “Feet Elite”, please welcome… Eleanor Gordan!
(a pretty woman with auburn hair, wearing a trim Donna Karan outfit, steps out and smiles. Applause.)

Eleanor! Thank you! You look wonderful! I understand you sell shoes?

(looking straight towards the camera and never losing her stilted, professional smile)
Yes, I do, Greg. I’m the regional manager for the largest women’s shoe supplier in the mid-southern east coast.

Fantastic! You must love it!

(smiling harder)
No, Greg, it’s a thankless, mind-numbing cage that eats a little more of my soul each and every day.

Great! Let’s get started. To help you out tonight, we have… Alphonse!

[A swarthy, devastatingly handsome man wearing grey slacks, black shirt open at the neck, and an Italian sports jacket walks onto the stage. ELEANOR sees him and smiles hesitantly.]

Eleanor’s dream date is Alphonse. Alphonse is a male dancer at Squeaky Pete’s, and his hobbies include collecting matchbooks and shattering women’s lives.

[ALPHONSE stands next to ELEANOR and places his hand on her shoulder; she turns to GONAD and tugs at his shoulder]

So.. I’m sorry?
(ELEANOR whispers into his ear, blushing furiously)
Oh. Really? Cool. Fair enough. Jimmy, we need a replacement. We’ve got a rugger.

All right Greg, instead Eleanor’s date tonight will be… Staci. (audience reacts with loud hoots and woo’s, obviously Staci is popular) Staci is a clerical worker and single mother, she likes Reba McIntyre, and she can etch glass with her tongue. Give it up for… Staci!

[ALPHONSE steps back, to be replaced with STACI. She's wearing pink tights and a t-shirt with a kitten on it. She is blond, cute, and has a great rack. She stands next to ELEANOR and smiles; ELEANOR'S nipples erect with an audible pop.]

C’mon you crazy kids, let’s get started.

[This time ELEANOR is seated on the passenger side as STACI slides behind the wheel. STACI runs a finger up ELEANOR'S leg but ELEANOR is determined to keep facing the camera.]

We need a new category. Eleanor, you can pick from “Baseball Greats”, “Famous Bridges”, or our new category, “Secrets”?

I’ll take “Secrets,” Greg.

Okay, here we go. Staci, you may dive in when ready.

[The ominous music begins again; STACI slides a hand under ELEANOR'S skirt, then quickly follows it with her head. ELEANOR emits a small squeak and then clamps her mouth shut and fights to remain calm. Her heart rate jumps.]

What is the term for secret government material?

CLA… um, “classified” Greg. Unh! “Classified.” Ooh.

[The audience applauds wildly, and ELEANOR's hips begin to gyrate, although she keeps her upper body perfectly still. Heartrate is steadily rising, oxygen level is fading slightly as she begins gasping.]

That’s right! You’ve got $100!
(the number board fixed to the top frame of the car rolls over to $100)
Now, to double your money: what popular street drug is used by three of the five members of the chart-topping group “Bistro Boyz?”

Mmmm, mmm, ohhh, it’s, uh, it’s right on the tip of my… oh, god… it’s… crystal me… no! CRANK! It’s crank! Ah god, right there!
(ELEANOR grabs the bulge in her skirt where the ears should be and starts pulling STACI’S head closer. Blood pressure is up, heart rate is spiking.)

Judges?
(from offstage, a buzzer sounds)
We’ll accept that. Eleanor! Eleanor?
(she looks up at him but her eyes are glazing over)
Are you ready to move on for the $500 question, or do you want to stop right here and go home with $200?

(panicky)
Keep going! Keep GOING! NEVER STOP! YES! IF YOU STOP I’LL KILL YOU!

Ha ha! That’s the way! Okay, for $500, the third “Secrets” question: Eleanor, what’s your PIN number?

(without hesitation) FIVE ONE ONE SIX! NOW! NOW!

That’s right! Eleanor, you now have $500 and you’re ready to go to the challenge round! Jimmy, our champion!

[STACI immediately, if reluctantly, comes out from underneath ELEANOR'S skirt and sits up, waiting, despite ELEANOR'S efforts to keep her in place. ELEANOR is almost crying in frustration and is clenching her thighs together; her medical monitors skitter back down below the danger lines.]

Our returning champion is Charlie Stolz. Charlie is a talent scout for MegaPap Modeling, holds the unofficial record for having received more blowjobs than any man alive, and to date has won over $43,000 on our show!

[A second car front, this one an Impala, moves into the light and we see a middle-aged, potbellied, balding man. He is grinning ear to ear and waving his clasped hands over his head like a boxer. His trousers are already pooled at his feet, revealing skinny white legs, sock garters, an appendix scar, and limp genitalia.]

Charlie! Welcome back to the show! Tonight you’ll be going up against our new challenger, Eleanor.

(to Eleanor)
Hey toots.

(still panting)
Huh… hi.

Now, as you know, I’ll be asking three questions. The winner will be whoever gets two of those three. Charlie, since you’re our champion and because poor Eleanor’s on the sweet razor edge of release, your buzzer will have a two-second delay. And who will be putting you through your test of endurance tonight?

Greg, tonight Charlie’s date will be… Marabelle! (audience applauds and cheers) Marabelle is a former “Choad Loads” model, and she can suck-start a 300′ firehose up a thirty-foot incline. Here she is, Marabelle!

[Marabelle, a devestating redhead, comes out wearing white lingerie and spike heels. Charlie smiles at her and begins erecting immediately. Meanwhile ELEANOR is stroking STACI'S hair and face, trying to get her to come back.]

Is everybody ready for the most important oral test they’ll ever take?
(Everyone agrees; STACI and MARABELLE get to business)
Our final round category tonight is… “Sex Crimes!” First question: What is the legal age of consent in Pennsylvania? (buzzer sounds) Eleanor?

RIGHT THERE! RIGHT FUCKING THERE! Oh, Jesus…

No, I’m sorry that’s incorrect. (buzzer sounds) Charlie?

That’d be 16, Greg.

That’s right, and you’ve got one point! Congratulations, Charlie!

[CHARLIE smiles proudly. MARABELLE is working like an oil rig, both hands flying, but CHARLIE'S medical monitors are holding rock steady.]

Actually that’s a bit vague, it can change depending on the age of the other…

That’s fine, Charlie, on to the next question. Eleanor, how you doing?

[ELEANOR is sprawled across the seat with her legs wrapped tightly around STACI'S head. Her blouse is open in front and her bra is ripped in half. ]

(muttering nonstop) …c’mon, keep going, that’s it, use your teeth, grab that thing, ooh, not so hard, get it between your tongue and your lip and oh!… YEAH!

Fantastic! On to the next question, Eleanor will have to answer this one to stay in the game. Here we go, what is the…

[A phone rings, CHARLIE looks apologetic and reaches around MARABELLE to produce a cellphone.]

(to Greg)
I’m really sorry, I need to take this. Bill, what’s up? Look, I can’t talk now, I’m on the show. Yes, right now.
(he pushes gently on MARABELLE’S head)
Keep going, honey, you’re doing great.

Charlie, I’m afraid we have to keep going. We don’t have lifelines on this show you know, right? Right! Ha ha!

You’re right, sorry.
(he puts the phone away and settles back in the seat. His heart rate has not changed)

Great! Okay, the next question. What is the… (a buzzer sounds, over and over) Eleanor, I haven’t asked the… oh. Um, Eleanor?

[ELEANOR has moved around so that she and STACI are in a frantic 69. The sounds are due to ELEANOR'S use of her buzzer on STACI as a makeshift and surprisingly effective dildo.]

Ah, well, looks like the winner for tonight is… Charlie!
(CHARLIE smiles, but keeps trying to see past GONAD at what’s going on in the next seat.)
But you’ll have to come back in a week, Charlie, because next week is Celebrity Week here on “The Hummer”, where your favorite celebrities will try their luck to win money for charity. Tune in Monday night at 8 to see Whoopi Goldberg, Drew Carey and Dr. Joyce Brothers, and we’ll see what happens when they get…

A HUMMER!

[Theme music begins and credits roll. An insert shows scenes from the show: NEAL'S expression, ELEANOR buryng her face in STACI, the audience member being resuscitated in the parking lot, etc.]

Q: How old is masturbation?

A: Anthropologists have kept it under wraps, but the fossilized remains of the 3.5 million year old young girl found in Hadar, Ethiopia and nicknamed “Lucy” clearly show that she died because she was too distracted by an amazingly shaped 12″ gourd to notice the falling tree. Masturbation actually predates the opposable thumb, and may in fact have inspired it so as to better grasp the situation.

Q: Is it harmful to masturbate?

A: Despite the warnings given by religious leaders, worried parents and the guy that invented graham crackers, masturbation is only harmful in the following situations:
1. If you begin to blister.
2. If you aim carelessly and put someone’s eye out.
3. If you are standing on the edge of a precipice.
4. If it blocks you from reaching the autopilot.
5. If you use harmful accessories, such as cacti, explosives, Ben Gay, or live bees.

 

Q: Isn’t it condemned in the Bible?

A: A common misconception. The sin of onanism, which is usually what’s being discussed, occurred when Onan was expected to impregnate his brother’s wife, his brother having been struck dead by God that morning. Onan, a trifled freaked out, didn’t want to impregnate his dead brother’s wife (she was a woofer) and so he pulled out, whereupon God struck him dead, too. Most religious leaders since then have thus condemned the spilling of seed as being a sin, but to me it spells a very different and very clear moral lesson: don’t piss off God.

It’s worth noting that, at least according to the Bible, women can rub themselves silly without a qualm. And while there’s anti-gay prohibitions aplenty in Scripture, there’s also no injunction against lesbians at all, which suggests that, like many homophobes, God is a-okay with girl-on-girl action.

Q: But hasn’t the pope spoken out against it?

A: Yes. And look at him.

Q: Does constant masturbation weaken you?

A: Would constant sit-ups give you a flabby stomach? I rest my case.

Q: How much is too much?

A: Excuse me? I was distracted… Ha! Just my little joke, I did that before we started. Like any other obsessive and maddeningly pleasant activity, masturbation can only be considered excessive if it keeps you from leading a normal life, working a normal job, and driving the legal speed limit. Otherwise, feel free to fill your days and nights with all the physical self-love you can bear, taking time out for meals and the reapplication of protective grease.

Q: How many people masturbate?

A: Good question. I haven’t the faintest idea.

Q: Haven’t there been studies?

A: Sure. And it’s certainly possible that every single person who was approached and asked “Do you masturbate? Really? How often?” actually answered with complete candor and honesty. It’s also possible you could bite the nape of your own neck, but I’m not holding my breath.

It’s a certainty that not everyone masturbates. There will always be those with the iron will, rock-solid conviction, and/or total lack of interest that can resist going for their own groceries, and I admire them. Usually through their windows. But that’s neither here nor there.

If I took a shot at it, based on what I know of human nature and desire, I would guess that there’s a small percentage that doesn’t, a small percentage that can’t stop, and a whopping big load of people in the middle who do it in varying amounts, often on Friday nights.

Q: Is masturbation good for you?

A: It’s certainly been good for me, but I don?t think that’s what you’re asking.

Masturbation provides many helpful benefits (as opposed to harmful benefits). It relaxes you. It helps you learn what pleasures you, so that you can guide others. It serves as a low-impact aerobic workout, unless both feet leave the ground. It helps you get in touch with your own body and with your kitchen utensils. It allows you to tap off excess fluid to keep your body running at optimal efficiency. It keeps you from hitting all the people who really need hitting. And it provides you with something to do to while away boring hours that might otherwise have been used to do something harmful and detrimental to society, such as running for Congress.

Q: If your lover or spouse masturbates, does it mean they’re not satisfied with you?

A: Yes.

Wait, wait, I was kidding. No, it doesn’t. Probably.

People masturbate for many reasons. It might mean that your lover has an urge for quick release but doesn’t want to bother you, or that they’re not in the mood to consider your needs just then, or that they lost a bar bet, or it might mean that they just watched The Real Cancun and they need to do it right now, dammit. If you try to have sex with them, and they tell you nah, they’d rather go masturbate, then you might have a problem.

Q: You’ve convinced me. How do I get started?

A: Go to a quiet secluded place where you won’t be interrupted, unless you like that sort of thing. Run your hands all over your body until you find the areas that most like to be touched. You’ll find the most sensitive areas (apart from the crotch) are the nipples, the backs of the knees, the thighs, and the surface of the eyeballs. Caress and stimulate these areas until you begin to uncontrollably bark like a Chihuahua. Increase the speed of your caresses until your barking more closely resembles an Alsatian. Now it’s time to grab your goodies.

Reach into your pants and scope things out. Chances are you’ll find one or more of the basic sets of genitalia: the sticky-outie thing (penis) or the gooey-innie thing (vagina). To stimulate the penis, you can stroke it, rub it, pull on it, slap it lightly, roll it between your hands, trap it between your thighs, stick it inside something warm and soft (such as a dinner roll) and, frankly, just about anything else you can think of. Penises are easy. It’s usually a trick to get them not to orgasm, even during inappropriate times such as funerals or long-distance marathons.

Vaginas are tougher, for several reasons. It’s not clear where, how fast, or how hard to touch it. What works sometimes doesn’t always work every time. Sometimes it just quits on you no matter how excited you thought you were. And sometimes you discover that the vagina is really just the inside part and you’ve actually been poking around on the vulva instead, and then you just want to give up and collect stamps.

The most sensitive part of the woman’s fruit basket is the clitoris, or fun-button. It’s right at the top of the vulva, where the lips come together. No, a little higher. Right there. Under that little flap. No, over to the left more. Up… no, you passed it. Rest your finger here and let it slide… that’s it… no… oh, fuck it.

I suggest getting one of those pillow-style back massagers, or maybe a motorcycle, straddling it, and just vibrating the whole area in the hopes that you nail the little bugger.

I hope this has helped some of you, and I look forward to talking to you again next month, after you shower off.

Next week: Basic Sex Education, or What That Little Hole Is For

Last night on the web
We saw a strange thing.
A pretty girl tied
Herself up with a string
And smacked her bare butt
With a handful of trash
While moaning out loud
And asking for cash.

Last night on the web
We saw a strange sight.
Twenty-two Shriners
Fucking at night.
Their fezzes were cocked
And their targeting true.
Has this sort of thing
Ever happened to you?

Last night on the web
We heard an odd noise.
Three ladies were shrieking
And playing with toys.
Their gasps were excited,
Their batteries strong
But we finally quit, they
Were taking too long.

Last night on the web
We saw a wild show.
Four different couples
Were ready to go.
They’d oiled themselves up
With some butter and grease
And waited til midnight
To pray for some piece.

Last night on the web
We had a great time.
We watched as a stripper
Picked up a flat dime.
She didn’t use hands,
Or teeth or her lip.
Just the force of her will
And a powerful grip.

Last night on the web
We clicked on a page
And found women hooking
For minimum wage.
The ladies were cute but
We had to give way.
When we’re looking for love
We don’t go to eBay.

Last night on the web
We hooked up Kazaa
And downloaded things
That were truly bizarre.
But the worst of them all
Was scary and rude
Geraldo Rivera
Was totally nude.

Last night on the web
We surfed to a spot
Where cheerleading teens
All showed what they got.
We couldn’t help seeing
The clues; such a pain
But two were all wrinkled
And one had a cane.

Last night on the web
We met our true match
This guy shoved a webcam
Up his girlfriend’s tight snatch.
He turned to the right
And she started to cough
But when she went pee
Then I had to log off.

Last night at our house
We didn’t log on.
We had a nice dinner
And kissed, whereupon
We made tender love,
Without jpeg or gif
Or movies or flash apps
And we said, what if

We abandoned the web
And lived our own lives?
Without great big hard schlongs
Or young cum-sucking wives?
No generic Viagra
Or offers of porn?
A brand new clean life!
It’d be like being born!

We’d both have more time
For more vital stuff
Like… sitting around,
And… wow, this is tough.
Last night on the web
We looked at our lives,
And we jumped back online
Where depravity thrives.

And now I must go
Some hot chick from France
Is messaging me now
And wants in my pants.
This relationship thing
Is fun for awhile
But too much real life
Is cramping my style.

Last week a Las Vegas news program broke the story of a private club (Huntingfor Bambi.com) that allowed men to shoot naked women with paint ball guns for the low, low price of thousands of dollars. Quickly thereafter the concept of naked women as targets sprung up on morning radio shows and blogs and horrified women’s organizations across the world as everyone weighed in on this sensationalistic topic.

But I was no exception; I posted my thoughts (”Yechh!”) and left it at that. Since then I’ve received comments and e-mails to the effect of “What the hell is wrong with you? They?re not serious or anything, it’s just a bit of harmless fun! I thought you were a humor site!”

Unfortunately I think these people have missed the point of the Island, and to help demonstrate what I mean I’d like to offer some suggestions on how to rework the Hunting for Bambi idea – which is more than likely a hoax to get publicity and sell videos – into something we’d be proud to host ourselves.

 

As it was described, a typical Hunting For Bambi event involved someone paying $10,000 to choose one of over 30 women to hunt. The woman would strip down to sneakers and take off as the intrepid hunter stalked and shot her down like a dog.

Now this all sounds reasonable. But I have problems with the one-sided aspect. Hell, if you’re going to go to all this trouble, why give her sneakers? Easier to just stake her down in the middle of the desert and fire away. Or use a paintball gun with a sniper scope and drop her without even leaving your car. Geez.

Let’s even things up a bit. Give her a rifle, at the very least. Or get herds of naked women out there so that shooting at one could bring the very real danger of being trampled by the rest when they stampede. The hunters should be naked as well, which should be good for a laugh, especially when you consider what a paint ball with a muzzle velocity of over 200 mph could do to the average scrotum. Tell me this wouldn’t sell if you marketed it to feminists with good eyes and itchy trigger fingers.

In fact, to make it interesting I’d want to rig up different scenarios. Check these out:

First Person Spooger
One guy, clothed, against all 30 nude women. They’re hiding in dense woods, it’s dark, and they have way more ammo than you. Can you make your way past the nude sentries to raid their camp? I’ll bet James Bond has fantasies like this.

Man Against Nature, in the Form of a Hot Naked Babe
One hunter, one nude woman. No paint ball guns. Instead, each has a single paint-filled sponge. They start at different points of the woods and start stalking. Last one unspattered wins! This can also work as an indoor game, hint hint.

Command and Conquer: Yowza
A team of hunters against an entrenched army of naked women. The hunters must use brilliant tactics and cunning strategies to accomplish their goals and they’d better be careful, because you don’t want to know what happens to the hunters that get captured.

The Girls Gone Wild Frontier
One hunter, one naked gal. However, she started off a week ago, and he’s got to track her down. It will take all his woodsman skills to find her, especially if she had cab fare.

Remember the Galamo
As many hunters as you like, but the naked girls are inside a 30′ high armored fortress. The hunters will have to fashion primitive siege weapons while avoiding the paint-filled balloons thrown from the walls. For more exciting play they can make ladders to scale the walls and engage in hand-to-whatever combat, but they’d better watch out for the cauldrons of boiling hot paint waiting for them!

Wheelee
After you get your party of hunters, match them with the same number of women, then strip everybody down. Add gallons of baby oil, and the King of the Hill battle has begun. Winner is whichever one can stay on top of the pile for a measured minute, but this is the sort of game where nobody really loses.

Quimmich
This one gets a little trickier, but it has a devoted following. The field is a large, padded arena. You have two naked teams, male and female (can be modified depending on the preferences of the players). Each team has the following players:
Two Swingers, whose job is to nail as many people on the other team as possible.
Two Bumpers, whose job is to body slam members of the opposing team who try to score.
One Host, who must keep the drinks and pretzels coming.
One Stud or Slut, who’s only job is to find and grab the Golden Bitch.
This is played with regional teams, and fan loyalty makes for some impassioned and creative waves in the stands, I can tell you.

Tree Blinds Date
This is easily the most perilous, and the most personally dangerous. One hunter, one clothed woman. The hunter must select and track the woman, corner her, buy her a drink and maybe a reasonably priced meal, and then he must – without the gun – talk to her and try to form a relationship based on mutual respect and affection. This is not for the faint-hearted or weak-willed! This is the Hunt to End All Hunts, and it will take all of your wits and more courage than most men have, especially since usually you can’t use rope snares until the second date.

Hunting for Bubba
I like the naked hunter idea more and more, so let’s go with it. One nude guy, with sneakers, is open season to a woman with a paint ball gun. The huntress could even pick out the accessories her target is to carry such as a beer can, a remote control, or a paycheck larger than hers. This could even be therapeutic if you offered it to rape victims and abuse survivors, but you may have problems getting her to stop after only one shot. Oh, what the hell, shoot him again.

See? The concept is fine, just needs a little work…

Next week: More on this, as we delve more deeply into the “only hunt what you’ll eat” philosophy.