There’s nothing more appetizing than a ghost baboon staring into your soul with haunted dead eyes from underneath a layer of deviled eggs, is there? No, I’m really asking because every time I see one my stomach starts growling. Now please excuse me while I go snap into a Slim Jim.

If I wanted to wake up in the car to the feel of penis pressing into the back of my neck, I’d go back to carpooling with Gary Busey. Zing. Your move, Busey.

Mr. Willy Pilly the car penis, $20.

If someone’s going to eat my brains, it might as well be these gals. Now if I someone’s going to eat my other parts, I’d skew more Charlie Sheen. Just kidding, I don’t want it beat up. Or coked up.

via Rareica

You should buy this Bearded Clam catnip toy because it’s much less painful than filling your actual vagina with catnip and letting your cat gnaw on it. Just ask Nikki when she gets out of the ICU.

I know it sounds crazy, but somehow all of these arrows are pointing at my vagina. On second thought that makes sense because this print is screened onto wood. It’s like one of those creepy paintings where the eyes follow you around the room. Except totally sexy.

The best thing about writing this blog is the rabbit hole of Googling that you fall into on a daily basis. Finding this print led me to think about watersports. Thinking about watersports led me to Googling fetishes. Googling fetishes led me to the discovery of the word Urolagnia. And Googling Uroglania led me to my new favorite image of all time. And for that, unholy-pairing-of-the-internet-and-a-filthy-trucker-mind, I salute you.

That’s it. I can’t live on this planet anymore. Hipsters are making old, used feather pillows cool. Call me old fashioned – fuck, call me old – but in my day, when we thought things were probably soaked in urine we threw them away. I don’t care if it’s made from gold and stuffed with Alexander Skarsgard’s pubic hair, this decrepit pillow has all the charm of the incontinent grandmother whose prolapsed uterus likely made those stains. And, by the way, no matter how “vintage” bodily fluids get they aren’t giving anything a “tea stained antique look.” Sorry Etsy, I love you, but pick a featured seller who’s products don’t carry Hepatitis A.

If I had a nickel for every time I heard this, I probably could have paid for the abortions in the first place.

This doll reminds me of the time in high school when my friend Kelly taped pubes to my friend Merrick’s Cabbage Patch doll. Of course, it also reminds me of a joke Strawberry Extreme, Dallas’s #1 Prop Comic, wrote — What do you call a self-indulgent conductor? A maestorbater. Hey, I never said my thoughts were congruent. Turtles.

The clown at my elementary school birthday parties never made balloon creations this cool. He only made three things: balloon dogs, balloon giraffes and inappropriate sexual advances on my party guests. But that was okay because nobody got upset about it. What six year old knows what “fellatio” is?

weiner man

via FleshForks, even though he doesn’t know it