When you’re going to hit a correctional officer during a routine search, first stun him with a blast from the assed. In a rare inside look at new gang fight tactics, NYC Crips member Kareem Haskins showed his crew's secret weapon when being patted down by his CO, Mathew Knowles. Haskins then spun around and slapped him. Knowles completed the grade-school regression by getting an ice pack from the nurse and then telling on Haskins. Since this case broke wind, reports are coming in of drive-by fartings across the country, better known as “crop dusting.” No wonder they wear those scarves on their faces.
As one of the most exciting countries in the whole world, Japan offers rare and exclusive things that you will see only once in a lifetime. Though many tourists go to temples and tea ceremony rooms trying to understand something very complicated and "profound" about Japanese culture which I, a native Japanese person, don't even know, Japan has many other places you can just visit and understand immediately. One such place is the Parasitological Museum in Meguro.
Sometimes an unexpected shit-facing happens and you are way past too drunk to lay down and sleep without the miserable circus music of your brain taking a swirly, jelly, clammy vibrating boat ride. But relief is just a throw up away. And it is sorta like masturbating, where you gotta procure the right image in your brain to successfully eject. Ham, in and of itself, works. It's so close to being human-y flavored and like licking a custardy dead baby.
Nina Park is an artist originally from Antwerp who was wandering around the world for eight years before she decided to settle in Argentina. She’s finally presenting her new collection of work, "Deep Throat Puking": art pieces made completely by using her own colored vomit. It looks sort of like that cute spin-art stuff, only completely fucking foul.
Clearly the reason why yoga has gotten so popular in South America is because every single guy is interested in improving flexibility so he can suck his own penis. If I could suck my own dick I could have saved myself thousands of dollars last year. So I visited this Raja Yoga place near my apartment where people meet every Monday so I could save myself some money. Warning to all you squeamish nuns and toddlers who read this blog every day: don't click any further.
You know that warm, bubbly, oozing red stuff that squirts out of the slit throat of an animal while it dies a slow and painful death? Swedes make soups, puddings, and pancakes with it, and it’s totally legit. Fair enough that the practice of eating blood is held over from the days of starving peasants having to use every part of their recently-slaughtered animal, but—and running the risk of sounding like a backwards-ass Christian—where I grew up in Sacramento, California, and in most other places, the act of eating blood is looked upon as a total sin. To quote the bible, Genesis 9:3: “Everything that lives and moves will be food for you. Just as I gave you the green plants, I now give you everything. But you must not eat meat that has its lifeblood still in it.” In other words: it is FUCKING GROSS to pig out on blood.
A few years back Neil LaBute wrote a short story about a racist guy who shits in a coworker's desk for our inaugural Fiction Issue. That was pretty great, because as fiction, it means it's not true. What's not pretty great is that today I arrived at the VICE office and opened the drawer of my filing cabinet to find a bottle of Lubriderm and what appeared to be three jizzed-on tissues. I'm all for pranks, and while I definitely "LOL'd," I started thinking about something: Unless someone went to the trouble of finding an adhesive that looked like fake cum, some guy in the office actually waited around till everyone left last night, went into the bathroom (I sure fucking hope he wasn't sitting in my black mesh task chair), and stroked a load or two into some FluffOut Facial TissueTM. While the end is funny, the means are just sad. I hope you enjoyed yourself, anonymous masturbator.
My hands were wet when I opened it. They would not remain the only wet things on this certain evening! Japanese sex correspondent Fu Tsueng brought a new toy back from the land of endless possibilities: the Love Cup. It's a small pink can into which I had the honor to have a wank.
I sat down with my buddy Nick, who lives upstairs in my house, and asked him why he's such an appalling slob. He is pretty much full of shit because I doubt he takes anything out in three days like he says in the following interview, and I promise you Febreze doesn't cover up the smell of garbage. His room usually kind of smells but he does keep it in his room, so I guess I can't complain that much...
With the Gorilla Biscuits Reunion tour hot on the heels of many a rabid and positive Australian, I'd like to quickly like to bring something to your attention: the worst idea on earth. Here we have a video clip of Walter Shreifels (Gorilla Biscuits, Quicksand, Rival Schools) doing an acoustic rendition of the Agnostic Front classic "Society Suckers." The raw emotion and lithe tunefulness of this cover conjures up images of what Madball would sound like if frontman duties were shared by Kimya Dawson and Lamb Chop the sock puppet. We just thought we'd throw this out there before you pay actual money to watch several grown men get onto a stage and perform songs that were written in vegan carbohydrate coma at the age of 16. May we suggest as a viable alternative staying in and attacking your genitalia with a tack hammer. OK, as you were.
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