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oh OK I was on my way to bed, I swear, and in checking my email before I went, I came across the august T-Shirt Hell newsletter. T-Shirt Hell is where I should work, but I'm too lazy to email in ideas. Anyway here's a shirt I SOOOO woulda come up with had I known Rick James died. Cuz when I read that he died, I said to myself "I'm dead, bitch!" in that beautiful Dave Chapelle accent. I will buy season one dvd tomorrow, and hopefully season two will be out cuz I'm buying that too. Brings back very good pre-"trouble" Harlan memories, me bringing home dinner and him having one of his famous tampon-sized joints filled with Mexican ditch waiting for me, us grubbing and watching Chapelle show reruns untill eventually "shutting it down" and making our way to the bedroom where sex reminiscent of a car accident or construction site almost always ensued. Oh drugs, you have ruined all I love and I hate that I love you so much. I will never say "Don't do drugs" or "Just say no" to people, even being "anti drug" or whatever it is that I am, the best people I've ever met have been people who did drugs hardcore and then stopped, or only smoke weed now. The people I'm talking about are the ones who came through it OK, took the best and left the rest, the ones where becoming a junky and then kicking for good was the best decision they ever made, was the best thing that happened to them in their lives, people like me, very few. Almost two years now, two years off heroin. I hope the same's true for you Lonny-doo.

Anyway, back to T-Shirt Hell. The guy who runs it, sick fuck that he is, I love him. The newsletters are funny shit. Here's a not-so-short excerpt:

People often say to me, "You seem to hate everybody, and everything. Isn't there anything you love?" Of course: I love to masturbate! There are few joys in life as simple and as perfect as rubbing one out. Even though I am now super rich, and I regularly bang actresses, models and pop stars who have names that rhyme with hoho, I occasionally give in to the immediate gratification of jerking off. There are no pleas for cuddling, there's no requests for child support, awkward questions like; "do you love me?", "how am I going to get this out of my hair?" or "But you're the one who put it in my ass! Maybe you can lure it out with a piece of chicken?"

Also, sometimes when you're fucking a supermodel, you can split those skinny bitches in half when you ease it all the way in, or blow the tops of their heads off if you cum too vigorously. Supermodels are really only made to be walking clothes hangers, they're not really designed for rough sex. Then you have bodies to dispose of. Fortunately, supermodels make excellent kindling, although they can be a bit dry.

But back to the subject at hand (no pun intended). I know you all thinkthat you're excellent masturbators and are eager to type on your sticky keyboards and tell me about the latest porn site you found or fetish video- girls tied to rocks while eagles shit on them as they're fucked by porpoise, volume VII- that you just downloaded. I say boring! Amateur crap!

What about your roommate? Or let's pretend that you have a significant other who shares your home. Sadly, most of you probably still live with your mom, right? Let me clue you in. They are on to you. They check your history folder, they look at your cookies, and they've held a black light over your laptop. And the fact that you delete your history folder every night does not convince them you're simply trying to conserve disk space, considering your hard drive also contains mpegs of every episode of Knight Rider.

When you're planning on having sex without a partner, you need to think outside the box (no pun intended). The best place to masturbate, besides standing outside of the Today Show, is the kitchen. Yes, the kitchen with its endless supply of lubricants, and easy to clean surfaces. The kitchen; where you can beat your meat and make a sandwich. Best of all no one ever suspects.

How many times has this happened to you?

"Where are you going, honey?"
"Oh, I just have to use the bathroom. Go back to sleep. I'll be out in 10 minutes, 5 if I stay focused."
"Leave the door open, and don't flush. I want to see this masterpiece."
"Dang!"

But here's your new scenario:
"Where are you going, honey?"
"Kitchen"
"OK. Just don't eat the roast beef. It's full of maggots. Goodnight."
"Woohoo!"

So here are some final tips.

Greasing up: It's the mother lode- from cooking spray to chunky peanut butter, Tabasco to tabouille. Extra virgin olive oil is terrific. But if you have a fast hand, it may start to smoke. So, you may want something that can withstand the higher temperature, like peanut oil or Crisco. Do not be tempted to use Drano. I know it says it will clean your pipes but this is not a euphemism.

Inspiration: Mrs. Butterworth, Betty Crocker, and Mama Celeste are all hotties. If you like men there's the guy on the Brawny paper towels, the Jolly Green Giant and Mr. Clean. If you're a freak there's Tony the Tiger, the Keebler elves, and the dancing hand from Hamburger Helper.

Bonus items: Cucumbers, carrots, and wine bottles oh my! Rinse them when you're done or use them for coleslaw with your own special tang.

Clean up: Again, it's a snap. Personally I like to do it right into the dishwasher, but you're welcome to take advantage of the sink, the trashcan, and the oven mitts.

While this advice holds true for both men and women, the ladies get one additional tip. You don't need to hide when you masturbate. No one will judge you, everyone wants to watch. You can actually make a fairly good living at it.

So enjoy yourself, and until next time, this is the Editor saying, "Bon Appetit!"

---------------Funny funny shit. Then after his "Letter From the Editor" he copies in the best of the hatemail he's gotten since the last newsletter, hilarious. My kinda dude. Keep all the anti's, the naysayers, those that don't get it... keep all the pain, each memory, keep it all, coal for the heart fire.

Always remember to quit while you're ahead.

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