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est. 02.27.02

tmh superfriends:

August 2007

"Do Fraggles have genitalia?" and other idiotic search engine queries.
do doozers shit in the trash heap? | Monday, 08.20.07
People are full of questions, from "What's today's date?" to "Wait, shitting in your mouth will cost me how much?" Thankfully, we can turn to the internet for more personal questions, and thanks to the majesty of logs, I can see what brings you sick fuckers to thismayhurt. Here's an example of the caliber of human being I attract to my world wide weblog via Google.

learn how to ping pong balls out vagina

Wow. I'm going to assume this person either wants to a) learn how to shoot ping pong balls out of his or her vagina, or b) is panicking because he or she has lodged a ridiculous amount of ping pong balls into their vagina and needs to get them out without a trip to the emergency vagina doctor (EVD). Unfortunately, I don't have a vagina, so I won't be able to assist this person... my only experience with sporting goods and naughty bits involved a very seedy gentleman's club, wherein a haggard dancer offered to show me and my group of drunken friends "something cool" if we gave her five dollars. We pooled our money, handed it over and watched her pick up a cue ball without the use of her hands. In her vagina. Unsure of how to react, we politely clapped, finished our drinks and made mental notes to never play pool at that place ever again. It was both unsexy and completely fucking horrifying, and I regret handing over my dollar to this very day. Perhaps she did a Google search of her own: "how to picking up balls in twat."

Search Engine Protip: When searching the internet, you don't need to state your search in the form of a question. This isn't Jeopardy, this isn't the Daily Double, and judging by the questions you're asking, you'd be the sweaty contestant with $-8,000 before the first commercial break. You lost money on a game show. You owe Alex Trebek thousands of dollars because you turn to Google and ask questions like "What are things?" and "Where are my legs?"

That being said, here's a search that brought multiple people to tmh:

How Do I Pee At A Urinal Without A Fly?

Why use title case (incorrectly, I might add, since short articles, prepositions, and conjunctions should not be capitalized)? Is your question the title of a play, book, or novella? Hopefully the searchers will come back, because there are a few different ways to pee at a urinal without using your fly, as outlined below.

Option 1: If you're wearing sweatpants, the obvious method is to shimmy up to the urinal, pull the front of the pants down far enough to expose your penis, and then urinate. You then shake the excess urine from the tip of your penis, pull your pants back up, wash your hands, and exit the bathroom.

Option 2: If you've accidentally sewn or staple-gunned your fly-less pants to your hips, urinating will be a bit more complicated, but not impossible. Using a razor blade, carefully cut a slit in the front of your pants, near your penis. Do not cut your penis! Once you've finished urinating, sew or staple-gun the makeshift fly shut, or, attach velcro strips to either side of the flap for future urine expulsion.

Option 3: Just piss yourself because you're disgusting and wear potato sacks to church.

Here's a late entry into the "search in the form of a question" category, but it's a classic...

can sucking a penis whitening your teeth

With each search engine return, my faith in the human race dwindles. You are all so fucking stupid. I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that 9 out of 10 leading dentists agree that sucking a penis will not whiten(ing) your teeth, and that other dentist just wants to get blown by patients that don't know any better. "Time for your cleaning Mrs. Peters... you can either have the peppermint fluoride or a shot of jizz down your throat. Now, I don't want to make the decision for you, but your insurance covers the semen cleaning while the fluoride treatment will cost you $5,000, so..."

Why? Why would sucking a dick make your teeth whiter? Are we that desperate for blowjobs that we need to fabricate unrelated medicinal benefits in order to get off? Hold on, let me ask Google... ok, yes, apparently we are that desperate for blowjobs that we need to fabricate unrelated medicinal benefits in order to get off. Whatever happened to the good ol' days when we all blew each other as a sign of affection or because we couldn't afford to buy Christmas presents that one year?

But I guess I'm guilty, too. I turn to Dr. Google before consulting my primary care physician. Mainly because I don't have a primary care physician, and I can usually cure myself with my strange collection of elixirs and tonics and some barely decipherable words of encouragement from a message board full of unhealthy mopes that have it a lot worse than I do. Like, one time I had nagging cough and a clear mucus was steadily flowing from my nose, and after a quick Google search I determined that I had a cold. Here's what you, my loyal and sickly fans are afflicted with, along with my professional diagnoses.

throwing up, diarrhea, hurting testicles - Cancer
dicks that hurt - Dick Cancer
ear crackling noise - Dick in Ear Cancer
methan source of feces - Spelling Cancer
hirsute chest - Wolfman Fever

This is just a small sample of the retarded bullshit that I'm bombarded with on a daily basis. Many of you come here in search of hurt porn, child cocksucking lolita sluts and nazi puppy star of david in the head. Others consult tmh for answers to timeless questions like how is the culture of Japenese in men and women or do fraggles have genitalia. The truth isn't here, but it's out there... further, further... keep going, a little further... warmer, hot, burning, on fire, melting, melting, surface of the sun... keep going, so very close, and... stop! Now never come back!

Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy?
Superstar football sensation Michael Vick and his performance art troupe / dog fighting title-holders the Bad Newz Kennels, may have, accidentally shot some dogs in the head, ok? Maybe they, allegedly, grabbed a few pooches by their wittle tails and slammed them face-first into flaming brick walls until their brains leaked out of their ears, and now the bleeding-heart animal rights activists are crying their tears of hemp and dreadlock grease. They'd have an argument if the dogs didn't know what they were getting into. Seriously, the Bad Newz Kennels? Obviously they're bad newz (sic)... I mean, one look at that "z" and it's pretty obvious that these boys don't fuck around. Yes, they've raised tens of thousands of dollars through their annual "Piknick -4- Cancer Kidz," and their semi-monthly "Stomp 'Dem Kitten Hedz" benefit dinners are second to none, but when it comes to beating dogs to death, they all bizne$$, nahmean?

We all know that killing an animal is just as bad, if not worse than killing a human (especially if the animal is ca-uuuuuuute hehehe zomg loves me some kittans!). I mean... seriously, folks. Who has time to worry about boring ol' humans getting blown to bits when there are puppy dogs that need our help! I know it's difficult, but let's take a break from signing our e-petitions for a moment and instead review the history of dog fighting, provided by Wikipediayhurt...

Dog fighting is quickly becoming American's favorite past-time, surpassing baseball and murder-suicide thanks to its edge-of-your-seat thrills and emaciated dog kills. It's a proud, noble sport that is as old as time - man vs. beast... except it's not a man, but instead another beast. Dog fighting originated thousands of years ago when dinosaurs roamed the earth. English cavemen would bet their hard-earned pence on Ungh the Velociraptor or Ptroy the Pterodactyl, both world champion dino fighters of their day. The extinction of the dinosaurs brought the sport to a screeching halt; however, underground battles were soon cropping up in the United States 20 years later in the late 1960's. Dinosaurs were replaced with dogs, pences were replaced with centses, but the true heart and soul of the game (animals killing the fucking shit out of each other for money) stayed in tact.

Thanks to the advent of radio and color commentary, localized versions of the sport were embraced by blood-thirsty fans. On April 2nd, 1972, hundreds of listeners turned their dials to WFYZ to hear the highly publicized Koala Bear versus A Basket Full of Hungry Kittens battle royale. The match's high point came in the 115th round when the koala bear put one of the kittens in its mouth, but he was only cleaning the hardened combatant. The crowd, confused by the overabundance of cuteness, beat the koala bear to death with a bamboo rod and gave the kittens a firm talking to. Then drowned them. The wild world of animal fighting has never recovered from this tragedy.

Michael Vick and the Bad Newz Kennels were just trying to bring dog fighting back to its stately, gentleman-ly roots. Y'know, back when those dogs weren't just fighting for their lives, they were fighting for... well, ok they were always fighting for their lives. And as a former athlete, I know how those dogs feel when they lose... see, I once pitched half an inning when I was in Little League, and thanks to a case of pre-game jitters, I drove in 157 runs. Even my parents, who were always supportive of their husky child in his skin-tight baseball leggings, refused to let me get in the car in front of the other parents, and I don't blame them one bit. After that goddamned abomination of an inning, I would have been grateful if my coach took me out behind the bleachers, hung me upside down and beat me to death with a sack of batting helmets. Vick did those loser-ass dogs a favor, and they should be thankful.

Look, I wasn't there, so who's to say if he actually deep-fried some puppies in battery acid, garnished them with asbestos and served them out of a hollowed-out dalmatian? Who among us isn't guilty of the same? Let he who is without sin cast the first stone... into the skull of a dog that would be sent to the glue factory if its stupid innards contained any of glue's active ingredients. Stupid piece of shit non-adhesive dog.



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