You Are Dirty, Dirty People
Let me explain.
The site keeps track of the search terms that you fine, upstanding weirdos are using to discover this website, and boy, am I glad it does. Because if it didn’t, I would never know that you found this site via searching for the following terms:
“Man sucks off monkey”
“Crushing feet sex”
“Free movies of big clits”
“Lee Majors penis size”
And, most recent and most favorite:
(drum roll, please)
“Insects in my ass”
That last one kind of… curled my noodle. It means that Someone is searching for that term on purpose. This Someone is looking for it either because he is plagued by the problem of having insects in his ass, or he is Someone who wants to have insects in his ass.
So, I’m left to wonder: do people want insects in their ass? Is that a thing? Anytime I think, “Shit, that can’t be real,” you look online and there’s at least three people who… y’know, gloomily masturbate to some made-up, almost impossible fetish. (“I want my girlfriend to dress up as a monkey, who is in turn dressing up as a butler, and I want her to duct tape a banana in my mouth. Is that weird?”) And hey, more power to them. As long as everybody’s signed the right consent forms, enjoy. Do whatever makes your grapefruit squirt.
Investigating this, however, took me down a fast wrong turn, and before I knew it, I was deep down the drain with the clots of hair and rat bones and goat placentas.
The Internet is home to some truly amazing — and truly bewildering — sexual fetishes.
Furries — a.k.a. those people who dress up in animal costumes and bang each other, or watch other people in animal costumes making the erm, beast with two backs — is almost so commonplace that it’s barely a fetish anymore. I’m happy I’m not dating these days, because I’m afraid I’ll meet some woman and we’ll go back to her place and she’ll start getting out a swan costume or something. (And by the way, that makes Zeus the original furry, because that guy was always ravishing chicks as a bull or a swan. Not to mention he’s all over the place turning people into dogs and turtles and shit.) I’ll be like, “Hey, yeah, no,” and she’ll turn her nose down at me because I must be one of those people on the Internet who do it human-style (also known as “skinnies!”).
I’m happy that these people have found their niche, really. I do wonder though, if you’re trying to hump some chick in a giraffe costume, doesn’t that mean you maybe kinda sorta want to hump an actual giraffe? (I don’t recommend that, by the way. Giraffes look cute, but they will fuck your shit up. Giraffes know some dark moves.) I’m just happy you’ve sidelined your bestiality.
Yup. They’re out there: people who want sex with mythic creatures. Don’t believe me? Clicky-clicky, non-believer. I guess this is pretty harmless, given that dragons don’t exist. Though I guess it could get out of control? You’ll know if it does, because some dude will be arrested at the zoo when a Komodo dragon bites off his peener. And at least there’s no unicorn porn. (Oh, no.) Well, fine. Hopefully no one has violated poor Humbaba.
From what I can tell, “crush porn” comes in a couple flavors. The first is semi-harmful but entirely consensual: people stepping on people. Hey, cool. A boot-heel smushing your junk like it’s a still-smoldering cigarette? You signed on for it. Russian kick dance on your boobs and butt? Go you. The second variety involves stepping on rodents and bugs, and this might be the origin of why someone was looking for insects in his ass. If you get a sexual thrill from stepping on (and harming) harmless animals, you should probably just fellate a gun barrel instead. I don’t think that star-nosed mole under your cha-cha boots signed a consent form, Charo. And no, I’m not suggesting Charo maims animals for sexual pleasure, just in case her lawyers are poking around (and if they are, I’ll ask them: what search term did they use to get here?).
The Stuck Fetish
Another fetish with a few “sub-varieties.” One variety — demonstrated by Little Miss Gum Gams, here — involves getting stuck in some kind of gluey substance, like bubblegum or road tar or maybe a movie theater floor (“I’m so hot for melted gummi bears and boot-stepped nacho cheese”). Another variety involves what could only be described as “extremely clautrophobic shit.” A girl gets her leg caught in a hole, or a dude shoves half his body into a rolled-up carpet and can’t get out (this latter sub-sub-variety is called the “Stuck Headfirst” fetish). The former variety, I almost understand. Stepping in gum is totally crappy, but being stuck I guess simulates a bondage aspect. Kay, fine, sure. But cramming your body in a hole? I know people who panic when they get on an elevator or drive through a tunnel. I don’t have claustrophobia now, but you shove half my body in a sinkhole, and I’m damn sure going to develop it. Especially when I can’t, y’know, breathe. I’m getting weirded-out just thinking about this.
At this point, I’m almost like, “Eh, who cares? Guy wants to sex up an android, sure. Girl needs all holes filled with cyborg pistons, whatever makes her tumescent.” (Sorry, I just wanted to say “tumescent.”) My greatest fear, though, is that I’m going to come home one day and find somebody trying to mouth-rape a Roomba. And I don’t even own a Roomba.
You’ll note I’m not doing these in any kind of order. I’m kind of discovering them as I do, which is like feeling your way in a dark room and your hand keeps falling on sweat-slick unicorn pelts and sticky leather. Anyway. This one might also be the source of the “insects in my ass” search term, because apparently, some people (hopefully no more than, say, five of them) like to let bugs crawl on their junk. I guess that’s fine, I just know that if a centipede or a spider ever does the soft-shoe on my Mister Man, it will be at least a year and a day before I will once more be able to achieve erection. Or “tumescence.” Hey. Wasn’t he the satyr in that Narnia book?
Anyway, the point here is, I don’t think that praying mantis asked to participate in your sexual experience, pal.
Aren’t these people basically “furries,” except… without a human partner? Some guy dry-humping a giraffe costume? I guess that’s cool. Just don’t touch my Care Bears. I get it, her name is “Love-A-Lot Bear,” but that doesn’t mean she’s asking for it. Go put the moves on Paddington. He’s super-lonely! Plus, he looks like a flasher, or some dirty old pervert fisherman.
The thought process here must go something like this: “I really like wearing latex. It makes me feel sexy. Hey, aren’t balloons made of latex? Yeah. Yeah, they are. I will now have sex with a balloon.” That just has to make the worst possible noise. All that rubbery squeaking? It’s like a nightmare. A nightmare with clown sex. Which calls to mind…
No! No. I draw the line here, Internet. No clown sex for anybody! What the fuck is wrong with you? All that honking? The smeared greasepaint? The cake? (And yes, I am now also familiar with Cake Farts, Sweet Jeebus I’m going to scoop out my eyes and shove them into my goddamn ears). Hey, you want to gussy yourself up in a goat costume and fake-bang a plush pegasus on a floor covered in glue traps? Get in there and give a thumbs-up when you’re done. But clowns? Clown sex? Cake farts? This is why Rome burned. Wasn’t the barbarians. Wasn’t nascent Christianity. Wasn’t an Empire spread too thin. Instead of bread and circuses, it was clown sex and cake farts. We’re doomed. Western civilization is orbiting the drain, people. You go to some Third World village and show him a YouTube video of some clown poop-fucking a cake or something, and that person will kill you and cut off your penis because you are some kind of evil sorcerer. And they’d be right to do so! Shame. Shame on you, Internet! Can’t you just fuck a robot like the rest of us?