Help My Improv, Please!

I know we spoke recently about how Atlas is currently homeless and that you’d be willing to help if the opportunity came up. Well, low and behold, that opportunity cometh! We set up a “Kickstarter” page, which is a fundraising website that allows artistic projects to seek aid from the kind, anonymous souls of the internet in exchange for some rewards. For instance, for a pledge of $50, we’ll give you your own improvised monologue. And so on. What’s nice about this is that if we don’t reach our goal ($12,000) by the intended deadline (August 15) no money exchanges hands, so it’s an all or nothing sort of thing and no on gets–for lack of a thesaurus–screwed. And it’s secure. Amazon runs the payment plan, and Amazon is, like, the king of taking money from folks online.

So that’s the long of it.

The short of it? I love you very much and I’m asking you for money to support my improv troupe. Here’s that website.

Thanks!

Let Me Tell You About A Human I Know

Last week I found out via Facebook that one of my oldest and closest friends had died. Then last night I found out (again, via Facebook) that Osama bin Laden had been killed. So there go all my friends on Facebook.

Ha.

Here is the thing that it is important about my friend who passed away (not Osama bin Laden). He was my introduction to porn. Every single type of porn. Magazine porn. Video porn. Internet porn. Imaginary porn. Dirty joke porn. Every single type of porn. Now, I realize that this may seem like a disgusting and awful way to remember someone, as the gilded Urshanabi, ferryman to the lusty heavens, but for a confused adolescent with fire in his groin, there was no better person to know. He had a 20-year-old step-brother who shared everything, a secret compartment in his closet, and a giving heart of gold, and he shared with me the most bizarre, unimaginable, and gorgeous images of coitus humanity has ever imagined , and for this my ten-year-old self thanks him. And so do I.

Lord I Just Can’t Keep From Crying Sometimes by Colin Stetson

I’m Famous

Well, my name is, at least. Check it out.

Leaving On A High Note

It’s better to get a little bit of pleasure than no pleasure at all. And that is why I masturbate.

Lampsturbation

This wish granted by xkcd.

200th Post!

From Scientific American. Get educated.

A guilty evening

It was weird. I had no idea what I was doing, nor what possessed me to grab my dick and wrench on it beside seeing a beautiful woman on the television. I can still remember the feeling of the sofa on my bare ass (fine grit sandpaper), the woman (Vivica A. Fox), and the weird feeling I had seeing semen for the first time.

Two major things that I think about often from that evening are the movie that motivated the action (Booty Call) and feeling obligated to tell my mother about what happened.

Well We Came Upon A Cracker

and we all came on this cracker.

In Other News

My kind of town, Los Angeles is.

Everything-Works-Out-In-The-Endsturbation

That library is this library, third paragraph down. Five years later it is finally revealed: I am King Midas, and all that I pee on, gold.