I have an un-cut cock.

I am no biblical follower of Abraham, and to tell you all the truth I’m proud to have an all natural Johnson. I love my foreskin for many reasons and here are my top five:

5. Accidental Zip-up Protection

4. Added characters for my penis puppetry act. (Hungry baby bird, Eiffel tower and so on) puppetryofthepenis.com

3. All of my girlfriends have been really into it. Some loved to play with it, and others have told me it feels better for them.

2. I can store food in the folds. Get a little hungry, pull it back and enjoy!

1. No lube necessary when I’m hanging out with Jack’lin (I’m talking about Jerkin it here)

I know for a fact that there are a few other rad people with retractable dick heads around here so lets hear what you all have to say.

Any neat stories about the uncut cock?

Any Horror stories?

What do the ladies have to say? Do you prefer one over the other?

Someone arrived at The Churning last week after Googling what do guys think of inverted nipples? (Somehow they ended up at my post about back dimples.)

I had never really thought of it before. In fact, I don’t think I had ever seen an inverted nipple - in person or even a picture. But you know me. I love to give advice and I certainly don’t mind doing a little milk-sack research. Check out my answer to the question and a couple of NSFW pics after the jump…
(more…)

The Churning Loyalists all know I’m completely obsessed with checking my web traffic stats, especially to see where I’m showing up in the search engines. Well, last week someone arrived at The Churning by googling do chicks like giving blowjobs? I guess I should take this opportunity to give a little advice.

See, I suspect women enjoy giving head about as much as men like eating pussy. Some love it, some hate it, and others do it as a kind gesture.

It reminds me of a recent conversation I had with some close friends. We were arguing which is the bigger favor - or rather, which is more unpleasant. The girls in the group all agreed that sucking cock must be worse than munching carpet (not that they’d know - some of the girls never ate a girl out before). They assumed that based on the taste of funky spooge, cocksucking is probably the bigger task.

But my argument is that licking clit always involves lady juice. Knob gobbling, on the other hand, doesn’t always have to end with throat yogurt. A woman can stop early, using it as a precursor to other activities.

So now I ask you all to chime in…

We have two questions to address. And remember, this is all in the name of friendly advice for random web surfers:

1. Do women like giving blowjobs?
2. Which is more of a favor - sucking cock or eating pussy?

Remember way back in the day when The Churning would collect super awesome lists of euphemisms for sex terms? You goddamn better remember. One of our classic lists still gets search engine hits on a daily basis, so I figured I’d bring it back and see if you guys can come up with any more additions. Todays topic is: Euphemisms for Masturbating (Male or Female Masturbation).

1. A date with Palmela Handerson
2. Acting out the grapes of wrath
3. Backing your fist
4. Bang yourself
5. Beat the beaver
6. Beating my meat
7. Beating the bishop
8. Bop the bologna
9. Choking the chicken
10. Clap your clit
11. Clean the bean
12. Clicking the mouse
13. Dating Hannie Palmer
14. Diddle my skittle
15. Diddling
16. Donald trump firing his apprentice
17. Double clicking the mouse
18. Fiction friction
19. Fire off some knuckle-children
20. Five finger shuffle
21. Flickin’ the kitten
22. Flicking the bean
23. Flog the dolphin
24. Fucking yourself
25. Getting trigger happy
26. Going fishing with the man in the boat
27. Going to the palm prom
28. Greasin’ the gash
29. Hand to gland combat
30. Having a knee trembler
31. Hit the slit
32. Hitchhike To The Sky
33. Holding your sausage hostage
34. Indiana Jones finding a sweet dig
35. Jacking off
36. Jerkin the gerkin
37. Jerking off
38. Jibber jab
39. Jilling off
40. Let the beaver swim
41. Lubing the tube
42. Making it snow
43. Making my girl happy
44. Making stomach pancakes
45. Milking the cow
46. One handed baseball
47. Painting the ceiling
48. Pet the poodle
49. Petting the kitty
50. Playing air guitar naked
51. Playing pocket pool
52. Playing tug of war with the cyclops
53. Pole dancing
54. Polishing the pearl
55. Pumping the keg
56. Revving the engine
57. Roughing up the suspect
58. Rub the nub
59. Rubbing one out
60. Rubbing Rob Reiner
61. Ruin your eyesight
62. Scrach and sniff
63. Scraping off the scabs
64. Scratch n’ sniff
65. Shake and steak
66. Shuffle your Ipod
67. Slam the clam
68. Slapping the salami
69. Slicking Willie
70. Spanking the monkey
71. Spinnin’ a record
72. Squishing the squidgie
73. Stroking it
74. Stroking the one-eyed snake
75. Taking care of my business
76. Tapping the wookie on the head
77. Thinking of your mom
78. Tick the taco
79. Tickle your pickle
80. Turning Japanese
81. Two-finger tango
82. Visit from the five-fingered aunty
83. Visiting Rosy Palms and her five sisters
84. Walking the dog
85. Wax on, whack off
86. Whippin off a batch
87. Wrestling the one eyed monster

I’m going to make this as simple for everyone as possible. 

Guys watch porno because:

1.) We get bored.

2.) We get to see things they would not normally consider attempting with our significant other.

3.) We have dicks.

4.) Because we like looking at “nekkid womans”. 

5.) And because sometimes, we just want to jerk off.  Jesus Christ.  I mean, honestly, you have no idea the needs of the goddamned gonad.  Like a zombie craving a delicious helping of brains, the fearsome Gonad hungers for a shot at your title.

Seriously, I mean what would you do if you had a raging boner and a stack full of porno starring “The woman with no gag reflex”.  And the end of the day, you can’t use his porno watching as a blame game for your self-esteem issues. 

That said, some women are cool as shit.   My wife for example, lets me watch all the porn I want.  She doesn’t care and it doesn’t bother her.  She, my best friend, gets it.  And she’s not afraid of watching a good porno herself.

So my advice is to figure out how much you’re willing to be comfortable with and then explain that up front to him in plain english.  And if he is willing to contend with that, then there you go.  If not, it is probably because porn is a deal breaker with him and you would have just ended up fighting about it endlessly until things ended in a fucking disaster. 

Ok?  You don’t need Cosmo or fucking anything else to tell you what your guy wants.  He will tell you, just ask.

Ok, I’m actually going to write a post for The Churn-stile.

(Calm down, just breathe. JJ will probably post tomorrow, and I’ll go back to making weird cartoons. It’s ok. I’m ok. You’re ok. Actually, fuck that. I. AM. NOT. OK. And you fucking aren’t either. Doesn’t honesty feel better?)

So I’m talking to this friend of mine (and yeah dude, it’s gonna be vague, because I don’t know if his/her significant other reads this site.), and I get told that he/she (henceforth known as Dana) is thinking about having an affair with a coworker.

Now, you guys know me, I’m married. My wife was married once before as well. To a guy who cheated on her like there was no tomorrow. So, naturally she has a skewed view, in regards to “cheating bastard cockpricks”[sic]. And like Jules tells Brad, that pretty much means I’m required to subscribe to the exact same doctrine.

But, seeing Dana so excited, yet miserable and torn has made concrete a theory that I’ve been working on.

• Guys cheat because they truly and completely think with their dicks.

• Gals cheat because their significant other simply doesn’t communicate with them. Or doesn’t go carpet diving. You know, either one.

*Note: You’ll notice that these are vague, broad generalizations about human nature and I’m basing it on absolutely no proof. Hey!, if it’s good enough for Dubbyah then it’s good enough for me.*

So, Dana is torn about cheating, and yet still plans to do it. And the following conversation happens:

Dana: So, does this make me a bad person?

Me: I don’t know…jeez…I hate to say it, but I think so. I mean, jesus, you’re married.

Dana: Yeah, and I love (SUSIE/JOHN), but lately things have been so difficult. We hardly talk, and God, I can’t remember the last time we (George W. Bush Whisper Style) liberated our sexual freedoms (/George W. Bush Whisper Style).

Me: But don’t you owe it to (SUSIE/JOHN) to be honest? I mean, what if (SUSIE/JOHN) is having an affair. How are you going to feel if that’s the case?

Dana: Well, that’s different. I don’t think I can forgive that.

Me: Are you fucking retarded? You expect to be forgiven for what you’re going to do, and yet admit that you wouldn’t forgive (SUSIE/JOHN)?

Dana: I mean, yeah, that’s what I’m saying, I guess. Why are you so hostile, aetheist?

Me: Excuse me? What does aetheism have to do with fucking around on your spouse?

Dana: Well, I mean, Marriage is only a religious thing, right? So why do you give a fuck?

Me: ……

Dana: What?!?

Me: You’ve got to be fucking kidding. You’re using aetheism to validate your need to “bus’ a nut”[sic] and at the same time negate any responsiblity for your actions?

Dana: Well, yeah. I mean, seriously, we’re not meant to be monogamous. I’m just lonely, you know? I want to feel that connection.

Me: No you’re not. You’re bored. And you want some excitement. Do what I do, download some porn, get out the lube and rub one out. Then, tell me if you still want to cheat.

Dana: That’s not going to fix the problem.

Me: Well, yeah, considering your problem is your marriage.

Dana: What?!!?!?!

Me: Look, if you’re that hard up for a lay that you’re going to cheat; with a coworker, no less, then you need to go home and talk to your spouse. Because obviously things are seriously wrong.

Dana: You’ve never lusted after someone else?

Me: Oh, no, I’m not saying that. I lust after chicks all the time. Hell, at any given moment on any given day, I’m probably lusting after some chick. I mean, raw dog hardcore degrading shit, you know? But then this weird thing happens in my head, I have an entire relationship with that chick inside of 5 minutes, and you know what?

Dana: What?

Me: At the end of the day, my wife treats me better than any of them would. Look, if you can honestly tell me you don’t love or respect (SUSIE/JOHN) then do it. Fuck who you want, when you want. But if you can’t tell me that, you owe it to them to either: A) Fix things at home or B) GET A FUCKING DIVORCE.

Dana: Whatever. I don’t even know why I talked to you about this. You’re such a dick.

Me: You’re just mad that I’m an aethiest (that’s an entirely different argument) and I happen to be right about fucking everything. And the worst part? You feel guilty because you don’t have the stones to face up to what you want or want to do.

Dana: ….

Me: *sigh*Fine. You are right. Cheating is fine. I suppose that’s why it’s called ‘Cheating’. Do what you will, who am I to judge?

So, in the end, I guess Dana’s friendship is more important to me than Dana’s marriage. Sorry, Dana’s spouse. My bad.

To me, the thing that is revolutionary about this is that I called Dana out. Not only did I say what I honestly thought was right, but what I really felt. And that kind of honesty, amidst all this Cloak and Dagger Co-Worker Fucking, gave me a chubby.

(Image from tribe.net’s bumples gallery)

Back dimples are the new pokey nipples. Going sans bra isn’t enough these days, ladies. Guys are apparently paying a lot of attention to the lower back now too. Just check out the photo galleries from tribe.net, the jotsheet, and item girls. Those fuckers are obsessed and I say it’s a totally healthy obsession.

Some people call them butt dimples, but that brings to mind images of cottage cheese filled meatbags. It seems like most ogling fetishists refer to them as back dimples, which is too bad, because that term is as boring as a stale loaf of bread. The official name for these little love divots is dimples of Venus. According to Wiki:

The phrase dimples of Venus refers to the pair of sagittally symmetrical indentations sometimes visible on the human lower back, just superior to the gluteal cleft. The dimples are directly superficial to the two sacroiliac joints, the sites where the sacrum attaches to the ilium of the pelvis.

In other words, they’re the two little cups that our divine creator carved out of back fat to give guys a place to deposit jizz.

Do you love back dimples? Do you have them? Do you wish you did?

Recently someone arrived at The Churning after searching for the phrase why does my boyfriend look at porn.  That’s a silly question.   You can’t ask the internet why your boyfriend looks at porn.  You gotta ask your boyfriend.  For all I know, he’s got a fetish for watching women give blowjobs to albino horses.

Still, I want to provide a service to our dear readers.  So I’m going to once again ask for help from The Churning Loyalists.  Today, we’re going to create a list: reasons guys look at porn.  I’ll start things off.  Leave a comment with your suggestions.

1. Online porn is free (if you know where to look).
2. Guys like to sport wood.  Porn can make that happen anytime.
3. Porn chicks do some really fucked up shit and they act like they enjoy it.
4. You can find porn for any fetish.  It’s much more difficult to find an actual real life girl who’s into whatever sick shit you’re into.
5. Women are beautiful.  Naked women are even better.  Naked women fucking are the best.

This cartoon was brought to you by the letters:

C-O-C and K!

Appreciate the cock, ladies!

We’re obssessed with sex.

This morning, I realized I haven’t written any actual content here in a while, so I started digging through my list of “stories I should tell on The Churning.”  Somehow I’ve managed to let several months pass without telling you about the sex club I visited while in Thailand.  How could I rob you of this valuable information?!?

Momo and I were in Bangkok hanging out with a friend of a friend.  She’s the Thai travel agent who helped arrange our trip, but because we share some of the same friends, she offered to show us around the city.

We ate dinner at a pub, as I downed several vodka Red Bulls.  I know, that’s a drink for douchebag frat boys and coked-out sluts.  But it’s also the perfect combination for getting over jet lag while catching a buzz.

So as we ate, we talked about the sort of things Momo and I wanted to do in Bangkok.  “Oh, we want to see the Imperial Palace, the Reclining Buddha, and we want to check out Kho San (the hippie hangout for ex-pat Americans).”  The agent’s reaction: “Don’t you want to see Patpong?”

Now in case you’re not familiar with Bangkok, Patpong is the city’s version of Amsterdam’s Red Light District.  That’s where you go to hook up with trannies, buy a massive dildo, or watch a woman shoot vegetables out of her most intimate area.  Of course we answered, “Hell yes.”  A couple of drinks later, we walked over to the strip of sex clubs.

And as we neared our destination, dozens of stylish young Thai men started giving me the eye, quietly murmuring to each other as they ogled.  Momo noticed, “JJ, those guys are staring at you.”  Our friend confirmed our suspicions, “Yeah, Patpong is a popular gay hangout.  They love blond boys.”  I was flattered and uncomfortable at the same time.

The clubs were surrounded by crowds of people bustling by looking for the best bang for their buck.  There were trannies and bikini girls standing outside each seedy doorway trying to lure potential customers.  They were shouting at passers by with the tone of a carnival barker, “Step right up!  See pretty girls naked!  Watch them do sexy tricks!”

It seemed odd, but our friend somehow knew the owners of several of these fine establishments.  She helped us weasel our way into one of them with a discounted cover charge and no drink minimum.  It pays to travel with a local!

The club was designed like a typical U.S. strip club, with a stage in the center and seating all around.  But the lighting wasn’t dim and the crowd wasn’t quiet like you might find here in the U.S.  Instead, the audience was cheering, the place was bright, and the music was booming.  We took a seat at a table in the back of the club and ordered beers.

Six young women were on stage, each completely naked except for their overgrown pubes.  Let’s assume these six women were of legal age (I really hope they were).  The nude dancers just sort of stood there looking bored.  A couple of them tried to keep moving, but I wouldn’t call it dancing.  It looked more like the kind of dancing a nervous boy would do as he stood next to the wall alone at his first school dance.

The girls each took a turn at the center of the stage as the rest stood and watched.  One after the other, they showed off their specialty, you know, their particular “trick.”

The first dancer took a seat in the middle of the stage next to a plate full of unripe bananas.  She peeled one and broke it in half.  She rolled onto her back, knees by her ears with her vag pointing up in the air, then shoved the half-banana in her hole.  She rolled forward then back again quickly, shooting the fruit several feet into the air and caught it with her hands.

The crowd exploded, but the dancer barely cracked a smile.  She repeated the trick several times and the crowd was loving it.  Then she moved into a “crab” position, with her back to the floor propped up on her hands and feet.  She shoved in another banana piece, lowered her pelvis toward the floor, then raised her vag back up again in a quick motion.  The banana shot across the club like a rocket, landing on a table nearly 20 feet away.

The next girl did similar tricks with potatoes.  And another followed with hard-boiled eggs.  By this point we were literally getting sick to our stomachs.  At first it was fascinating and a little sad.  But eventually it was downright depressing.  Plus I may never be able to eat hard-boiled eggs again.

As the last girl walked into the spotlight, I scanned the stage for her props.  No vegetables?  No fruits?  No food of any kind?  But there they were - several bottles of club soda.

Yep, you know what’s next… She crouched down into a squat, hovering over one of the bottles.  She lowered herself onto the top of the bottle, then bobbed for a minute, fucking the bottle top.  She reached down and grabbed the bottle with one hand, clenched her vag muscles, and twisted.  Club soda fizzed out of her hole and onto the stage.  I swear this woman should move to Beverly Hills and teach the Kegel technique to millionaires for $500 an hour.

I was clearly impressed, but I had seen enough.  We headed out to a bar and sat down to decompress over several more vodka Red Bulls.

So, my cousin comes over yesterday and well he asks if I need a “pick-me-up” (read: fatty-boom-batty). So he rolls up the stickiest of the icky, and we proceed to get baked.

Suddenly, the phone rings! Now, usually when I’m high, I avoid the phone for obvious reasons. But I thought it might be important, so I answered the phone. The following conversation transpired:

Me: Uhm…Hullo?
Lady: Hello sir, I’m calling on behalf of the Special Olympics which will be in the Richmond, Virginia area soon. The Special Olympics offer a lifetime of enjoyment for the Athletes. The Special Olympics do not receive any funding from the goverment and I’m calling today to accept your pledge to donate for the Special Olympics. Donating can bring just as much enjoyment to you as the Special Olympics brings to our athletes. We have three levels of donating, silver, gold and platinum. Which shall I mark you down for sir?
Me: I don’t have any cash. Can I give them food?
Lady: Well, sir I understand your hesitancy, however you don’t have to pay right now…I ..wait..did you ask about food for the athletes?
Me: Well, I mean yeah, man. I mean, not just the athletes though. I mean, what about the audience and volunteers and shit man. Like..how are they all going to eat?
Lady: I’m not sure about that..let me get my manager for you.
Manager: Hello, sir? How may I help you?
Me: I just want to know where to send the food.
Manager:For the athletes?
Me:For the people, man. The people.
*awkard silence*
Manager:Do you own a catering business, sir?
Me:No. Nothing like that. I’m just a guy.
Manager:Well, why would (she gets condescending here) ‘just a guy’ want to give food to the Special Olympics?
Me:Because, man, the audience can’t eat money, can they? I mean, you don’t eat money, do you? It’s not very nutritious. Do you know how dirty money is, bro?
Manager:I think I understand. Let me give you the number to our corporate offices and you can talk to them about your interest.
Me:Why can’t I talk to you? I haven’t offended you, have I?
Manager:Uh..No sir. I just want to give you this number.
Me:You sound hot. Wanna go out, later? I’m super horny and I’ve got a massive erection.
*click*

Update 01/04/2007: If you’d like to add to the list, use this link.
Okay people - time to update another list. This time, we’re dealing with euphemisms for masturbation. Jimmy started this one a while back and The Churning Loyalists added to the list via comments. I’d hate to see all that effort go to waste. So whip it out, rub one off, and add a few suggestions.

1. Bang yourself
2. Beat the beaver
3. Beating the bishop
4. Bop the bologna
5. Choking the chicken
6. Clap your clit
7. Clicking the mouse
8. Diddle my skittle
9. Diddling
10. Donald trump firing his apprentice
11. Double clicking the mouse
12. Fiction friction
13. Fire off some knuckle-children
14. Five finger knuckle shuffle
15. Flicking the bean
16. Flog the dolphin
17. Fucking yourself
18. Getting trigger happy
19. Going fishing with the man in the boat
20. Going to the palm prom
21. Greasin’ the gash
22. Hand to gland combat
23. Hit the slit
24. Hitchhike To The Sky
25. Holding your sausage hostage
26. Indiana Jones finding a sweet dig
27. Jerkin the gerkin
28. Jilling off
29. Let the beaver swim
30. Lubing the tube
31. Making my girl happy
32. Pet the poodle
33. Petting the kitty
34. Playing air guitar naked
35. Playing pocket pool
36. Playing Tug of War With the Cyclops
37. Polishing the pearl
38. Roughing up the suspect
39. Rubbing one out
40. Rubbing Rob Reiner
41. Ruin your eyesight
42. Scratch n’ sniff
43. Shake and steak
44. Shuffle your Ipod
45. Slam the clam
46. Slapping the salami
47. Spanking the monkey
48. Spinnin’ a record
49. Stroking it
50. Taking care of my business
51. Tapping the wookie on the head
52. Tick the taco
53. Turning Japanese
54. Two-finger tango
55. Visiting Rosy Palms and her five sisters
56. Walking the dog
57. Wax on, whack off

I’m so proud of The Churning loyalists. I asked for sex euphemisms and you came through. (Heheheh… “Came through.” That almost sounds like something that should be on the list.)

Anyway, We’re ready for more suggestions. We’re looking specifically for euphemisms for intercourse (vaginal or anal). Here’s the list so far. Add yours in the comments section.

1. Stem the flower
2. Bumpin’ uglies
3. Knocking boots
4. Lay pipe
5. Park the car in the garage
6. Put the frank in the bun
7. Moose lip action
8. Throwing a hotdog down a hallway
9. Vulcanize the whoopee stick in the ham wallet
10. Poke the crack
11. Saddaming the spiderhole
12. Punching the kitten
13. Parkin’ the beef bus in tuna town
14. Hot meat injection
15. Glazing the donut
16. Putting the meat in the taco
17. Playing sit and spin
18. Pickle tickle
19. Sinkin the pink torpedo
20. Knocking the bottom out
21. Bang
22. Hump
23. Screw
24. Do it
25. Nookie
26. Hangin out
27. Shag
28. Fuck
29. Hide the salami
30. Playing chess
31. Getting stuffed
32. Put my bike in your trunk
33. Taggin’ shit
34. Rockin’ the van
35. The horizontal Mambo
36. Surfing the rim

Got masturbation euphemisms? That thread’s here.