Okay, here’s a global science project that needs to be put on the top of the list. Far far above global warming, failing energy supplies, genetic engineering or even that stupid fucking space station that no one wants.
Screw the people of hurricane wracked Louisiana. Screw Iraq, Afghanistan, and a big fuck you to North Korea.
Forget about China rising, forget about the sea levels rising, forget about all the silly worries of your wasted life.
There’s a problem much more important than all that meaningless crap.
This problem is condoms. Man, it’s been a while since I needed them and I had forgotten about how annoying they are. They get in the way and that’s their purpose but still there’s got to be a better way! Where are the super-secret polymers developed by DARPA? Where are spray on shellacs that last all day and all night? Where are the goddamn nanobots with tiny lasers?!
We, as a people, as a global community, need to band together to once and solve a problem that has plagued mankind for countless orgasms. We need to solve this low-tech condom problem once and for all.
Where is modern science when we really need it?! Do I really need a computer that’s so fast it can calculate all of pi? Do I really need non-slip shoes to climb mountain or to watch guys frolic in space with a tile so fragile a mosquito farting near the thing can fracture it?
No. No one needs any of that shit. We need to get our priorities right. Call your congressman! Make signs and paste them over billboards! We’ve got to do whatever it takes to make condoms that don’t obliterate half the sensation!
It’s a national tragedy, I tell ya! Call out the guard and the alert the media! We need some news helecopters taking photos of this devestation!We’ve got to get the world on board before it’s too late!
Amen, brother. Hate the bloody things - they just obliterate performance, not even to mention spontaneity. But it’s really hard (erm, difficult) to be a successful libertine without them. One thing I’ve found that helps is I’ve started buying the larger ones. Now, I don’t want to stand up here in front of a billion web surfers and claim I’m extraordinarily well endowed or anything, but I will just say that I find the larger ones easier to deal with. [Interesting side note - they don't sell them in Britain, as far as I can tell. This led to a very un-British moment of vocal frustration, when I was fruitlessly scanning like my ninth condom aisle for Trojan Magnums, and I exclaimed - aloud - "Jesus Christ, doesn't anybody have a big dick in this country?!"]
The real solution, of course, is curing, once and for all, these fucking diseases. We’ve already got decent birth control - which a “French letter” is not - and which is a huge step. It was only a generation or two ago when having sex basically meant procreating. Can you imagine that? In another generation of so we’ll look back similarly horrified at the time when having sex basically meant significant risk of catching some horrifying disease. In’shallah.
Oh, do you know the old comedy sketch, where the guy comes out of the clinic with his arms raised in triumph, gleefully shouting, “Syphillis! I got SYPHILLIS!” (Because, if you don’t get the joke, that one is cureable. Which, importantly, it didn’t used to be.) I’ve had a couple of close calls myself - really, it’s a bloody miracle I’ve gotten this far with my sexual health intact . . . and that’s probably all the billion web surfers need to know for today . . .
I said “fucking diseases”. Heh heh.
I learned something today. Thank Michael! The British have tiny dicks. I guess that’s why they were so violent during the 1800s. A typical small man reaction.