Thursday, December 30, 2010

Next Time, Blame the Tabasco!

I think I am going to make Tabasco my excuse for everything from now on. Seriously. Or at least if it works for this guy. It seems this 50-year old guy was on a flight, seated next to a 17 year old high school cheerleader. Mid-flight, she glances at the guy, and he has one hand on his laptop which is on top of the tray table, and his other hand is under the tray table and he is apparently masturbating. When he was arrested, he claimed that he wasn't masturbating, but rather trying to quell an itch brought on by him spilling Tabasco sauce on his penis. He told police that he didn't have his junk out, but rather that his hand was inside his pants trying to deal with his discomfort.

All I can say is PUH-LEASE! First of all, how could he have spilled hot sauce on his nether regions if it weren't out? In her statement to police, she said that she could "clearly see the mans penis going side to side under the tray table that was down." Wait, maybe it was a Tabasco incident gone wrong. He wasn't masturbating, he was waving it in the air ... fanning it, if you will, to quell the burn.

While we are on the subject of disgusting things, I will never complain about my house being a mess any more. Especialy after reading this article about the Playboy Mansion. Past playmates who have left the Playboy Mansion have spoken out about the conditions they have to live under. The house dog never goes outside. It pees on the curtains and poops on the floor in Hef's room. In his "girlfriend's" rooms, the furniture doesn't match and looks like it was bought at a thrift store. The mattressess in their rooms were stained and worn, and the sheets and blankets were threadbare.

When going out with Hef, they would drink champaine and take qualludes to get them in the mood for sex, not because they wanted to, but because Hef would tell them to. Hef would have sex parties in the master bedroom twice weekly for which he would need to take large doses of viagra.

The girls had to be there for this (though they did not have to participate every time, they still had to be in the room), and they had a 9pm curfiew, except for when Hef would take them out. In exchange for this, the girlfriends recieve a $1000 per week allowance.

I don't live in a mansion, I don't have a harem, but somehow, I think I am far happier than Hugh Hefner right now.

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