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Do you guys think about Jesus when you masturbate?

Nathan

Nathan

New member
I do sometimes but in my mind he's a really hot blonde chick who knows how to have a good time.
Also, I think marbles are strange to tell you the truth. I sometimes wonder who came up with the idea to make lots of tiny balls that come in assorted colors and then sell them to children. They obviously had no concern for the choking hazard that they so obviously present.
I think what's important here is that we remember that we all have genitals whether we'd like to admit it or not. I know I sometimes deny that I have a penis but the fact remains that I do. Don't even get me started about my testicles. Anyway, I feel that if we can all remember those things than we won't have to fight anymore. Fighting leads to hate, which leads to prostitution and morbid obesity though I'm not exactly sure how. So, in conclusion, don't love to hate, just hate to love. That, and don't forget to think about Jesus when you masturbate. Trust me, you won't be sorry. :)
 
This board is not big enough for HappyScrappy AND Nathan.

I think they should have a duel to the death.... and I get all promotional rights.
 
Whenever I masturbate in the library, I always wonder if there are dead people there watching me. It is one thing to have living people watch you, but the idea of dead people walking around sort of is creepy. Especially if you couldn't see them. Because then you might think you are flogging the dolphin all by your lonesome, but in reality, you could be in the middle of a dead people arena, being cheered on like Sonny and Cher.
Also angels are invisible too. Except for Wally Joyner, you can see him. Just not anymore because I think he retired. My grandparents are retired, but none of them are retarded. I went to school with some retarded kids. Some wore helmets - and they weren't on the football team. Although some of the kids on the football team were pretty retarded too. Our coach was also the gym teacher. He was way into prayer before events like games or showers - which I didn't think was right since there is some law that says you can't pray in school. Which makes me wonder if it is because they are worried that Jesus is watching, and that he might be masturbating from the power trip of all the kids praying.

is that offensive enough?
 
Did you know that Jesus likes it when you ejaculate on his forehead? He finds it helps him concentrate on performing miracles. That's the real reason he was crucified. He had the mayor's son ejaculate on his forehead one too many times and that made the mayor especially angry since his son was not to be ejaculating on anyone's forehead but his own.

Was that offensive enough?

Seriously though, I think pretzels are oddly out of place in the bread industry. They don't seem to have a niche and I think that's why pretzel venders generally aren't the upper class members of society they should be. Also, I think oranges are the most racist fruit out there. First, it's named after the color of its skin which frankly isn't fair and you guys fucking know it. Second, most people prefer it in a subservient juice form which goes to show that prejudice exists on many different levels. Everyone's always trying to change the orange into something it really doesn't want to be and I'm tired of it. i say let's leave the orange alone. Don't hate on it cause it's a little differnet and possibly homosexual.
This brings me to the rectum of the apple. I'm not sure, but I think that puckered round thing on the bottom of apples is, in fact, their rectum. I'm not sure what exactly it is they excrete out of that particular orifice, but I will say this, it isn't the type of substance one should consciencly rub on their genitals.
 
Dude, you obviously know nothing about fruit. Fruit is when a flower loves another flower and then they make sweet sweet love. After that, the hot mamma flower gets "preggers" and in that stage, they are fruit. They are full of sugary nutritional goodness so that when they fall from the tree and rot, the seeds inside are like, damn, that's good food. Also they are tasty so that giraffes will take them off the trees and then eat them, distributing the seeds throughout the land via their wild excrement parties.
So you see, the fruit has no rectum at all - you are mearly personifying one there because you are obsessed with them.
You want to know why you are obsessed with them? I would blame it on sports. In sports, young males are constantly made to focus on their own ass, as well as the ass of those around them. Getting smacked on the ass for a "good play", doing butt kicks to improve their legspeed in track, having a mere aquaintance tear off their pants and anally violate them one drunken night in college - you get the point. Men are raised to be obsessed with Ass. I mean, hell - we had the audacity to make a donkey. Breeding a horse and a mule. Or was it we made the mule by breeding a horse and a donkey. Either way, I know that there was some horse cock in there. And semen - don't forget that. Can never forget that.
 
Where's all the Christians that posted on the "Does Jesus Exist" thread? I'd like their opinion on this topic.
 
I had forgotten about your fruit fetish my friend. I'll post that PM you sent me so that everyone knows where you're coming from:

"I totally have sex with fruit all the time. I like to incorparate one of those nifty contraptions that takes the cores out of apples. Then, I insert my erect penis into the apple and thrust repeatedly. I love my penis.
Also, I enjoy inserting peeled bananas into my rectum in an attempt to make it touch my prostate. It usually doesn't make it that far but when it does I have been known to crow like a rooster. I try to avoid pineapples cause that's a trip to the emergency room waiting to happen, but sometimes I can't help myself. One time, I rubbed my testicles against the skin of a pineapple for 3 whole hours. I had unfortunately removed such a great deal of flesh from the region that the doctor informed me he would have to graft excess skin from my immense love handles to my deformed testicles."

My response:

"No pablo engleis senor."

He couldn't take a hint so he wrote back with this:

"I also molest cattle on weekends. It's good, wholesome fun for the whole family, or at least I think so. I like to suck their utters while humping their hooves. One time, an especially large cow step backwards onto my scrotum and it burst. That was another trip to the emergency room that I had hoped to avoid. Oh, I almost forgot, I REALLY enjoy masturbating to pictures of pregnant birds in National Geographic magazine. Nothing gets me going more than pregnant birds. My mom is kinda upset though that I've ruined all her magazines what with having to ejaculate on the pics. It isn't the same if I can't ejaculate on a picture of a pregnant bird. Flamingos are my favorite."
 
while I do really enjoy your humor, I personally feel that you recycle the word "rubbing" and the word "genitals" too much.
I think if you start using other terms, you will find that the hilarity of your posts goes up that last notch to help bring you to a more robust orgasm that I know you have been seeking.

as for my love for fruit, and your inability to speak English - that is at best irrelevant to the discussion at hand - which would be my jock itch and what it has to do with Jesus watching me waterski on mount baldy.
For instance, think if you will of me throttling my chicken, free from onlookers, just sitting there in my car at little league practice, approaching the zen of orgasm on a sunny day.
Now back that up and imagine Jesus there. I'm sitting there with my hand wrapped around my love pole, smacking the shit out of the proverbial midget between my legs, when I sense that Jesus is watching me. It gives me a sensation that I find lingers on both guilt and discomfort, melded together in an unpleasantness that I'd rather not bear the weight of during my workouts of love. So what do I do? I end up trying to hold it in, pressing my now sweaty legs together against my love log, holding in my passion and repressing the urges until finally they pass, after thinking of Martha Stewart making meat puppets with shit smeared all over her face and the kind of grin one has when they are getting away with something, just a little bit evil.
the sweaty pressing like that in the end gives me jock itch - and one might even go so far as to say that the itching and burning is really from the dear lord jesus himself reaching out and smiting me for my sins.

This is of course assuming you mean Jesus as in the dude that could turn water into wine, could walk on water, and died on a cross. If you mean the guy that does landscaping for the Wilsons down the street - I don't mind it so much when he watches. Hell, that is what I pay him for.
 
I feel it is important to incorparate themes into one's humor, hence the repeated throws to "rubbing" and "genitals." I also bring up masturbation an awful lot. I'll change the themes if you like. On another note, I think you should avoid the words "poopie" and "pee pee." I feel they detract from your humor and make it seem far more juvenile than it really is.

I honeslty think there is more to Jesus than meets the eye. I think there is no need to fear Jesus while masturbating. He's there to help get you through and to remind you that while there may not be an orgy of hot naked lesbians right in front of you, it could happen.
I'd like to leave our discussion of Jesus for a moment and address a far more profound and life-altering topic. That subject is the letter 'q'. I have been doing some research and have arrived at the conclusion that the government is secretly tracking documents on the internet that contain the letter 'q'. This is very serious business and I believe it all goes back to Abraham Lincoln. I know that he both feared and worshiped the letter 'q' deeply and completely. I understand that he had repeated sex with a man that used to scream 'q' whenever he would reach an orgasm. Abe was never the same after that strange man failed to show up for a date they had set. He never saw the 'q' screamer again and has been searching for him ever since. So, he had all his employees secretly track anything related to the letter 'q' and the tradition was carried on past Presidnet Lincoln's death until this very day. I now know the 'q' screamer to be Mort McIntyre, a wealthy industrialist who raised and molested emus. He made his living collecting money from young entrepeuners who were willing to pay good money to watch a grown man freely molest an emu. It wasn't because he stopped loving Abe that he never showed up for that date, but rather because he couldn't on account of the hundreds of emus that he had molested who were exacting revenge on him at that very moment. He died a slow and painful death, but it wasn't the hundreds of angry emu beaks being rammed up his urethra that killed him, rather it was of a broken heart from not getting to see his one true love one last time.



Aaaaaaaaannnnnndddd.......end scene.
 
If they ever come up with a swashbuckling School, I think one of the courses should be Laughing, Then Jumping Off Something.

When you're riding in a time machine way far into the future, don't stick your elbow out the window, or it'll turn into a fossil.

It takes a big man to cry, but it takes a bigger man to laugh at that man.

At first I thought, if I were Superman, a perfect secret identity would be "Clark Kent, Dentist," because you could save money on tooth X-rays. But then I thought, if a patient said, "How's my back tooth?" and you just looked at it with your X-ray vision and said, "Oh it's okay," then the patient would probably say, "Aren't you going to take an X-ray, stupid?" and you'd say, "Aw fuck you, get outta here," and then he probably wouldn't even pay his bill.

One thing kids like is to be tricked. For instance, I was going to take my little nephew to Disneyland, but instead I drove him to an old burned-out warehouse. "Oh, no," I said. "Disneyland burned down." He cried and cried, but I think that deep down, he thought it was a pretty good joke. I started to drive over to the real Disneyland, but it was getting pretty late.

A good way to threaten somebody is to light a stick of dynamite. Then you call the guy and hold the burning fuse up to the phone. "Hear that?" you say. "That's dynamite, baby."

Why do people in ship mutinies always ask for "better treatment"? I'd ask for a pinball machine, because with all that rocking back and forth you'd probably be able to get a lot of free games.

I'd like to be buried Indian-style, where they put you up on a high rack, above the ground. That way, you could get hit by meteorites and not even feel it.

If I lived back in the wild west days, instead of carrying a six-gun in my holster, I'd carry a soldering iron. That way, if some smart-aleck cowboy said something like "Hey, look. He's carrying a soldering iron!" and started laughing, and everybody else started laughing, I could just say, "That's right, it's a soldering iron. The soldering iron of justice." Then everybody would get real quiet and ashamed, because they had made fun of the soldering iron of justice, and I could probably hit them up for a free drink.

I bet when the neanderthal kids would make a snowman, someone would always end up saying, "Don't forget the thick, heavy brows." Then they would all get embarrassed because they remembered they had the big hunky brows too, and they'd get mad and eat the snowman.

Fear can sometimes be a useful emotion. For instance, let's say you're an astronaught on the moon and you fear that your partner has been turned into Dracula. The next time he goes out for the moon pieces, wham!, you just slam the door behind him and blast off. He might call you on the radio and say he's not Dracula, but you just say, "Think again, bat man."

Too bad you can't buy a voodoo globe so that you could make the earth spin real fast and freak everybody out.

The people in the village were real poor, so none of the children had any toys. But this one little boy had gotten an old enema bag and filled it with rocks, and he would go around and whap the other children across the face with it. Man, I think my heart almost broke. Later the boy came up and offered to give me the toy. This was too much! I reached out my hand, but then he ran away. I chased him down and took the enema bag. He cried a little, but that's the way of these people.

I wish I had a Kryptonite cross, because then you could keep both Dracula AND Superman away.

I don't think I'm alone when I say I'd like to see more and more planets fall under the ruthless domination of our solar system.

Dad always thought laughter was the best medicine, which I guess is why several of us died of tuberculosis.
 
Maybe in order to understand mankind, we have to look at the word itself: "Mankind". Basically, it's made up of two separate words - "mank" and "ind". What do these words mean ? It's a mystery, and that's why so is mankind.

I hope if dogs ever take over the world, and they chose a king, they don't just go by size, because I bet there are some Chihuahuas with some good ideas.

I guess we were all guilty, in a way. We all shot him, we all skinned him, and we all got a complimentary bumper sticker that said, "I helped skin Bob."

I bet the main reason the police keep people away from a plane crash is they don't want anybody walking in and lying down in the crash stuff, then, when somebody comes up, act like they just woke up and go, "What was THAT?!"

The face of a child can say it all, especially the mouth part of the face.

Ambition is like a frog sitting on a Venus Flytrap. The flytrap can bite and bite, but it won't bother the frog because it only has little tiny plant teeth. But some other stuff could happen and it could be like ambition.

I'd rather be rich than stupid.

If you were a poor Indian with no weapons, and a bunch of conquistadors came up to you and asked where the gold was, I don't think it would be a good idea to say, "I swallowed it. So sue me."

If you define cowardice as running away at the first sign of danger, screaming and tripping and begging for mercy, then yes, Mr. Brave man, I guess I'm a coward.

I bet one legend that keeps recurring throughout history, in every culture, is the story of Popeye.

When you go in for a job interview, I think a good thing to ask is if they ever press charges.

To me, boxing is like a ballet, except there's no music, no choreography, and the dancers hit each other.

What is it that makes a complete stranger dive into an icy river to save a solid gold baby? Maybe we'll never know.

We tend to scoff at the beliefs of the ancients. But we can't scoff at them personally, to their faces, and this is what annoys me.
 
Probably the earliest flyswatters were nothing more than some sort of striking surface attached to the end of a long stick.

I think someone should have had the decency to tell me the luncheon was free. To make someone run out with potato salad in his hand, pretending he's throwing up, is not what I call hospitality.

To me, clowns aren't funny. In fact, they're kind of scary. I've wondered where this started and I think it goes back to the time I went to the circus, and a clown killed my dad.

As I bit into the nectarine, it had a crisp juiciness about it that was very pleasurable - until I realized it wasn't a nectarine at all, but A HUMAN HEAD!!

Most people don't realize that large pieces of coral, which have been painted brown and attached to the skull by common wood screws, can make a child look like a deer.

If trees could scream, would we be so cavalier about cutting them down? We might, if they screamed all the time, for no good reason.

Better not take a dog on the space shuttle, because if he sticks his head out when you're coming home his face might burn up.

You know what would make a good story? Something about a clown who make people happy, but inside he's real sad. Also, he has severe diarrhea.

Sometimes when I feel like killing someone, I do a little trick to calm myself down. I'll go over to the persons house and ring the doorbell. When the person comes to the door, I'm gone, but you know what I've left on the porch? A jack-o-lantern with a knife stuck in the side of it's head with a note that says "You." After that I usually feel a lot better, and no harm done.

If you're a horse, and someone gets on you, and falls off, and then gets right back on you, I think you should buck him off right away.

If you ever teach a yodeling class, probably the hardest thing is to keep the students from just trying to yodel right off. You see, we build to that.

If you ever fall off the Sears Tower, just go real limp, because maybe you'll look like a dummy and people will try to catch you because, hey, free dummy.

I'd like to see a nude opera, because when they hit those high notes, I bet you can really see it in those genitals.
 
Is he the guy who got his hand stuck in Rosie O'Donnel's blouse cause I felt pretty bad for that guy?
 
This isn't as offensive as I feared. Wondering if Jesus masturbates by humping the holes in his hands might be though. So we'd better not say that.
 
Nathan said:
I've decided Jack Handy was very very funny. Which comedian did that character?
Click to expand...

it wasn't a character - they would just scroll text over a scene with birds flying over the ocean or waves crashing on a beach. something like that.
and I'm pretty sure that Jack Handy is the real guy.
my friend says that he has seen him on stuff before, and that I have too - but I don't recall in what.
might have to imdb it later.
 
Okay. I think the similarilty between the words "anecdote" and "antidote" is a very serious problem. For instance, say someone asks you kindly to tell them a pleasant anecdote but you totally hear "antidote," then you're probably going to pour something down their throat that they hadn't planned on having in there in the first place and that could lead to a serious misunderstanding. Moreoever, say someone gets poisoned and asks you for an antidote but you hear "anecdote," then you're totally going to start telling them a long, involved story which is really not going to help the situation.
 
The Nature Boy said:
I think of the band Jesus Jones.
Click to expand...

Did you know the band Jesus Jones changed their name from Jesus Smith because they thought it was too ordinary?

Another useless fact from Project. Treasure it always.
 
I pick my nose a lot at work.
then I end up wondering if any stray fun was left over on my face.
so I always try to read people's reactions when they talk to me.
I look for a change in the sheer terror that they usually display to something that has a bit of amusement in there.
their own sick amusement at me having boogers on my face.
sick bastards.
 
I like to fiddle with my penis pretty much any time I can get my hands down there. Normally I play with myself when no one is watching but sometimes I forget and people start to laugh at me, which I don't much care for. I still like an audience though it's just the laughing isn't very friendly I don't find. Also, I enjoy lying down with a fan at my feet blowing towards my face so that I can fart into the wind. This results in my farts coming back to meet my face which I greatly like. I kind of adopt that look that dogs have when they put their heads out of the window of a moving car. It makes me feel as though my nose is firmly planted in someone's ass which is truly a wonderful feeling. It's the kind of feeling that Jesus must feel when his father, God, hugs him. It's really a mix between happiness, ecstacy, indifference and of course sleepiness. I like turtles cause they don't move fast so I can pretty much touch them wherever I want and there really isn't much they can do about it. So there.
 
That is one damn fine point you made about turtles.
I like to smell my own farts, but I'm not to keen on other people's farts.
When I'm not at work, I do a lot of scratching of my balls.
It isn't that when I'm at work that I feel I shouldn't be doing it - it is just that in nicer clothes and with a belt on, it is harder to get my hand down there to really get my dig on.

also I get hungry. I used to not get hungry, but now as I seem to be the incredible shrinking man, I'm hungry.

put that in your pipe and smoke it.
 
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