InASense, Lost… Herpes On The Rise Due To Game?

I don’t want to be naive , but apparently cold sores – not better known as lip herpes, and definitely not known as liperpes (though it should be) – is spreading like wild fire amongst college students.  The culprit blamed for the spreading: beer pong.

From Asylum:

But beer pong could be nearly as dangerous as unprotected sex in terms of spreading diseases, according to a recent article in the University of Massachusetts’ student newspaper — which links the rise of herpes on campus to the popularity of beer pong. Because the game involves multiple people drinking from the same cups, the herpes virus — which can be transmitted via saliva — can be spread to everyone who is playing through the course of a game. The virus is up 230 percent since 2007 in people between ages 17 and 21.

And here I foolishly thought it was because college students are generally sluts (and I’m talking about both genders when I say that).

This got me thinking about what other STD’s might not be ST’d (sexually transmitted), and in fact may be BP’d (beer ponged).

  • Gonorrhea – From clapping near someone else who is clapping.  This is why it’s also known as the Clap.
  • Chlamydia–  From getting sodas out dispensers outside of Walmart stores.
  • Genital Warts – From playing with toads before using the restroom.  The same applies to Crabs.  Not to be confused with Gentile Warts, common amongst Christians.
  • Syphilis – Was created by Alexander Fleming in order to sell his new discovery, penicillin.  Transmitted via playing catch with Frisbees, and sometimes Nerf Boomerangs.

A pubic public service announcement from the 80’s:

InASense, Lost… No To Boobs, But Blood’s Okay?

This is a post I’ve been meaning to write for awhile.  When I recently went to the theater to see the wretched Friday the 13th remake/revision/re-fried beans, there was a father behind me with his 8-10 year old son.  I had a major ass-id flashback when I overheard him telling his son, “Cover your eyes!” whenever nudity was shown.

“Cover your eyes!”  The adage of the forbidden.  The phrase my parents often demanded of me when renting schlocky horror and fantasy films (they were my dad’s favorite VHS tapes to rent) whenever there was any hint of an upcoming boobs, butts, or both.

In fact, at the showing of F13, there were a fair amount of kids.  My favorite was a dumpy looking mother with her dumpy looking tween son that was wearing a Girls Gone Wild t-shirt.

What bothers me is that these parents don’t even stop to consider what these films do to their kids’ brains (if they have any, for that matter – the big dopes or their offspring).

At least the father behind me was sorta censoring his spawn’s input.

As an example of the warping that can occur, let me bring up a few things that warped my mind in the original series:

1) It made me scared of NYC.  I haven’t been sure of the origin of my fear.  This intro makes it look not-so-inviting:

2) It made me scared of loud random noises.  In the middle of the night one time, I kept hearing this scary uggh type noise.  I thought the devil was speaking through my TV or something.  Ended up being a spider in the fire alarm, but whew!  I flipped the fuck out.  Now listen to the crap noise they call “music” that plays through the opening of Jason Goes to Hell: The Final (hah!) Friday:

3) It made me scared of getting naked, et. al.  People die, folks.  People die!  That’s why I shower in my bathing suit.  Just in case.

Anonymous Fans Of Anonymous Unsafe Sex

This topic has been bothering me for a couple days.  I’m not supposed to know some fact, according to my friend’s girlfriend, and since he promised her he wouldn’t say, he didn’t say.  But he gave clues.

And remember – I may be addicted to guessing games.

The sitch is this: my friend found out some girl we know has never used protection.  He was stunned by this fact and said his opinion of her dropped (you can take the boy out of Catholicism but you can’t take the brainwashing out of the boy).

I don’t condone unsafe sex, but I don’t judge.  I simply assume everyone’s filthy, and I worry about myself.  Actually, I do hold it against girls that sleep with known douchebag-whore men, but that’s neither here nor there.

I had my guesses and made my chart accordingly, but too be honest… I never held any of my options in saintly regard in the first place, or they’re since married (in that order).  I think it would take someone close to me that had this bad habit to shock me, and luckily not many ladies I know have daughters (if the mystery woman had a son, this could have meant serious trouble).

whoknows

(And by "partied" I mean just that.)

In contrast to my friend’s opinion: I’m offended by the tattoo situation.  She wants to get a tattoo of her daughter’s name, and it’s going to take two $600 sessions, which my friend swears will probably take her to three of four.  She has financial woes of some sort – yet she’s taking a loan for tattoos. 

Hello impending Idiocracy.

Lindsay’n Ya Later, Samantha!

She's the DJ, I'm the Twister

She's the DJ, I'm the Rapper (named Twista)

Oops!

Natural disaster and “Mean Girls” actress, Lindsay Lohan, is about to one up the title of the film that made her a star-on-the-verge-of-something-more.  You know… she’ll be the Meanest Girl.

Samantha Ronson, the DJ-on-the-vag-of-someone-more-famous, has expressed her desire to marry the love of her life, LiLo.

But as all the tabs and blogs have said all along (not verbatim) – you can take the penis out of the white trash, but you really can’t.

From IMDB (b/c I couldn’t find it on NotW):

A source tells British newspaper the News of the World, “Linds is on the brink because Sam won’t leave her side. Whenever she does, Lindsay’s on the phone telling her mates she’s decided she’s not a lesbian.

“Of course she still has feelings for Sam – but she also feels like she has to escape.”

Currently going down in Lindsay’s leggings (from her 6126 clothing line, duh!):

Vagina: L, I’m lonely.
Lindsay: Whatever do you mean?  Sammy’s always been good to you.
Vagina: But L, she’s not enough.
Lindsay: Sammy knows you inside and out.  She understands you and takes care of you.
Vagina: I know…
Lindsay: What’s the problem then?
Anus: Okay, you got me!  It’s not the Vagina, all right!  You know Sammy’s disgusted by me.  But the boys… the boys are really into me…
Lindsay: You’re right.  You win.  You should have told me it was you all along.
Anus: Amen to that, sister!  Emphasis on men.
Lindsay: Mm-hmm.

Finis.