You hoped we were dead! Gone with the wind! Away on a magic carpet ride to oblivion! But you were wrong!
We were just plotting and biding our time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to release this auditory orgasm in your unworthy ears!
Listen to the first episode of the DNFTB podcast as Kevin the Penguin Master, resident advice columnist Auntie Liv and all-around perv Aggrey reminisce about the struggle of dial-up porn consumption and reveal exactly where to find our various porn stashes. And to top it off, we also solve the age old mystery of the Share button on streaming sites.
Abandon decency all ye who enter here!
Do not look at me as a prophet of doom for the words I’m about to say. Rather, I reveal the deep truths that we refuse to admit even to ourselves.
SCIENCE HAS FAILED US! How you might ask? Simple. We don’t have robot sex dolls.
I would be more than justified in using this space to bemoan the pathetic state of our sciences and our scholars and our technology, but I’m just not that kind of guy. I’m the kind of guy who thinks beyond his present circumstances and tries to solve the problems that he’s presented with. And there’s only one obvious solution to this dire situation: Necrophilia.
It really is the perfect blend of human contact without the inconvenience of human interaction. Our techniques of human preservation mean that bodies can be maintained in pristine condition after death for a long time. And all it’ll take to get corpses flexible again after rigor mortis is a few strategically placed metal joints. And if you think that is impossible, think of the artificial joints surgeries all over the world that replace knees, elbows and hips. It’s only a small step to doing the same to the dead. It’ll actually be cheaper since you don’t have to worry about anaesthesia and quality of (after)life.
And for all those with petty moral concerns, GET OVER YOURSELVES! You want to deny hundreds of people the joys of having a human sex partner with no demands of their own! What kind of monsters are you!? Yes the partners might be dead, but that’s better than the nothing that those people currently have. It’s not like these corpses will be diverted from some critical function. In fact, we’d actually be using them to bring even more happiness to the world. And I’m sure that if it’s one thing our loved ones would like to know they brought to this world even after their passing, it’s happiness.
Don’t bury or cremate your loved ones. Instead, donate their body to that sexless friend or frustrated who you know could use some good lovin’. In the immortal words of Michael Jackson, you’ll be doing your part to heal the world, to make it a better place for you and for me and the entire human race.
A horrible accident saw me lose the most important limb I have, my penis. I will not go into any details but suffice to say, one should never be cheap and use knock-off lube that can pass convincingly as axle grease with one’s fleshlight, especially if it’s for a vigorous session.
But thanks to the miracle of science, all was not lost. Just to be clear, all the penis was lost, everything from the pelvis onwards. All of that gone! I was left looking like a mannequin with a pair of saggy balls for comedic effect.
Medical science has come a long way from the days of leeches and spells (MODERN medical science). I did not have to go through life with the humiliation of having to be the only chap to argue for leaving the toilet seat down. Because really!? Who can’t be bothered to take the single second to actually look to check the position of the toilet seat before getting down to business.
A radical new procedure, the penis transplant, meant that I was able to get a new lease on life. I could consider myself a man in all the relevant ways. I would only have to comprise in a few minor ways; length, girth and skin tone. Small sacrifices to still be able to have a penis.
Surprisingly, the concept of having a penis that was from a corpse was surprisingly easy to get used to. It’s amazing what the horror of having to live with no dick will do to your sense of perspective. Even the skin tone thing was pretty easy to get used to. Flashing it became an amusing party trick as no one could actually believe they saw a lightest-skinned cock on this darkest of dudes. It was hilarious. And it was more than once where I was propositioned by women looking to experience the cock to believe the story *wink wink, nudge nudge* i.e. white man meat from a black mandingo.
But these little things did not take the edge off the hardships of having a second hand sausage.
Masturbation was never the same. It never felt like I was pleasuring myself, more like a phantom handjob, and an amateurish one at that. The technique I had perfected since my teens was off thanks to the new thickness and length of the shaft and its different nerve endings. I always had to be conscious of the strokes or I would end up almost ripping my head of as I overshot. The natural grip I had was suddenly not right and it felt like I was jerking a disembodied penis that mysteriously made me orgasm.
Sex with the girlfriend was always awkward. After the initial new dick novelty wore off, she became uncomfortable with having the Frankenstein weiner all up in her. Blowjobs are at an end when you have to convince her that no really, it’s totally fine to have what was once a dead man’s schlong in your mouth, it’s not at all necrophilic. Sex became a dutiful chore that even a Puritan would deem it frigid. Of course the lack of release has made me more of an ornery bastard, which weird enough, is suddenly gaining me more female attention. Which just amps my need for release, making me more annoyed. It’s a vicious cycle.
Even months after the operation, a simple morning wee can end in disaster, with pee all over the floor, due to misjudgement of positioning and trajectory of the morning wood due to the foreign stiffy that is now attached to my body.
Deep down, I don’t think I will ever get accustomed to having a new tool to work with. But still, better used dick than no dick at all. A philosophy most women, gay dudes and, now one straight guy, can live by.
As a red-blooded, heterosexual, misogynist male, I have been busy scoping out chicks’ asses, hips, waists and breasts. It’s not because I want to mind you. It’s because society expects me to. I’m just a victim of my conditioning. I can’t help it.
With the disclaimer out of the way, I have been noticing a lot of parasite-bearing ladies happily flaunting their distended bellies everywhere. It’s seems that spawning time is almost upon us and a new crop of leeches will be loosed on humanity i.e. lots of heavily pregnant women be waddling around.
Now, while I lament their misplaced joy at bringing new life in the world, I have been noticing that my troublesome 2nd brain twitches when the women are in sight going, “You know you wouldn’t mind gutting that fish.” And I go “Dammit penis! I don’t need a new perversion to add to my CV!”
But it has a point. I’m more than a bit curious at stabbing the cat of a heavily pregnant, about-to-break-their-water kind of woman. First of all, the mechanics alone would be worth it. Missionary suddenly becomes a maneuver on par with handling nuclear material. If I jackhammer with abandon like a horny rabbit, is there a real chance of inducing a premature birth?
And if the baby can hear all the soothing sounds of classical music while in the womb, will it also be privy to the sounds of it’s mother bumping uglies? Science, I NEED TO KNOW!
Can I punch a baby if I fist the mother hard enough? Will I feel the soft head cave-in as I tickle the lady’s g-spot? How far would my arm have to travel to accomplish that? And would it heighten her pleasure? (See, ladies! With me, it’s all about you! 😉 )
How about 69’ing? Can the body even contort and stretch over that huge hump to get to the gash? Or is that simply a pipe dream at that stage of gestation?
I don’t know if it’s just sexual curiosity that’s the cause of my new found re-evaluation of the baby ejectors, or my maturity as a person (hehehe) that has allowed me to take notice of their attractiveness. But this is a venture that has to be explored at some point in time. Something else to add to the bucket list, along with setting fire to dog’s balls and wearing a suit of bees.
Dear Auntie Liv,
I have been dating this guy for the last 7 months, and I have a serious problem with his weed habits. He doesn’t want to go anywhere, he just sits in the house smoking up and watching videos on YouTube. Every time I want to go somewhere, he’s always refusing and just wants to stay indoors an eat my food. I’m fucking frustrated. What can I do to make him stop?
Disappointed in Donholm.
That was not a typo. You’re a disappointing intolerant good for nothing, who deserves nothing more than heartbreak and chlamydia. But you know what the best thing is about your life is that you won’t get either. You have what every man who’s watched one romantic comedy in his life thinks is the perfect example of a good spouse. Which is EVERY SINGLE MAN OUT THERE.
According to this lacklustre lover of yours, he is doing everything that you sad Tumblr owning girls want. He doesn’t stray, you can keep tabs on him 24/7 and he actually will eat your cooking, which is only nice because someone told you how to use coconut cream in everything. For him the fact that its just not Bites and tepid tap water is enough for him to stay with your nagging ass, and probably the other reason he’s still there is because the weed has mellowed him out to the point that everything you have said since “are you hungry?” is white noise.
Would you really like him to stop smoking up? Are you sure? Now he’ll have an opinion on your stories, your makeup, how your eyebrows aren’t done, how you really need to use stronger deo, now that the thick cloud of smoke has been lifted and he can see (and smell) you in your not-so-impressive glory. Then he’ll start looking at Mingle pictures and actually be awake and active when the call for “I got free tickets!” comes through. And then, what next? You have no idea where he is and what he’s doing! Now what? You dumb bitch.
Eventually if he changes you WILL write to me again, and start telling me how he’s moody, angry, irritable and not the man you knew… And my only advice is to give you a dealers number. And besides, it’s not like you didn’t know that he likes weed. You did, and you should learn from your mistakes. Next time go look for a man who lives in Runda. Because if you’re stupid enough to think you can change a man into something he does want to be, then you’re probably the type of girl who thinks that large distances between the house and the main road equate to class. Assess yourself.
3 years ago, I got my ex-girlfriend pregnant and we decided to keep the baby. But you know how these things go, eventually I realised this was just a trap and that she had ulterior motives, and we eventually broke up. I met this awesome girl and I really do love her and I want to be with her, but she has her reservations about my kid. I love her deeply and think she’s the right one for me. But I also have to provide for my ex and my son. Can you help me?
Confused in Coast.
I have no fucking idea where to start. Sir, you obviously have never watched any black movie, so I’m going to explain to you what happens. Dumb boy(thats you) meets dumb girl. Dumb boy taps dumb girl. Dumb girl gets pregnant because of any variety of reasons; maybe because she liked your flashy ways at Ratchet City (Crooked Q’s) and big house and doesn’t realise that the only reason you choose to be flashy in such an (ahem) establishment is that your parents are very well aware that their son is a loser and will give him an adequate amount of money not out of love, but because they can’t bear to have their family name embarrassed any further. But well, poor mom and dad because that’s exactly what you did, didn’t you? You got a girl from the wrong tribe (yes, that’s what your dad said) with one too many tattoos and/or piercings and a penchant for self expression through low cut tops(????)
Well, you may have learnt your lesson, because your new love interest seems to be extremely intelligent, seeing that she can smell the disaster off you. yes, son, you are going to lead her down a path of destruction. Just like you and your tequila rose shots did to your last ratchet mistake, so please, just leave it at that ONE ratchet mistake. If you really love this girl, you leave her alone. Delete her number. Avoid her when you see her in the street. For even added safety, MOVE. If you love this flower of yours, you’ll keep her far away from your poison, be it the lack of time you’ll have for her, the bitterness shell harbour when you’ll drop everything at a moments notice to run to your son (but she can’t complain because she doesn’t want to be that person keeping him away from his family) Eventually your whole life will begin to play out like a Tyler Perry movie, and we all know how bad those things are. Most of the time the plot ends with someone dying, getting really unwell to the point of paralysis and/or incarceration. Either that or, you’re going to pit those two women against one another, and ratchet begets ratchet, so you’re going to end up turning a good girl into a ratchet. And because you won’t take responsibility for your actions, you’ll end up being an angry Kenyan man who thinks all women are stupid, end up posting stupid misogynistic bullshit like this and end up with a thousand followers because you just understand women don’t you, you piece of shit. Stay in the house, take care of your kids, keep the fuck away from Qs.
Son, don’t do it. The baby mama always wins.
What advice would you give a gay guy who wants to get back with his man?
Sleepless in Sankara.
I…. This is not my area of expertise. I don’t know anything about the gay community apart from what I learnt about them on… Community, but I think your query explains the sudden rise of women hating blogs and male selfies on Instagram.
Actually, just watch Community. Whatever Troy does, mimic it.
I like wearing women’s underwear. What are the good stores that have lingerie in man’s sizes?
Shy in South C.
I can give you my exes number he can tell you where he buys her things. Otherwise I’m also looking for heels that will fit my man feet so when you’re going you call me :*
I know this is kind of stupid but how exactly do you show up an ex? His new girl isn’t shit, he keeps giving me attitude, I just need him to see that I am better!
Livid in LA.
Evidently you didn’t want that cliche, “you don’t need another mans validation to feel your worth, you just need self validation!” bullshit or else you wouldn’t have written to me. Well. You made the right choice. I understand you completely.
So. *clears throat* there are a series of steps you can take.
1. Get a friend who works for Heineken. They get freebies. If they don’t, they’re lying. Get them. People will think you’re cool.
2. Go to a friends house, preferably when the folks aren’t home. Take photos of their liquor. Post them on Instagram and front like they’re a gift from “your clients”. Keep a constant archive of these photos and post them randomly in the middle of the month, especially after everyone on your feed is posting water with ice cubes and calling it lunch.
3. Curve someone online. If someone responds to your tweet with either this…
You might have won the Internet.
4. Replace him with his opposite. If he’s a darkie get the lightest, fair haired, brown eyed light skin motherfucker you can find. If he’s light skin, curve him with Uncle Ruckus. (You get bonus points for Muthunguz)
Start a blog, undergo serious flak from haters at the start enough to make you want to quit, persevere through memes and negative reviews and then 3 years later get a job opportunity and insert the phrase “paid blogger” into every sentence you can.
I have been having a thing with this guy for 5 months. It started off as FWB but I may have started catching feelings. It has been going on long enough for there not to be a future. We haven’t discussed anything but I have a good feeling about this. What should I do?
Ditzy Daisy from Loresho
No boo boo, no. There you have lied to yourself. You cannot still claim to be Friends With Benefits if it has lasted more than 3 months. An FWB is a person who you explore your sexual deviancy with, and discover whether you’re into autoerotic asphyxiation, violent porn and all that stuff that Aggrey talks about. Once this person has seen you with a ball gag in your mouth there is no way you are being promoted upwards to Mrs S&M, and that should be fine with you, because, like you said, it was just meant to be a thing. The 3 month span is ample time for you to fuck out all the misery that whoever it is that hurt you put you through. And the fact that you think that being banged you 3 times a week and a toothbrush in your bathroom is evidence of a future with this man, means that there are a couple hundred million issues you need to address with your ex. Tafadhali, mpigie tu.
I’m in a long distance relat….
That one I won’t touch even with a 1000 ft pole. You are by yourself. LITERALLY.
I’ve been dating my boyfriend for the last year and a half, and it’s been pretty smooth sailing all the way. I just have this huge problem with this female friend of his. She’s always calling him for parties and stuff like that, and every time they go out they get so drunk and have lots of fun. I know he used to like her so their friendship makes me so angry, but he says that she’s just his friend. Is he lying? Jealous Janice from Westy
You ever hear men saying that “women are their own worst enemies”? They are talking about you. You need to relax. You’re his girlfriend. You’re the one who his mum has met and cooked cookies with. You can’t also be the one his dad will accidentally hit on when he’s chomokad the house and gone to drink with young drunk university students. And is the fact that she’s single bothering you? It is isn’t it. I can console you by saying that she’s probably a heavy drinker and has a lot of issues (testify!) and is probably seeking the approval of some asshole that doesn’t even funga his eyes when they kiss, so don’t worry. And even you as a girl you know once you friendzone a nigga not even Moses’ staff can part those legs. She has friend zoned him. You might as well be nice to her, because the minute she disapproves of your cookie baking ass she has the power to destroy you as he laments drunkenly over your stupid jealous behaviours. You’re just temporary, but the bar will always be there. So get over it.
Should I surprise my gf with a tattoo of her name on her birthday?
Romantic Romeo from Ruiru
Yes. Go ahead and show her this amazing display of weakness and watch her run into the arms of your big dicked best friend. HOW DOES SUCH A STUPID PERSON EVEN KNOW OF ME OMG JESUS STRIKE DOWN THIS CHILD
I have had a crush on this guy for the longest time and I have no idea how to let him know. I obsess daily and I constantly wonder what I’m going to say or do around him and end up embarrassing myself. Please help,
Lovestruck Lucy from Lavi
I swear babe, here I can’t help. We’re in the same boat. But if you get the answer to this, halla at your girl.
Hey guys 🙂
So, you guys know Adam Kiboi right? Anarchist, blogger at DNFTB and he operates his own blog which you can check out here (TTYL), blah blah… so theres a post he recently wrote, and by recently I mean at 6 AM. I was aware that certain parts would involve my name but I didn’t know it would be THIS bad. So this is my response.
Now, don’t get me wrong, this is not a denial of any sort, its more of a clarification. By the time you finish reading this I will have ended up looking like a serious bitch, and him just a victim of my meanness, but this is nothing like that. This back and forth has gone on since 2009, since we first met and he lied to me that he was South African and I was the only woman for him. 5 years later, he is not South African (so unfair Adam you know I love South African men) and these conversations now take place. All of the following is true.
MaddAddam (pick up a book some time…Jeez…haven’t you heard of Margaret Atwood???): What’s a mbroggas?
Big Breasted Blogger (me, and I love this nickname, against my better judgement): Bloggers
MA: hahaha ok, actually up working on a post inspired by yours. But had put up three earlier though
BBB: Yeah I read them. Jesus Christ, man, visit a brothel
MA: Ouch you know it’s not that bad, I’m just feeling so chill right now. I just need casual sex to confuse me ONCE AGAIN? Naah.
BBB: Hahahahahahahahahha(it went on for a reaaaally long while). That is so sad, i’ll just leave it alone.
*thinks a while*
Loser. LOL (just in case he got mad)
MA: Shaaaame. Why’re you awake?
BBB: *was thinking of insults till the text checked in. The bile was already bubbling, hadn’t slept in 21 hours, and I just needed to bully someone, since there’s really no-one to bother on-line at night any more. I decide to let it out)
Actually, no. You’re my friend so I’ll say it. Also, coz I’m a prick 😀 (own it!)You’ve gone soft. Like, you know apples that are soft are really disgusting but still edible? Yeah, not like that. Like, black patch on a banana soft. Did you seriously go on line and bitch about being cheated on like some prepubescent girl on Tumblr? What’s next? Will you start quoting Marilyn Munroe? Get over yourself.You are a mess hehe ( remember, it always softens an insult)
MA: Actually no that post was more of a whine for pity sex (revealing trade secrets, sorry -but honestly it wasnt going to work) and a defensive tactic if I ever want to get laid in Nai lol and I thought Tumblr was just for tacky pictures.
BBB: Its for little girls like you. No one wants to fuck little girls. Not even Catholic priests.
MA: Oh. Meh. (He did this on purpose. That was such a chemical burn and we ALL KNOW THIS but that “Oh. Meh.” just killed all my psyche for insulting him further. Guy didnt even flinch or call me a bitch. Oh Meh, like I told him paper towels are actually different from serviettes. NKT)
The rest of the conversation is actually pretty awesome, but we talked about a lot of our readers and since we are all trying to get laid I’ll just leave the rest out.