Friday’s 8″ poll

Friday Wouldya?

Boston, MA (Home of political corruption, rampant catholic priest pedophilia, and the Duck Boat Tours!) – Good Morning! If you haven’t heard yet, the state of Massachusetts is about to release every single prison inmate back into society, thanks to one under qualified drug analyst who tampered with a little bit of evidence. Whoops! Law enforcement officials say Annie Dookhan tested more than 60,000 drug samples involving 34,000 defendants in her nine years at the lab. How psyched would you be if you were one of those 34,000 guys? Just ring up your attorney and lol with each other about how that bitch worked on your case. Everybody wins, especially the attorney who is going to get paid twice, once when you went in, and once when you come out. In that sense, they’re kind of like a mortgage ‘professional’ who gets you a slightly lower rate, and then calls you six months later to get you a slightly lower rate, even though the new lower rate was available all along.

Now let’s cut to the chase: Wouldya with Annie Dookhan? Word on the street (at Boston.com) is that her marriage is in shambles, and she was trading personal emails with a prosecutor whose cases depended on the outcome of her lab results. Naughty! Per usual, I’ll go ahead and start us off and let you know how I voted, so….drumroll….I would. Yep, I know, shocker. But, she has access to all kinds of drugs, and you know she probably shaves that persian beaver. Do I like her wacky eye rolling around in her head while I’m drilling her, like she’s a human pinball machine? Not really, but sometimes you just have to mash your face into a pillow while you hammer away and imagine something pleasant. Please have respect for others as you cast your vote below whether or not you would nail Annie.

"Would you mind just closing them?"

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Oh No, Look Who’s Taking Her Shirt Off :(

Boston, MA – A lot of you have emailed or commented and asked “Martin, what would you consider perfect boobers?” This. This is what I would consider perfect boobers, and this is what it’s like to own them. You literally just take your shirt off anywhere and you are instantly the life of the party. “But Martin, what about smaller boobs, or flat chested women?” Sure, yeah, definitely, there’s a place for women like that, like on a far away island or on another planet. If we need a test group to send to the first habitat on the Moon, it should be mandatory that Flatties are in the test group to see if humans can survive there. And, not to cause widespread panic, but there’s actually a meteor the size of Texas heading towards Earth right now, and there’s a 1 in 672 chance that it will hit us. If all the flat chicks on Earth got together and formed some kind of gross flat chested pyramid, we might be able to sustain the collision. Granted, there will obviously be some loss of life, but nothing any of us would really miss.

"Ta-Da!"

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Boston, MA – After battening down the hatches in the eye of the storm for the past 12 hours, I was finally able to remove the 1″ of accumulated snow in my driveway and get back here so I could blog for you. Don’t mention it. Of course, the vampires that read from the teleprompters to deliver the weather have kind of neglected to tell you that it’s going to be 55 degrees tomorrow. Anyway, I’d be shocked if you even read this paragraph before focusing on the youknowwhat’s down below. After all, do you come to Wicked Improper for your weather, or do you come here to look at tightly bound awesome boobers? Here, let me answer that for you.

"Not camera shy"

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Let’s Face It, Channing Tatum Fever Is Spreading And You Can’t Outrun It

Boston, MA – Goodbye Brad Pitt. Goodbye Ryan Gosling. Goodbye Gaylor Tautner. Your careers as you know them are over. I used to waste my time projecting bitterness and jealousy towards these guys. Like, “Oh, word on the street in H-wood is that Brad has really bad acne.” Or, “I don’t know how Ryan Gosling gets a pass, his glass eye is constantly fixed on the horizon.” If you don’t believe me, please watch “The Ides of March” and try not to get motion sickness from watching his eye floating all over the fucking place. Once you see it, Ladies or Gayers, you’ll never look away, and his devilish little smirk will no longer make your panties or Beckham briefs sop like it once did.

Now, I know I’ve been beating this horse dead all week, but Channing Tatum is now “IT.” There is no denying it anymore. If you recall from our earlier blog, this guy not only has a ripped body, but it honestly looks like he has a Sea Otter living in his underpants. No more sleepless nights for me in early February waiting for Punxatawney Phil. From now on, if Channing Tatum’s dick comes out and sees its’ own shadow, you better keep your mittens and snow shovels at the ready. After seeing the picture below, any woman would be insane to get on her knees and prepare to service him, unless she wants to run the risk of being buried alive under a balls and cockalanche.

Quite frankly, I’m tired of listening to my wife tell me she rarely comes here because there are never any polls for women. So here we go, just for her, here’s a poll designed for our female readers. “But Martin, isn’t this a desperate attempt to have women forward the link around so your blog spreads like a Vagirus?” You bet your sweet ass it is.

"My Native American name translates to "Him With Angry Trouser Serpent"

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(Thanks to Boston Sean for continual IT expertise, insight, suggestions and ideas that have been spot on every time. Also, sorry to Boston Sean that this “Thank you” had to come directly beneath Channing Tatum’s helmet)

What’s Trending Now?

Boston, MA – These are trending now. And trending later. And trending forever. I went to see Frank Santos, Jr., the R rated hypnotist at Nick’s Comedy Stop, and after 30 minutes of waving a pocket watch in front of my face, he told me “You can’t be hypnotized. Your brain is like a steel curtain. I can’t put you under.” And yet, I feel like if I clear my mind and stare at these bouncing gravy bags, I’d be under in about 7 seconds. I’m not kidding, if I were you, I wouldn’t look at them for too long, especially if you’re at work because you don’t want your excuse for why you were caught wrangling one out at your desk to be “It’s not my fault, I was under the power of hypnosis.” I’ve tried that excuse at home before. Trust me, it’s a pretty tough sell if the hypnotized subject had enough sense to prep the whack room with napkins, lotion, ice cubes, Al Green, candles, online porn, and a halftime snack.

Let’s have a good Friday, everyone.

"Safe for work. Safe for everywhere."

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What Are We Waiting For, In Terms Of Seeing Casey Anthony’s Tits?

"Relax, it's just a roll, not Caylee's heart!"

Everywhere, USA – What is taking so long to see those tightly bound awesome boobers mounted on Casey Anthony’s chest? All of the other hot chicks that have been accused of murder have moved on with their lives. Amanda Knox already has a new boyfriend for christ’s sake. I’m not sure how that dude sleeps in the same room to be honest with you. “Uh, yeah, you know what? I think I’m gonna sleep in the car tonight. No! I totally trust you, it’s just that whole ‘the last person to have a sleepover with you ended up in a pool of their own blood’ thing.” So, while me and my dick (sorry, my dick and I) have trust issues with Amanda, we are ready to see Casey Anthony’s tits. I completely trust her because I’m not a 3 year old spoiled rotten brat that won’t shut the fuck up. I know how to mind my own p’s and q’s, I don’t throw tantrums, I don’t shit the bed, I don’t throw chicken finger pieces on the floor, I don’t keep talking about how I want a new dolly, and most important, I don’t fit into a 20 gallon trash bag or the trunk of a Pontiac Sunfire.

Sign our virtual petition to demand that Casey Anthony show her tits to the general public. It’s been 3 years of teasing, what with the sweaters, and those stylish button downs. Remember, real or fake, who cares, you don’t lick the insides.

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Friday’s 8″ Poll

"I should have brought my auger"

Scenario: It’s Halloween night, and you’re alone in a cemetery. You’ve got a lantern, a canteen of water, a shovel and some beef jerky for energy. You notice there’s a full moon and suddenly feel that you’re being watched by an owl. For some reason, people are afraid of owls even though there’s not a single shred of evidence showing owls are to be feared. They basically sit there motionless on a branch like they’re waiting to be punched. In fact, the only owl you have may have had any experience with at all is Woodsy the Owl, who goes down in history as one of the cuntiest tattletales of all time. Remember “Give a hoot, don’t pollute!”? Those commercials haven’t been on in ages, but I still smile and think about that neckless feathered rat whenever I dump leftover fiberglass insulation at the bird sanctuary in Newton. Let’s get you back to the cemetery. You really have to use your imagination here, and try to forget about laws, and “right and wrong”, and the ghastly sights and smells of actually digging up and opening a casket. Okay, you’re ready. You have one hour. Which dead famous chick would you dig up and make love to? DIG! (Update: A few readers have emailed in and asked if they need to wear protection. Nope! This is your hour, feel free to bury one in there. Pun intended. But, please have some decency and put everything back where you found it when you’re finished.)

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Friday’s 8″ Poll

You’re on a deserted island (or staying in a hotel room on business.) There’s a knock at your door. The person knocking offers you a free blowjob (but you could tip if you like.) From the 6 pictured above, who would you choose to slobble your ganoozle? Please note, your honesty is important to the integrity of the results.

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