Health » Wicked Improper

Happy National Clitoris Week!

"Move the Daffodil, Toots"

Boston, MA – You read that right, it’s National Clitoris Week! Yay! The real question on everyone’s mind is, what is Clitoraid? Like you, I thought it might be a lemon-lime thirst quencher for the pussy. But no, thanks to my genuine inquisitive nature, and working at a job that doesn’t really matter, I had unlimited time to do research on all things Clitoraid and was surprised to find it has nothing to do with replenishing the Vag’s electrolytes. This is taken directly from the Clitoraid.org web site:

Clitoraid Story

“My elder sister woke up very early that day and started to boil water on the wooden fire. When the women arrived, my sister tricked me and asked me to go and give a bar of soap to the old woman in the bathroom; so silly of me. I ran there to do it fast and once in front of the toilets, two of the women grabbed me by the arms and put me down on the floor. One was seated on my belly holding my two wrists on my chest, the two others were holding my feet and the old one was in the middle and they cut off my clitoris without anesthesia. It took me two months to heal…” Banemanie was thirteen when she was genitally mutilated. She is now 55 and she was one of the first to call Dr. Lankouade, a local surgeon who practices FGM repair, to be operated on. Unfortunately, Clitoraid had to send Bane to have a second surgery in Paris under the care of Dr. Foldes because the surgery conducted by Dr. Lankouade was not successful. Once Clitoraid’s hospital opens, African Doctors will be offered free surgical training to insure successful results on their patients too. After her surgery with Dr. Foldes, Bane is now able to feel new sensations in her rebuilt clitoris. It’s with great hope and enthusiasm that the women of Africa support the Clitoraid Project!

First things first, I do not like Banemanie’s older sister. I thought she was starting the day off by putting a soup on. When you have a pot of soup boiling and ask me to give a bar of soap to the old lady that’s taking a shit in our bathroom for some reason, consider it done. I love soup. But then I get in there and some other bitch is waiting with the old lady and they cut my clit off without novacaine, and then I find out that whole soup thing was staged? Well, I think it’s time for me to find a new favorite big sister.

Second, it is also with even greater hope and even greater enthusiasm that the men of Wicked Improper support the Clitoraid Project! Yeah, probably not with monetary assistance, but our hearts and dicks are in the right place. Definitely put those clits back on there. As if the women of Africa don’t have enough to worry about with leopards, lack of water, balancing baskets of fruit on their heads all day, cheetahs, extremely high pollen counts, etFc., now there’s an angry gang of evil bitches roaming the villages pretending to make soup and slicing off clits? Come on! If this blog can raise awareness and prevent just one of our African sisters from getting her bean hacked off, then we’ve done our job. We are Wicked Improper. We are BostonStrong. We are AfricaStrong. We are ClitStrong.

#ClitStrong

Can Simply Giving a Blowjob Help A Woman Cope With PMS?

"You're hired"

Boston, MA – As a male blessed with natural shaft girth roughly the circumference of a coke can, I can tell you this: Like you, I do not like going long stretches (i.e. anything beyond 6 hours) without releasing Brogurt. And, you know me, I normally don’t go into details, but I once experimented with trying to save up a big boy by going 2 months without release. Two months! You would think that if you had the patience to wait that long, Mother Nature would reward you by having one giant sperm the size of a brook trout get launched, but it turns out it doesn’t work like that. While I admit the human body is an absolute miracle of wonder, it is sometimes not without its’ disappointing limits.

Well, speaking of the human body, last night, before the most preposterous show currently and possibly ever televised, “The Following”, Mrs. Munson and I were talking about her upcoming “monthly visitor” and what a treat that is for everyone involved. You know how animals in the wilderness can sometimes flee when they sense a storm brewing, or the upcoming release of another Nicolas Cage movie? That’s how our household pets react to her peemers. Last month I found Squirties the Pug cowering behind the chimney in our attic, and we don’t even have the stairs to get there. Anyway, we got to talking about how men can actually be involved in the healing process. She said that warming some lotion and rubbing her feet might just take her mind off her discomfort. I said that using her hands with that same lotion and applying it the area that medical books would refer to as “my genitals” may also do the trick. And, not only did I suggest that perhaps performing oral sex on me as if the world as we know it was ending tomorrow, but I even demonstrated how she should approach it. I can’t show you here in the written word, obviously, but basically just picture someone sucking a dick while they were being zapped in the electric chair.

So, let’s put it to a vote with some of the internet’s most intelligent readers.

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A Blog About Health, And To Be More Specific, Pooping

"This is what your dump looks like through a microscope"

(This article was sent in from one of my famous friends who shall remain nameless. As a courtesy to our readers who send in videos, pictures, etc., we do not disclose personal information without that person’s consent. In the unlikely event we cannot resist telling you who sent in what, this particular article was sent in from Johnny DiLoretto.)

Huffingtonpost.com – Though childish songs make crude jokes, there’s nothing funny about diarrhea. Aside from the painful, twisting feeling in your guts, there’s just something psychologically upsetting about losing control of your bowels. It’s embarrassing. It’s disgusting. And we’ve all been there. But for many, diarrhea is more than a shameful stain to be washed away in an impromptu laundry load; in the US alone, more than 500,000 suffer and 15,000 die every year from uncontrollable diarrhea caused by infection with Clostridium difficile.

Pretty alarming picture, huh? Even though most of us were expecting something brown, those things are purple like it’s one of Grimace’s dumps. Who had the coveted job of taking that picture, do you suppose? An intern, right? Real doctor: ”Here, go mash this poop nugget between two slides and capture a jpeg we can send to Huffington Post.” That room has got to be smelly. I’d rather work in a Forensics lab testing gallons of semen trying to catch rapists. At least that room smells like someone just mopped it with bleach. What alarms me about this story is that 15,000 people die every year from uncontrollable diarrhea. That’s an oxymoron, right? Nobody can control diarrhea, not without being the life of the party anyway. I honestly can’t think of a worse way to die than under my own poopalanche. Perhaps the only way to escape would be if you inflated one of those North Face jackets and rose to the surface. Now, as human beings, it’s in our very nature to deal with horrifying events (especially those where someone has died suffocating in their own shit frappe) by having a sense of humor about it. If people are expected to attend a wake where someone has died at the smelly hands of their own poop, they should fill that person’s casket with chili so only their head is exposed. BYOC (chips) for dipping! Have a receiving line that quickly turns into Pun City: “Sorry for your loss, he was a good shit”, “I mean this in the good way, but he was a real asswipe”, etc. What better opportunity to teach your children about the lighter side of death than by sending them out back to hit a colon-shaped pinata that explodes Tootsie rolls? You may never again have the chance to attend a wake where the cause of death is “ass”, so let’s try to have some fun with this thing.

Take care of yourself, and may you drop nothing but solids today.
Martin

Wicked Improper Health Corner: Looks Like If You Drink Diet Coke, There’s A Pretty Decent Chance That You’re Going To Kill Yourself Tomorrow

Bloomberg's going to love this

Shine: We know that sugary sodas aren’t good for our bodies; now it turns out that they may not be good for our minds, either. A new study of more than 260,000 people has found a link between sweetened soft-drinks and depression — and diet sodas may be making matters worse.
I don’t drink diet coke (not capping that) because ~~I hate diet coke~~ I don’t put junk in the temple. But if you do, looks like you’re pretty much dead. Don’t Ray Lewis the messenger.

(But I do drink coffee and booze, and bad news, that was the next sentence in the article was something about coffee drinkers being in danger of depression also, and even though I claim that I perk up when I’m drinking booze, I’m pretty sure it’s a depressant. Guess we’re all f-ed, because between soda drinkers, coffee drinkers, and binge drinkers, I think we’ve covered everybody. Of course the depression might stem from the fact that most of those 260,000 drones probably had to go to work yesterday, and probably have to go work today, and probably have to go to work tomorrow, until they’re dead.)

If you made it to work today and didn’t off yourself, Happy Thursday!

Ladies and Gentlemen, I Give You “New Elvis”

Boston, MA – For me, it’s a toss up between which disease I’d rather have. Let’s say you gave me the choice between Tourette’s and Parkinson’s, okay? I think I’m gonna have to go with Tourette’s. Not only is Parkinson’s a death sentence, but it basically makes you feel like you’re a human cement mixer. Plus, no one hangs on to any pictures you’re in because you always appear blurry. Although, Tourette’s may as well be a death sentence, too, because who’s going to hang out with you? Did you say “a hooker?” That’s what I was thinking, but they’re probably going to charge you with an additional Tourette’s fee. Honestly, the only pro I can think of with Parkinson’s is that you could whack it with your hands behind your head. Just lean your dick against a mailbox and let the shaking milk you off. See what I mean about it being a toss up?

(Thanks to Chris for the link and the other 6 people that read us and this guy with Tourette’s. Buy something from his site or just PayPal him some money to get shitfaced)

How Was My Day Yesterday?

Boston, MA – While you sat there at your desk, doing a job you hate to make money for someone else’s company, I was getting fingerbanged by my Primary Care Physician. Yep, this is the same guy that walked in on me last year, lying in his office trying to weigh my meat on his floor scale (2.6 pounds!) Anyway, don’t bother writing or commenting with your well wishes, everything went fine and there are no lumps on my testicles or my prostate. If I had to (HAD TO) pick a favorite part, it’s the ice-breaker right after he takes off his stinky glove and throws it into a “Biohazard” bin, which is really just a trash barrel with a nifty sticker on it. “So, how’s everything else in your life going?” Well, actually, I had a pretty good stretch going there, that is, until you put your hand so deep in my ass I thought you’d be able to operate me like a Muppet. You just fondled my berries and took my ass virginity and you didn’t even have to take me to The Outback first. I don’t want to talk about my life outside of here. I want to go home and hug my mother.

"Kleenex to wipe off excess lube, but also for tears"

"If this half empty tube of lube could talk...."

Doctor: “Armpit Bumps Most Likely Caused By Deodorant Overuse”

Boston, MA – Well, the people have spoken. By a unanimous vote of 9-3, in favor of “show us your armpit”, here is the picture of my armpit. Also, happy to report that in yesterday’s video (scroll down), two of the five people swept over that waterfall actually survived. Talk about a lifetime trump card to one-up anybody. “Oh, you were in a car accident? Oh, your house got foreclosed on? Oh, you went bungie jumping? Well, I got flushed off the side of a mountain, falling 6 miles and lived to tell about it after riding 3 dead bodies like a toboggan.” Anyway, my armpits are a hot mess, and I don’t know if the picture does it any justice but they feel like a pussy that’s been destroyed by mosquitoes.

"Matted nest of bumps, clogged pores, and Right Guard bits"

Friendly Nutrition Reminder!

Today’s nutrient is potassium! Tell me you wouldn’t like to practice Mouth Yoga in that.

"Keep going...keep going...that's a girl"

Wicked Improper Dropping A Little Science On Your Ass: Swallowing Semen Is The Fountain Of Youth For Women

"Drink me if you want to live."

MSNBC, So you know it’s true: Evidence is accumulating that the more sex you have, the better off you are.

I kid you not, ladies. Semen is good stuff. It gives a shot of zinc, calcium, potassium, fructose, proteins — a veritable cornucopia of vitality! Another recent study found that women who gave their men oral sex, and swallowed, had a lower risk of preeclampsia, the dangerously high blood pressure that sometimes accompanies pregnancy. There have been other studies showing that sex lowers blood pressure, and might even protect against strokes because of its stress-relieving ability.

Here are several potential benefits:

1. Easing depression and stress
2. Relieving pain
3. Boosting cardio health
4. Healing wounds
5. Fighting aging

Sometimes in the blogging game, you have to know when to step aside and let the news speak for itself.

Wednesday Wouldya, Midnight Express Edition

Before (circa 1994)

Afta afta (circa 2012)

Daily Mail: When Angela Carnegie made the disastrous decision to smuggle heroin from Thailand, she had no idea how much worse her life could get. After being caught at Bangkok airport, she was sentenced to life in a Thai prison in 1993 – where she was forced to eat rotting food teeming with maggots, sleep next to prisoners with leprosy and survive without running water.

Carnegie, from Chicago, was in her twenties and had just broken up with a serious boyfriend. Feeling vulnerable, she decided to take up a friend’s offer for some quick cash by bringing a suitcase lined with drugs back to the U.S. Thai officials spotted her immediately at the airport and she was arrested. She sentenced to life at the infamous ‘Bangkok Hilton’ prison.

She said that after she was sentenced, she contemplated suicide. The prison is called the ‘Big Tiger’ by Thais because ‘it eats those on the inside’. During her decade at the prison, she would often sleep next to prisoners with tuberculosis, leprosy, pink eye and various other rashes and infections.

But her story does have a happy ending. After she was extradited to the United States on December 6, 2002, she gave that same boyfriend a call. He was the one person who told her not to go to Thailand. An eight-hour phone call lead to a nine-year marriage.

Obvious question, and I know you’re all thinking it, so I’m going to say/write it: 10 f8cking years in a Thai torture prison, and not one pound shed? Either the “Eat Less” diet is bullshit (it’s not) or I’m not getting the whole story here. Don’t get me wrong, this prison would eat me up and shit me out the other end, but it does make me raise an eyebrow. And what about that dude who dumped her, told her not to go smuggle drugs, then marries her 10 years later, knowing full well that she might have leprosy and “various other rashes and infections?” “Various. Other. Rashes.” No thanks. But National Geographic did a story about her, so I guess it has to be true.

Would I leave the US to smuggle drugs out of the Far East? Hell no, I saw Midnight Express. Would I marry this lady a decade after she skipped town? I doubt it – I haven’t forgotten about the VORs. But would show her my Big Tiger while she was still in the can? Despite my misgivings about the details of this story, of course I ”would.” Can you imagine the conjugal visits at this joint? Insanity. Plus a great story to tell. I’d have either walked out of there triumphant, or humiliated that a) I couldn’t please 50 willing women at once and b) my dick fell off from leprosy.

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Exciting News From Your Pals at Wicked Improper!

Boston, MA – There has been much ado about our invention, the MotherSucker(tm), a synthetic robot head that not only blows you while you shower, but also has the intelligence and decency not to speak to you when you’re finished. Well, we received a few emails from interested parties, however, one of our legal spanish readers told us he has a condition that prevents him from enjoying receiving oral in the shower. Believe it or not, and you can Google this, the Mexican medical term for it is “Aguablowjaphobia.” So, we began tinkering and also decided to offer a USB version, just in case pounding your meat in front of a computer is one of your faves. Also, don’t think we’re not talking about a universal car adapter. Without going into details, who wouldn’t like to have the MotherSucker(tm) in their glove compartment while you’re 70 cars deep at the Hampton tolls?

Like a real, live woman, the MotherSucker was born to either swallow or accept facials (it’s one or the other, girls) and I think most of us would agree that’s what makes women so beautiful. For those of you that don’t really care if you remain employed, please watch the MotherSucker in action and take special note of her life-like suction control. Yippee Kai Yay, MotherSucker.

(The following is a dramatization)

You’re Swimming In Piss Whether You Like It Or Not

Studies... show.. that... that... uh... what?

Shine: If you’re taking a refreshing dip in a pool with four other people, odds are one of you is urinating. This is not gross-out myth, but cold, depressing fact from a recent survey conducted by the Water Quality & Health Council, a scientific research group sponsored by the American Chemistry Council. The survey, conducted in April, asked nearly 1,000 adults whether they urinate in pools. One in five bravely admitted their mistakes.

“Studies” are awesome. This had to be the easiest “survey” for some underpaid college kid to pull off – you don’t have to waste your time asking 1000 people if they piss in the pool, because they all do. That’s the beauty of the pool. And it’s NEVER a mistake. And, sorry, “Water Quality & Health Council?” If they’ve moved their focus away from industrial waste, acid rain, and pesticides in drinking water, their job is done here, time to get a real job.

Red Dares You To Watch This And Not Get Your Ass Off The Couch

Getting a little misty in here…

Wicked Improper Fitness Report: Studies Show That Halting Food And Drink Will Kill You

Too much sun. Not enough steak.

NY Daily News: Swiss newspaper Tages-Anzeiger reports that a woman starved to death after embarking on a spiritual diet that required her to stop eating or drinking and live off sunlight alone. The unnamed Swiss woman in her fifties decided to follow the radical fast in 2010 after viewing an Austrian documentary about an Indian guru who claims to have lived this way for 70 years.

Before you get too excited and think, “Wow, she made it two years, nice!”, don’t. She died in January of 2011, giving her, by my estimate, about a week of life before she shrivelled up in the sun like Spongebob Squarepants and died.

“An Indian guru?!” Let me stop you right there. If’ you’re going to put your lives in anyone’s hands, it should be Martin’s or mine. Not some smelly swami who spends his days pretending to levitate for rice bowls. Their entire existance is predicated on tricking rubes in town into believing they possess magical powers~~, like the power to pull out in time~~. A sunlight diet just doesn’t pass the f8cking smell test. On the other hand, if you want to live on lemon grass, tree bark, and morning dew, go ahead. You’ll look like Edward from Breaking Dawn, without all the cool vampire sex powers or perfectly touseled hair, but as long as you’re eating something, you can probably scrape by long enough to make it to the next Occupy rally.

Breaking News: Ashley Lezandro Is Pregnant!

Boston, MA and Somerset, MA, Home of the Tanning Salon Robbery – Well, our biggest fears have been realized. It turns out that our commenters, readers, and Kyle the Mis-Speller were right: Ashley Lezandro has a baby inside of her. If there’s one thing I know, it’s how to decipher the gender of a baby based strictly on how the mother is carrying. It is very clear to this blogger that Ashley is going to give birth to an Italian. I just based that on a few things. The tanning, the alleged armed robbery of a cash register containing $100, and the perfectly mounted fake gravy bags that unfortunately will not produce any milk when suckling, even though as an adult I can almost guarantee they are fun to practice on.

Now, the real question is, will Ashley’s body bounce back into bikini shape by Labor Day? If there is a god, I know he is up there right now with the best cleavage viewing perspective of anyone, and he’s got an undecided, yet throbbing semi. God, if you are reading this, please accept my prayer to let Ashley be in the 1% that isn’t gross and disfigured after giving birth.

Looking back, it’s kind of embarrassing to see that I laid all of my cards on the table for Stacy when I wrote the hit song “The Somerset Three”, but now I’m back on Team Ashley. She needs our support (literally, like back support), so let’s take a trip down mammary lane and cast your vote once and for all for Ashley.

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"Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!"

(Wicked Improper is a proud sponsor of “National Pull Out Day”, where people that plan to insert their penis into a woman, or, for our gayer audience, into the gross hairy bum of a man, are encouraged to withdraw prior to release in an effort to curb our very evident overpopulation issue as well as stopping the spread of disease. You may resume normal blasting the following day.)

Red Sox 2012: Still Fat, Drunk, And Lazy

"IMUNGRY"

I think it’s fair before getting into this post that I answer a question that must be on the front of your mind: How long before Red stops blogging about Tim Wakefield after a Red Sox loss? Answer: When the Sox win the World Series without him.

Five more pitchers take the mound for the Sox, three lay eggs (it’s Easter tomorrow!), including Josh “$16 million plus all you can eat and drink per year” Beckett, who let the Tigers have their f-ing way with him. Sixteen million. That’s about $500,000 for this latest performance. I’m not going to call Josh an overpaid, under appreciative, disrespectful, fat f*ck, but I am going to point out that I could’ve lost this game for the price of a T-pass and maybe a coupon to Legal.

Wicked Improper Health Corner

Yep.

Daily Mail: Parenting guru Gina Ford caused a storm recently when she said in her new book that women should be having sex with their partners within four to six weeks of giving birth.

Why is this news? This isn’t controversial. Men have been waiting for (spoiler alert) 10 months (not nine) dutifully rubbing your back, taking out the garbage, maybe even doing the dishes. Then they have to wait another six weeks for love make? You’re breasts will never be fuller ~~(hint: until you spring for the extra 300ccs*)~~. It’s time, fcs!

This reminds me of a story that has almost nothing to do with pregnancy, about a time when I got my vas deferens lasered literally to death. To make sure I was truly unable to make a Red Jr., the doctor wanted me to come back after I’d made 30 blasties (he said “ejaculations”), just to be sure nothing was still swimming around. I said “How’s your schedule look for this Friday?”

*Each.

Please Take A Moment Out Of Your Day To Consider Charity

Boston, MA – Please take a moment, preferably in silence, to think about all the children out there that are less fortunate. And, for the record, I’m not referring to those kids that have fucked up Cleft Lips, because even though they’ll never go to a prom, you know they’re going to be the balls if they ever enter a Watermelon Seedspitting Contest. People, even children, need to take life’s lemons and turn them into lemonade, like, “Hey, I may have a cleft lip, but you have to admit it’s a pretty good place to drink through a straw.” I’m talking about the other ones, that have no food, no running water, no iPhone or iPod Touch, or even Comcast On Demand, so gross and smelly even the flies aren’t interested, playing soccer with a set of taped up donkey balls, nothing to celebrate, just hanging around, digging for grubs. Those are the ones we need to rescue.

If you’d like to consider donating to charity, please visit Google.com and do a search for charity. You will find many to choose from, some of which will actually have the best interest of the people they represent in mind. I feel like some charities could benefit from changing their names. The Make-A-Wish Foundation? That’s perfect. It has pizazz, it’s eye-catching, and everyone knows that some lucky kid is going to shake hands with Michael Jordan, who coincidentally has had his fingers in more holes than a professional bowler. One cause whose name could use a lift (if you’ll excuse the pun) is Breast Cancer Awareness. I bet you’d triple your donation dollars if you changed it from “Breast Cancer Awareness” to “There Are Awesome Tits In Danger.”

If you believe your tits may be in danger, for example, if you find lumps that are not your nipples, or you see Al Qaeda snooping around them, please do not procrastinate and contact your Primary Care Physician today. If something were to happen to you, like you’re in an unfortunate accident where you’ve crushed your face in the trash compactor under your sink, and the doctors are left with no choice but to amputate your head, you will be thankful, as will we, that your breasts are still in perfect condition. And, we’re probably years away from this, but if it’s going to be a closed casket ceremony at a wake, it would be nice if there was a small window so you could get one last peek at a really nice set.

Is Hairy The New Sexy?

Boston, MA – One of the good things about Wicked Improper, other than never visiting here, is that it provides a great forum for everyone to hurt someone’s feelings with hate mail or intentionally hurtful voting. You’ll recall last week when I posted a “Would You Flume This?” with a picture of my own disgusting body hair. I saw from the records that my partner Red voted “I would not, look how fucking gross that is.” I should point out, we’re just blog partners, not partners, like, gayers that like to mash balls and thump helmets together while watching videos of Mario Lopez cardio-boxing. Anyway, my body hair got me to thinking, is hairy the new sexy? And before Red gets all high and mighty with his voting, his chest looks like someone that used to be hairy but then barely escaped a fire.

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Get Fit Boston!

Boston, MA – That’s it, Boston, Winter is officially over and now it’s time to get back into peak bathing suit condition. Men, you’ll want to get those board shorts ready, the ones that for some reason don’t come with a liner so you rub against the wet material all day long and your crotch and asshole gets chafed and your helmet gets a raspberry on it. Women, don’t be one of those girls on the beach that are gross to look at, get into the gym TODAY (or tonight.) From time to time, Wicked Improper’s in-house training expert, Red, will give ladies free pointers on how to look like someone a guy would want to hog-bounce all over. We decided we should collaborate on the definitive diet plan for Women. Of course, we wanted to come up with a catchy name, kind of like they’ve done with “P90X” and “Insanity”, and yet, we wanted it to be unique and identifiable in what has quickly become a saturated marketplace. Some of the early ideas we were spitballing were “VagAsylum”, “AmpedPussy”, “ExcelleCunt”, “Quickclit”, “Beaverthrust”, and “CockramYoga.” We finally settled on a name that would not only drive the point of the workout and results across, but also be very simple to remember, and we call it “All Water No Food.” While you stick to your cardiovascular and weight training programs, all we ask is that you take nothing than other water into your system for 10 weeks. For more information about “All Water No Food”, please email Red or Martin @ wickedimproper.com. For just $10 a month, Members will be required to “check in” at all times via Facebook, and we’ll send you daily email reminders like “Remember to drink 14 gallons of water today” and “What the fuck are you doing at the Cheesecake Factory?” In return, you email us pictures of your progress.

"Herro"

(Disclaimer: Wicked Improper kinda not licensed to give advice on health. Wicked Improper not responsible if you feel overhydrated or develop a urinary tract infection from constantly urinating. Probably not a good idea to really stick to the “no food” part, but don’t abuse your freedom. Wicked Improper watches you on the beach, sometimes from up in the dunes.)