Have You Guys Ever Heard Of Kate Upton?

Boston, MA – I was just flipping through the pages of a self help article titled “Diagnosis Vaginosis”, and I have to tell you, I was surprised at what I found. All this time, I thought vaginosis was when you dangled your pocket watch back and forth until the pussy got verrrrrry sleepy. Now, I could certainly go into more detail about this sickness, but let’s just use this blog as a reminder for the ladies to schedule visits to have their pussies checked out. Obviously, there are times when a lady doesn’t feel fresh, and I kick myself for not coming out with an oblong shaped life saver designed to mint out that hole.

Anyway, here is 10 hours, literally, of Kate Upton. I’ll be honest, both of my arms were exhausted by the 7th hour. But, through hydration, mind over matter, and the really overwhelming desire to launch jets out, I was able to stay the course. I officially tapped out at an elapsed time of 9:17:04. Don’t be ashamed if you can only make it 36 seconds. Have a Snickers, come back in 20 minutes, and try to beat your previous best.

yw,

Martin

 

Happy Birthday Ken Johnson!

Boston, MA (I think) – Ken Johnson, you tit looking SON of a bitch. How old are ya today, Kenny Boy? The other day, Ken and I were emailing back and forth about the recession and how it really hasn’t made much of an impact on the price of a Mexican handjob. Yes, yes, you have to somehow get to Mexico, so there would of course be some overhead, but once there be ready to get your tug on for mere pennies on the dollar. Then we started talking about how fun it would be to go pinata shopping in Juarez, the pinata/murder capital of the world. Just two gringos flashing their walking around money going “Donde…Where is…WHERE IS THE PINATA STORE? Que…Cuando… SMASHO PINATO? We want to have mucho funno!” Then we’d throw one of our Carlos n’ Charlie’s sombreros down and pay homage to the Mexican Hat dance by grinding up and down against a light post and vomiting on a taxi cab. Anyway, Ken is passionate about Mexico having it’s own version of Mt. Rushmore, and it should have Speedy Gonzalez, Juan Valdez (on loan from Colombia), The Dos Equis Guy, and Shakira’s Ass.

Happy Birthday Ken, Lord of Breastmashington.

 

"Milk me, Kenny"

Ladies And Gentlemen, I Give You, The MotherSucker!

Boston, MA – When I first announced the MotherSucker a few days ago, the world-changing invention that blows you while you shower, there sure were a lot of Negative Nathan’s out there. I heard everything from “you’ll never get funding” to “can you be held personally liable if someone electrocutes their dick off?” Even Mrs. Munson chimed in with “if you think we’re going to have a fake human head mounted in the shower, you’re wrong.”

I want everyone to relax. This is a time for ‘yes’ in a world where too often we’re told ‘no.’ This is a time for smiles. After all, we’re talking about a synthetic robot head that mounts to your shower wall and sucks your dick while you shampoo. Please keep in mind that what you are about to see is just the prototype. Please keep in mind that you are about to witness history.

But first, let me run this scenario by you so you can envision the benefits of owning your own MotherSucker. You wake up Monday morning and, like most of the world, you hate yourself and your life. You sit down to make your morning pooper like a big boy, but since you went to Market Basket and saved 70 cents on single ply toilet paper, just as you begin wiping, your index finger rips through the paper and goes right into your asshole. You can wash it off with soap and water if you want, but you know there will be a lingering phantom smell. Well, what better way to deal with this smelly turn of events than if you received a blowjob while you shower? Can you think of a better way to start your workweek? I know you want to pay $1 gabillion dollars for the MotherSucker, but good news, the MSRP is $499 (not including wig, fake breasts mount, electrical hookup, and installation of cum drain.)

Get ready to be amazed! Ladies and Gentleman, without further adieu, I give you “The MotherSucker, the Blowjob Device of the New Millenium. To infinite loads, and Beyonnnnnnnd!”

 

"The MotherSucker, you don't have to buy it flowers"

W

"Wicked Improper Aware The MotherSucker Kind of Looks Like Michael Jackson"

w

"Great news for our Asian market, The MotherSucker accomodates tiny dicks!"



"The Martin Munson Deluxe model MotherSucker takes BIG, FAT DICKS."

 

"Don't be afraid, let MotherSucker do her thing"

 

"Make MotherSucker Deepthroat if you want!"

 

"Dead hookers tell secrets. MotherSucker does not!"


Could This Be The Mother of All Inventions?

Boston, MA – (Author’s note: This is longer than your typical blog, but you’re at work so what else do you have going on?) As an inventor with an above average IQ (information quota), I am always coming up with new ideas to improve the human experience and the ways we interract with our surroundings. Just a few weeks ago I showed you some never before released blueprints of my portable fan that cools down everyone in the room simultaneously. I am currently having preliminary conversations with investors, however, a few of them have balked at my insistence of calling the fan “The Testicooler.” I’ve also been noodling away a couple of other ideas and want to share them with you. The first one is the world’s smallest tanning bed that allows you to remove your wedding ring and immediately tan your ring finger. This would be perfect for when you are meeting that special someone at the Red Roof Inn and you simply do not want them to know you are married. As an added bonus, I suppose if you were small enough you could also put your dick in there and tan it at your own relaxed pace, rather than having no control and risking a scorched/cracking scrotum like you would with a conventional tanning bed. This would be ideal for men that need a tan penis for some reason. Maybe you want to lay it on a tiny chaise lounge wearing a little fedora and sunglasses to take a silly picture, that way you can send it to friends via Twitter about how your dick is on vacation. I don’t know.

The next invention idea I have is more like a wish. I wish someone would build a very lightweight computer tablet. While the current tablets on the market are certainly light and easy to manage, I just feel like I am one body spasm or violent tug away from having my iPad tip over while it’s balancing on my chest and knocking out my two front teeth as I’m watching porn.

Now, my new invention could very well be the ‘mother’ of all inventions, so get ready to sound the pun alarm because I call it the…..drumroll….”MotherSucker.” What is the MotherSucker? Well, you know how Monday mornings you hate yourself so much because you’ve completely caved into the idea of spending your life working at a desk to help make someone else rich, and the only thing that makes you feel good about yourself is jerking off in the shower? Well, what if I told you that the MotherSucker would blow you while you shampoo? Ask yourself honestly how much you would pay for that. Did you say “a gabillion dollars” like I did? All you have to do is install the MotherSucker, start lathering your body with soap and daydreaming about how fun it would be to punch your boss, just like you would during a normal shower, and then let the MotherSucker blow you to completion. It’s unbelievable that I am the first person to come up with this. If you and/or people in your personal or professional network would be interested in getting in on the ground floor and investing in this idea, please contact me at martin@wickedimproper.com.

(The following illustrations are for serious investors only. Please do not look down here if you have no money.)

Here is a sketch of your average male showering before work. Look at him. Take extra note of how he looks defeated, with his brow furrowed, like he can’t believe his entire meaningless life revolves around going to meetings and being involved with a networking group.

 

 W

And now, the moment you have been waiting for! Here is the rough sketch of my invention the MotherSucker in use. Look at this guy! He is ready to smash through a wall like the Kool-Aid man and do something extraordinary today. I want to make it clear up front that customers will need the assistance of a trustworthy plumber. (Please note that the wig and fake breasts are optional but would come standard with the deluxe model)

w

Be Careful What You Wish For, It Just Won’t Come True

"Well herro, Asian ghost"

 

Boston, MA – I wished for something so hard last night that didn’t come true, and now I have a case of the Friday morning bluebies. Mrs. Munson is in Newport (holla!), so I went to bed with my underpants pulled halfway down, just in case that was the night a ghost decided to show up. I even lit a candle and recited a poem over and over: “I wish I may, I wish I might, have a ghost preferrably female come and suck my dick tonight.” That’s not cheating, you guys. Mrs. Munson would probably say it is, but what are you going to do, anger the ghost? Just let it suck your dick and hopefully take its’ time. We have all night here. I’d rather deal with the wrath of Mrs. Munson than some ghost shaking the foundation and smashing vases and picture frames. I feel like if you don’t give in, you’ll just end up being haunted with pictures of dicks and vulgar notes written in steam on the bathroom mirror.

Let’s put it to a vote. Please send this important link to everyone in your personal and professional network.

Is it cheating if you get blown by and/or nail a ghost?

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(Here’s the transcript of the note I left on my nightstand)

Dear Ghosty,

Things should be fairly quiet around here with not so many rules as Mrs. Munson is spending a few days in Newport. I should be back from golf tonight around 9pm. Please make yourself at home. Nevermind, look who I’m talking to, this is your home. But there’s no reason for you to stay up in the attic. For your convenience, I am once again going to bed with my underpants pulled halfway down. Also, some of my likes include getting blown. For dislikes, please resist the temptation to sodomize me. That’s not cool, I am not inviting you down here for that.

Thanks,

Martin

I Think I’m With Martin’s Initial Assessment – This Country Is F-ed

Mar-KET! Bas-KET!

 

Fox:  A mother who lost her 19-year-old son after a Border Patrol agent shot him in the back is suing the agency and the agent.  Guadalupe Guerrero said Monday that the Border Patrol had no right to take her son’s life, even if he had marijuana in his truck as they say.  “Why did they kill him? Who are they to play God?” Guerrero said in Spanish on what would have been her son’s 21st birthday.

A Border Patrol agent identified by police as Lucas Tidwell shot La Madrid three times — twice in the back and once in the thigh — as he climbed a ladder on the U.S.-Mexico border fence in southeastern Arizona on March 21, 2011.  He was born [in Douglas] nearly 10 years after his mother came to the U.S. from Agua Prieta in the northeastern Mexican state of Sonora.

“I say he didn’t have drugs, but let’s suppose he did,” Guerrero said. “Let’s suppose he had 40 pounds of marijuana. You think that’s dangerous enough to kill a young boy, an American citizen? Why not send him to jail?”  “That’s the only thing the United States government cares about — money,” she said.

 

A slightly deeper reading into the story will tell you that the agents found 48 pounds of weed in the trunk of this kid’s car.  I’d round that to 50, she rounded down to 40, but whatever, since she maintains that he didn’t have any drugs.  But let’s suppose he did, because, you know, he did.  Now there are some sticky issues here, since it does seem a bit of a high price to pay for muling around a bunch of pot.  On the other hand, 50 pounds?  That’s a veritable sh1tload of weed.  It’s not like he was scoring an ounce or two for his grandmother’s glaucoma, you know?  Then there’s the issue of legality, since pot should probably already be legal.  But it’s not, yet, so again, Mr. Anchor Baby Guerrero isn’t coming off as the cleanest of perps here.

 

But the real story, which will probably never surface, is with the mother.  If I do the math right, Guadalupe has been in the United States for 31 years.  I don’t know if she got in the country legally or not, but what I do get from the story is that in 31 years she has not bothered to learn English, developed a disdain for the US government (join the club, although I notice you’ve spent quite a lot of time here over the last three decades), and raised a 20 year old drug smuggler.  I’d say that deserves a multi-million dollar payoff at the expense of legal taxpaying citizens everywhere, don’t you?

“What Drugs Am I On?”

Boston, MA (and coursing through this guys’ veins) – You almost want to ask this guy if he has tickets to the gun show, but he’d probably produce an actual 9 millimeter. I’m not just saying that because he’s black, he’s in the NFL, and he’s got to protect himself, but I am saying two of those three things. If you immediately thought to yourself that one of them was the black part, maybe you need to start with the man in the mirror. You should be asking him to make a change.

Introducing the Washington Redskins’ LaRon Landry (no relation to Tom.) I’m not sure if it puts stress on your body if your bicep is bigger than your shoulder or head, or if your forearm is bigger than my thigh, but LaRon pulls this look off. And as you know, the NFL has a Zero Tolerance Policy when it comes to performance enhancing drugs. Out of the two major professional football leagues in America, they are one of the strictest.

Let’s play a new game today called….”What Drugs Am I On?”

 

"Me and Gronk done good in schools. Nosotros Soy Fiesta!"

 

What Drugs Am I On?

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