Tuesday, March 30, 2010

The Sure Shot

Dear Chuck,

My wife and I have been trying to fall pregnant for some time now. We’re both getting frustrated and sex feels like a chore. Before we turn to methods such as IVF, I thought I’d get some insight from you in the hope that you can save us time, money and frustration



Dear TJ,

Isn’t it funny how a 17 year old girl can toddle off to schoolies week, imbibe one to many vodka cruisers, drunkenly pash on with multiple adolescent boys, end up at a dark and dingy party and invariably fall onto the permanently aroused dick of some lucky scamp. Despite the fact that the teenage lad probably got 2-3 pumps in before he prematurely ejaculated, his marijuana addled sperm somehow found its way into her uterus where her pickled ovum lay waiting. Her egg, clearly under the influence puts up less resistance than if it was sober and the next thing you know we have an unwanted teenage pregnancy to a dude that she barely remembers. Totally romantic!

TJ it’s quite fortunate for you that Mrs Long is at this very moment ‘with child’ which makes Chuck even more of an expert than normal. As an avid reader of Reality Bytes you’d probably assume that Chuck managed to knock up Mrs Long the moment she pulled the goalie (went off birth control). And you know what, Chuck even thought that would be the case. When you couple prodigious physical attributes, unbelievable stamina and intellect, it only seems fair that you’d conceive straight away since God or Darwin would want you to have your super sperm in the general population as soon as possible.

So it’ll come as a surprise that Chuck didn’t have Mrs Long up the duff after the first dalliance. Yes, that information is probably as crushing to you as it was to Chuck’s ego. It’s Chucks fault, he allows himself to be a role model to the readers. Fortunately it was the second try! Chuck hopes you forgive him for letting you down.

All of Chuck’s bullshit aside, the simple truth is that making a baby just isn’t as easy as one would have you think.

As you know TJ, Chuck isn’t a qualified medical practitioner so you’re not going to get any mumbo jumbo about sperm count and all that crap. A couple of simple things to try would be a fertility test for both you and your wife and looser underwear to keep your cack and balls cool.

Trying to produce spawn is an emotional roller coaster. You go at it like dogs on heat for a few weeks and then anxiously wait to see if anything sticks. When it doesn’t, there is frustration, sadness and sometimes anger. Rinse and repeat until the result changes. On top of that you have people’s expectations and emotions that can both impede the outcome but also fracture the relationship.

Chuck’s approach was very simple – present Mrs Long with an unrelenting wave of semen that left her ovaries with no choice but to surrender. If Chuck was a general he’d have won every war he ever commanded and you’d be mentioning his name with some of histories greatest strategists. Now not everyone has Chuck’s mental and physical stamina so it’s important that you tailor an approach that works for you.

Chuck always finds it hard to believe that people’s sex lives could become a chore. The key is to maintain the status quo. If you make love to your wife 4 times per week, keep that pace up. Don’t try and add more to the cycle, stick with what works. If you only pork your wife once per fortnight, then you may want to ask yourself why you’re even trying to reproduce.

It is also critical to identify her nitro zone – that is, the period of time when she is at her most fertile. That is when you need to bring the thunder, delivering air raids at every available moment. Don’t worry about temperatures and all that mickey mouse stuff, just fill her poontang with man milk at every opportunity. The key is to have her tubes bursting at the seams.

Too many people seem to lose the joy of sex when they’re trying for a kid, which is a bit weird to Chuck. There’s plenty of anecdotal evidence to suggest that once you start mind fucking yourself and thinking that it’s never going to happen that it doesn’t happen.

TJ, Chuck would encourage you and your wife to take another six months and get after it. Make an effort to make the intercourse enjoyable and satisfying. Identify her hot zone and drop the hammer on her as only you can.

If after six months there’s still no result, go and buy yourself the most expensive pedigree dog you can find. You’ll either get pregnant almost straight away or quickly morph into one of those weird couples that treat their pets like children and end up attending swinger’s parties.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Unleashing the Beast


I’m young (21) and have a lot of female friends at uni. The problem I have is that I’m not into sport but enjoy music, fashion and dancing. Of course this means that everyone thinks I’m gay. I think even my girlfriends think I’m gay. I get a lot of crap from the guys at uni.

The big issue is that I’m not gay. I don’t think I come across gay. I have yet to have sex and because all these people think I’m gay I don’t think it will happen


Dear Tyler

This problem is so easily solved my friend. Pay for sex!

Depending on when you go, you could put this issue to bed (pun intended) for as little as $50 bucks. And for 50 bones, you’d probably get a nice little STD to remind you of your first time! What could be better?

Ok, its time to get serious.

You’re a young man looking to pound some beef and the way you act/ dress/behave is cock blocking you. Tough predicament.

You’d never pick it from Chuck’s work here at Reality Bytes since it drips pure testosterone, but Chuck also grappled with the “is he or isn’t he” question for a period of time. Chuck will give you a second to wipe your desk down since your morning skinny latte probably just got exhaled out of your nose at that admission. Style can be both a blessing and a curse. When you’re the sharpest dressed guy in the room and notice things like black being worn with navy and inappropriate use of accessories, it’s easy for the less couture minded to label you as different / homosexual.

So how did Chuck break down the misconception? High-class call girls.

Look Tyler, you’re going to have to dig yourself out of this mess if you ever want to get laid. Unlike you, Chuck really only dealt with this problem at work, so it wasn’t really as much of an issue – Chuck didn’t socialise with these people or have any desire to bone them. So much for trying to empathise with you.

The reason your situation is stickier is because you actually socialise with these people and in typical university student fashion, the girls who are currently you’re friends are typically the ones that you should be trying to nail. It’s obvious that you are a little different to the other dudes you’re studying with since you value female companionship and company. Every other bloke in the joint is angling for ways to get into your mates knickers while you’re comparing notes on “So You Think You Can Dance”.

What repulses your female friends about the other males attracts them to you.  You’re interested in their lives and feelings rather than just scamming for poontang. This is all well and good, but you’re the one going home and whacking off into a sock while the other males occasionally pull after a boozy afternoon at the tavern.

Believe it or not, you’re actually in a great position to right this ship. You can hunt from within the pride. You have easy access to fresh meat because you’re already inside the abattoir! Think about it. You’ve lulled these lovely ladies into a false sense of security – they think you’re one of them! Now its time to unleash the beast.

Just like most predators, you need to be strategic and hunt your prey in a calculated and methodical manner. Let Chuck guide you on the path.

Its important to remember that if you manage to nut up and actually bag one of these chicks you’ll probably tear apart the entire fabric of your friendships with this group.  Fortunately you’re only 21 and its unlikely that you will ever develop long term friendships with these girls since the minute they pull a serious bloke you’ll be iced out of their lives due to the fact that men are incredibly insecure with their women having male friends. So with that in mind, lets figure out a way that you can start nailing your buddies.

 The smartest way to play this game in Chuck’s esteemed opinion is to go after some secondary pussy right off the bat. What Chuck means by that is that you should zero in on your friends’ friends. The beauty behind this technique is that it softens the blow to your immediate friends whilst still giving yourself a chance to throw some bone. It’s important to remember that your coming out as a straight guy is going to shock your girlfriends. Here they have been sharing their most intimate details with someone that thought was a sister in arms. Your announcement to the world that you’re straight as a die is going to be like a spy coming in from the cold. It’s likely they’ll feel betrayed and let down.

So what you’ll need to do is try to find a friend of a friend and then subtly ask things like her relationship status, her interests and of course if she puts out. This will have your buddy immediately interested and will allow you to broach the issue of your sexuality and of course your sexual needs. Since you’re in tight with this girl already, you may actually be able to have a frank conversation with her about your emotions and desires.

The ultimate score here (is your friend) is piquing her interest and making you a viable option and object of her desire. Common interests are often the basis for successful relationships. You know these girls inside out (not literally unfortunately) so unless you are repulsive looking you have good grounds to get some action here.

You need to be smart in how you play this because once you have tagged one of the girls there is little chance you’ll get a shot at the others. Another advantage that you have is that you’ve probably been privy to intimate sexual details that they’ve shared in your presence. Use this to your advantage young son! You need to know which ones are easier and which ones you actually would want to be with. If you don’t play the order perfectly, you’ll completely kill any other opportunities out there. If you do get the details down pat, you’re on the gravy train as you’ll get multiple shots at the young ladies in the group and hopefully develop a little bit of groundswell around the fact that you are a newly found precious set of stones.

As for the other guys at uni that are giving you a hard time? Stop worrying about them. Just picture their faces when they find out that you’ve banged every girl in the group… maybe even simultaneously!

Sunday, March 21, 2010

A friend in need..... is a dodgy f*cker

Dear Chuck

Since my work has banned Facebook, Reality Bytes has been my saving grace.

Not only am I a wiser woman on the dating scene, I am also now a tiger in the bedroom.

My ex and I broke up a year ago and I recently ran into his mate. It was really nice to see him and we arranged to go out for lunch. Nothing sinister happened but maybe it’s worth considering.

When I first met my ex’s mate, my ex accused his mate of flirting with me and got really jealous. I thought my ex was being silly as I was offering to set his mate up with a friend of mine.

The second time I met up with his mate my ex’s worst fears were confirmed and his mate was attracted to me as he sent a text telling me that ‘I wanted to invite you up to watch some old movies but I wanted to do the right thing’ (I’m not sure if this was tactic to work out if I liked him as well or if he was throwing it back on me). I was shocked so I sent a text back saying my attraction lay with my ex and ceased all contact. I told my ex as I thought I should be honest and he wasn’t too happy.

I had a lovely afternoon with my ex’s mate and I’ve been thinking maybe I shouldn’t have overlooked him as my ex turned out to be a jerk anyway. And yes I did feel the attraction the second time I met up with him but I pushed it to the back of mind as I was with his friend. I guess I felt a bit overwhelmed and flabbergasted he admitted to it because it wasn’t right at the time and I’m not one to do the dirty on someone.

Chuck Long, is it okay to now go out with my ex-boyfriends mate?

With much gratitude,

Sleepless in Sydney

Dear Sleepless in Sydney,

First and foremost, Chuck suggests you pack up both your PC and mobile phone, drive onto the Sydney Harbour Bridge and launch those fuckers over the side. The reason for this? You seriously need to surround yourself with some higher quality blokes and the best way to start is a full audit of every single dude you know. With no email addresses or phone numbers you’ll be able to start afresh and not be dragged into the cesspool of jealousy, manipulation and deceit that appears to swirling around you.*

Chuck realizes that simply launching your PC doesn’t eradicate all email addresses but it sounded so much more dramatic than “change email addresses or block them”. It’s all about the drama here.

Your ex sounds like a fuck knuckle. He accused his mate of flirting with you and got jealous? Have a little more faith in your game son! Jealousy is an odd demon. Why would he be jealous that his mate is cracking onto his woman? He should be pumped that he pulled the sort of beef that other blokes want to get into. He probably has a right to get a bit salty if you were reciprocating the flirting, but if you weren’t then he is clearly insecure and you probably should have told him to eat rocks at that point instead of wasting any more of your life with him.

In previous posts, Chuck has touched on the rules of hooking up with your ex boyfriend’s / husband’s mates. If he dumps you, it’s fair game for the most part (unless he dumped you for blowing another one of his mates – then you’re a ho and you cant go near any other members of his friendship circle). It’s always dangerous territory when you’ve dated someone seriously for a length of time and then start feeding on his friends. Too many relationships and shared info to get in the way of things running smoothly. Having said that, so long as you aren’t hooking up with his mate just to mess with your ex then according to the court of Reality Bytes you are free to proceed.

Did you think Chuck was going to let you off the hook that easy??

Everything you need to know about suitor number two features in your email. This guy is a douche bag and Chuck will now explain why.

Suitor 2, in full knowledge that you were going out with his mate decided that he’d just fire off a text inviting you over to his place? Come on, he may as well just have said “hey if you’re not doing anything, swing by and we’ll fuck”. Totally despicable move and once you told your boyfriend (and if he had any nuts which Chuck isn’t sure about), he should have immediately cut his friend out and ended all communication. Just an underhanded move that should have told you everything you needed to know about this guy. How could you ever trust him if he was prepared to do that to his mate?

As a side note, Chuck does realise that love and attraction are strange forces and occasionally a guy falls for his mate’s girl. So in those instances how should a bloke handle it? How does he get the message across?

About the only way he can do it is like this:

However, it’s totally wanky and if he were ever caught, his manhood would forever be questioned. And Chuck could never respect him.

Anyway, lets get back on course.

To make this matter worse, not only is he a grease ball, he also invited you around to watch old movies. The only way that situation could have been shittier was if he suggested Dirty Dancing! He is treacherous, and a massive dork. Chuck’s not sure about you, but typically when women discuss what they’re most looking for in a man, deceitful and dorky don’t often feature. If he was going to be a backstabber, at the very least he could have come up with something a little more interesting to do at his place than throwing in a few dusty old DVDs and reliving the dream. You know, a cool backstabber.

So while this guy may titillate you and cause you to think about whether you might want to see him again, take pause (and Chuck’s outstanding advice) and realise that he is an A1 fuckwit. The best thing you can do is flush all memories of your ex down the crapper – including his social network. The stink of your ex has stuck to his friends!

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

The Love Boat

Hi Chuck,

With Queen Mary recently berthing in Sydney, my girlfriend has been pestering my about going on a cruise with her. I’m always up for something different, but I thought I’d run the concept by you first since you seem to have a solid grasp on reality for the most part.



Hi Tina,

Chuck appreciates you recognising the good work that goes down at Reality Bytes. If more people took the time to consider Chuck’s common sense and insight there would be significantly less facial piercings and place in time tattooing going on that’s for sure!

When considering a holiday, it’s really important to determine what your purpose or goals are for said holiday. For example, say that you have recently been through a tough break up; you’d likely be looking for an escape where you could shag random strangers and drink yourself silly. Hence you select Bali. If you are a young couple expecting your first child, perhaps you decide to hit some historic destinations that would be less accessible with a small child (e.g. Rome). Very rarely do people book a trip with no idea of what they want to explore, see or experience.

Now, if your goal is to be a floating semen receptacle then your first choice for a holiday is a cruise.

Before any 60 + years of age readers start putting calligraphy pens to paper in order to voice their complaints to Chuck about slandering cruises, Chuck needs to state that he is referring to the recent spate of cruises that are catering to the ‘youth’ market as opposed to the cruises that gather 2000 or so middle aged citizens, drift out into the ocean and proceed to leach retirement funds out of them at every port through over priced meals, gambling and tacky cocktails.

Chuck is glad to have cleared that up – wouldn’t want to offend any of the readers in aged care.

Tina, two young single females walking onto a cruise ship is like the fuckwit who climbs down into a lion enclosure at the zoo – except in this instance, the fuckwit is draping fresh steaks off himself. Think about it, once you’re in, there’s no getting out. You’re trapped and the predators will see fresh meat and immediately start devising plans to consume you as quickly (and as painfully) as possible.

Blokes are on these vessels are looking to pull pussy. It’s plain and simple. Do you really think a group of men in the age range of 18-35 are looking to get some sun, unwind and relax because they have really stressful jobs and need a break? Of course not, they’re on the high seas big game fishing and Chuck will not hear it differently.

Since Chuck excited himself so thoroughly with the “lion enclosure at the zoo” analogy, it’s time to try another one. Going on a cruise is like going to the shittiest night club you can think of. Chuck’s talking garish lighting, bad music, terrible outfits (floral shirts and men in sandals), sunburn and brutal pickup lines. Do you have a clear picture in your mind? Now multiply that experience by at least 7. 7 represents the number of nights that you are likely trapped in this shit box nightclub. But wait, this awesome analogy is not over. Just imagine that you drink a little too much (or someone drops a splash of rohypnol in your pina colada) and you end up sleeping with some slapper with too much product in his hair. In real life, you could wake up, gnaw off your arm and escape into the night with only your conscience to deal with for the rest of your life (and potentially the Chlamydia he passed onto you – at least until you have it cleared up). Unfortunately, on this floating night club, you’re confronted with the fact that you’ll likely run into this plastic haired duded again and again and again and again. It’s like a reoccurring nightmare!

Chuck’s not finished

In real life, if you ploughed this guy and inexplicably ran into him again a week or two later, man law states that only he can have a crack at you again. His mates aren’t allowed to line you up for a length unless he states that he is uninterested. Unfortunately, once you hit international waters all bloke rules fall by the wayside, meaning that not only will this guy have a crack at you again, his mates will also circle your carcass knowing full well that you are more than happy to partake in one night stands (there is a 100% chance that every detail of your encounter has been shared with his mates plus other details that didn’t occur but make him sound more prolific as a lover). They will be pack hunting but not as a team – each guy will be out to get his. You will be subjected to ruthless backstabbing and extremely cheesy pick up lines all night long*.

*Please note, a smart bloke will partner with a friend to play good cop / bad cop. This involves one dude running crass or dodgey pick up lines on you. You’ll obviously fend him off (unless you just sucked down a rohypnol daiquiri). After an unrelently wave of bullshit, he gives up. This is where the tag team occurs. His mate then sidles up and actually plays the role of semi decent bloke. Of course, his semi decentness is magnified by 200% after his buddy just came off as a stroker (in fact, mate number 2 may end up looking like the second coming of prince charming). Anyway, the combination of alcohol and his perceived charm leads to you allowing him to carve you up. Win to the dodgey blokes!

Who says Chuck doesn’t help?

Cruises are like contiki tours used to be. Back in the day, you’d pack 6 pairs of knickers, set off for Europe, see a few sights, bang some smelly Europeans and smoke copious amounts of weed. It is what it is. In fact, in some dictionaries contiki is actually defined as ‘sex in multiple locations’. At least if you said you were going on a contiki tour, people automatically knew that you were sick of missionary position sex with your high school boyfriend and appreciated the fact that you needed to broaden your horizons. Cruises still attempt to exude an element of exoticness and mysticism when in reality all they are is a floating contiki tour – its false advertising.

A single woman on a cruise will never be viewed as an exotic adventurer. You’re a walking vagina with steak hanging off it.....and the lions, tigers, leopards, cheetahs, jackals, panthers and vultures are sculpting their hair in preparation for the feeding frenzy!

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Pure Hatred

Dear Chuck,

I recently moved in with my boyfriend. About a week into our cohabitation, he walked out of our ensuite obviously having poo’d. About 15 seconds later, the most aweful smell I have ever encountered swept through the room and I felt physically ill.  I left the room to go and sit in the garden assuming that perhaps it was last night’s meal or something. Since then the same has happened multiple times.

I have no idea how I should handle this situation



Dear Chloe,

The problem with writing an incredibly popular blog is that your words and thoughts reach a broader audience. This is good (one is able to help more people) and bad (one is able to piss more people off). Case in point, when Chuck mentioned that a couple should never marry before first boning. Of course this statement brought representatives from the Catholic Church banging on Chuck’s door asking for a retraction or at least some sort of acknowledgement that Chuck was a heathen and shouldn’t always be listened to.

While Chuck was raised a Catholic and is even considering naming his first born son Joseph Ratzinger or Pope Benedict for short, there are just some ideals that make too much sense to back off from. How on earth could you make a life commitment to a man or woman without determining whether or not you are sexually compatible?

You can’t, in Chuck’s esteemed opinion.

Following that line of thinking, how on earth could you possibly go forward into holy matrimony without living with your future spouse first?

You can’t. You know why? Because the last thing you want to do is make a life commitment to a dude, only to find out on day one of marriage and cohabitation that his insides are rotting and that he deposits the most heinous faeces into your toilet bowl on a daily (sometimes twice daily) basis. How the fuck could you accept and live with that stench offending your olfactory receptors?

So first things first. Congratulations, you’ve made the right decision by trying to live with each other. You now know one of your partner’s faults. The next decision is deciding whether or not you can live the rest of your life with the smell of shit dominating the inside of your home.

Before we go any further, it would probably be wise for Chuck to assist you in determining just how bad the dump smell is. For many women, the minute something ceases to smell like roses, it is deemed to be ‘stinky’. Now that you’re cohabitating, you need to re-sync your nose to a wide range of disgraceful odors including:

Ball stench - commonly found after a bloke has worked out. Never let it get on you’re fingers, it does not come off!

Foot odor – feet in leather shoes all day = foulness

Farts – Jesus, this should be an entire post on its own

Unwashed hair – most guys wash about once per week (if you’re lucky)

B.O – vile

Unclean clothes- even worse if the guy has B.O, it’s enough to make you gag

Once you’ve recalibrated your nostrils, we can determine just how bad your lover’s craps are. Human waste never smells good. But male poo takes it to another level. If your boyfriend enjoys meat and beer, there’s a strong chance that he’s dropping bowl staining dumps that make his eyes water. Unfortunately, there is a dookie that is one class above the bowl stainer - Chuck refers to these dumps as “pure hatred”. Every man has unleashed pure hatred on some poor unsuspecting toilet at some stage in their crapping career. However, for certain individuals, their modus operandi is pure hatred. They cant help themselves, their body just produces this toxic waste that infects the air around them and seems to put shit particles into the atmosphere, enabling unsuspecting folk around them to actually taste the dump. Pure hatred craps make the air thicker, making it feel like you need a machete to cut through the dense foul smelling climate.

If your partner is dropping pure hatred on you then you need to be concerned. These shits are so bad that Chuck believes they can affect your DNA - kind of like nuclear fall outs, the evil particles infiltrate your body and may result in birth defects or physical deformities. Of course, Chuck has no scientific evidence to back this up.

So how do you handle it?

There’s a high probability that your man’s diet is causing his turds to stink. Either that or he is really old (anytime an old dude walks into a public toilet, run for the hills, they breed pure hatred after the age of 60!). Chuck isn’t about to launch into a dietary post but would suggest taking a look at this website - http://www.smellypoop.com.

Chloe, if your man is laying festering wolf bait you clearly need to have a chat with him about it. It’s fucking up your life. Now it isn’t going to be easy suggesting to him that his sphincter may be rotting out, but unless you see yourself adapting to the smell, your life is going to be misery. You can tackle it head on or you can adopt his diet and hope that you start producing pure hatred and showcase for him what you have to put up with. Unfortunately, you’ll be the one walking around with the stink of evil clinging to your skin and clothes.

If he refuses to change his diet, he’s clearly a dick and you now know that you can never be with him long term. In fact, would there be a better break up line than: “I can’t be with you, your arsehole repulses me”?

If he does try to mix up his diet but his anus continues to be possessed by demonic turds then you’ll have to try a couple of other measures: 
  • Get two crappers and make him use the one as far away from you as possible. Most guys would be happy with their own toilet that they can leave the seat up or down in as they please and pile up magazines in. The biggest downfall to this is that you’ll probably give him the toilet furthest from your bedroom which is fine for you, but what about house guests who have to walk into your home and are greeted with the smell of fecal matter? Even worse, they have to use the man cave loo! Imagine how your mum will react the first time she needs to squirt at your place and her Chanel No 5 cannot mask the over-powering sulphur in the air. If your home only has one toilet – MOVE!
  • Courtesy flush. The key here is that the minute his first robust turd hits the bowl water he must flush. This quickly washes away the turd + water chemical reaction that facilitates the air pollution. As a training technique, equip him with a stopwatch and see how quickly he can spin and flush at first water contact.
  • Shitting in the shower. Yes this is a disgraceful act but desperate times call for desperate measures. The running water will deaden the smell and your toilet bowl will be stain free. God help the poor plumber should your shower drain ever get blocked though.
  • Encourage him to dump at work or visit his folks more often. Sure, its passing the buck and he’ll never get promoted or get any sort of inheritance but at least your nose hairs can grow back. 

Look Chloe, it’s a tough situation you’re in at the moment. Young lovers looking to share a life together, to nurture and grow. Its just a damn shame that the fertilizer you’re working with is turbo charged.

Upon reflection, perhaps our forefathers were onto something in the early 1900’s. Many would say that they were primitive and less refined, but you have to admit, in this situation, how appealing would an outdoor dunny be right about now?

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Tossed Salad

Dear Chuck,

I’ve been with my boyfriend for a number of years and he seems to have a real aversion to the hand jobs that I give him. I’ve had very little success in getting him to come and I get the distinct impression that he just doesn’t like my technique.

What can I do?


Dear Ramona

The old rusty trombone.

We haven’t had a hand shandy story at Reality Bytes since Jesus was a lad (is it bad to talk about whacking someone off and Jesus in the same sentence?? Chuck just called his local Church and was told that it’s no problem if the whackee and the whacker are married). This is a fantastic opportunity for Chuck to unload every euphemism for masturbating in his repertoire.

Chuck needs to be honest here, your technique is probably shabby. Look, it’s widely acknowledged that men are useless when it comes to clitoral stimulation which sometimes is a bit unfair when you consider that it’s pea sized and hidden away and 50% of men have fingers the width of chorizo sausages making manual dexterity fairly difficult. Just because the average male penis sticks out like dogs balls, doesn’t make operating the machinery any easier.

Now, Chuck needs to preface that last statement by saying that the man’s situation will often determine how likely he is to spurt. If a man and woman have been dating and have yet to have intercourse, then it is highly likely that a wristy will cause the spillage of his mans sauce (unless of course the woman’s technique resembles the act of punching someone).  If the man is under 23, manual stimulation will cause an eruption (with the speed of said eruption increasing as the age decreases – an 18 year old will dump his beans in 30 seconds flat!) If a couple have been together for some period of time – your situation Ramona, then it is highly likely that he doesn’t blow or enjoy it or both because he has tasted the honey of your other offerings.

A critical thing to consider in all of this is a man’s ‘Order of Sprog’.

“Order of Sprog?” Chuck hears you asking the co-worker in the cubicle next to you.

Yes, the Order of Sprog.

Quite simply, this is the ranked preferences a man has for getting a shot of. For the sake of this argument, Chuck is going to use the normal distribution bell curve, where the mean “preferred ways to ejaculate” tends to cluster around “vagina”. In layman’s terms, Chuck is talking about ‘normal’ blokes. Since we are discussing a woman flogging her boyfriend’s trouser snake, Chuck will be considering heterosexual males in this stunning example of higher level thinking.

Right, so for most normal blokes the Order of Sprog is as follows

1)    Vagina
2)    Mouth
3)    Partners Hand
4)    Own Hand

*Important note – anus trumps all on the list but no normal bloke gets it regularly enough for it to be considered. Its very much like Christmas – everyone loves Christmas.

* Another important note – there is a significant gap between point 2 and point 3

* One more important note – point 3 & 4 may be interchangeable. Sometimes having a quick wank is a much preferable option to the rigamorole and RSI that results from a salad tossing (when the girl does it). On top of that, every bloke hopes to Christ that the female will get incredibly aroused from the act of stroking his man sausage and will insist upon intercourse -Invariably there is an element of disappointment to having a load done by hand. At least tossing yourself off meets all of your expectations.

Since you have been dating your boyfriend for a few years, Chuck’s assuming that you’ve had sex. One quick glance at the above list will indicate that his preference is your Va Jay Jay closely followed by your mouth. Now if you’d never had sex but had swallowed his manhood before, then he would eschew your hand for your mouth. Your problem is that you’ve given up the magic and now cheapened the rest of your act.

Oh and probably your technique is rotten.

Fortunately, Chuck isn’t one to criticise your style without providing some coaching to assist you in taking it to the next level. It is important to remember that every guy has something that works for him, so Chuck’ll give you some basic principles and you can add some twists once you’ve refined your game.

Chuck has done exhaustive research on the topic and found a 10 step guide that is sure to have your man spurting each and every time. Oddly enough, Chuck found these steps at eHow.com. After typing in “how to wank off a bloke” with no luck, Chuck got radical and tried “How to milk a cow”, low and behold there was a simple guide that parallels the art of turning a blokes crank shaft (Chucks comments in red): 
  1. Milk at the same time daily. In a man’s perfect world
  2. Sit on the same side of the cow each day. This will help your cow feel more comfortable - cows like routine. Chuck concurs, comfort is important and men like a routine
  3. Place cow in a stanchion if this makes you feel more at ease. If your cow is an old hand at being milked, this probably won't be necessary. Ask the farmer you purchased her from what her routine was with the farmer. True, communication is imperative
  4. Place stool at a right angle to the cow and sit with your head resting on her flank. Or your mans balls
  5. Wash udder with warm water and clean cloth. Mmmmm The thought of a warm, moist towel on Chuck’s cack ‘n’ balls is enough to get the blood flowing
  6. Place pail under teats. Or tissues
  7. Take a teat into the palm of your hand. Although dexterity and fine motors skills will be better if you use your fingers
  8. Squeeze teat at top with thumb and forefinger. Continue squeezing each finger around teat, forcing milk in a stream until all fingers are around teat. The teat (or head) is the most sensitive part. The shaft is for show only, it does nothing, focus on the teat!
  9. Release teat. The on off pressure is the key, work it girl!
  10. Repeat until only a small amount of milk comes out and the udder is soft to the touch. Preferably you’d want a lot of man milk to come out. Stop once he goes soft.

See how easy Chuck makes your life?  Those 10 steps will take your sex life to the next level. Now get moooooving.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Landing on your knees

Chuck’s detailed and intricate diary entries describe Madame Boodwah’s disappearance from the airwaves and her time at a leading sanatorium.

(Chuck promises this thing will be finished today – 1500 word limit be damned!)

I was still reeling from Madame Boodwah’s revelation that Dr Clark had sexually assaulted her while she was supposedly under hypnosis when Madame Boodwah launched back into her tale.

“Dr Clark thought it would be prudent to increase the frequency of our one-on-one sessions in order to facilitate faster healing”

“In other words he fancied touching you up more often,” I said.

“Chuck, please let me continue.” Madame Boodwah calmly replied.

I slunk back into my chair.

“The next session we started the usual therapy stuff and then he suggested hypnosis. Again, it didn’t work at all but I played dead. Again within ten minutes his stinking foulness for breath was on my neck and again he started pawing at me. What was different this time is that he started having a conversation with me…”

I couldn’t help myself, “maybe he’s into necrophilia and just hasn’t gotten up the nerve to kill anyone yet”

Madame Boodwah shot me one of her ‘looks’.

Madame Boodwah sipped her champagne and continued “he started saying how he had desired me the moment he laid eyes on me and over the last couple of weeks he’d really fallen for me. It was very sweet and sad at the same time”.

“You’re shitting me” I deadpanned.

“Well the chap was clearly lonely and hadn’t had much luck in love,” Madame Boodwah replied.

“Yeah and he is also a fucking sexual predator taking advantage of his patient!” I exclaimed.

“Oh Chuck, you are such a drama queen” Madame Boodwah chuckled. “So he spent the rest of the session talking about his desire for me in between groping my breasts”

“Did he try for some digital penetration?’ I inquired.

“No, actually he was very gentlemanly about his sexual assault” said Madame Boodwah.

“What a keeper. So anyway how long did all this sexual hypnosis go on for and what was with the zombie state you fell into whenever he put his hands in his pockets?” I asked.

“Oh yes, that was interesting wasn’t it? The hypno assaults went on for the next 2 weeks, we ended up doing daily sessions. He never tried to have sex with me during these sessions although judging by how flushed he was when he brought me out of the faux hypnosis, there is a strong chance that he may have been giving himself a bit of a tug in my presence,” continued Madame Boodwah.

I felt somewhat nauseous.

“In my mind I was already healed by this stage so I was taking the time to reinvigorate my figure and physical wellbeing. The result of that activity was that I was drawing a lot of attention from the other males in the facility,” Madame Boodwah offered.

“Well they were all probably hoping that you would gum their plums again” I quipped.

“This attention from the other men in the sanatorium obviously drove Dr Clark mad and anytime I spoke with any of the male suitors, he would quickly appear and tell me that it indicated a setback in my treatment and that my stay would have to be extended to 6 months,” Madame Boodwah shook her head forlornly at the thought

“So he had you trapped in there?” I offered.

“Yes, very much so. During our one-on-one sessions, he would start off the hypnosis with a solid boob pawing stint, then spend the remainder of the time trying to program me. He used one of those novelty clickers you see in showbags. Anytime he clicked on it, I was to automatically fall into my hypnotic state. That was the hardest part of the whole charade I must admit Chuck, listening for that godforsaken clicker and then falling into a stupor. Fortunately, he always had to rummage in his pants to find it so I often knew it was coming and he typically clicked it anytime I spoke with a male so I was able to prepare myself. “

I shook my head in amazement at Boodwah’s ability to dupe this so called professional. She continued:
“I knew that I was stuck in the place and that Dr Clark wasn’t ever going to let me out. Fortunately he played his hand and mentioned how he wanted to make me his bride. He then started on some stupid hypnosis program, attempting to make me fall in love with him. That was hilarious and I almost chewed my tongue off trying not to laugh at some of the lame stuff he was coming up with”

“Like what” I quizzed.

“That I would be attracted to his male pattern baldness, that his voice would trigger intense emotional responses, that every time he mentioned certain words I would swoon...”

“NO WAY!” I interjected.

Madame Boodwah sipped from her champagne again, “Over the next week or so he would drop his terrible lines around me and I pretended to fawn over him. I really think I had him sold, it was one of my greatest performances ever Chuck.  He started buying me gifts that he would say were rewards for my fast track rehabilitation. A painting, a straw hat, even an IPod! Anyway I knew that he couldn’t marry one of his current patients so I figured that I could love him up so much that he would have to discharge me before asking me to marry him. I thought about doing a runner the minute he gave me my discharge papers, but then I figured that he owed me for the free breast groping he had received.”

“There have been many better men than Dr Clark who have paid a lot more to cop a feel of your tits” I stated.

Once again Madame Boodwah frowned at me.

“He kept his hypnosis going and must have been kicking himself that he couldn’t publish his results as I now appeared to be totally smitten with him at all times. Plus anytime another bloke ventured near, he clicked that infernal clicker and I switched to dead Boodwah walking.”

“I’m not sure there is much of a market for research studies conducted by sexual predators in the mainstream science world” I replied.

“No, you’re right” Madame Boodwah agreed, “Anyway, he must have felt fairly comfortable because one Thursday morning in his office he said that my treatment had come along so well that he was discharging me immediately. He then said that I was by far his favourite patient and that perhaps we should take a walk along the beach to reflect on my treatment. I knew the proposal was coming and I had to play this well. We got to the beach and after a while he dropped to his knee and asked me to marry him. He pulled out a ring that quite frankly I would be embarrassed to be seen in public with and slid it on my finger. I feigned excitement and said yes.”

“Even though I was faking this whole thing, there was no way I was settling for a $5000 ring so I pushed him onto a sand dune and after passionately fake kissing him I suggested that a woman of Madame Boodwah’s stature deserved a ring of equal value”

“How did he respond to that?” I asked.

“Well he said that it was his late mothers ring” Boodwah replied nonchalantly.

“Ooooh” I cringed.

“Fuck his dead mother” Madame Boodwah spat, he wasn’t groping her titties was he?

“Lets not put it past him” I retorted.

“Fair point” Madame Boodwah agreed. “By now I had him hooked and he agreed. I told him that we were going somewhere very special and that he would be expected to spare no expense on his bride to be. On Australia Day I pulled some strings with an old connection and had Tiffany’s opened so that we could go in and choose a ring together. Of course I skipped immediately to the highest of the high end section and picked out the sparkler you saw me sporting that evening.

“It was a fucking rock” I exclaimed.

“You bet it was and it caused his sphincter to pucker up paying for it” Madame Boodwah said with satisfaction dripping from her lips. She continued, ‘”following the night we saw you, we left for Vegas in order to get married.”

“Hang on, had you boned this guy yet?” I asked out of morbid curiosity.

“Of course not Chuck, my sexual addiction was the best excuse that I could have possibly asked for. I was selling myself as a born again virgin waiting for my wedding night. Hence his haste to get to Vegas and get the marriage officially on the books” Madame Boodwah stated confidently.

I nodded in appreciation of her cunning.

Madame Boodwah continued, “So we were in Las Vegas and I said that I wanted to observe tradition and spend the evening apart. I used my time wisely to run a number of errands that would prove to be useful in the coming 24 hours”

“Like what? You didn’t kill him did you? I asked.

“What do you think is in that travel case” Madame Boodwah said pointing to the particularly heavy one.

I shot out of my seat.

“Relax darling, I’m playing with you” Madame Boodwah said reassuringly.

I sat back down.

“We arrived at the chapel, went through the ceremony and were married. Since Clark may have never had unpaid sexual intercourse before, he was very keen to get back to the suite and have his first taste of Madame Boodwah. I milked the event for all it was worth, insisting that he purchase champagne, order caviar…”

“So you made him order your standard lunch” I quipped.

Boodwah ignored my awesome sense of humour and continued, “So the time came and I seductively waved him onto the bed as I lay in my $650 negligee that his credit card had purchased the day before. Just as I was able to register his vile breath and as he planned to dive bomb my naked breasts with his face, I reached under the pillows and pulled out a neatly typed sheet of paper indicating my wish to seek a divorce on the grounds of irreconcilable differences. This was like a punch to his jaw and I took particular delight as confusion swirled in his eyes.”

“Once he regained his composure, he scrambled for his pants and started clicking his little clicker at a rate of knots. I sat up, smiled broadly while letting my perky breast hang in his line of sight and informed him that I was in on his ruse the whole way along and that he was now about to pay the piper. He tried to say that he had done nothing wrong but I reached for my breast, squeezed it in his awkward style and recited some of his stinky breathed terms of endearment.”

He knew that his goose was cooked and immediately retorted that it could never be proved and that he’d just have the marriage annulled. At that, I reached under the pillow and pulled out the IPod that he had so thoughtfully gifted to me. How fortunate that the new models allow you to voice record. I flipped it on and we both listened to one of his full hypnosis sessions, including his love rantings, heavy breathing and a distant rustling sound that could very well have been him rubbing one out.”

“Like a cornered animal Clark looked set to pounce, so I swung my leg over the bed, making sure to flash some upper thigh, walked directly to him and punched him in the face. I then said that I would kick his arse if he even thought about any sort of physical assault on my person. He’d well and truly had his fill of assault. I handed him the document and allowed him to read it. He recoiled in horror when it got to the part about retaining ownership of 50% of his assets as well as spousal support of $3000 per month until I die or remarry …..and I get to keep the ring”.

“He hesitated to sign the document until I waved the IPod and mentioned that I could hear his career fading away. He quickly signed as I gathered up my belongings and got back into my wedding cocktail dress. I carefully grabbed the paperwork and let myself out as I clicked my tongue like his little clicker. All in all I made out with about $650k in assets (including the ring), plus another 36 grand a year for forever!”

“Or until you get married” I said facetiously, “Remind me never to fuck with you!”

Boodwah straightened, “Well I think 650 grand almost covers what he did to me. The trip through France on the way back definitely helped the heeling.”

I shook my head in disbelief at my friend’s strength and determination, “Yeah, but what stops this prick from doing this again?” I asked.

Madame Boodwah smiled broadly, “Chuck, darling, surely with a story this interesting, you’d be able to find a popular little blog that it could be told on…..”