It's been a long time, hasn't it?  Now you are planning your big moment with your new wife, just a few short weeks after your union via satellite.  Just because she started writing you unsolicited after hearing the brutal nature of your crimes, it doesn't mean it isn't true love.  In fact, if you were still out on the streets you could imagine yourself with this pale, overweight, myopic, anxiety-prone, needy, submissive, annoying, introverted shut-in.  To set the mood we offer this brief tutorial on making that hasty courtship the best two hours of her life.

A.

  This will take some advance preparation, but is an essential step in making your mind willing to copulate with someone hideous in a fully lit and heavily monitored shack owned by the State of California.  Making pruno is easy if you have some fruit, yeast, and a bag to ferment it in.  And what more romantic way to begin the interlude than with some athletic sock-filtered prison wine?  If she seems squeamish just refer to the pruno as "artisanal wine", and she will feel more open to the experience.  Make a batch two weeks before the visit, and make sure to slip a few bucks to the staff to turn a blind eye.

B.

  After the deed is done, you should have about 1:55mins remaining in your two hour visit.  Bring a hand rolled cigarette made of only the finest nicotine-soaked discarded butts.  They make the most satisfying smoke, and put a traditional finish on an otherwise unconventional rendezvous.

C.

  The all-important radio.  Nothing sets the mood like some proper lovemaking music.  Make sure the model you bring has a digital clock on it.  Those pricks that run the place deliberately leave clocks out of the area, in hopes they can barge in and ruin any marathon sessions.  Choose your station in advance, and choose something SHE will like.  You may have to work through some country music ballads here.

D.

  Procure a prophylactic, preferably unused.  But any condom can be revived by running it under a faucet for a little while.  You can bet that she "forgot" to bring a rubber.  She knows that physical contact comes only once in a while, and she will use deception to force you into fathering a child to end her life-long loneliness.  Circumvent her efforts with this tactic.  And if she is obese enough you might be able to put it on and take it off without her ever seeing it, just keep her gut between your cock and her face at all times.

E.

  You may need to rely on your partner to sneak this one in, but luckily it comes in an incredibly easy to conceal shape!  The dildo could serve to finish off your partner after you climax and lose interest, or to satisfy your new affinity for pegging, as is common with long term prisoners.  Just remember the unspoken rule of the conjugal visit room:  whatever is smuggled in MUST be smuggled out.  Bring all the gear you desire, but leave only DNA.

We all know it is bound to happen some day, maybe ten thousand years from now, maybe even a million or two.  But if we are all lucky it might happen within our lifetime!  This guide is a quick reference to surviving the apocalypse.  Whether it be catastrophic meteor impact, widespread disease and famine, or global warfare, these tips are invaluable.  .This could even work for a zombie outbreak, or something less likely such as the rapture.  So sit back and absorb the knowledge.  It might save your life one day.

Firstly, regardless of the cause of the mass extinction you are going to need the big three:  Food and water, shelter, and defense.  Remember to keep an eye out for renewable food an water when scavenging, since a sure thing prairie dog hunt beats a single gourmet meal in the long run. 

One clever way to recycle urine into a small scale renewable water source is accomplished in any warm or hot climate.  Gather some plastic sheeting (a trash bag will do, the darker colored, the better!) and a small cup or can to gather the payload.  Simply dig a hole, piss in it and place the can in the dead center of the hole.  By stretching the plastic over the hole and placing a small stone in the center you can guide the resulting condensation to an apex, causing the pure water to drip into the container.  Don't be shy, after all, Gandhi drank his own urine everyday!

Got urine?

Recycling solid waste is a more difficult and less appetizing proposition, but will make perfect sense when times are desperate enough.  One little known fact is that human feces is rich in nutrients that are improperly or incompletely digested in the body, and can sustain life in a starvation situation.  The living fauna component of the waste is both dangerous, and a nice nutritional bonus to the vegetable and meat makeup of most colon material.  To make the emergency rations safe to eat simply boil the feces to kill all living parasites and bacteria.  Season liberally, for obvious reasons.

Strain through cheesecloth after boiling

When it comes to shelter in the apocalyptic landscape of terror and misfortune, survivors will be confronted with a plethora of available real estate for the taking.  Before occupying the nearest mansion in your city you should take a few things into consideration.  First you will want to be near a food and water source, since you won't want to be dining on your feces quite yet.  And choose something strong and impenetrable, considering human invasion as well as other environmental forces that could expose you to certain death.  Avoid a rookie mistake:  Cinderblocks seem to make a great fortress, but one man with a sledgehammer can end it all.

Being prepared for the apocalypse also means becoming a gun owner.  No matter how you feel about them politically, you are going to want one when shit goes down.  A .22 rifle is probably the single best choice, since you carry more ammo than any other weapon.  But it doesn't end there.  You are going to need some hand to hand weaponry and tools.  Make your next paycheck a shopping spree at the hardware store.  The essentials are a hatchet and axe, machete, three foot heavy chain with padlock, and a crowbar.  Bring lots of cash, because you will be inspired by the variety.

Preparedness can be sexy!

So take this advice to heart, dear reader, and I will see you at EDEN 2.  I will be the fat guy doing all the fornicating... er, I mean repopulating.

Father Dunson Gramalazzo

Hey everybody, we still doing this thing?  I thought we were taking football season off from church, like we have since the season started.  You were all here the last 2 weeks?  .... Oh Shit.  Sorry folks, I forgot to tell you about that idea didn't I? 

Well, let's take a vote.  All in favor of leaving now and watching some football, raise your hands.  All in favor of doing the normal boring Catholic thing, raise your hands.  Really!?  Come on folks, I've got a few bills riding on Michael Vick. 

Fine, fine!!  Calm down Mrs. Rashton, you will not go to hell for not going to church, whoever told you that is full of shit.. . . . .  Bishop Donnely told you that?  Well, if anyone asks, it didn't come from me but, Bishop Donnely enjoys the company of men a little too much, if you know what I am saying...?  No?  Well how about, he likes to lay his healing hands on wayward lads a little too aggressively...?   Still not getting it huh?   He's a Dick-Taster!  . . . . . . . . Whaaat?!  Whaaaat!?     You people have not fucking sense of humor.

As you can see, the pink-eye is still sticking around, and now I have this lovely cold sore.  I would advise against handshakes on the way out of here today.  I have been touching my face a lot.  The doctor says I might have some rare case of Pink-Eye, some new strain or something.  The Lord sure can be a prick in mysterious ways.

Let's see here.  Have I ever told you folks the one about David and Delilah?  No smart ass, not Samson and Delilah, no not David and Goliath!   Are you people even fucking listening to me?  David and Delilah!

It was a few years after Delilah did that whole "hair cut murder plot" and she was still swimming in Philistine riches for her work.  She opened several successful brothels and was quickly cornering the skin-trade market.  She would have been fine if not for her secret addiction.  Since her adventure with Samson, she has developed a serious hair fetish.

But when you are the richest Madame in Sorek Valley, hair is easy to obtain.  Delilah has a sprawling palatial estate with many rooms.  One of the rooms is well hidden and well locked.  Inside of the windowless stone room is heap after heap of human hair.  She spends her evening balled up, sleeping in the human rats nest.

She thought she had everything she could ever want.  That was until she saw David, David and his giant's head.  Several years earlier, David had killed Goliath with a single rock hurled from a sling.  Ever since then, the diminutive David has carried his gristly prize with him everywhere.  He carries Goliath's head by it's hair.  The head is very well preserved.  The scalp of the giant's head is still filled with thick, luscious, giant Philistine hair.  David loved it, it was a great ice breaker at parties.

David decided to wander through Sorek valley and see the sites.  With his giant, decapitated head slung over his shoulder by the hair, David strode confidently down the street.  Not a single person has been brave enough to start shit with David since the whole "giant killing" business, so David was surprised to find himself knocked to the ground, his trophy ripped from his hands.

David rolled over in the dust to face his attacker.  He was shocked to find a well dressed woman clutching Goliath's head and breathing deeply on it's scalp.  "Ma'am that is my decapitated head!  I demand that you give it back this instant!" shouted David.

"Or what?"  Cackled Delilah. 

"Bitch, do you know who I am?!" Retorted David.

"Some asshole who is too much of a pussy to hold onto such a lovely head of hair."  Cooed Delilah.

"I am warning you Ma'am.  Don't make me use force"  David's hand reached for his belt, where he removed his sling.  David's other hand went to his pouch where he retrieved a stone.  "I can kill you with a single sto-" 

Before David could finish his sentence, Delilah swung Goliaths head by the hair and brutally connected with the side of David's head.  It literally sounded like two coconuts being smashed together. 

Delilah stood over the unconscious David and spit directly into his gaping mouth.  "I've taken down men bigger than you."  Delilah took another deep snort through her sinuses and again, hocked into the unconscious David's mouth.

Delilah joyfully skipped home and spent the next few nights locked inside of her hair room.  She mounted Goliath's head on a pole so it is easier to brush the hair.  She now knows for a fact that Goliath is a better kisser than Samson.  Samson always put too much tongue into it.  Goliath is more ....... demure.

What about David??   Well, David eventually woke up with all of his clothing having been stolen.  He cried a little bit and shambled home without his prized human head.  He lived the rest of his life, sad and wanting.  Well, that's it!  I hope you folks enjoyed that tale.

What's the moral of the story??  Well, um. . . .   How about...

Don't know what you got till it's gone

Don't know what it is I did so wrong

Now I know what I got

It's just this song

And it ain't easy to get back

Takes so long

Now are you all still sure that you want to meet next week?  Why don't we all meet at the stadium and we can tailgate a service?  Come on!!   You people are no fucking fun.  It's because of you that Catholicism is fucking dying. 

*AMEN*

Deep, deep down at the bottom of the ocean is a magical place called Seahorse Valley.  In Seahorse Valley lives hundreds of happy seahorses.  The seahorses spend their seahorsey days swimming, laughing, singing and playing in the ocean currents.  The song  of the seahorses is quite intoxicating, once you hear them singing and laughing you can't help but feel happy.

All the creatures of the sea love to visit the seahorses.  The joyous sounds can calm the most aggressive sharks and could make the grumpiest urchin smile warmly.  Seahorse Valley is the safest place in the entire ocean.

Every predatory instinct is extinguished in the presence of the beautiful seahorse sounds.  Seals and sharks swim paw in fin, clams use otter bellies as fuzzy undersea pillows, swarms of krill playfully tickle whales.  Every animal is smiling in it's own way.

Seahorse Valley is ruled by a kindly King,  King Waterspout.  King Waterspout is a stout and happy seahorse king gifted with the most melodious voice in the entire ocean.  Every year, thousands of creatures gather to listen to the King sing on his royal birthday.

This year is no different.  The aquatic critters gather in the valley outside of the seahorse palace.  Actually, this year is different.  King Waterspout is about to announce his retirement and hand his crown to his son, Basil.

Like all the others, Basil is a happy seahorse.  Except Basil holds a dark secret.  Basil has Tourette Syndrome.  He normally has it under control but stressful situations make him lose his concentration and he could blurt out words unintentionally.  Unbeknownst to himself, Basil is about to become king.

The King's birthday is always an easy day for Basil.  He never has anything to worry about.  He just has to sit back, snack on delicious snacks and observe the happy animals watching his father preform.  

Basil sits on a comfortable cushion and watches his father walk out onto the royal balcony.  "My friends," says the King.  "Thank you all for joining us once again to help us celebrate my birthday."  The crowd erupts into joyous applause.  "But I have to announce that I will not be singing this year."  The crowd gasps audibly.  "I am getting old and it is time for me to step down as King."

As realization hit Basil's brain, his eyes shoot from the hor dourves to his father in an instant of panic.  Basil grumbles under his breath

*titty cunt pussy balls

*

and puts his fin over his mouth.

His father continues, "But fret not my friends, for the NEW KING has a wonderful singing voice."  

Which is true, Basil has one of the most gorgeous seahorse voices in generations.  But Basil has never sang before a crowd before, only for his family and friends.  He has controlled his Tourettes so well over the years that his father must have forgotten. 

*shitty titty testicle torture

*

.

The King's voice rises in volume.  "I present to you, the new King of Seahorse Valley, my son, King Basil the 1st!!"  The sound of thousands of pairs of fins, paws, claws and shells clapping is deafening.

Basil stands, mouth agape for several seconds.  Gaining control of his fins he propels himself the the front of the balcony, urinating slightly.

"I am so proud of you" the king whispers to Basil.  "Take it away, your Majesty"  

Trembling and unprepared, Basil faces the crowd and surveys his kingdom.  He breaths deeply several times and begins singing "The Lobster's Tulip".  

The miraculous sound of Basil's voice sweeps over the valley.  Every animal sways in unison to the beautiful song.  As Basil approaches the crescendo of the song a familiar feeling starts happening in the back of his brain.  "oh no, not now" thinks Basil.  

His voice rises to an incredibly high pitch but instead of the next lyric of the song concerning the lost and once again found lover of a lobster, a slew of the foulest profanity ever uttered is sung at high volume.

*Hairy pussy tits slimy stinking cunt cunt cunt hamburger enema asshole fist fucker shit eater ball biting poon-swaggler eat my dick eat my horsey dickhole cock sucker*

The magic spell of the valley is shattered. The elder king topples over backwards, dead.  The crowd, silent for several seconds, explodes with screams.  Every predator lashes out in every direction, snapping and biting any creature unlucky enough to be within jaw-reach.  Crabs jump on starfish and clip off legs, sea turtles vomit and convulse, eels force entry into any available animal orifice, clown fish float toward the surface dead from shock and the seahorses weep.

Moments later, the water muted dark red, the only animals left in the valley are the dead and dying.  Basil untouched by the carnage stands alone on the balcony.  

Basil lives alone in the shattered palace for the rest of his days.  A king of a dead kingdom.  Some say that if you listen carefully on a full moon, you can still hear Basil swearing.

*Shitty tits*

All Hail King Basil the 1st

Dr. Pu Pong

Pu Pong the Panda leaned his big panda back against the cold cement wall.

Pu Pong had a lot of time to think, so thought to himself "Life is. . . . . Moderately adequate." And it was!

Pu Pong had all the bamboo he could eat, there are people that clean up his poop and he is occasionally introduced to terrified panda women for awkward, panicked intercourse.

Life was moderately adequate.

Pu Pong never really had any other ambitions than eating bamboo, forced mating and pooping.

It was all he knew.

When he was in the outdoors portion of his enclosure, he was watched by dozens of humans.

Pu Pong liked the laughing children best, their smiling faces warmed Pu Pong's heart.

Pu Pong was born in a zoo just like his mother.

Pu Pong did not get to spend too much time with his mom.

Which was fine, she probably would have eaten Pu Pong anyway.

Living his whole life in the zoo, he never imagined the possibilities that existed for an eager panda in the outside world.

One day a new zookeeper started working in the Pu Pong's enclosure, cleaning his poop and keeping his bamboo pile overflowing.

This person brought a small television and set it up in the "employees only" portion of Panda exhibit.

Pu Pong had never seen a television before, its bright colors and sounds dazzled him.

Pu Pong would spend hours watching show after show through the bars of his cage.

The zookeeper saw that Pu Pong loved watching television and started leaving it on at night for him.

The more television that Pu Pong watched the more he understood.

He started to see the pictures better.

At first what were multi-colored blobs, started to become recognizable shapes.

He could see that there were pictures of humans inside the TV and the noises were human speak.

Pu Pong understood a little bit of human speak.

Pu Pong spent night after night, watching and learning.

He learned about so many things; firemen, the ocean, dogs, foot-long sandwiches, Miss Marple, cartoons, World War II and he loved all of it.

Pu Pong was no longer Moderately Adequate, he was depressed.

"All these wonderful things exist in the world and all I get is enslavement in cement walls being gawked at by humans." thought Pu Pong.

"The whole world is just waiting for me!

" 

Pu Pong decided to not let his bitter, caged existence limit his career choices.

Pu Pong's favorite television show was about a daring pediatrician who saves children by day and solves crimes by night.

He would watch the show every evening.

After several months of watching, Pu Pong decided that he was ready.

He decided that he was now a Panda Pediatrician.

He would help children in need with his surgeon's skill and detective's wit.

If only he could get his paws on a child in need.

Pu Pong started spending a lot more time in the outdoor portion of his enclosure.

There were always children watching from above his cement wall during the day.

He would wave at them and invite them to come down into his enclosure.

The children would just laugh and point.

Pu Pong assumed that all of these children must not be ill and that is why they are not accepting his offers of free pediatric care.

One fine day, Pu Pong was eating some bamboo, when sick child jumped into Pu Pong's enclosure.

"Oh Joy!" thought Pu Pong "A patient!"

The people above started screaming.

"The people are panicking, the boy must be very sick!"

Pu Pong rushed forward and scooped the young boy into his cuddly panda arms.

The child screamed and began to struggle.

"I estimate the child to be about 11 years old in age, his flailing leads me to believe that the child is suffering from seizures.

I must make sure that the boy does not swallow his tongue.

The Doctor is in!"

The boy froze when a large, hairy, mildly poo covered panda paw forced its way into his mouth.

Pu Pong gently rocked the boy back and forth.

"I did it!

I have cured you of your epilepsy." thought Pu Pong "Nice work Dr. Pu Pong.

  I better make sure the boy was not injured in the fall"  With his sharp teeth and claws, Pu Pong ripped all of the clothing off of the terrified boy and carefully inspected him.  "Just a few scrapes, you'll be fine lad." 

Pu Pong dragged the shocked, naked boy to the doorway leading to indoor portion of his enclosure.

"No need to thank me boy, your good health is payment enough."

Several zookeepers entered brandishing tranquilizer guns.

"No need for those gentleman, the boy is calm and healthy and no longer a public threat."

The zookeepers carefully removed the stunned boy from the enclosure.

The people above broke into applause.

"Applause is not necessary, I'm just doing my job." thought Pu Pong "Who's the next child in need of my pediatric miracles?"

Pu Pong laid back against the cement wall waiting for his next patient to tumble into his cage, content.