equal-opportunity gold digging, a guide for men

Barbara Hutton and Baron von Cramm 

It occurs to us here at the ol’ raincoaster blog that the ancient art of gold digging is confined, in these sadly decadent modern times, almost exclusively to the fairer sex.

This is unfair.

Obviously smelly, hairy, balding guys with uncertain bowel control deserve cynical marriages of convenience as much as lithe, buxom teenage blondes do, but how to achieve gold digging parity in an uncaring world?

Never fear, gentlemen: we at the ol’ raincoaster blog have a solution. Simply implement the following steps in order and watch the millions roll your way.

  1. Barbara Hutton, setting the world on fire and vice versaGive women a lot of money. It doesn’t matter where you get it from, but get it and give it to them across the board. Until there are rich women there is no point in attempting to gold-dig them. We suggest starting by paying and promoting your employees using criteria other than gender. We also suggest personal donations, when appropriate (you have my banking details, don’t you? I gave them to that Nigerian guy…). Change property and inheritance laws so that the loot is divided on the basis of relation, not gonads. Vote for women, because everyone knows politicians never retire poor.
  2. Wait till the crop of solvent women produced by the above innovations reaches, and passes, maturity. Wait till they start to remind you of Bea Arthur in Maude; that is the earliest point at which most women will become ripe for gold-digging. They need to have outlived their estrogen, but don’t wait till they’ve outlived most of their contemporaries as well. No sense overdoing things.
  3. You want someone whose ancient passport picture looks something like this,Barbara Hutton in about 846BC ie Belle of New Orleans at the Time of the Louisiana Purchase. If nothing else, it means her granddaughters might be worth pursuing on a recreational level. People who don’t know your age will assume you fell in love with her when she looked like that; people who can tell your age should be told you met in an internet chat room, and that she tends to deny it if asked out of embarassment.
  4. The way to succeed at gold-digging is the same as the way to succeed at any endeavour: Practice, practice, practice. You’ll need to be able to whisper endearments at intimate moments without getting her name wrong, among other critical skills. This is the secret behind the eternal popularity of monogrammed pillowcases, btw. I bet you wondered. But anyway, you will need, at some point, to go to bed with the object of your … intentions. Yes, you will need to bonk the Bea, to gamahuche the granny, to roger the retiree, to sex up the sexagenarian. You’re going to have to put it in and keep it there. Don’t worry, we’ve thought of everything. Use this handy-dandy item to practice until you can complete the act without a Carmen Electra poster hanging over the bed; it is extremely unlikely that the woman you’re attempting to gold-dig will allow a Carmen Electra poster to be placed over the bed, unless she is very unconventional indeed, or, indeed, Joan Jett.
  5. Keep your figure till after the wedding, and yes, there must be a wedding: remember, living in sin cuts you out of all those silver, gold, and Wii anniversary gift-getting occasions.
  6. Don’t neglect those little touches that mean so much: encouraging her love of fast cars with enormous blind spots, lighting her cigarette, cigar, or crack pipe (see if you can get her to work her way up), putting the coke dealer on speed dial, thoughtfully buying her skydiving lessons for her 80th birthday, or teasing her that she is too chicken to stand on the cliff’s edge and close her eyes.

Just don’t let Howard Stern mix your drinks.

Unless I’m in your will.

And so they were married...over Zsa Zsa's dead body!

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Donnie Davies confronts Joey Oglesby: what MTV doesn’t want you to see!

Headbutts by angry gay midget tag teams? HeteroFuel supplements? Ladies and gentlemen, this has gone too far.

Here is the raw video of Donnie Davies’ appearance on MTV and the confrontation with Joey Oglesby, the rumoured imposter. It includes shocking footage the network has tried to suppress.

At the time of this post, there had been only four views of this video; don’t let this go the way of God Hates a Fag. Paste it in your blogs, in your websites, play it in your iPods and on your campus television stations. UPDATE: Ooopsie, too late. UPDATED UPDATE: It’s back for the moment, and re-installed.

Watch this video of Todd Quillen defending himself against charges he’s Donnie Davies instead:

and this video investigation by some Web mythbusters, which includes the shocking footage of Joey Oglesby from the video which has been removed.

And for those of you who say I’m taking this too seriously, you need to back off; I was born this way, I can’t help myself sometimes.

We all just need to back up Donnie Davies and lend him a hand.

Fruity!

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not gay? Can’t stay!

True Patriot Land 

Canada tells a Nicaraguan teenager that because he hasn’t fucked any Americans, his refugee claim is rejected and he must return to his homeland.

Now, I don’t know about you

But if that is what it takes to stay in this country I may as well start packing.

I mean, sure, if you’re planning to live on Denman Street, fine, test for gayness. But I don’t think bonking one particular kind of foreigner should be a requirement for Canadian residency status, any more than a criminal record should be mandatory if you’re emigrating to Australia.

From the CBC:

Board adjudicator Deborah Lamont, who heard the case from Calgary via video conference, questioned whether Orozco was homosexual because he wasn’t sexually active while in the U.S.

“You’ve got a kid who’s run away from home because he’s had the crap beaten out of him by his dad because he’s different, because he looks gay, because he doesn’t behave like the other boys or his brothers, gets help from Catholic churches and then from a Seventh Day Adventist Church,” said Khaki.

“He’s 19 years old at the time of the hearing and the board wonders why he hasn’t been sexually active? [That’s] a bit problematic for me,” said Khaki.

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Q&A with John Waters

John Waters Merry Christmas! 

Nowadays there are very few good sides to Nerve.com, but one that remains is the barefaced outspokenness of their content. I can’t think of another media outlet that would allow their readers to interview John Waters and run the answers unexpurgated.

While Waters doesn’t seem to be in his best, most overcaffeinated and loopy form here, it’s nonetheless amusing and never less than honest. Want to know what freaks out the freakmaster? Read on…Here’s a sample.

“What is the most filthy, vile, and disgusting thing you’ve personally ever heard of or thought of? Does the wide availability of subversive information on the internet play a role in this?”
Well, I think that’s where I heard about blossoms, which I found especially repellant. Which is where men — well, I guess women, but I’ve only found men — have been fist-fucked so much that their anuses are outside of their ass, like a cauliflower. And they compare who has the biggest blossom. I found that fairly appalling.
Jesus Christ.
[laughs] I don’t think that’s been topped. I’ve heard about “ultimate nudity,” which I don’t know is real or not; some men, probably in Los Angeles, where it would seem to be more appropriate, have the skin of their testicles removed and replaced with clear plastic on the theory that it’s more erotic to see how the sperm is made. I’ve never seen that, but I hope that’s true…

This one is from Catie, 40, in New York. “In your opinion, how many more years ’til cable television starts airing live executions, and would you watch?”
They did! What do you think Saddam Hussein’s was? I was at a skiing resort, over Christmas and New Year’s, at a beautiful fancy dinner with people in couture and everything, and they were sitting there with laptops watching Saddam Hussein be executed. There was a real photo-op.

John Waters by Peter Krogh

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Lord Krishna and the Milkmaids

From the Archive
                  Wednesday, January 07, 2004

Krishna and the milkmaids

I read The Life of Pi recently, and loved it, but one story in particular has struck me. It just perfectly parallels one of the ongoing Inet dramas around. So here is the story.

                  Lord Krishna was a little bored with hanging out his usual haunts, being godlike, so he brainstormed and thought now what would be really, really different from being a god? I KNOW!
                  Being a cowherd! and indeed, it is hard to disagree, so being Krishna and all, he just went ahead and turned himself into a cowherd. Nowadays I’m sure he’d just go into a chat room and try to be cowherd like, but that was back then, okay?

                  So the god Krishna was a cowherd. Bully for him. Now, there wasn’t much to do as a cowherd. Watch the cows, sure, but you would not believe how fast that gets tired. And back then they had no honky-tonk bars. So what did Krishna do? Well Krishna, like many gods, has a sharp eye for a curvy mortal. What do cows have in terms of support staff, other than cowherds? They have milkmaids, my dear. And these were some good-looking milkmaids, too. And horny. And Krishna was like WooHoo!!! PARTY!!!

                  Every night he would sign on…I mean go out to the woods and dance with the milkmaids. He was a god, there was enough of him to go around. His abundance was such that there was enough of him to dance with all the milkmaids at once, and they were happy and Krishna was having a blast. This state of affairs continued for quite some time, and Krishna was by far the most popular cowherd around, rumours about his background notwithstanding, I think it was the dancing that made him so popular. But then, one night as the dance reached its height each girl felt, in her heart of hearts, as if he were dancing with her and her alone.

     At that moment, he vanished forever.

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