Voted the Best Kisser in the Kingdom by the readers of ‘Suck My Face Gorgeous’. A man who was once described as having a canoe in his pants and the charm of a vintage recycled sweatshirt. Here’s the brilliant and often divisive best of Reuben Salsa.
I’ve tried everything. I’ve freed my nipple in the most sexually contrived manner I could possibly do. I tarted my nipple up with glitter and rubbed various lube around the surrounding man boob, but still had no response. My nipples remained on display freely living life in sub-zero temperatures, all perked and erect for action.
I’ve shown off my inner thighs that stretch-marked their way up to my navel. I’ve slow-moed the wobble action with glistening sweat shaken off in terror like some after-beached dog shaking itself dry. My thigh curves luxuriously across the screen in monolithic arty slabs of…
Did you see me smile?
Was it even funny? Are you trying to test the plasticity of my face as you beckon me in with a warm, inviting interlude before launching into racist commentary that only gets uglier with each passing second? Our co-workers hang on for the punchline — the twisting knife that mocks several cultures at once in an adept play on words.
Look how clever you are.
How do I feel about your latest round of racist jokes? Should I stay silent because of my need to fit in with the group?
There have been dozens of false prophets and messiahs throughout the centuries since Christ died. It’s never a dull moment to set yourself up as the second coming so you can bag a few virgins and swindle the desperate. Several men and a few women in London have tried and it never ends well.
In 1562, Elizeus Hall was sent to prison after claiming that he was a messenger from God. Hall recounted how his journey through the gates of Heaven and Hell took two days to complete. A round-trip which he couldn’t cash in his air miles. He was…
I was there, in 1989, front and center when the High Priestess anointed Frank as our God. It was a time of great movement within the industrial wastelands of toiletries. Men were sent to retrieve bowels that moved and shook the planet but none came forth with much Blackness.
But there, in the studio within the hallowed ground that is Boston, sat the band that becameth a legend. Frank Black was the cherished leader and humble servant to the one true god of music. …
Not all people are born equal. Not everyone is racist. Black people are oppressed as are Asians, POC, and all indigenous groups everywhere. We can all agree that White people are offensive. They’re all one homogenous group of pale which makes it hard to pick out one Nazi from another in a line-up. If you’ve seen one White person, you’ve seen them all.
Here is a handy guide sponsored by Racial Paints Worldwide® that’ll help you spot the real racist from a crowd of supremacists without breaking into a sweat. …
The world is full of so many crazies right now, it’s always good to look back and realize that, yes, the world has always been full of crazies.
One such sect was the Peculiars of Plumstead who would later morph into The New Forest Shakers. They were joined by the Walworth Jumpers who loved nothing more than a sloppy kiss for a greeting. It was all-tongue and no horse-play for the Jumpers. Celibacy can only take your cult so far and when nobody’s offering virgins to deflower, people quickly lose interest.
The Peculiars were devout. They made the Puritans look…
Conviction: a firmly held belief or opinion.
“She takes pride in stating her political convictions.”
I admire people who have conviction. The sort of person who’ll stand by their words. The chest-puffer unable to back down when somebody shoots them an evil glance. I would love to be strong in my convictions.
As the years drift by and I begin to face my own mortality, I’ve been challenging my convictions. Am I willing to die for what I believe in? How convicted am I? Do I even have any strong convictions?
This, ultimately, leads me to a legacy. What kind…
I once met a man who rated every one of his Tinder dates. He had it all captured in an Excel spreadsheet. There in neat little columns were scores assigned for every category. I admired his attention to detail as he pinpointed important traits like flossing or would the person be willing to make him breakfast in the morning. The man was an arse.
I was reminded of this douchebag when I thought about what it meant to work for a company that had no bones in their closet. Would you be happy if the product killed people but they…