This Week in Sex

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Weekend Review
Stairlift to Heaven

“You’re only as young as the man you feel:” it’s an adage that an older lady from Eastern Europe lived and ultimately died by. The seventy-four-year-old Romanian woman suffered a fatal heart attack during sex with her twenty-six-year-old surrogate studmuffin while her husband, flaccid and unaware, slumbered in an adjacent room. Her lover, a neighbor, told police he covered her mouth with his hand to muffle her screams (and wheezes?) of pleasure before she died in his arms. The woman’s husband told stunned reporters that he had no idea his neighbor was having an affair with his withered wife. He then shrugged and muttered something about karma as the smiling woman was zipped up and taken away. While skeeved-out police are investigating the death, Romania’s leading sex-toy manufacturer is considering launching a new lubricant in the woman’s honor.

Dazed and Cone-fused

Turning once again to our well-thumbed “Big Book of National Stereotypes,” we find that the Scottish enjoy eating stuffed sheep’s guts, can’t calculate gratuities, are deeply suspicious of those who can pass a sobriety test any time after lunch and hate the English. To their credit, most Scots can see the funny side of living north of the border. Consider their atonal national instrument, the bagpipe, or their equally atonal musical export, the Bay City Rollers. Consider their warm reception of one local perv this week: Ross Watt of Edinburgh had sex with a traffic cone as a gang of pasty youths, far from being scandalized, actually egged him on. Why was the thirty-three year old humping a bright orange plastic cone? Because he couldn’t get his hands on his preferred sex object, a pair of stinky sneakers, of course. Apparently, Watt had spent some time asking teenagers gathered at an Edinburgh beauty parlor if they would sell him their shoes. When they declined his wacky offer, he turned his attention to the beacon. The crowd encouraged the huffing and puffing Watt to “give it some!” but after about fifteen minutes of cone-to-genital contact, the throng grew bored and alerted local cops. Watt’s defense lawyer and Johnny Cochran wannabe, Andy Gilbertson, suggested that if his client had been performing this bit at an Edinburgh Festival fringe show to a similarly receptive audience then his behavior would have been acceptable and cone-doned. He then retracted his statement, after realizing that it was, in legal terms, a fucking stupid argument.

New Masturbatory Fantasy: Chicks With Tix

A San Francisco–area woman decided to trade one wild-card series for another this week and posted a classified ad on offering a pair of World Series tickets in return for a vial of healthy sperm. Her ad, which was removed from the site for undisclosed reasons, explained that one serving of frozen donor sperm from a reputable sperm bank would cost somewhere between $250 and $350 — the going street rate for the tickets. Further sweetening the deal for local fans, she assured potential donors that the child would be raised as a Giants fan. It would seem that, even when New York isn’t playing the series, the Yanks always win.

Hungry Hungary Switch-os

This week in the old Eastern Bloc,

a couple trade coochie and cock,

“It’s certainly strange,”

they quipped after the change,

“We’re now switching boots ‘fore they knock!”

Blikk, the bargain bin of awkward consonants that is Hungary’s daily paper, reports that a married couple has completed the country’s first intracouple gender swap. Not that they physically switched their born bits; they just had plastic surgery at the same time. Dr. Laszlo Pajor, who led the operations, called the sex exchange a complete success, even though the ex-man was rejected by the other patients in the female ward . . . (no, seriously.) While there’s no word on whether they’ve consummated their connubial crossover, hopes are high: Dr. Pajor is the same whiz who successfully hid Cher’s original face on the back of her head.
Okay, that’s not true, but it should be. (Unlike this story, which is true, but shouldn’t be.)

Additional research, puns, wordplay and double entendres supplied by Jim Jazwiecki.

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