Merry Christmas from me and my assistant Marta!

Things are busy in the Mountjoy Laboratory as we prepare to bring Perineal Therapy^TM (Side effects may include: lightheadedness, ejaculation, acute psoriasis, death) to the attention of physicians across the world.

Unfortunately, as you may have suspected, this means Way to Suck That Dick is on an indefinite hiatus.

Don’t be sad! There’s photodump upon photodump of strange amateur porn floating around on the internet for you to caption and share with your friends and loved ones. Keep the spirit of Way to Suck That Dick alive in your homes and your hearts and you will find that it is truly the meaning of Christmas.

…and to all a good night.

Dolly

Oh no! I woke up this morning to a frantic message from sexy comics lady Danielle Corsetto who was wondering if I was still alive or in jail. I logged into WTSTD and saw some similar messages here.

I had no idea people cared so much!

Yes, I am still alive and no, I’m not in jail. In fact, I was nursing Benoît Mandelbrot through the last days of his life with a new medical technique I’m developing that involves delicate massage of the perineum. While I couldn’t save Benoît, I see a promising future for Perineal Therapy (TM pending) and have begun to dictate my forthcoming textbook on the subject to my assistant, Marta. I’m hoping that it will top the bestseller list by next Christmas and make me rich beyond my wildest dreams (and they do get pretty wild).

I will be here from time to time if I can make it out of my laboratory, but obviously I need to figure out how I can be a Pulitzer Prize winning physician, New York Times bestselling author, a dedicated mother of four AND run a popular erotic website. Phew!

Time for a glass of pinot grigio, amirite?

Irene gulped as she saw Lars and Olenka twist into the “Swedish Vortex”, a move she had been attempting for months but could never quite master, thanks to an old mountaineering injury. She swore she could see 10s as the judges shuffled their scorecards. A whole year of training, and what had it come to? Just an industrial-sized tub of lubricant and shattered dreams.

The time stamp says 3:34 pm, so we probably can’t even blame alcohol for this strange Afternoon Delight. But why wait until the middle of a cold dark night? Ryan’s got some bait a-waitin’ and I think Mark might try nibbling a little afternoon delight. Skyyyyyyrockets in flight! Afternoon delight! Aaaaaaaaaaafternoon delight.

Thanks to reader Six for the discovery!

….why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free fuck the cow?

“Uhhhh, can I help you?”

“Oh, sorry! I thought you two were done here.”

“Does it look like we’re done?!?”

“Yikes, my bad! From where I was sitting across the room, I could only see your ladyfriend’s face and I got the impression that she was done.”

“She’s not done! Wait….Lindsay, are you done?”

“……………I’m not *not* done.”

“I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

“Except for the Negros and evil Jews, obviously!”

“This piece is called L’Andouillette de Vincent. It’s a performative reenactment of an erotic encounter with the spirit of Vincent Van Gogh, reincarnated as a sausage, that I had when I visited a Mojave Indian shaman over spring break. It was, like, a key moment in my journey of self-discovery.”

Marissa’s senior art school thesis gets a B+.