Generally, I prefer my penis to be the injector, as opposed to the injectee.  Perhaps this stems from the time I was entertaining the prospect of pumping my own member full of grape jelly for no apparent reason.

Truthfully, I only rejected the procedure when I discovered that the hypodermic needle out-sized my dong in both length and girth.  Well, that and the fact that the homeless guy who was performing the operation was suffering from delirium tremens at the time.

News from Thailand seems to indicate that my decision, unlike most, was sound.  The image-conscious Thai people seem to be going to great, possibly fatal, extremes that make their American counterparts seem like real sissies.

On the safer end of the beautification spectrum is Khunyingtobnom, a 46-year-old woman whose name translates to “Madam Breast-Slapper.”  That’s not a joke, and also not her parent-given name.  She professes that her time-tested technique of slapping boobies will increase breast size by at least one bra size.

There appears to be some science backing Khunyingtobnom’s claims, since German soldiers are apparently growing breasts as a direct result of their chest-slapping gun drills.

“This is the beauty by nature,” she says, “one million percent guaranteed.”  I can only hope that the venerable Madam will invest some of her income in a class on basic mathematics.  That income, incidentally, is 600 USD per two 15-minute sessions; one for each tit.  She slaps roughly 40 udders per day and is likely stinking rich, albeit not mathematically inclined.

And apparently, if you want your face to also increase by a bra size, you can purchase a 1,000 USD face-slapping session; a service I provide free of charge to anyone who asks nicely.

On the exact opposite end of the danger scale, Thai men are reportedly injecting olive oil, beeswax, silicone, and paraffin into their genitals in a bid to increase the size of their wee-wees.  Rapeseed oil would seem to be a more appropriate choice in my not-so-humble opinion.

You’re probably wondering what could possibly go wrong after pumping your junk full of foreign substances.  Skin lesions and serious infections are two of them, according to Surat Kittisupaporn, a doctor at Police General Hospital, a facility that sees roughly 300 patients per month due to botched penile injections.  On an unrelated note, I’m understandably jealous of any dude whose last name ends in “porn.”

“The body reacts to the foreign substances. When there is chronic irritation or infection, it’ll be very hard to cure … it’ll be hard to even walk or take a shower,” he said.  Surgery is often inevitable, and often catastrophic.  In fact, the good doctor, just last year, needed to completely remove a 50-year-old man’s genitals after his repeated injections of olive oil left him with no other option… ironic in a funny kind of way that the “treatment” one uses to increase his dick size ends up requiring its complete removal.

There is also apparently a long-held Thai belief that lighter-skinned people are of a higher class than darker skinned ones.  This belief also seems to extend to female genitals, judging purely by the fact that vaginal bleaching soaps are such hot sellers in Thailand.

All this has my head spinning, frankly.  It also has me more seriously considering my idea for an on-line dating service that matches couples based solely upon the size of their genitals.  If anyone has a good metric for measuring vagina-size, I’m all ears, because as of this writing, I’m leaning toward “number of dwarf fingers.”

Ladies, the love you have for your man is a timeless, infinite journey punctuated by unsolicited expressions of tenderness, affection, and unconditional trust; a miraculous adventure into the wonders of inter-personal discovery…until it’s not anymore.

That’s when those pictures you sent him in the height of your mutual infatuation become primo masturbatory material for some anonymous, overweight schlub who can barely spot the tip of his micro-fallus past the mass of blubber situated above his waistline.

That’s when the mental images you had of the two of you with your perfect, adorable, imaginary children dissolve into a conflagration of hatred and regret, when you tear up the countless sheets of paper upon which you’d signed your first name with his last name, when the mere thought of his face causes you to involuntarily cross your legs.

Just ask Hollie Toups, Marianna Taschinger, or 27-year-old mother-to-be Kelly Hinson, who have recently petitioned to file a class-action law suit against a revenge porn site after discovering that not only naughty pictures of them had been posted, but also personal information such as home and e-mail addresses.

Kelly Hinson recounts an incident where she was shopping in Walmart.  She was approached by a man who asked her, “You’re Kelly, right?”  He then proceeded to explain to her that he had downloaded pictures of her from the web site in question.

Now, let us just examine this incident for a moment.  The gentleman did not merely recognize her face as one he’d seen, but couldn’t place.  He remembered her name and from whence he knew it.  Not only did he divulge that he’d seen her pictures on-line, but that he’d downloaded them for easy, repeated viewing stroking.

Add to the embarrassment of this story the fact that Ms. Hinson had to admit that she shops at Walmart.

‘I literally ran off. I ran off,’ Hinson said.  Good move, Kelly.  You should probably stick to Target in the future anyway.

Documents associated with the pending law suit indicate that the revenge porn site in question exists ‘to cause severe embarrassment, humiliation and emotional distress’ to the women who have unwittingly had their pictures posted on it.  Then again, I understand that there are more than a few dudes who get off on jerking it to images of women who don’t seem to know they’re being recorded.  Thankfully, I don’t happen to be one of them, though I’m sure I’d be awesome at it if I were.

No one’s saying it’s going to be pretty.

There’s been quite a bit of talk of late about how to lift our struggling planet from what seems to be a near-universal malaise.  To be honest, it’s mostly just me talking to my co-workers and friends about it and I don’t mind divulging to you that they’re getting fairly weary of it all…and me in general, frankly.

I’m an enormous downer to be around at the moment, but there’s some good news on the horizon, folks, and I’m positively giddy about it.  In fact, just now I started humming The Hampster Dance to myself for no apparent reason.

I know, I know…he’s probably just looking for a kid who resembles himself.

Geneticist, George Church, claims to have Neanderthal DNA at the ready and he is prepared to produce one of these hairy bastards as soon as he finds a willing womb-owner to birth the little beast.

Before you get all “oh, man, another quack” on me, understand that Church is Professor of Genetics at Harvard Medical School, Professor of Health Sciences and Technology at Harvard and MIT, and a core faculty member at the Wyss Institute for Biologically Inspired Engineering at Harvard University.

Neanderthals became extinct roughly 33,000 years ago.  Luckily, Church has acquired enough DNA from fossilized bones to reconstruct the genetic code required to make my wildest dreams come true.  He proposes to artificially construct a full DNA strand, place the strand into stem cells, and then inject those cells into human embryo cells.

He believes that the stem cells would then steer the development of the embryo along Neanderthal lines rather than human ones.  After a few days in the lab, the embryo would then be implanted into a human surrogate, allowing it to develop into a legitimate Neanderbrat.

Unfortunately, human reproductive cloning is illegal in most countries and there are some turds going on about ethical concerns or some such nonsense, but permit me to daydream a bit on the possibilities with you:

1. Neanderthal servants – My first thought was that we could turn our new creations into a whole service industry.  We wouldn’t even have to pay them money.  Their currency could be fake animal pelts.  They’ll never know the difference.  Imagine your brand new Neanderthal servant doing all those crappy jobs around the house that you don’t want to do; like unclogging the toilet after I’ve visited your house.

2. Neanderthal porn – Oh, yeah, try to tell me nobody will have that fetish.

3. Neanderthal drug testing – No longer would we have to put animals at risk of death or serious injury by testing drugs on them.  Neanderthals would be closer to us genetically than a friggin’ rat anyway and, well, those poor little rodents have suffered enough.

Probably enough for now.  I’d encourage you to put more ideas for our new Neanderthal creations in the comments section if I thought it would do any good.