When the publishing world exploded with news of my three-book deal, most assumed the news pertained to my forthcoming Notes from the Internet Apocalypse trilogy (also available for pre-order for your Nooks and Kindles). But it turns out I also have another series of books. Yes, my ever popular Celebrity Sex Positions publications! So without further ado, here are some entries from the third (and probably final) installment.
Available for pre-order!
Not only do the ladies love Ryan Gosling the man, they love Ryan-Gosling the verb! Hell, I've been Ryan-Gosling the ladies for like weeks now. But it's hard! First you have to make yourself super cute. Like puppy-dog cute. Accordingly, Step 1 is ripping the eyes out of a puppy's head and using them to replace your own.
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This one will do.
Sure, you'll no longer be able to see color, but it's worth it for the ladies! Then you need to be like super sweet and caring and compassionate -- the way girls like their boys in romance novels. Here's the trick, though: As the sex act progresses, make your sexuality increasingly dark and ambiguous. If you're Ryan-Gosling your lady correctly, sex will start in a field of daisies on a summer's day and end under a streetlight in the ghetto where the only sound is the echo of loneliness off the infinite.
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Dark, tortured ambiguity can be hawt.
This one has very little to do with fading pop star/emerging blues man John Mayer. You don't have sex while telling your partner her body is a wonderland or anything like that. No, this sex act needs to be taken a lot more literally. It involves teasing your girl with sex in a public toilet, or "john." The John "May 'er," if you will.
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"I don't get it."
Pick a stall, get the juices flowing, maybe even take out a condom, but then wait. Wait until she pants "Are we gonna have sex?" Then raise one haughty eyebrow and reply, "We may ..." What's the fun in that, you ask? I'm not sure, but then again I don't know why anyone listens to "Your Body Is a Wonderland" either.
The proper name for any sex act that requires a full body condom and a time machine.
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Although this is not a masturbatory act, only one person in the world enjoys "Adam Levine" sex: Adam Levine.
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"Isn't that enough?"
Oh, come on. That's just too easy. I bet you thought I'd do something like "poppin' a John Boehner" to describe the House majority leader who became one of the faces for the GOP's horribly orchestrated government shutdown. Well, I'm not going to turn Boehner's name into some cheap sex joke, mostly because the mere mention of him instantly desiccates all sexual orifices within a 40-mile radius.
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"Go ahead. Break my heart. I can afford lots of private health insurance."
All the 20-somethings love to get their Zac EFF on, if you know what I mean. (Eff? Y'know, like "F"? Like short for that "F" word? Yeah, getting that on.) "But how?" you ask. You've gotten your "F" on, but how do you get your Zac EFF on? Good question.
Getting your Zac EFF on is just like all the sex you normally have, except you do it to terrible music and only take time out from singing to bump lines of coke.
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"Not cool, man."
For those of you who don't know, Tim Cook is Apple's new CEO, having replaced Steve Jobs (who succumbed to nature's built-in obsolescence last year). Tim Cook, I'm sure, is a fine, accomplished man, but if you're "gettin' the ol' Tim Cook," you're mostly likely having sex with someone who's thinking of someone else and sleeping with you in a failed attempt to ease the loss of their one true love.
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Tim Cook 2.0 coming next month.
When I was trying to come up with what this act could possibly be, I realized that somewhere there must be a large-breasted dominatrix in a red wig who goes by the handle "Christina Bend-Dicks."
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"Let's pretend I have red hair for the sake of this joke. Thanks."
I don't have a joke about Christina Hendricks. Frankly, I'm disgusted by your expectation for cheap laughter at the expense of this national treasure who I admire first and foremost as a talented actress. You really should see the fine work she's done in Mad Men and Drive. And you should also tell her I said so after forwarding her this article and explaining that I respect her body, mind, soul. Of course, her beauty and sex appeal are not in question, but once you convince her to follow me on Twitter and DM me about a good time to get together in a sophisticated New York City wine bar, she and I can discuss all her talents, dreams, and boobs. DAMMIT!
This one's named after the famed director of Raging Bull, Goodfellas, and Gangs of New York and is really popular with both lovers of great cinema and stupid d-bags in wifebeater T-shirts who like to repeat Joe Pesci dialogue when they're drunk in bars.
This move starts with stark, gritty foreplay, unflinchingly arousing the basest instincts of your partner with a fearless, almost violent intensity. As the act progresses, add increasing amounts of style and grace to your lovemaking. The juxtaposition of the gritty realism (of your boning) coupled with nuanced artistry (of your boning) will take your partner to the heights of orgasmic delight. Afterward, hang around for another 10 years engaging in artsy mutual masturbation with Leonardo DiCaprio.
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Oh, right. Also, when it's over, say "score" so this terrible pun works.
You might know Benedict Cumberbatch from the BBC's wonderful Sherlock or as young Khan in Star Trek Into Darkness or as Julian Assange in The Fifth Estate. He is a very talented actor with a very silly name. Also, he looks like a cricket.
But apparently there is no shortage of ladies into cricket humping, because women love them some Cumberbatch. This Brit is serving up veritable batches of ... oh God, what's become of me? I have an honors degree in English. You know that, right? Just yesterday I was writing a thesis that argued that Hemingway's posthumously published A Moveable Feast was actually written a good 30 years earlier and now I'm literally making dick jokes about some actor's name. This is so depressing. Don't look at me.
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