5 Baffling Uses of Sex Toys That Prove Humanity Is Doomed

I have two words I need you to write down. The first word is "drilldo." Please fold that up and put it in your wallet. The second word is "fucksaw." Highlight it in yellow. Place that in your wallet, also. Should it ever fall out of your wallet and be read by someone, wait for them to make eye contact and answer their unasked question with a sharp nod.

A drilldo is what you get when you put a dildo and a drill together. A fucksaw is what happens when you take something, let's say a saber saw, and jam a dildo on it. It needs to be said, however, that if you were to ever create a Frankenfuckmachine like this, you need to do it properly. When you build such a machine you must build it as an engineer, not as a desperate pervert. Desperate perverts have never contributed anything to the advancement of man, but engineers have. So put on your thinking cap and, this is a freebie from ol' Felix for you, remove the blade first. Don't keep the fully functional, flesh-rending blade of the reciprocating saw in place if you plan to mount a rubber shlong on it and insert it into someone else's orifice. The reason being that you can't put a power tool inside another human without Jesus himself shrieking and turning away in uncomfortable terror.

Despite the obviousness of my engineering advice, back in 2009 a couple in Maryland were all "fucksaw, yee-ha!" and decided to give it a try. Mr. Wizard just jammed the dildo right down over the blade and, surprising to no one but him and his dim-witted yet insufferably horny partner, the sex-o-matic panic machine malfunctioned insofar as the blade just chewed through that rubbery wang like a hyena through a wildebeest carcass and, predictably, went right on into the lady. Did you just make an uncomfortable face when you read that? Yeah. Imagine what her expression was like.

So she had to go to the hospital, because obviously, and we've all just learned a valuable lesson in how not to hump a cutting tool (the lesson is don't hump a cutting tool.)

An antihero is a protagonist who has no heroic qualities at all. He could easily be cast as a villain but, for our purposes, is the central character of the story. Maybe he's an outlaw. A corrupt politician. A Tarantino character. Or maybe he's a guy who wields a duct-tape wrapped dildo with impunity.

We're heading back to Australia for this story, because all the great stories come from there. At 3 in the morning, a 38-year-old man wearing a black leather mask broke into a house. He carried with him a large, rubber dildo covered in duct tape. He beat the shit out of the 49-year-old lady who lived in the house with said dildo. As she escaped with her son, the masked Cock Slapper then stole the woman's dog and taped it to a tree.

I'm torn on how to present this story because the dog did die, and that's pretty cruel and sad, but I can't help but picture the story as a whole and it makes me laugh. It's a bad kind of laughter, like a kind of joke Jim Norton might tell and you feel a little dirty afterwards, but, still, you do laugh. So it's sad this guy killed a dog, but at the same time ... he broke in, beat a lady with a dildo, and then taped the dog to a tree. That really seems to be the whole of a crime. And it's believed to have been premeditated. What?

The victim (the lady, not the dog) suffered some facial bruising, so it's worth noting that, no, a dildo is not a particularly effective tool with which to bludgeon a victim into oblivion during the commission of a crime.

As a people, we love putting stuff in our asses. Don't you dare even think about writing a comment about how you don't like putting stuff in your ass. If we didn't love ass stuffing then the world would be immeasurably different than it is. Let's make a quick list of things we'd have to get used to in a world in which people didn't routinely invade their hind quarters.

• No one would giggle at the word anal.
• The children of butt plug manufacturers would go hungry.
• Gays would be remarkably bored.
• This entry would be going nowhere.

In China, ass stuffing is slowly but surely growing in popularity as China's attitudes towards sex begin to loosen up along with their bungholes. Unfortunately, and you'd think this wouldn't be an issue but here we are, as they become more open to the idea of using sex toys, no one's stopping to ponder the logistics of said sex toys. The result of which is dudes walking around Shanghai for five straight days with 9 inches of faux man-chub lodged in their Southern wilds.

In this case, doctors were quite surprised by the size of the beast and apparently turned him away after unsuccessfully trying to dislodge Moby Dick. So he went to a few other hospitals before finally going back to hospital No. 1, where they determined he had blocked his intestines. Well, no shit. Literally.

Doctors advised afterward that people using sex toys should exercise caution and maybe consider dredging their chum chutes with less traumatic objets d'art, which is a pretty solid recommendation and one you should take both to heart and to your ass.

I'm not a robber, so for me to speak to this with any degree of authority is maybe not entirely sincere. I don't routinely hold up trains or monocled gentlemen as they depart the theater whilst twirling my mustaches and then fleeing to my hilltop lair, where I can count out my Krugerrands and pay peasant folks to disrobe to my Victrola music while I laugh in a mirthless fashion at their discomfort. Not routinely.

Still, my knowledge of robbery is extensive enough to know that, generally, one wields a threatening weapon and demands valuables at the threat of bodily harm. However, in this case, a man used a vibrator to rob a bookie, which seems like it's several kinds of mistake all at once.

For what it's worth, the vibrator was concealed in a bag and he was pretending he had a gun, but if that's your plan of action, you could just as easily have a fork in that bag, or a shower head, or the TV remote. Why he chose a vibrator we may never know, but the paper says it was a Rampant Rabbit vibrator, which, for those not all up to date on battery-powered schlong designs, looks a lot like an electric toothbrush with a penis head and a tiny, rubber rabbit suffering from osteoporosis attached to the side about two-thirds of the way down the shaft, all doubled over and sad looking. It's not particularly gun-like.

The robber got away with more than $1,000 but was caught not too long afterward, since a customer at the bookie's just watched him run away and told police where he and his vibrator went. So justice was served and all that, and, still, after all that, no one thought to ask him why he was using a battery-powered jiggle stick in place of literally anything else.

This is the story of how sometimes a fun experience, like playing marbles or enjoying a nice piece of cheese, or spelunking a loved one's nether chasms with a vibrator, can turn into something absolutely horrifying. So your marble rolls into a mud puddle, your cheese has mold on it, or the vibrator curiously transforms itself into a voracious, carnivorous, Saw-inspired tool of blood-craving insanity that only operates within the confines of a vagina. A vagina!

So one afternoon (it could have been evening but I like to think this was a nooner--it feels right), April Bonjour and her boyfriend were going to have some sexings. Was her boyfriend inadequate? A limp noodle? Tired from eating all that cheese? Who knows. They chose to use a toy to enhance their fun, however. And it did not work. Instead, Bonjour was all "Hello!" when she felt a sharp pain in her lady domain. Her boyfriend removed the offending toy and what followed was like that scene in The Shining when Wendy watches the elevator open and gush a veritable river of blood out into the hallway. Did you know that if you watch that scene closely you can sort of almost see a body in all that blood falling out of the elevator? But wasn't the set a miniature set, and, if so, is that a miniature body? Think about that for later, it's totally irrelevant. Although since we're here just now, try to imagine if Jack Nicholson and Shelly Duvall really had a kid. Wouldn't it look like Steve Buscemi? Moreso than the kid they cast in the movie, anyway? Just a thought. Ponder it.

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What was the deal with that guy dressed like a dog, anyway?

What is relevant is that Bonjour freaked right the fuck out, as you may expect you would do when you insert tab A into slot B expecting orgasm C and instead end up with blood clots D, E, and F, plus blood geyser G. That's a whole alphabet of "oh shit."

Bonjour briefly thought maybe she had just started her period so she decided to strap on a pad and wait Aunt Flo out. By the time she'd gone through every pad in the house and was bleeding even more heavily she decided it was time to hit up a hospital. Ladies, let this be a lesson to you: If you quite unexpectedly have about 10 periods in a row, in one afternoon, just go to the hospital.

At the hospital Bonjour required blood transfusions, and, as you might expect, she sued the company that made the vibrator because sexual blood bath is rarely anyone's desired outcome from using a sex toy. Alas, my search for an outcome in that case proved fruitless, but I like to think she was awarded half damages with a jury deciding she and her boyfriend were partly to blame, maybe as a result of him falcon punching it into her snatch or whatever. I don't know. How the hell does a vibrator do that to you, anyway?