The website healthguidance.org lets you know in its terms of service that any information on the site is not to be considered medical advice, which is why they chose the name "Health Guidance" instead of "Medical Advice," because it's remarkably different.

Gary Wickman, author of such engrossing topic pages as "how to chew food properly" and "fear of public peeing" tackles the subject of "how to stop a masturbation addiction" with some kick-ass tips that you're going to want to write down some place that isn't your penis because you're not even going to be looking at that wretched flesh dongle soon.

Gary gives some tips at first for just cutting back on the grubby rubbins to keep it manageable, but then at the end offers up some alternative ideas to occupy your time instead of trying to rub one out. So what should you do if you have the urge to play crotch whack-a-mole but for whatever reason you want to abstain? Watch an episode of your favorite TV show! After all, who among us hasn't been three belt notches deep in a stiffy and on the precipice of giving old Mr. Throb Knobble a trip to the finger gibbet when an old episode of Reba comes on and you just get whisked away to Pleasuretown without even putting a touch of stress on your prostate? I'd include a similar analogy here for women, but Wikipedia's page on female reproductive anatomy is barely hilarious at all. I have a half-formed joke about watching Two and a Half Men and its effect on your fallopian tubes. Maybe I'll work it in by the end of the article.

wikipedia.org

Ladies, feeling any eggs dropping?

If you're one of the sad few who doesn't have cable handy to wrangle your libidinous and terrifying loins, don't despair. Gary is not out of ideas just yet. He also suggests a good reward for yourself, instead of quaking your quim, is eating sweets. But wait, you say, won't you gain weight if you opt to have a Snickers every time your skin flute whistles for your attention? Oh shit son, you don't know Gary. He saw that coming and literally typed the following: "Try eating a couple of raisins."

I'm going to be honest; I legitimately had to stop masturbating when I read that the first time because I was laughing so hard. Why didn't I ever think of that? Feeling a little randy, are we? Couple of decrepit grapes oughta get that in check. Hey felons, prison sex got you down? Keep a box of Sunmaid raisins in your crack and turn that potential rapist into a definite friend for life! I'm not horny anymore, I'm just really sad that I'm eating raisins!

I spent too long on this site unable to figure out if it was a joke or the misplaced ramblings of a guy with a tentative grasp on both English and his own penis. While there are clearly jokes on the site, it is presented in a legit enough way that I'm just going to go ahead and assume one person read this page with utter sincerity. What started as an article on what to do if you want to stop masturbating degrades fairly quickly, within two sentences actually, into an article on just other ways to masturbate. But it's not what you think, as the author, for some reason, is pretty convinced that masturbation is unhealthy. Like, with your hand. But any other kind of masturbation is somehow not masturbation and is therefore pretty much OK.

As we all know, garroting the Gerber Baby causes blindness and crippledness. It says so on the site. As it turns out, the problem with jerking off is that your hand doesn't fully enclose around your penis and that results in uneven pressure being applied, which I guess is like trying to fly a bomber on one engine or something. Everything is all askew and there's the potential for many casualties. Also the very act of using your arm is causing you harm and Cyclopean Eye so you should jam your Fleshlight into some kind of hobby horse or ottoman and hump at it like God intended.

Dr. Sears is a real person with real medical credentials not found in a box of Costa Rican Corn Flakes. In fact, Dr. Sears has two degrees, because there's two Dr. Sears' and they're so professional they've been on Donahue. Ask your parents.

The doctors Sears have some advice for parents frustrated by Little Jimmy Slapawang and Little Sally Tribble-Tickler that starts off reasonable enough: Tell them to go to their room and advise them that rubbing 'til it bleeds isn't really normal. But toward the bottom of the page, the doctors were struggling for filler and wrote up a section advising that your child may be doing it as a way to release anxiety, so try some other tension relievers, like a back rub and soothing music.

I'm no social worker, but I can string together literally dozens of inappropriate jokes that start with the scenario of someone deciding their child diddles too much and proposing a little new age music and a body massage instead. As a suggestion for adults it's 100 percent less Penn State-y but still seems vaguely terrible in every way. When you got a hankering to do some spankering, Zamfir and a shoulder rub are a piss poor substitute.

You can tell this is a totally legit website because of the clock and green cross on it, which are traditional signs of reliability or leprechaun health care schedules. I suspect this is just another site like the one that recommended raisins, but it doesn't matter. What does matter is they, too, care about your penchant for pop locking Jason Statham.

Our friends at the clinic fear for our sexual survival and offer 10 tips to stem the wang-jangling tides. While chastising yourself with a rubber band or going for a jog are novel ideas, their most noteworthy recommendation is that get yourself a new friend. Specifically, a pet. A pet will love you unconditionally and will never shrink in terror from the compulsively masturbating crotch troll you've become, shunning the light and leaving a trail of crusty socks in your wake. That dog will just dodge and weave your onslaught until he's close enough to sit at your side and be your pal, and maybe then, when you see that warm, loving look in his eye, you'll return Sergeant Splatter to the barracks and take your dog for a walk. Look at you, cured from your masturbation addiction. Good boy! Who's a good boy? You are! Yes, you are!

This tip comes to us from a blog that I suspect is written by a certified asshole. Like, literally, he may have a piece of paper at home issued by a governing body that indicates he has met all the requirements to be a stunning asshole. If I need to qualify this, I will do so by directing you to the sentence in which he advises you to train your wife or girlfriend to give you wake-up blowies without a hint of irony.

Anyway, Don Juan Douchemarco stumbled upon the wisdom of not wanking at some point and has been reaping all manner of benefits. What kind of benefits? Increased energy, focus, and attractiveness. It's true, he links to an even stupider blog about alpha and beta male behavior to prove this. See, women can smell pheromone signals from a man with more testosterone, and a chronic masturbator has less testosterone because Bill Nye the Science Guy apparently thinks testosterone and spooge are the same thing. But never mind faulty science, it's not what we're here for. We're here for faulty wank advice. And this guy's advice is to piss it away. Literally.

If you find your mind drifting to thoughts of Kate Upton on a pogo stick (or for you ladies, me on a pogo stick), run to the can and tinkle away your temptations. If you're outside you're probably OK to do it the hobo way and pee in an alley, but that presupposes you were about to rub one out at Wal-Mart or some such, which is a whole different ball of crazy.

Once you pee, your wiener will deflate like that last party balloon after none of your friends showed up to celebrate your birthday. Ladies, no advice for you on this one, but it's probably because this guy doesn't know his ass from a bottle of Mr. Pibb, so his insight into lady folk is limited to what he's seen on the Internet and from the window of the place where he buys his roofies.

Of course there's a Wikihow on how to stop masturbating because why wouldn't there be. Now that we're at the final entry of this article, doesn't it make you a little sad that there's clearly a decent enough population of people Googling "how to stop masturbating" that there are dozens and dozens of articles on the subject? That's the world we're in, people. A world in which people are at home, one hand clenched like a vulture's claw at their groins, all carpal tunnelly and pruney with spittle, desperately typing away trying to find a way to end the madness.

Wikihow offers you numerous solutions to your random jack attacks, including such things as "do pushups until you're exhausted," "volunteer your time," "eat healthy," and "take up a creative past time like music or art." Basically Wikihow wants you to unhand yourself and become a better thing than that which you already are, which sounds awesome at first and even kind of a good idea. Until I try to ruin it in the next paragraph.

Now I'm not saying this is always the case, but what if all those good people out in the world -- the artists, the volunteers, the healthy joggers, the out and about people who always have something going on - are just compulsive masturbators in denial? These people want desperately to be at home giving their goodies a wicked drubbing, but instead they're distracting themselves at soup kitchens and gyms and poetry slams. The people we're meant to look up to are really just like the rest of us, only lying to themselves in a sad yet arguably less sticky way.

You think about this the next time you shake hands with someone who's always on the go. See how firm their grip is. See if they have that crazed look in their eye. They want it, man. They want it bad.