Spit Lubing and Morning Breath: An Impassioned Warning

I don’t know how much you enjoy masturbating. Some people like it a great deal, and don’t feel that their lack of actual sex says anything about them as a person. Some people feel the opposite, and would shag a marmot just to feel alive. Most of us are somewhere in the middle. Some of us are aroused by helicopters. We’re all individuals.

If it is before 8:30, none of these people should be masturbating.

If it is before 8:30, none of these people should be masturbating.

As such, us mundane semi-frequent self-diddlers all have certain times of day or night during which we prefer to digitally engage ourselves. Some prefer the late night, donning headphones and eating pork-fried rice. Others prefer the afternoon, most likely within a co-worker’s cubicle while they’re around the corner at the local deli enjoying a turkey burger. So far so good…but what of the morning masturbator? Is all well with the sunrise Susans and the dawn-up delighters? Simply put, NO!

Well, maybe yes, but also maybe NO!

For you see, the morning auto-gasmic lot face a unique circumstance known as the “lubricatory impasse,” or the dilemma which arises regarding whether to exert the necessary energy to obtain a packaged form of masturbatory lubricant, or to go au naturale with the classic Danny Thomas spit-take to the palm.

Are you fucking serious, early-rising eruptors?! How is there even a question here?! Does this really need to be spelled out?

Using your mouth with your eyes rolled to the back of your head is a great way to help a friend masturbate if you've already brushed, flossed, and otherwise mouth-douched the gape in your face.

Using your mouth with your eyes rolled to the back of your head is a great way to help a friend masturbate if you’ve already brushed, flossed, and otherwise mouth-douched the gape in your face.

Whether your feel like masturbating or not, cup your hand to your mouth tomorrow morning when you wake up. Smell the distant-relative of The Bog of Eternal Stench from the film “Labyrinth”? How pleasant is that odor? Pleasant enough to slather it upon your genitals? Christ people, think before quenching the thirst of Venus!

Long, short and otherwise, the point is clear: take the time to obtain a lubricating substance that will not make your nethers stink of the sweat between the rolls of an obese barkeep’s back-fat. If you cannot quell the urge to hock yourself to Nirvana, consider joining a religious organization that forbids sex; those always work out perfectly. Either way, make positive life choices, and never once consider the idea of actually engaging in sexual intercourse with another human being.