It’s that time again, for our weekly Menstration, our highly subjective weekly roundup of the BAD and RAD from this week…It’s the Men’s Trait’s Raddest Person of the Week award.
Before I get into the nominees, how about a breakdown of our process? I typically get three or four nominees a week from readers. If you want to nominate someone, there are about 3 ways to reach us:
- You can submit nominees to our Facebook page.
- You can tweet us your nonimations at @MensTraitOnline or @johnpsousa using the hashtag #MTRaddestPersonOftheWeek or #MTDBagOfTheWeek.
- You can email us at “editorial at 301digitalmedia dot com” with “MT D-Bag Of The Week Nominee” or “MT Raddest Thing of the Week” in the subject line.
Depending on the nominee, we’ll publish a post, and then we’ll keep track of them all week. Our staff then votes (sometimes after a vigorous Slack debate). So, you can submit items on people/things that were RAD or people/things that are BAD and we will break them down.
Raddest Person of the Week Nominee #1: Bill Murray and all Cubs fans
The Chicago Cubs ended a 108 year-long World Series drought on Wednesday in Cleveland. They came back from a 3 games to 1 deficit to beat the team from Cleveland, and pandemonium ensued. Bill Murray was involved, and the city of Chicago is throwing a massive parade and party today.
2016 World Series.
Cubs vs Indians
And then the world will end with the score tied in game seven in extra innings #apocalypse
— GIO (@RaysFanGio) November 4, 2014
Raddest Thing of the Week Nominee #2: Smoking Robots
Scientist invented a robot that smokes cigarettes to help them learn about and develop treatments for various lung diseases and also save rats from being placed in a smoke-filled box. I’ve written a lot about nerds who, instead of learning how to talk to people, invent sex robots so they can turn their VR fuckfests into exponentially more real fuckfests but still not real enough to include an actual, consenting person. And I joked that maybe they could combine the smoking robot with the sex robots and then they could light up a post-coital smoke.
Later that day, super reader Cross from the Bay Point Department of Carnival Safety sent me this article about talking sex robots with warm genitals. Let’s look at some quotes:
For $15,000, Levy says users will be able to buy sex robots with synthetic skin embedded with electronic sensors allowing them to respond to touch, the ability to talk back in a “sexy voice,” and heating elements so that they’ll be warm … all over.
That’s a lot of money.
Abyss Creations, which makes RealDolls, is supposedly at the forefront of this field, though there are numerous Asian companies making major advances of their own. Matt McMullen, the founder and CEO of Abyss Creations said his vision for the future of sex robots involved emotional attachment.
“I want to have people actually develop an emotional attachment to not only the robot but the actual character behind it,” McMullen said. “To develop some kind of love for this being.”
Men’s Trait D-bag of the Week Update: Creepy Clowns
We’ve been covering the Clown Menace for some time here at Men’s Trait. There were the initial reports of clowns in the Carolinas, and then they spread across the Southeast. Then Batman started fighting back in England, and this produced a Clown Lives Matter movement. Well, it looks like this is spreading into continental Europe from the British Isles, and man, the fucking Germans do not play:
…a teenager in Berlin was stabbed while trying to scare his friends.
The victim, age 16, had put on a clown mask and was threatening a group his friends with a hammer when a younger boy, 14, pulled out a pocket knife and stabbed him in the chest. The group then discovered that they knew the boy.
The group administered first aid until an ambulance arrived on the scene and took the boy to the hospital for treatment. There is no word yet as to his condition.
Raddest Thing of the Week #3: Ask Angela
A town in England has started putting up posters in the ladies rooms of bars, informing any woman who’s on a date with a creep or feels unsafe at a bar because some alpha is negging too hard, to go to the bar and ask for “Angela.” This is code for “please get me the fuck out of here.”
Coming soon: an MRA version for Dave Hon when he accidentally finds himself on a date with a feminist, he can go to the bar and ask for “redPill_SteVe.Deplorable” with a tip of the old Fedora, and they’ll immediately rush him to a safe space full of warm sex robots for a cyber fuckfest.
Men’s Trait’s Raddest Thing of the Week: Laser ignited fart and Jacuzzi of Despair
There were a couple of incredible headlines this week. “Patient burned by mid-surgery explosion when laser ignites fart,” is one. “Scientists Find A ‘Jacuzzi Of Despair’ In Gulf Of Mexico,” was the other.
Both of these started me down weird trips of nostalgia, not all of it pleasant. In the first case I remembered the time I lit my farts with matches during a sleepover with a friend who grew up to be a meth-addled sex offender. The 2nd, which I didn’t write about at the time but will now, was also bittersweet. And no, it’s not just because the term “Jacuzzi of Despair” reminds me of Jerry Jones’ 12-person hot tub shaped like Texas Stadium.
It reminds me of my dad. He used to tell what we called “Viagra Stories,” which is exactly what they sound like: stories about taking Viagra. They’d always start the same way, like, “Hey Johnny, did you ever take Viagra?” I was in my mid-20s at the time and hadn’t taken any (still haven’t, thanks for asking, but who knows it might come in handy some day). Anyway, I’d say, “Nah,” and then he’d say, “Oh shit, you gotta try it. Have you ever been so hard a cat couldn’t scratch it?” Or he’d say, “Willie was so hard I was chasing your mom around the house for 45 minutes and tripped over the dog four times and nothing put a dent in it.”
My favorite was, “Hey Johnny, have you ever been in a hot tub with 3 Swedish airline stewardesses and an 8-ball of really good, Colombian cocaine?”
The answer was no, obviously, because that isn’t a thing that happens to people not in Mötley Crüe.
Anyway, he would usually say this while sitting in a hot tub. In fact, I think that’s the only time he told that version of the Viagra Story, except for maybe once at Thanksgiving.
What I’m getting at is that basically I’m Proust with laser farts and hot tubs instead of madeleines. And I should probably call him, see if he has any new Viagra Stories.
Have a great weekend.