Two Boobs Good, Four Boobs Better!

OK OK, the very first scheduled Press Start Review is a couple of days late; I have an excuse. I won’t bother boring you with it, but rest assured, it’s a really good one. On to the reviews!

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Ah yes, it’s Saturday again.  That either means that you’ll be heading out to drink yourself into a hungover Sunday, or having a nice night in.

There’s no shame in staying.  It doesn’t mean you’re getting old or that you’ve no friends.  If you stay in every night during the week and then stay in on Saturday too, that probable means you’re a sad old git with not friends.  You’re apartment is that weird smell of incense and wank.

But what the hell, throw caution to the wind, and have a night in.

Here’s a few suggestions that might help you plan said night in.

Movie:

Paranormal Activity.

I saw this in the cinema when it came out and it’s definitely worth another look on DVD.  A young married couple decide to film their house over night to see if they can record evidence of, you guessed it, paranormal activity.  In the same style as The Blair Witch Project as it’s shot on home video and supposedly starring real people and not actors.  I won’t lie to you, they’re actors.  The director came up with the idea when he suspected that he was living in a haunted house.  It doesn’t run that long, but it’s very well made and if watched with the lights down, will give a few genuine creepy feelings.  It’ll make you want to set up a camcorder for the craic.  I did but all I got was me lighting an incense stick and settling down to Youporn.  I forgot the camera was on.

Munchies:

Get in my filthy whore mouth

Kettle Chips.  You may have seen them in the shops and thought, meh.  But trust me these tasty little fuckers will hit the crunchy spot when you’re mindlessly staring at the screen in the dark.  We particularly love their sea salt and malt vinegar ones, but now they’ve got a new range of Ridge crisps out.  We’ve tried the Flame Steak ones and they’re durty.  Get some.

Beer:

Twoborgs, not like Star Trek you nerd.

Just because it’s topped our poll of favourite bargain beers and because it’s really not a bad brew at all, we recommend Tuborg.  You’ll pick it up in any supermarket or off licence and if you pay any more than a tenner for a six pack of 500ml cans, tell them to jog on.

So that’s your night in sorted then.

If nothing else use it as a back up when herself suggests that you rent the latest romantic comedy and snuggle up with a bottle of Pinot Grigio while she tries to give you a pedicure and forget that your a man with actual testicles.

#8  The Spooge-Meister

Is it boobs and cock or bug-eyes and nose? You decide.

How it’s done (according to Cookie):

“Normally the guy would mount the woman so they’re face to face, for a good ol tit wank, but what the guy does is sits on her face, facing away from her, so while she’s giving him some good rimming he’s getting his tit wank, if all goes well she’s get a belly button full of spooge from the balls that are now positioned over his spooge snake”

Cookie, you dirty little minx. Ladies of Ireland, take note.
Send your crudely drawn sex pics to us here: [email protected] and you’ll be in with the chance to win a €50 voucher courtesy of Sex-Toys.ie, Ireland’s leading online sex-shop.

Does anyone know what a critolis is?

Neither do I, but my Chinese girlfriend thinks I should.

I just applied for a job as a babysitter.

When they asked me if I had ever watched kids before, evidently, “from my car” wasn’t the answer they were looking for.

My girlfriend told me I suffer from a lack of imagination.

I said, “Yeah? Well you suffer from a lack of imagination”.

That showed her.

Isn’t it discrimination that Gingers can only use two lifelines in Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?

I walked down a street where the houses were numbered 64K, 128K, 256K, 512K and 1MB.

That was a trip down memory lane.

Apple will be releasing a new gadget exclusively for women later this year.

It’s called the iRon.

Call it a hunch, but I’m pretty sure I have an abnormal convex curvature of the upper spine.

Feminists say a man’s brain is in his penis.

Well, girls don’t even have a penis.

My girlfriend wanted perfume & jewellery for her birthday but I got her a chocolate egg & a toy instead.

She was kinder surprised.

via Sickipedia

Heading out this weekend??

Wanna get in someone’s pants, make sure you’re pants are the bizz!

I’ve found a few pairs that’ll score you some brownie points with the ladies.

If nautical nonsense be something you wish - €16 from Next

Like, Scooob! - €16 from Next

Unleash the metrosexualness - €24 from Next

Dude, retro trunks - €29 Urban Outfitters

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€15.50 from Ann Summers

€15.50 from Ann Summers

You know what they say, humour is the best way into her undies.

At least this way you can make her laugh before you take yours off.

You can thank me later.

Will.

This weeks collection of Facebook groups is a smorgasbord of weirdness and greatness in equal measure, behold:

Funny Inspirational Pictures that are in bad taste:

IF YOU’RE OFFENDED – LEAVE!
DO NOT ruin it for the rest of us.

Indeed.  We had a few giggles at the pictures up on this group.  You will too, or you’ll be grossly offended.  Either way, it’s worth a visit.

If you look long enough you’ll find one about colostomy bags that is particularly, erm, attention grabbing.

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If 65 million people join, Jesus will bring back Dinosaurs:

Does exactly what it says on the tin.

In other words it’s just a ploy to get 65 million members.

At just over 160,000 so far they’ve a bit of a way to go.

Plus I’m more than a little doubtful that Jesus would actually go out of his way to bring back the dinosaurs.

Although I’ve been wrong before so I’m jumping on this one.  After all, who wouldn’t want to be part of having T-Rex’s and Raptors running all over the shop?

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I hate it when I’m trying to concentrate and a Llama is looking at me slyly:

“You know when you’re trying to do something really important, and need to concentrate, but that Llama keeps looking at you funny.”

Can’t say that we do, but who are we to call you a liar.

Maybe if enough people join this group we can outlaw Llama’s and their sneaky underhanded ways of distracting concentration.

Fuckers.

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Dirty Dampers walking down the street in their PJ’s – Get bleedin dressed!:

“You’ve all seen them, walkin around the streets not a care in the world in their PJ’s. I really dont get it, it takes all of 5 minutes to put your clothes on and these Dampers choose to walk around in the mank they went to bed in

Dirty scaldy lookin youngones, the shame of it!!”

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Great Irish Sayings:

1.She had a face on her like a well slapped arse.

2.I’m as sick as a plane to Lourdes.

3.Up and down like a hoor’s knickers.

4.Jaysus, she could breastfeed a crèche.

5.Not even the tide would take her out.

There’s lots more, why not join up and add your own?

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Fuck this, I’m moving to Fraggle Rock!:

Dance your cares away, working’s for another day.

Let the music play, down at Fraggle Rock!

And so forth.

Here you’ll find directions to Fraggle Rock, the breed of Sprocket and lots of other Fraggle facts.

If you were born after the 80′s you won’t understand what the fuck this is or what’s going on.

Just once I want to snap my Kitkat exactly in the middle like in the ads:

This is one that I set up after seeing another ad for KitKat where the person in it snapped the finger directly in the middle.

Why the fuck can’t I ever do that?

I’ve never known anyone who has ever done it.  And yes, I’m that sad that things like this upset me enough to waste 90 seconds of my life to create a Facebook group about it, but still.

Hat tip to Moose for the Facebook groups.

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Finally, this isn’t a Facebook group, or a page for that matter.  It was posted on my wall yesterday by a person who I used to call a friend.  By showing me this link though, he has successfully stripped himself of that privilege.

Never mind the fact that this is NSFW, just don’t go there.  Please.

I’m not even going to link to it.

But here’s the address, if you want to, it’s all on you.

www.thatsnotsexy.com

You were warned.

#7 The Frostbitten Fanny

Frosty the snowman was a jolly, happy soul. It's easy to see why.

We didn’t receive instructions on how this position might be carried out, but we imagine that it must be:

a) Done outdoors.

b) During winter.

c) With a snowman.

The woman here looks awfully happy considering Frosty’s wang must be getting smaller and smaller by the second. Must be something to do with the size of his “snowballs”! Ba dum bum… Ok, I should really kill myself for that one.

Keep those entries coming in. March’s best entry wins a €50 for Sex-Toys.ie, Ireland’s #1 online shop for sex supplies, dildos, costumes and more!

Considering the day that’s in it, you’ve probably got the mother of all hangovers.  Paddy’s day will do that do you.

We sympathise here at Boob.ie because we know if you did things right yesterday you should be feeling at least some of the following:

• Bright lights will hurt.  To Gremlins, South African diamond slaves and Fritzl spawn, the morning sunlight might sting a bit.  Gettafuck.  Try opening the curtains before remembering to keep your eyes shut and they’ll be burned right out of your head faster than you can scream “Dear God, I’ve got retina cancer”.
• Your head will throb.  Like you’ve taken more of a pounding than Jordan’s vagine.  That’s a lot.
• You’ll have a funny taste in your mouth.  Funny strange, not funny ha ha.  Not that we’d know what it would taste like to teabag a Silverback Gorilla, but that’s what that taste is in your mouth.  Might have something to do with the garlic chilli cheese taco dinner box you had last night, which leads us onto your…
• Stomach.  Blinking causes you to dry wretch.  Actual moving will moisten that wretch up good and proper until you’ve pebble dashed all the surfaces around you.  It might look like garlic chilli cheese taco dinner box in reverse, but it smells like Benylin cough syrup.  That might have something to do with the round of jagerbomb strip Buckeroo you played last night and lost.
• The shakes.  So bad you consider Googling what Michael J Fox does to control his.
• The shits.  I know that’s crass, but there’s no other way to describe what happens when your body starts to evacuate through your rectum.  After wards you’ll feel as if you were rimmed by a thirsty camel.

Shut up ta fuck.

So what do we do to get rid of these horrible symptoms and begin to function as a normal human being again?  Luckily we’ve been around the block a few times.  Here are our gems of wisdom…

Do nothing.

It’s your God given right as a man to crawl your way from the toilet bowl to the couch and not move.  At all.  This gives you time for your second God given right as a man – feel sorry for yourself.  This gives your body time to get over the abuse from the night before.  Mugs of tea and cold Lucozade must be served by your significant other, even if they have a hangover.  It’s never as bad as yours, trust us on this.  And if they don’t take care of you in your hour of need, then you must leave their shit in black bags on the door step on your way out for a curer.

Have a fry.

Ah, there’s nothing like the Irish tradition of testing your body’s limits with alcohol abuse and then attempting to repair it with more abuse.  The full works of sausages, bacon, pudding, tomato, beans, mushrooms and runny eggs will do the trick.  Actually it won’t do fuck all.  At the very least it will make you vomit out your apendix proving that you’ve nothing else to throw up and making it safe to move again.

Hair of the dog.

Instead of going home at all, just kip in the doorway of the pub you fell out of.  When the doors open again, crawl your way back in and order a Bloody Mary.  The tomato juice will help balance out the acids in your stomach, helping you on your way to feeling normal again.  The Tobasco and Worchestershire will just take the shitty tomato juice taste off the tomato juice and the vodka is just a bonus.

Plink Plink Fizz.

Yup, the Alka Seltzer or the Andrews Liver Salts that everyone has in their house somewhere.  This is probably the best thing to do in all seriousness.  Alcohol causes dehydration, which is what gives you the headache and other shitty symptoms.  The fizzy slightly weird tasting solutions replace the salts that help hydration, and the water you need to take them with does the rest.  Team it up with a couple of Nurofen and Robert’s your Father’s brother.

Time travel.

Find yourself a mad white haired scientist, probably on Gumtree or Bendunne.com, and have him build you a time machine.  Then go back and stop yourself from coming up with a drinking game that involves playing Roxanne by The Police and throwing back a Goldschlager every time her name is sung.  If you time it correctly you’ll be able to visit yourself at the exact time that you convinced your conscience and your better judgement that making up the game “Whoever doesn’t finish their two Fat Frogs in under a minute is a gay burlesque rent boy” was not just a great idea, but will be remembered by history.  At least that way you won’t wake up face down in a urinal with no recollection of why there’s a condom between your bum cheeks.

Ew, there's probably old cigarette ends in that

The usual.

Who are we kidding?  You’re going to call in sick to work and sit on the couch in your duvet with nothing but closed curtains and remote controls around you.  Inbetween texts to equally hungover friends saying that you’ll never drink again, you’ll secretly be waiting for the right moment to reply with “Curer?  Ten minutes?  See you there, bring the Buckeroo”.

Never drink again?  Don’t be a silly sausage.