Nothing exceeds like excess

If you think I'm the kind of person who would actually post a picture of someone with multiple disgusting and dangerous diseases on his dick, then you don't know me. No, it's Hedonism-Bot for you.

Why settle for something wimpy like crabs or syphilis when you can get genital herpes of the HPV of the gonorrhea of the lymphogranuloma venereum of the jock itch of the AIDS?

My theory -- which has been completely culled from the Simpsons, and is therefore fact -- is that  should your body become infected with enough diseases at once, they will, in their hurry to unpleasantly kill you, become stuck in the metaphorical doorway of your nervous system, perpetually trapped there and unable to harm you. The diseases, in effect, cancel each other out.

That, or you'll die in the most horrifically painful and violent way ever.

Either way, though, you'll look like a badass.

Don't make excuses

Should you find yourself in the unfortunate position of suffering from gonorrhea, don't admit that it was an "accident." Don't apologetically tell people that the condom "broke," or that you "forgot" to put one on in the first place. Just man the hell up and tell everyone that, so fearless a man are you, that you intentionally boned a dangerous-looking chick just to see if you could get one. This probably won't be true, of course, but it's nonetheless important that your family and co-workers don't feel sorry for you during your time of painful urination and burning pubic hairs. Better that they think you insane and fearless rather than foolhardy and stupid, right?

Being a man means never having to say you're sorry, or that you were in such a rush to get your rocks off that you busted the condom while getting it on and didn't care enough to try on another one.

Don't get the clap -- it hurts the war effort

Any excuse to post these awesome wartime propaganda posters. It seems that during any war of any era, every nation's generals have a very similar, very short list of concerns:

1. Spies infiltrating our ranks and divulging information to the enemy

2. Our soldiers getting crabs.

Kind of odd how war puts things in perspective, isn't it?

Quarantine? More like orgy-tine.

Let's think worst case scenario: you're terminal, and every person you'd had sex with prior to finding out is terminal as well. In order to prevent the spread of whichever deadly STD you all received, you all must be either quarantined, castrated, or killed. Castration and death are possibly the two worst things which can happen to a man (in that order), so we'll opt for quarantine.

Now, you're in a facility, living with a terminal disease, alongside a bunch of women who have the same terminal disease and therefore a doomed lust for life they never had before. One guy, a dozen women, and the end of the world at hand? That can only mean one thing -- massive gangbanging. 

Assuming you haven't contracted one of those horribly disfiguring STDs which makes your genitals look like rotten hamburger, and assuming you can convince the women who you infected/infected you of the upside to their situation, you're looking at a good few months or years of consequence-free sex with a significant number of people. Think about it; you'll be able to sleep with a bunch of chicks, and never have to use a condom again. And when you do eventually die, you'll do so with a smile on your face -- most men can't even dream of going out so well.