Back in July, 21-year-old singer Rihanna was spotted inking up some others at East Side Ink tattoo parlor in the East Village. The problem is that's not legal when you aren't licensed. As a result, the New York City Department of Health and Mental Hygiene has slapped the already battered singer with a citation. Her punishment: a $2,000 fine and 10 minutes alone in a room with Chris Brown.

Driving along the other day, I saw something that I think I'd never seen before. It was so mundane, yet it never occurred to me that I'd never seen it before until I saw it. Still with me?

Anyway, the thing in question: an ice cream truck filling up at a gas station.

Isn't that odd? You go your whole life experiencing something, and somehow your mind treats that thing as if it exists OUTSIDE of the logic and rules that applies to the rest of us. An ice cream truck needing fuel. Simple. Logical. And yet, downright bizarre. It's like finding out that your parents have an active sex life. You know it had to happen at least ONCE (or however many times, depending on how many siblings you have), but try to picture it. You can't, can you? Probably because your brain doesn't WANT to for fear it will melt, but still...

Or to take it further; it's like finding out your teacher uses douche. Back when you were a schoolkid, didn't you all but assume your teacher just wasn't a real being? After all, you only experienced your teacher within the boundaries of school. At the most, you probably assumed she just LIVED at school. Hell, if you knew me when I was 8, and you told me my teacher was in fact a robot, and after 3pm rolled around and we'd all gone home, the janitor flicked a switch behind her hair and wheeled her into a closet, I would not have found a problem with that theory AT ALL. But then Saturday rolls around and you're at your CVS, minding your business but who should you see in the feminine hygiene aisle..."Mrs. Blumenthal??"

Blumenthal...that seems to be a name that kind of seals your professional fate, doesn't it? You never hear about the Adventures of Captain Blumenthal and his Screaming Justice Rangers, or John Blumenthal, Trailblazing Civil Rights Champion - or even Harvey Blumenthal, Porn Icon - but say you have an appointment with Doctor Seth Blumenthal, Long Island-based podiatrist. Better make sure you find the one who has YOUR chart...  

 Scientists say poor dental hygiene boosts the risk of heart attacks and strokes.  In related news, four members of the British Parliament and a member of the Royal family suffered heart attacks yesterday.

DENTISTS GROUP VOTES TO BAN D-CUP HYGIENISTS

CHICAGO. The American Dental Association yesterday issued the results of a ten-year study indicating that patients whose teeth are cleaned by women with large breasts receive less information about proper dental care than those who are treated by small-breasted women. The professional organization voted to ban women who wear size D-cup bras or larger from employment as hygienists out of concern for the nation's dental health.

"Ah cant unnerstan wut your sayin."

"Because hygienists typically press their mammary glands into patients' ears while cleaning teeth, the size of their hooters is a critical factor in the quantity and quality of information that Americans receive about proper dental care," said Harris Grover, D.M.D., a dentist with a practice in Winnetka, Illinois and the ADA's president-elect.

Grover:  "I used to play 'dental hygiene' when I was a kid."

Grover cited the results of the study which indicate a wide variation in information received by patients depending upon the size of the hygienist's breast pressed up against their heads, usually covering an ear. "When a hygienist says 'The tissue is a little red around this back molar', patients' ability to hear and understand the statement was greatly impaired at higher breast circumferences," he noted. "A patient with an A-cup hygienist hears clearly 100% of the time. A patient with a B-cup hygienist understands the sentence as 'I missed you in my little bed this morning.' A C-cup produces the garbled phrase 'At issue is a skittle's head with black polar.'"

The flatter the better, says the ADA.

At D-cup level, the hygienist's words are completely unintelligible, with one patient repeating them as "But soft--what light from yonder window breaks?"

"She's got a balcony you could do Shakespeare from."

The ban will not preclude "full-figured" women from working as receptionists or file clerks in dentists' offices, and the ADA said they would do everything possible to ensure that no displaced hygienist lost her job. "These women are not just good for your teeth, they're easy on the eyes," Grover indicated. "I make enough money so that I don't have to be surrounded by flat-chested broads all day."

Copyright 2006, Con Chapman

Anyone who has ever had sex will tell you, it’s much better without the condom, No matter how thin, no matter how lubed, no matter what animal skin, it’s just not the same.

Without the condom, you connect with your lover in a passionate way. You feel him, he feels you, your bodies are moving in motion....

However huge down side to this condom-free loving is STD’s, and I’m not a big fan of having anything oozing, scratching, burning or worse – so I got the bright idea to try a new form of contraceptive, the insert.

You’ve walked by the insert in the feminine hygiene aisle, may have heard about in health class, maybe even contemplated it yourself but I’m here to tell you don’t try it.

I figured the insert was better than the pull out method; the insert would catch any little strays that got away from the pack. The insert would allow for total enjoyment and not some messy clean up process..... and things actually started out great.

We were in the midst of passion, oohing and awing, sweating in satisfaction. He’s looking at me. I’m looking at him, intent on pleasuring one another then he whispers “baby I’m on fire”

To which I think baby you are, but he meant literally as in halt scene, stop action, and him running to the bathroom.

It seems that my lover was having an allergic reaction to the insert. One that led to the burning, oozing, and scratching and honestly you never ever want to be that GIRL.

He’s in the bathroom for several minutes, trying to wash the insert off, trying to get rid of the burning sensation and it calms a bit until he tries to pee.

This was probably the worst sex moment ever. The moment your lover is trying to pee and it’s worse than passing gall bladder stones, he shrieks in pain. I wince in horror.

He comes out of the bathroom, frantic looking for a number on the box. Re-reads the contents carefully seeing if there was a hidden warning that he missed, I missed. And then as if it couldn’t get any worse he calls his friend. Not just any friend, a friend that I’m supposed to meet later that night the doctor friend.

A doctor friend confirms that he’s having an allergic reaction and it’s probably in his urethral canal and, it needs to flush its way out-

I thought “great no problem”

He was thinking more of the fiery hell he experienced each time he peed.

And really nothing will ever prepare you for being that girl.... The one that broke a guy’s dick. No matter how many fights you have, how many I hate you’s, how many nights of crappy sex when you thought “is this it”.....nothing prepares you for this moment.

The moment you walk into a room, meet all of his friends and they all know the story, snickers behind your back, questioning eyes as if sex with me was worth it. So I put on a happy face, knew that everyone was talking about me saw my lover in pain for the next several hours and tried to keep him happy and drunk....neither worked.

Needless to say it was the last time we were together.

So please take heed.....insert is bad, condom not so good but the alternatives are far worse.

 It is often said that New York City has everything imaginable, but there is one thing that great metropolis lacks: public toilets.  Most people never realize that until nature calls, at which point there is an imaginative scramble to find the nearest (and cleanest...and safest) restroom.  In the touristy areas, this is not a problem – the big hotels have restrooms across their lobbies and/or conference room floors and it is too easy to wander in to use the facilities without generating suspicion.  But in residential areas, that’s another story.

U.S. NEWS TO ADD LEG, ARMPIT HAIR TO "BEST COLLEGE" RANKINGS

WASHINGTON, D.C.  Responding to criticism from elite institutions of higher learning, U.S. News & World Report today announced that it would include female leg and armpit hair as a factor in its annual ranking of the best American colleges.

"We have been rightfully chastised for focusing on trivial measures such as the number of books in a school's library, or its student-faculty ratio," said Robert Flanigan, managing editor of the newsweekly that has turned its ratings of colleges, hospitals and mutual funds into a profitable sideline.  "You should probably know what the word 'chastise' means if you want to get into a good school," he added.

The decision placated faculty at several colleges that had refused to participate in the survey because of its focus on raw data over subjective indicators.  "There is no more accurate sign of a school's academic rigor than the unwillingness of its female students to shave their legs and armpits," said JoEllen Murada, First Deputy Assistant Vice Provost-Elect of Stanford University.  "'Placate' means: (a) to soothe or mollify, (b) to remove scales from a fish, or (c) an almond-flavored custard," she asked rhetorically.

Mary Ellen Robinson, head of the American Association of University Women, said she was bemused by the magazine's decision.  "Why isn't there a comparable index for male students?" she asked, adding "'bemused' means I'm confused, not laughing."

Flanigan responded that U.S. News would welcome input from female faculty and administrators but that standards applicable to one sex did not necessarily produce useful information when applied to the other.  "Poor hygiene in males appears to be independent of I.Q.," he noted.  "If that's one of your criteria, Harvard would be full of Bruins fans."

Schools where sororities are a prominent feature of campus life were caught off guard by the decision, and student leaders vowed to assist in the recruitment of women who could boost their colleges' academic standing.  "I'm going to go out and beat the bushes to find some weird girls to bring our average up," said Cyndi Lynn Anthony, a Chi Omega at the University of Missouri.  "Just as soon as I get through plucking my eyebrows."

Copyright 2006, Con Chapman

Tightening airport security

Greetings everyone from Nassau! Not county, silly geese, the island in the Bahamas! This is a special island, because you can get rum cheap AND you can get bored in under 2 minutes!

But wait, it’s hot! Really hot! Like space-shuttle-with-faulty-panels hot.

Maybe Mr. Black-as-a-Bob-Marley-album taxi driver can give you a ride to a beach for $6/person which is walking distance away?! “It’s a deal mon!" Just for you and da famil-ee! I show you da sites! The aqua colored water, the palm trees, the big pink hotel! Ooooooooooo!!!! Holy shit mon!! Statue of Liberty who? Empire State Building wha?? You guys have a casino? Wow!!! Hey mon, you got yet them crazy inventions down here on da island known as air conditioning or deodorant?

Luckily you can get souvenirs! These islands specialize in t-shirts, 25 for $10, hmmmm, is that a scam? I dunno. They’re not gonna shrink are they? “Oh nooooo mon! Dey won't shrink.” Please, I bought one once. An XL. I got back to my cruise ship and it was a medium. I got home, it was a tissue.

People get all crazy going to the Caribbean. It’s beaches, with blue, calm water, and people who should never, ever, EVER, never wear bikinis. There’s one main drag for souvenirs that you’ll wish you never bought thirty seconds after you get home, and if you eat the jerk chicken well... I’m sure these island people with no shoes, no hygiene, and no storm windows really care about poultry disinfection.

Onto the last island. A huge jungle. Crazy natives. Death at every turn. There are Queens, peasants, and food that won’t give me diarrhea for a month. That’s right, Manhattan. And you know what? When I get in the cab? Same stinking, scamming guy!!!

Home sweet home, mon.