3d Dog Sex Rule 34
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3d Dog Sex Rule 34
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Because someone had to go out there and see exactly how depraved the Internet is.
Article
by Cassandra Khaw, Contributor
No, No, Internet. Just stop. It's cool that we all have different ways of getting freaky, that we're actively battling negative cultural homogeneity and just, you know, exploring the limits of human pleasure. But there are lines , Internet. Lines. Childhood cartoons, for example, should not be introduced to puberty. The name "Woody" shouldn't be a cringe-inducing double entendre. And, for god's sake, keep off my lawn and away from those Angry Birds.
There are few rules that the Internet operates by and one of them is Rule 34: If it exists, there is porn of it somewhere. But while some of it makes sense, others don't. I can see why Cloud and Tifa doing the horizontal mambo might be appealing but Lego loving just sounds like a terrible idea. But regardless of whether it's a product of specialized tastes, lolz or just continuity's sake, one thing's for certain: Rule 34 is, uh, an interesting component of modern society. And in celebration of Rule 34, here are ten games we really, really wish Rule 34 didn't bloody well apply to.
I suppose I could see how Diggles might be construed as sexy, what with their suggestive drill-snouts and penchant for digging into deep, dark dungeons. But I don't really get it. Is it the black, empty eyes peering vapidly into your soul? That flat, unpleasant yellow and appetite for violent death? The fact they sometimes show up with a coterie of equally bloodthirsty monstrosities? Is it just the principle of the matter? The Internet's compulsive need to satisfy the demands of Rule 34 regardless of the subject material? Why. My only consolation is that only one sexy Diggle was ever tattooed onto a dude's arm.
Why, Internet? Just why Since the Kerbal Space Program launched, hundreds of these big-eyed, oblong-skulled critters have been murdered. Isn't it enough that we subject them to unlicensed and certainly less-than-professional attempts at aerospace engineering? Must we also dictate the carnal rhythms of their personal lives? There's just so much wrong with the idea of Kerbals Gone Wild that I don't know where to start. Though, in retrospect, it might make sense if the Kerbal nation subscribed to today's YOLO pseudo-losophy. Why be a prude when your quality of life can be only be described as expendable?
No. No. NOPE. No. I like spiders. Like, I really do. I think most arachnids are adorable in a fluffy, I-will-drink-the-pulp-juice-of-your-heart-if-i-were-bigger sort of way. But Rule 34 shenanigans make me want to scrub my skin right off my flesh. Don't Starve, for all of its ostensible prettiness, is a dark place which requires you moderate your own insanity. Shadow-hands come creeping up at night to snatch away at your flames. This is Tim Burton's interactive semi-nightmare, I swear. As such, I find it deeply, irrevocably disturbing to have furry little spiders getting it on with a certain dead-eyed girl. No. Just stop. I used to like spiders. Don't take that away from me. No. No. NOPE.
Three guys and a girl. A post-apocalyptic setting. Morbidly obese zombies with cancerous growths ringing their skulls, a mutated smoker with an exorbitantly long tongue. You knew Rule 34 would be all over this. Weirdly, the idea of Left 4 Dead porn doesn't mortify me as much as I thought it would. Maybe, it's because I expected it. But that doesn't stop me from wanting to writhe really, really uncomfortably in my seat. No matter how you slice that block of moldy cheese, something absolutely weird is happening. I mean, ignoring the whole potential for necrophilia, the notion of the Survivors having wild monkey sex in the game's setting just flabbergasts me. Imagine if a Hunter decided to join in? What if a Jockey decided to take the wrong kind of ride? Why is this sexy again?! WHY .
Okay. Okay. What. Okay. It isn't even so much I wished this didn't exist as it is I wish I knew why. Or how. Unfortunately, I'm too much of a coward to go digging through the fetid bowels of the Internet for. (I know it exists because Twitter.) But, as a mental exercise, I find the contemplation of Super Hexagon lewdness a veritable work-out. How does it even function? Does it involve pulsating geometrical shapes? Is it audio? Is it someone recording their own lustful pants over Jenn Frank's calm, smooth voice? Does it involve weird transmedia performances involving said voice? How does this work? I - no, don't tell me.
So, you probably need to be a child of the 80's to be able to appreciate precisely why this is so phenomenally "TOTALLY NOT COOL BEANS AT ALL". Putt Putt was a car. A little, purple car with great big eyes and a bland smile. He starred in this edutainment series and was, by and large, a less aggravating version of Barney. He was nice. Really nice.
And his friends, of course. But, damn you, Internet. Is nothing remotely sacred? Putt Putt doesn't even have the right peripherals. Do what you like to the Transformers. But this was a car. From a children's game. I suppose the people responsible most likely did it for laughs. However, a morbid part of me is wondering: what if it was not? Because that is terrifying.
And that answered my question. No , nothing's sacred on the Internet. Poor Isaac, has he not had enough? I hate all of you. (I'm going to go bleach my eyes now, thank you.)
I - what? Look, these guys are balls. And by balls, I don't mean vital components of the male genitalia. Angry Birds? The pigs they're perpetually in combat with? Fluffy, circular objects which lack any limbs whatsoever. The fact that there were people out there who took both time and effort to attach additional organs to the menagerie neither shocks nor appalls me, honestly. It merely befuddles me. Bewilders me. I am flummoxed. Shellshocked. I am also unconvinced that Rule 34 was applied to Angry Birds for "lolz" sake alone. The sheer amount of explicit material connected to said poultry leads me to believe that someone is actually titillated by these images. If you are such a person, we are never joining in a communal Thanksgiving feast. Stay away from my turkey.
Words fail to accurately convey exactly how I feel about this. Let's begin with "mortally horrified". It's a good place to start. In some ways, I suppose, it makes a squicky kind of sense. Nintendogs does involve you systematically stroking your digital canine for hours on end. That, if nothing else, feels like the catalyst for a bawdy joke. And, well, people are notorious for taking certain jokes too far.
I saved the best for last. Yes, gentle readers. Tetris porn exists. In fact, it exists copiously, for some very peculiar reason. It could simply be a consequence of age. That or people just find the idea of geometrical (Hello, Super Hexagon?) shapes engaged in reproductive function very, very interesting? Whatever the case might be, the answer's yes. Yes, Rule 34 was applied to Tetris.
Now, hands up those of you who ran off to Google all of this.
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I just got home from work. I was tired and I just wanted to watch some movies. Hearing a scratching noise at the front door, I â of course â opened it. It was a large, dominant-looking German Shepherd. And he was hurt. Inviting him in was my first mistake. Even after tending to his wound, he wouldnât leave. He wanted something from me. And he wasnât about to leave until he got it. Excerpt: I invited him up on the sofa again and he nestled his muzzle on my lap. Together, we watched the show, but I noticed that after a while he started pressing his nose closer and closer to my quim. At first I thought he was just repositioning himself. But when I felt his cold nose press up under my skirt, I knew something was up. âWhat are you doing boy?â I laughed nervously. Here I was alone in my house with a large, strange dog who absolutely refused to leave. I don't know why but that thought caused a shiver to race up my spine. Who was this strange dog? And why was he in my house? I wished I could've asked him, but there was no way to communicate that to him. I tried to push his muzzle away, but he was adamant and very persistent. I gasped when his long, hot tongue grazed my pussy lips. I had never let any man get so close to me. That was the first contact outside of myself that I had ever felt down there.
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