Which
brings me to one of the most common medical inquiries I receive in
combat: "How the hell am I supposed to jack off up in this
motherfucker?"
Whether
you're in the military of civilian sector, many of you will be faced
with this problem, and I want you to benefit from the cumulative
experience of the bold young Americans of the Marine Corps infantry.
Collectively, they have MacGyvered themselves out of scenarios that you
and I have never even dreamt of, and I don't want you to feel stuck when
a solution has already been devised, implemented, revised, and
optimized.
I present
to you a series of real-life scenarios that Marines and sailors in my
infantry battalion have faced over the past several years, as well as
the field-tested solutions they devised to handle each one. None of what
follows is hypothetical. All have been successfully completed, and I
have even witnessed a few of the outcomes. Following each solution, I
present a rub (or friction point) that I hope you might avoid as you
negotiate your own obstacles.
Scenario #1
You are
embarked on a naval vessel and you decide to masturbate while in bed.
Unfortunately, you lack the traditional "happy sock" in which you would
normally deposit your ejaculate. Climax is imminent. Where will you
deposit your knuckle babies?
Field-tested solution:
Simply push the covers down to your thighs, roll over onto a hip, and
ejaculate away from the wall and into the aisle between your bed and
others' beds.
The rub:
The beds, or racks, in the enlisted berthing areas of most naval
vessels are disparagingly called "coffin racks" because they are tiny
and arranged in columns of five. They are also in aisles so densely
packed that any semen arcing down from your rack will be in plain sight
to up to 30 of your comrades. This was the experience of the top-rack
user in this scenario. Needless to say, he was immediately put to work
cleaning the decks.
Scenario #2
You are in
the shower aboard a naval vessel and decide to masturbate. You wish to
avoid a repeat of yesterday's mishap when a senior-ranking member
noticed the jellyfish turds on your shower shoes—evidence of reckless
ejaculation. Climax is imminent. Where will you deposit your tub babies?
Field-tested solution:
One may square one's shoulders to the bulkhead (shipboard term for
"wall") and from near point-blank range be rather certain that the
entire load is safely deposited on the bulkhead, away from one's shower
shoes. Leaving it on the bulkhead is the most reliable way to ensure
containment.
The rub:
There is a special place in hell reserved for you. You will eternally
clean the floors in a demonic porn theater where all the films feature
old women doing Swedish drill and where everlasting ropes of electrified
jizz will lash your back as you squeegee the tiles around your laughing
patrons' frozen, hooved feet.
Scenario #3
You are on a
defensive overwatch post at night, alone in your shallow fighting hole,
maintaining a vigilant defensive posture upon which your sleeping
comrades' safety depends. After hours of darkness and only periodic
radio checks, you grow sleepy and need to restore your alertness.
Field-tested solution: One may restore alertness by masturbating furiously while on post.
The rub:
Masturbating while on post is frowned upon and considered a dereliction
of duty. That radio you have been periodically using to check in with
the Combat Operations Center (COC) should be kept handy during your
revival jerk, but you should be careful not to press the button
that transmits audio. If you do accidentally lean on the talk button
while jerking, then all your slapping and panting will be transmitted to
all the other radios currently being operated on your channel. There
will be many. Because you cannot receive transmissions while
broadcasting your emissions, nobody can alert you via radio and someone
from the COC will have to check post-by-post to find the offending jerk
artist. He will be unhappy with you once you meet.
Scenario #4
You are in a
mine-resistant, ambush-protected vehicle (MRAP) maintaining night-time
overwatch of a critical piece of ground and your crew of four is growing
bored and tired. You wish to restore your vigilance by masturbating,
but do not want to jerk it in a vehicle full of dudes.
Field-tested solution: Everyone jerks; nobody talks.
The rub:
If anyone talks, the spell is broken, and in the minds of its
passengers the MRAP is transformed into a Castro Street bathhouse, and a
gay panic ensues. To avoid inconvenient urges to speak, you may listen
to an iPod or other media device. If you do not have one of your own,
ask nicely and someone may give you one of his ear buds. It is not
recommended that you critique the song choice under any circumstance.
Like in commuter slugging, all goodwill depends on your silent
acceptance.
Scenario #5
You have been doing an awful lot of jerking in the MRAP, and you're curious just how much fluid loss you are experiencing.
Field-tested solution:
One may store many days' worth of ejaculate in a Dasani water bottle.
These bottles are amazingly crush-resistant and allow easy viewing of
your accumulated seed swamp.
The rub:
The 115-degree air temperature and the astounding radiant heat absorbed
by your little greenhouse bottle cause ghastly curdling and vapor
production that is most apparent when climax is imminent and you choose
to open the bottle. You and your friends' progress to orgasm is
repeatedly thwarted by the rancid fumes of your improperly stored
juices.
Scenario #6
You have
forcibly secured a hostile walled agricultural compound and established a
forward fighting position that serves as the living quarters for 200
men. They frequently decide to masturbate and wish to have a relatively
private place to do so.
Field-tested solution:
One may designate any room or crudely constructed booth as a "jack
shack." The most effective procedure for establishing a jack shack is to
(1) ensure no other function has been assigned to the space; (2) make a
sign that says "jack shack"; (3) make a flippable sign that reads
"vacant" on one side and "jerkin' it" on the other; (4) hang the signs;
(5) jerk it.
The rub:
As you somehow approach orgasm while surrounded by fleas, goat
droppings, and untold zillions of camel spiders, and even though the
space is clearly labeled and you have turned the sign to the "jerkin'
it" setting, some dumbass may still barge in and say, "Oh shit, I didn't
know that was serious." A temporary fix for this is to add a quick "no,
really" to the "jerkin' it" sign.
Scenario #7
During a
winter night in a defensive position in Afghanistan, you do not wish to
leave the warmth of your sleeping bag to masturbate in the remote,
frigid, infested jack shack. Perseverant, you decide to masturbate.
Unfortunately, you lack the traditional "happy sock" in which you would
normally deposit your ejaculate. Climax is imminent. Where will you
deposit your knuckle babies?
Field-tested solution #1: One can remove his polar-fleece beanie hat and use it to catch and isolate his load from his body and bedding.
The rub #1:
Laundry is nigh-impossible; it's below freezing everywhere you go; and
you're going to want to wear the hat. If you choose the warmth of the
beanie, you must choose whether to wear your beanie butter side up or
butter side down. Your choice will either publicize your perversion or
test the limits of just how dirty your hair can become.
Field-tested solution #2:
If one is particularly thin in stature and confident in his muzzle
velocity, he may choose to simply jizz into the far distant regions of
his sleeping bag and sleep soundly in an isolated zone of the bag that
is calculated to be semen-free.
The rub #2:
In an infantry unit, everyone is issued a sleeping bag—nearly all of
them used. While talking loosely about your new technique, you confirm
the blood-curdling fears of everyone else who sleeps in previously
issued gear. You will single-handedly crush the morale of your unit for
no less than eight days and nights.
Scenario #8
You are
minding your own business, squatting on your haunches for a quick rest
between moving crates of supplies. You have not masturbated very
recently, nor do you plan to. Yet upon standing, your flaccid penis
erupts with semen, and the new sogginess in your pants is not even
accompanied by an orgasm. This also happened the last time you took a
nice big shit.
Field-tested solution:
One may present to medical with the chief complaint of "when I shit, I
nut," and the doctor soon names your condition "defectory ejaculosis."
The rub:
To rule out the most likely reason for semen in the toilet in the
absence of an orgasm, the doctor must ask about sexual practices. He
suspects that your section chief is in fact the love child of a hickory
tree and a bulldozer. This will remain an open question until five of
your buddies develop the same symptoms and experience immediate,
synchronous resolution when you run out of a weightlifting nutritional
supplement that you have all been sharing. Your doctor alerts the
supplement manufacturer of their potential side effect of unprovoked
jizzbombs.
Scenario #9
You have
worked 200 consecutive 18-hour days without a beer or a hug or real
contact with anyone you love. You're sick of it, and routine
masturbation has grown stale. You need a new form of stimulation or
you're going to flip the fuck out.
Field-tested solution #1:
Using simple procedure available on YouTube, one can MacGyver a water
bottle, a glove from a first-aid kit, a sock, and a dollop of lube from a
corpsman's pack to create a field-expedient pocket pussy.
The rub #1:
There you are, standing on one bare foot, stuffing your johnson into a
mangled plastic bottle with loose fittings and sharp edges, doing all
this under threat of attack and with no real end in sight. It is at this
moment that you may gain a poignant disgust for the life choices that
led you here. The experience of employing your field-expedient pocket
pussy may be more of a downer than you had planned.
Field-tested solution #2:
One may choose to locate the comrade who, with great foresight, packed a
slick silicon replica of a vulva and vagina—a true store-bought pocket
pussy—and respectfully ask to borrow it. Astounding to outsiders, but
reasonable to those who have been in the situation, your buddy may
permit you to defile his precious.
The rub #2:
Your buddy has many buddies, and in a bind up to 12 buddies have been
reported to knowingly share one communal pocket pussy. This relationship
may suddenly develop an emotional component when one of you falls ill.
Whether it was Dengue fever, malaria, or appendicitis that caused your
buddy's feverish vomiting and hospitalization, someone will likely tell
the group, "Don't worry, it was just real bad syphilis."
In closing,
I hope this data may contribute to advances in the field of
masturbation that will afford warfighters, missionaries, and scientists
alike a higher quality of life when working in austere conditions.
Ideally, members of other communities will rally behind this salvo by
publishing data gathered from austere workplaces such as forestry
preserves, archaeological excavation sites, oil rigs, space stations,
and Boy Scout camp. It is only through such military-civilian dialogue
that we may disseminate our advances in technique, forged of ingenuity
and tempered in sacrifice, in order build a more perfect world.
The
pseudonymous Dr. Watts joined the Navy in 2006 during medical school and
is still serving with the Marine Corps infantry. He enjoys hunting for
residency programs, reading about the Afghanistan force draw-down,
stitching hand lacerations, and teaching Marines about their foot rot.
His last piece for Deadspin was about blood.
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