Subscribe

Five tips for taking the perfect dick pic

BELIEVE the only reason you’re not winning women over with your dick pics is the lack of artistry? Follow these tips to become the David Bailey of the penis portrait: 

Add a misleading item for scale

Perspective is key in photography and your paltry five inches won’t impress her alone, so cheat a bit. A fun-size Mars Bar in a full-size wrapper, placed coincidentally alongside, will convince her you’re packing a proper fanny-splitter. Though may also cause her to refuse any offers of snacks when you get back to yours.

Focus correctly

A blurry bellend isn’t going to win any love, but pin-sharp with every vein visible doesn’t make it look attractive. Focus on the foreground and let your member tower in mid-focus, smoothing its true beauty, by using a wide aperture. But avoid making any ‘wide aperture’ jokes when explaining the technicalities of the shoot.

Beware of backgrounds

As any Reader’s Wives reader knows, a sexy shot can be ruined by the background of a cheap formica kitchen. A tight crop on your leathery eel is essential. A messy bedroom, filthy bathroom or television clearly showing an Inbetweeners repeat in the background will undermine the effect.

Filter it

Don’t be afraid to Photoshop your pasty-looking todger into something more alluring. A sunset filter gives your wank-handle that Ibiza glow, or frames it in that vintage style so popular with the sophisticated. That she will then confront the raw, unfiltered real thing with horror is her problem.

Send multiple shots

Real photographers snap away constantly, knowing that 300 shots are necessary to get one that captures the subject’s true beauty. Do the same. Offer your paramour a choice of angles by presenting a genital montage such as would be presented at a Mapplethorpe exhibition at Tate Modern. However, be aware this does present a wealth of evidence should she contact the police.

Sign up now to get
The Daily Mash
free Headlines email – every weekday
privacy

The Cure, and six other bands for grumpy indie dads

A CERTAIN strain of indie appears custom-engineered for miserable middle-aged men to scowl at behind the wheel on the school run. If that’s you then you love these: 

The Cure

On the outside, Grumpy Indie Dad is all Next shirts and V-neck sweaters. On the inside, he’s a raging goth in a perpetual state of self-indulgent misery. The average Cure song perfectly captures the feelings he has when sitting through Michael McIntyre’s Big Show: existential dread and a painful awareness of his one precious life slipping through his fingers.

The National

Seeing a greying beard in the mirror is dispiriting and adulthood is a never-ending tsunami of social anxiety; it’s as if The National have read Grumpy Indie Dad’s mind. Matt Berninger writes lyrics so that Dad never has to reveal what he’s really thinking, which is good because he’s gone off talking since he turned 40.

Wilco

Wilco rejected mainstream commercialism in much the same way as Grumpy Indie Dad goes out of his way to reject grinding suburban happiness. Why should he see joy in the small moments of everyday life? ‘There is something wrong with me,’ sings Dad as he spends yet another Wednesday driving his kids to and from clubs they don’t even like.

Pixies

With their quiet-loud-quiet dynamics, no band more accurately reflects the mood of Grumpy Indie Dad. First an ambiguous stare into the middle distance. Next, an explosion of rage and a cry of ‘Get your bloody shoes on! Shoes, not Crocs!’ Finally, a retreat into the silence of shame and nursed resentment.

Joy Division

A Mr Grumpy T-shirt simply doesn’t do justice to Grumpy Indie Dad’s innate sense of despair. Listen to the first minute of Joy Division’s Colony. That’s what the inside of his head sounds like when he’s picking coats up off the floor and flushing away his children’s turds.

The Horrors

A band that broke through 15 years ago is Grumpy Indie Dad’s concession to ‘new music’. Lyrics such as ‘It’s a good life… until it’s gone,’ remind him of happier times, like when he lived alone in a squalid studio flat at the age of 23 and played Xbox from when he got in at 5.15pm to when he went to bed at 2.15am, pausing only to microwave a Rustlers.

Bon Iver

A bleak winter soundscape is the perfect antidote to two hours in a bright, noisy soft play centre. Bon Iver’s spiritual soul-searching taps into Grumpy Indie Dad’s certainty that there must be something more to life than this. Dragged against his will into the ball pool, he accepts there isn’t.

Next story ›