I Refuse to Stop Pleasuring Myself to Christina Aguilera

Ever since that "Candyman" video started showing everywhere in the free world, my body has been working overtime to replenish the copious amounts of DNA I've spilled watching this goddam thing. Not to mention the irreparable damage to the ligaments up and down my arm. Oy.

Thing is, it's not even that sexy a video. In fact, with all those goofy-ass guys marching around in uniform, it practically defies the cardinal rule of jerk-off videos (which dictates that you don't want to risk some dude's greasy mug being onscreen when you reach "the magic point").

I think it's just the ultra-bimbo-ish-ness of Christina that's got me hooked. I mean, Britney tries hard, with all that boob-flailing and ass-grinding, but you just know that Christina's the one she turns to for blowjob pointers or to borrow something exceptionally slutty for the next red carpet event.

Honestly, I don't care that her music's the aural equivalent of a root canal. That's what the mute button is for. My god, have we learnt nothing from the Spanish Channel?