7 Sexy Japanese Game Shows That Will Make You Hate Sex
So maybe it's a little unfair that we Americans keep pointing out how odd the Japanese can be regarding sexuality, especially considering the inspiration for their blurred moneyshotting, bug-eyed-cartoon-schoolgirl-loving, tentacle-centric proclivities doesn't come entirely from within. But it would be just as unfair to completely ignore the reality of the situation, since being "well-informed" obviously means staying on the bleeding edge of societal deviancy at all times. For instance, did you know that right now the purest distillation of the existential horror that passes for boner fuel in Japan isn't found in their pornography, animated or otherwise? Turns out it's in their game shows.
By the way, in case it wasn't obvious, a lot of this is just stupidly NSFW.
Spread Your Legs For Fun And Profit
On your mark, get set, OH SWEET JESUS HOW ARE THEY DOING THAT?
I don't speak Japanese, so I won't pretend to be able to give you a precise play-by-play on what exactly happened there. At least there's a sign in the background that lets us know that these women were trying to accomplish a "world record" of some sort. Were they holding time trials for a new, shamefully gratuitous Paralympics event? Or maybe that tentacle fetish thing has finally come full circle and now they're cross-breeding women with actual squid?
I assume that mat was heavily treated with a mixture of Tinactin and Pam prior to the event.
Since both women got to their feet for a post-race interview, we can probably assume they're actually not handicapped. Apparently they were merely simulating two icebound paraplegics trying to evade a walrus attack. Sanitary concerns aside, winner and loser alike appear positively giddy afterward, despite having just engaged in an activity that seems more like a documentary on vaginal demon possession than any recognized sport.
The Exorcist 4: Pazuzu's All Up In Your Vajayjay
At least the winner got a Guinness World Record out of the deal (and was hired to star in the creepiest milk commercial of all time). That's more than we can say for the next group, unless there's some award for how quickly and effectively young women can make their parents sob uncontrollably while wondering where, exactly, things went so horribly wrong.
If fastening ball gags to Hello Kitty dolls is your thing, this should also serve quite nicely.
The gist here is, a bevy of coquettishly costumed, tee-heeing girls are attached to a ThighMaster/medieval interrogation contraption, then somebody spins a wheel to decide how far their legs will be mechanically forced apart amid an accompanying chorus of high-decibel screech-giggling. You're goddamn right it's sexy -- especially if your turn-ons include cellar-wall-mounted hitchhiker restraints and moth husbandry.
The Wheel Of Chlamydia might be just the boost Game Show Network needs to break free from the pack.
What the winner of this apparent human-trafficking audition receives in terms of compensation is unclear, although an engraved, glitter-encrusted bronze speculum seems appropriate. At least she'll surely be given a sizable bump in her starting bid once the next underground auction rolls around.
Congratulations! Your inflammation can be easily treated with a daily regimen of antibiotics!
Endure Pain For Titties
Japan is famous for its game shows that seem to be thinly disguised excuses for inflicting Geneva Conventions violation-level abuse on the contestants. One would hope there's a decent reward to be had for participating in these shows -- either a cash prize or maybe the promise to release a family member from captivity. But apparently there are a few shows where the players are willing to put themselves through the equivalent of a long weekend in Abu Ghraib with Liam Neeson's character from Taken for a whole lot less (or more, depending on their level of social inadequacy): the chance to see some titties.
Let's begin with this offering, where some dudes attach clamps to their nose, nipples, and eyelids, then try to pull off ladies' bras.
This is still easier than the one-hand-behind-the-back trick.
After several failures, one man finds the key to success is to secure clips to every available part of the head, to include the ears, nostrils, and lips, and is finally victorious in unleashing some boob. While I don't want to imply that his fortitude was anything less than exemplary, it still should be pointed out that his efforts may have been assisted in no small amount by the woman's choice of attire -- a dominatrix-style, possibly edible outfit with a level of structural integrity similar to Janet Jackson's floppity flapjack Super Bowl ensemble.
Unlike Mr. Timberlake, this guy isn't holding back from expressing his terrified revulsion.
And then there's this bullshit.
MmmmmmmMMMBOOP!
In this game of human shuffleboard, the player attempts to slide himself as close as possible to a woman's bikini'd mammaries without actually making contact. He does, of course, at which point he is subjected to electric shock. It's basically what they did to Alex in A Clockwork Orange, but with a studio audience and presumably lovely parting gifts.
How Many Coins Can You Catch With Your Greedy, Greedy Boobs?
Don't you hate it when you're vacationing in Las Vegas, playing the slot machines while wearing nothing but a string bikini, and then all of a sudden you hit the jackpot and have no choice but to try to catch all the cascading coins in the gap between your jiggling boobs? If you think that sounds like an unlikely scenario anywhere besides the sweaty imaginings of a lonely Scrooge McDuck, then you haven't been watching enough Japanese television.
Tollbooth employees are the scourge of most gentlemen's clubs.
For all those outraged over the rampant sexism on American television, you really haven't seen anything until you've watched women objectified to the point of turning them into disposable casino nickel buckets. Adding to the degradation, everyone in the clip seems somewhat nervous and unsure of how they even wound up there, with the forced smiles and uncomfortably long eye contact with the camera that's typical in the kind of movies in which Ron Jeremy shows up at the door with a pizza.
He's hilarious until you realize there's a 12.5 percent chance he's had sex with your mother.
If you pay attention, even the background music (an overdubbed Japanese version of Every Breath You Take by The Police) evokes the grimly depressing atmosphere of a city-limits strip bar during lunch on a Wednesday. But really, what better sign could there be for the Japanese economy than the emergence of a trend like yen bukkake?
The Nikkei Index is on the rise, if you know what I mean.
Whoever's Better At Blowjobs Doesn't Have To Eat Vermin
At least this show puts on a pretense of decency, despite what appears to be its true, underlying theme: "Should your fellatio skills prove unsatisfactory, you will be punished by having to inhale a cockroach."
The referee is on hand to ensure that the roach's erection didn't come
as a result of performance-enhancing drugs.
While there are no revealing outfits or pruriently leering hosts here, one still gets the sense that they're probably bearing witness to something profoundly obscene. There is real, palpable fear on the faces of the girls (and presumably the roach) as they struggle determinedly to demonstrate their oral prowess, while the threat of eventually having to swallow something alive, yet considered by many to be distasteful and vile, hangs in the balance.
Hopefully she doesn't jerk away, since she would probably like it even less if it got in her hair.
This clip perfectly encapsulates the unique Japanese ability to combine cloying, saccharine cuteness with the brutal savagery of mankind's most base desires. Though one girl did succeed in propelling a cockroach into her opponent's windpipe, there are no winners here. Unless you count the cockroach itself, which was finally freed from serving as a pawn to man's eternal, pointless struggle to find meaning in a meaningless world.
If this wasn't symbolic of women's subservience to the patriarchy,
then why did they use a cockroach and not a ladybug?
Sing Karaoke While Getting A Handjob
Karaoke-based game shows apparently enjoy some sort of niche popularity, since they seem to keep popping up whenever there's a midseason-replacement crisis or an empty "Aw, fuck it. Why not?" slot in the network lineup. The most recent trend in this genre sees the contestants undergo some sort of challenging distraction while they perform, such as having the lyrics on the teleprompter taken away or having to remain within 20 yards of Steve-O.
Over in Japan, however, they've taken the concept of flustering the contestants to an extreme that seems almost unimaginable, unless you've been to a bachelor party where all the attendees and staff were on some kind of sex-offender registry.
The show is called Sing What Happens, and the object of the game is to try to maintain your singing focus while a hot, fake nurse is giving you a handjob.
Or she could be an actual medical professional. I don't want to jump to conclusions.
That's about it. There's no criteria where you're judged on how lovely your singing voice is or how well you emote the pathos expressed in the original version of the song. You merely have to avoid warbling off into a delirious series of groans and finish the thing, before, you know ... your thing finishes.
Hospitals are constantly testing new ways to make the catheter insertion process less intrusive.
Sadly, although there's a red curtain concealing all the furious digital dink manipulation, it's doubtful that something like this would be picked up by an American network. Well, unless they incorporate Amish alien beauty pageant toddlers into it somehow and put it on TLC, I guess.
The Human Slip 'N Slide
OK, there's "gratuitous," and then there's "let's lube up a balding, middle-aged man and have him low-crawl over a bunch of girls in bikinis." Here's the latter:
It takes him a few tries before he can traverse the entirety of the fleshy minefield of greased-up nubiles (who are all probably about the same age as his horrified grandchildren), and at exactly no point does he appear to be enjoying himself. If "erotic" is what they're going for here, I'd say they missed the mark by a pretty wide margin. It seems more like the poor man is being cruelly forced to relive a recurring impotency nightmare as public humiliation for his recent onset of andropause.
The Bushido code tolerates no weakness in either fighting spirit or penile rigidity.
But the man's torment doesn't end there. Our aging contestant is next paired with a younger competitor, and the still-slippery ladies begin forcing rubber balls down both of their shorts. As if this symbolic demonstration of his shameful inadequacy wasn't enough, the scene degenerates into the younger man pelting him with the balls, while the young women look on and laugh. He feebly attempts to return fire, but disgrace appears to have extinguished any residual enthusiasm.
The man's harrowing ordeal is finally brought to an end as the young women tackle him to the ground and tickle him into tearful submission, while the host and the younger man toss buckets full of an unknown fluid onto the writhing mass of skin and sadness. At some point the younger man's pants come off, and the passing of dominance from one generation to the next is complete.
These Calvin Klein underwear ads just keep getting more and more inscrutable.
Battle Of The Blowjobs
Outside Paul Lynde's epic performances on Hollywood Squares and Anderson Cooper's appearances on Celebrity Jeopardy, there hasn't been much openly homosexual representation in the world of game shows. But we're well into a brand-new millennium now, so why the hell wouldn't a major network air a prime-time competition that features a male porn star trying to keep from blowing his load for as long as possible while a flamboyant, portly gentleman tries to suck the proverbial chrome off his trailer hitch?
Orgasm Wars puts a reportedly straight veteran of adult films to what seems to be a simple challenge: hold back from climaxing while receiving fellatio from some random dude in a filthy warehouse. The "professional" in question is a man highly confident in his abilities, as is befitting of a seasoned practitioner of his chosen craft.
So you've done this before?
His cocksuredness only grows, once he comes face-to-face with the fellow who has been assigned to perform the grunt work: a husky, bearded man who swishes into the room and introduces himself as the owner of a gay-district bar called "Cholesterol." The professional seems amused at the challenger's appearance and mannerisms, blithely ignoring the deadly seriousness in his opponent's steely gaze.
"Have you ever heard the expression 'more cushion for the pushin'?
Welcome to 'diet-related decreased arterial blood flow for the fellatio.'"
Soon the event is under way, and our hero (after taking a swig of mouthwash) now has 40 minutes to perform his task to completion. All the slurpy shenanigans take place behind a strategically placed box, but it rapidly becomes evident that the professional has severely underestimated the skills of the amateur. After an initial exploratory foray (and the removal of a hair from his teeth) the challenger renews his efforts, a hush draws over the crowd, and the game is afoot!
Or at least 8 inches. Which is still pretty impressive.
Appearing to be exhausted from his efforts, the challenger withdraws momentarily. But it is only to announce his upcoming coup de grace: two moves he proudly refers to as "the high-speed vacuum" and the "throat hold." Shortly thereafter, we see the professional shudder uncontrollably, biting his fist as the challenger reaches up to flick at his exposed nipples. What follows is a mysterious noise the announcers describe as "po," and the business is concluded with plenty of time left on the clock.
If only Howard Cosell had lived to see this day.
OK, sure this whole idea is pretty much just Make Me Laugh, with giggle-suppression replaced by a man trying to keep his gabagool from exploding. But who wasn't inspired by Orgasm War's story of a plucky underdog coming from out of nowhere to emerge triumphant over the cocky champ? Frankly, in these times of unrest and strife, the world needs more uplifting, working-class heroes like Takuya of Shinjuku Area 6.
That'll do Takuya. That'll do.
E. Reid Ross also mortifies his daughter over at Man Cave Daily. Feel free to follow him on Twitter here.
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For more from Ross, check out 5 Ridiculous Animals That Nature Clearly Hates and The 6 Most Clueless Assholes To Ever Exploit Tragedies.