Blame it on Yoko.

Odd-Bjoern Hjelmeset blaming porn
Whenever somebody points the finger and starts up The Blame Game, I like to call it “The Blame It on Yoko Effect”.

Stop me, oh, stop me
Stop me if you think that you’ve
Heard this one before
Stop me, oh, stop me
Stop me if you think that you’ve heard this one before

Hey — here’s an idea: next time you fuck up, and it’s 100% your fault, why don’t you just blame it on Yoko? Serious. Let’s say you’re at work, you go way past deadline cause you’ve been fucking up, and Boss calls you into the office and demands an explanation, instead of blaming coworkers, or your health, or some other fucked up bullshit, just say to Boss, “Boss, I know you’re not gonna believe this, but I blame Yoko.”

Say it with a straight face, too.

Yoko, of course, being Yoko Ono, a woman everyone loves to hate, and who had absolutely nothing to do with “breaking up The Beatles”. We could go back and forth about why and how The Beatles broke up, and I’ll maintain — throughout our friendly discussion — Yoko is innocent. (Any four human beings who are forced to spend every waking moment of every day working their ass off couldn’t make it a year together, let alone almost a decade…especially if they aren’t banging each other (ie Fleetwood Mac (not that Fleetwood Mac achieved anything remotely close to The Beatles (they were just a quick, handy comparison)))).

How come no one blames themselves anymore for bad behavior? Especially when it comes to sexy shit?

See the silver medal around Odd’s neck? Well, it ain’t gold…cause he watched a whole lotta porn in Vancouver.

Uh huh.

(By the way, what kind of name is Odd? Oh! Those silly Norwegians. Norwegia must be a kooky place.)

I’m not defending smut cause I make it; I’m defending smut cause it ain’t the cause.

My very favorite vice of late is The Dr. Drew Franchise: the utterly brilliant Celebrity Rehab…which just followed his utterly brilliant show featuring a bunch o’ whacky “sex addicts”.

Sex addiction is a sham. Avoidance behavior is very real.

Who wants to work a 10 hour day when beating off is way more fun? Especially when you hate your job.

Who wants to bang the same person they’ve been banging since 1986? Especially when that person is 100 pounds overweight and snores like a freight train.

Let me clarify: you can’t be addicted the sex the same way as you’re addicted to chemicals. Sex is an out, which can work out really well, mainly cause it feels good; or, it can work out really bad, cause when it feels good, you can often lose control.

Who wants to deal with the real issue at hand? What would you rather do? Spend hours (and thousands of dollars) at The Shrink’s office dealing with your shitty marriage? Your shitty childhood?

How ’bout a stint in rehab?

Or, just bust a nut or two or three or four or five and carry on with your day?

Then, when confronted on the matter — blame porn.

Blame your addiction to sex.

Just don’t blame yourself for goodness sakes. That’s a sign for the weak and weary.

Why deal with the origins of the enormous pressures athletes put on themselves to win at any cost when you can just blame porn!

To me, Bill Maher is as close to The Voice of Reason we have for this day and age. He went on a Tiger Woods rant during his last show…as well as a rant that’s similar to mine. I won’t rehash, but he thinks sex addiction is bullshit, too; “You want to know the surest way that you can spot a ‘sex addict?’ He’s got a penis.”

If only I had said it first.