product review: idiot saddle

Here at Port Authority, we pride ourselves on delivering measurable results for our readers. You, the consumer, are a discerning buyer with a seemingly endless array of choices in front of you, and you’ve placed considerable trust in us to help you make wise decisions with your money. We take that responsibility very seriously. With Christmas coming up, we owe it to you to share our expert opinions on the best gifts of the year. So, before you ruin the holiday season by investing thousands in a pseudo-luxury SUV, parking it in your driveway and tying a huge ass bow on it, consider this affordable alternative:

I know what you’re thinking – “you have got to be shitting me with this.”


I am not shitting on you.

Few decisions I’ve made on the Internet have left me feeling more uneasy than typing “pony up daddy” in the Google search bar and hitting enter, so you can imagine how relieved I was to discover that the top result was not fetish porn but simply a device you wear when you feel like being humiliated on all fours.


Finally, a gift the whole family can enjoy while you abandon all dignity to the delight of your wife and children. “Look honey, there goes your dumbass father role-playing as a horse again, why don’t you stick your spurs in his ribs for a while?”

Pony Up Daddy isn’t just the name of a velcro strap-on saddle; neigh, it’s a way of life. You got married and put your girl through 9 months of hell for this. The times when you couldn’t, wouldn’t, or shouldn’t be ridden around like a farm animal are long gone. You’re half bank account, half livestock, half stage prop. Manhorsedork. Pony the fuck up, daddy, it’s time to play with your emotions.


Dead inside.

There’s an entire market of products out there built on the backs of bent over and broken down old men, so I can’t fault the manufacturer for seeing dollar signs here. The feminist industrial complex has been quietly bulldozing its way through masculinity for decades. Just think – while you’re busy crying about how unfair it is that you invested $24.99, plus shipping and handling, plus the cost of the multiple surgeries you’ll undergo just to repair the damage done to your spine by your kid’s erratic thrashing, the cisheteromatriarchy is devising hundreds of other new maniacal methods for prying those precious male tears out of you. Your best strategy is to keep your mouth shut, lay low and enjoy life in captivity. The less noise you make, the less of a chance there is they lead you back behind the barn to begin the glue-making process.

What’s that? Oh, the commercial says mommy can wear one too?


Not a fucking chance, guy. She’s not wearing this shame saddle, you are. It’s called Pony Up Daddy, not Pony Up We’re In This Together. That whole “equal partnership” thing you agreed to at the wedding?


p.s. – Does anyone know what the “cis” part of “cishetero-” means? I can’t get a straight answer out of anybody.

buy your pony up daddy today, you miserable fuck


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