I’ve heard it. You’ve heard. We get it. There aren’t any “good” guys out there. Bullshit. You’re just too busy being a slut to notice.

Before you continue reading, let me inform you that I’m pretty sure I’m not “the good” guy. Continue on…

Upon hearing this crap I hold back the urge to shout. This is usually the same girl who got drunk the night before and picked the lowliest of guys to bang. Another story I’ll touch on in another post…

Somewhere along being asked to leave his dirty room and the walk of shame she thinks this is how all guys are. Perhaps that’s the reason she continues to do this. At least it’s a decent excuse. A truth it’s not.

The truth? There’s plenty of good guys out there. They aren’t normally the guys who’ll fuck you within a half-hour of meeting you though. So, stop blowing guys on the first date (if it even gets that far) and they’ll eventually come out of hiding to meet you.

If you open your eyes instead of your legs you’ll find a few. I guarantee it.

 


Why big boobs are awesome

Good. Lord.

Two words: bouncy, bouncy.

First off, no. This does not, in any way, contradict my previous post. Small boobs ARE awesome. So are big ones.

It’s true that big boobs get a lot of press, not to mention looks, but let’s see if we can approach this in a different way.

What is it that makes big boobs so awesome? Well, most of them are soft. Softness is not to be taken lightly. It’s a big deal. Like many leather-bound books and an apartment that smells of rich mahogany big.

As the first sentence infers, they bounce. Like a trampoline. Running? Of course. Walking? Yes. Tip-toeing? Amazingly.

If you’ve read my previous posts you’ll know that I fancy the hour-glass shape of a woman. It’s impossible to have one without big boobs. They’re pretty much the best accessory a woman can have.

What’s that? You like butts? Me too! Big boobs compliment the greatest of butts like peanut butter and jelly. They just work together.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Cleavage. Where would this world be without cleavage? Lost. That’s where.

Big boobs are fun to play with too. Bored? Not when your girl has big boobs.

In other words, I love them.


Why small boobs are amazing

Absolutely adorable.

Two words: No bra.

How amazing is it when you see two small boobies in an American Apparel shirt with no bra? That’s a rhetorical question but if you really need to know, then, they’re amazing.

They’re little rays of sunshine in the afternoon after a cloudy morning.

They fit in your hand, in your mouth, but unfortunately, not in your pocket. Probably my only complaint.

I’m also a fan of small nipples and areolae and it just so happens that most small boobs have those. It’s perfection really. If you have small boobs, show those works of art off. Feel proud.

The fact that small boobs come in different shapes is the icing on the cake. The tear drop? Awesome. The perfect circle? Awesome. The always hard? Awesome. The banana? Awesome. The Hershey Kiss? Yeah, awesome.

I’d rather have small boobs as a pet than cat, dog or any other animal. In all honesty, I’d treat them better too.

And? They never sag. They just stay there all perky and happy as a kid in a candy shop.

In other words, I love them.


Woman chewing gum

She knows what's up.

Toothbrushes aren’t that expensive. Neither is toothpaste, yet you refuse to combine the two at least two times a day. Gum. Buy a bunch and have it on you at all times. Don’t forget to chew it either.

Nasty ass, funky breath is a MAJOR turn off. You wouldn’t want to make-out with eight cans of shark shit would you? Neither would I. That’s what your breath smells like though.

I always have gum on me. You’ll see me chew a piece most of the time. Even if I’m at a bar. Especially if I’m drinking. Beer breath is gross. Gum and beer might SOUND gross but your breath is worse. Try it.

Gum disease isn’t that much of a laughing matter so if you have it then I apologize. I’d get that handled asap if I were you though. Still, gum helps. Listerine helps. Brushing helps. Get the point?

I’m not here to judge what you eat but if you enjoy the taste of shit you won’t make many friends, let alone boyfriends. Guys, this goes for you too. It’s directed more towards women though, because I’m not trying to kiss on a guy.

So please, for my nostrils sake, for your sexual life’s sake, and for everybody else’ sake in a 10 foot radius of you, brush your teeth and have some gum in your mouth at all time. Mints work fine too.

That is all.


I just figured this out. It took a realization or two but I did it. Women love reading into what men say.

With texting, it only gets more complicated. It’s understandable. I’ve mis-duplicated texts before. So, to avoid the drama of unnecessary advances I’ve become increasingly more blunt with people; mainly chicks. I’ve been confused as being a dick. I can be, but that’s not the intention. Once a girl gets to know me they learn it’s just how I am.

“I think we should have sex so we can get rid of the sexual tension between us”
Yeah, I’ve said that.

The advantages of being blunt are endless. I don’t waste as much time trying to explain myself. I let every girl know what I’m about up front. If they get disappointed expecting more, which OFTEN occurs (what the fuck is that about? If I tell you I’m going to act a certain way, you should expect me to act that way. Nothing more, nothing less.) I remind them of our prior conversations – the argument ends. Being that I hate arguments, it’s perfect. Another advantage, depending on what I go after (sex) it becomes less of a game and I get what I want faster.

“I want your number, but only if we’re fuck buddies.”
Said that too. And, yes, I got her number.

Truthfully, I don’t really have a censor. That deteriorated with all the relationships with women throughout my lifetime. Oh, and I enjoy shocking people with the  brain diarrhea that spills out of my mouth.

It’s also easier. Why say/ask something in a roundabout kind of way when all you want is a straight answer? It doesn’t make sense and I wish you’d stop it. Say what’s on your mind and I guarantee you’ll be happier for it.

So that’s why I’m blunt. If you don’t like, go fuck yourself.


I know I’m jaded. I know why too. She broke my heart and I try desperately to not let it happen again. I shut people out. I don’t let another one of “her” in.

It’s been a while since it happened but it left its scar as a reminder whenever I find a girl I like. This ugly, invisible scar. There’s no cream for it. No vitamin E oil I can rub on it. No one sees it but me. But everyone experiences it in some way.

Luckily, I’m fond of being alone. I enjoy my own space. Don’t get me wrong. I love people, for the most part. Well, OK, I love my friends. The rest of the people can fuck off. I exaggerate a lot.

I stopped thinking about her on a daily basis. That’s a relief in itself. Now, trying to completely move on while having this scar as a constant reminder is my new struggle. I’ll win. I always do. But how many girls will I burn in the meantime? Plenty of them have come and gone already. Some I know were special. The scar grows. The more I curse at it.

Don’t confuse this as depression. You’d be an idiot if you did. My life is actually amazing. If you knew me, you’d want my life. I don’t exaggerate about this. Ignorance is not bliss. Arrogance is.

The scar is getting smaller.  Slowly. I don’t worry about how long it’s taking anymore. It’s only a matter of time before it’s completely gone.

It’s only a matter of time until the next special one comes her way.


I have a problem. Not anything too serious, but a problem nonetheless. Finding a girl worth getting serious with is a hard task. An even harder task is maintaining that affection for her.

The rarity of finding one of these girls causes me to fall for them faster than I’d like. Thankfully, I have enough self-control to not share those feelings until the time is right, if ever. The issue I have though, is as quickly as I fall for these girls the feelings subside.

For whatever reason I hold these girls to a higher standard and if they don’t consistently meet it, the feelings stop. Shallow? No. It’s not like that at all. OK, maybe it is, but it’s not meant to be. It’s a defense mechanism.We’ve all been hurt and I’m no exception. This is how I prevent the hurt from happening again. But, as much as I love being single I’d like to have a stable relationship sometime in the future.

On the other hand, I’m not sure if I care enough whether or not I have a girlfriend. What’s the point? Seriously. What is the point…  Love? Overrated. Companionship? I have plenty of friends. Someone to talk to? Again, I have friends for that. Don’t even say sex. I have friends for that too.

If you haven’t figured it out I’m jaded. But, I know the sun comes up tomorrow and am still somewhat optimistic about my future.

I’ll just chalk this rant up to a long weekend. And dumb fuckin’ bitches.


 

Crazy chick licking her dog

Most definitely. She's crazy. Avoid.

 

Women. An interesting species for sure. Beautiful in many ways while crazy in others. Our testosterone and penis tells us to fuck as many as possible. We get ourselves in trouble a lot.

Some women, however, must be avoided at all costs. If you haven’t discovered who these women are, then keep reading. Subscribe too. I’ll be uncovering more as time goes on.

She likes animals? Cute.
She likes them more than people? Run. Run fast.

Don’t get me wrong. Animals are great. But they can’t talk to me and no matter what you say, they don’t understand a one word I say to them. That’s what friends are for. Or 1 (900) numbers, if you’re desperate.

Empirical research shows that women/girls who prefer animals over humans are, in fact, crazy. Think old lady with a million cats. That’s what she’ll be in the years to come.

Need more of a reason? They’re flakes. Don’t rely on them. You’ll be let down.

More? Drama. Their lives are consumed with it. They have to be. The animals they talk to don’t talk back and that can drive a person mad after a while. Read the rest of this entry »


Beautiful legsA beautiful woman
The number of times I’ve looked at a woman and said, “Wow” to myself are countless. It’s an instinct ingrained in all men. Obviously, we all do it for different reasons but I catch myself doing it out of a woman’s sheer beauty. So, I asked myself, “What is it about women that makes them beautiful?” Apparently I have a lot of time on my hands to ponder such an unanswerable question. The reality is, there’s no one reason.

I could say the obvious: tits, ass, and pussy and I’d be right. Those are beautiful, however, they’re a few in a woman’s endless sea of attraction. For instance, it should be a well-known fact that a woman’s skin is considerably smoother than that of a man’s. Such simple things can drive a person crazy.

The shapes you can find while roaming a woman’s body is quite possibly the best exercise in geometry a man will ever partake in.

As disturbing as this may come across, I’ve admired a girl’s hair. HAIR! Not in a creepy or jealous way but just as another “wow”. A girl’s hair can be the icing on a cake that puts her over the top. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I may have a problem but I don’t care.

I won’t even start on the dumbfounding effects of an hourglass figure.

As much I have been somewhat of a womanizer in the past, and occasionally fall back into, I have always admired the beauty of a woman and for that I will always be grateful.


Knee high socked hotty

Yeah, she pretty much looked that.

Back before the schoolyard hand and blow jobs I was an almost-normal young male, except for my unprecedented perseverance. I usually got what I wanted one way or another but this particular prize took some cunning that was definitely not taught in school…

There she was, like a dream

On an afternoon of an exceptionally normal day, breaking through the doldrums like only she could, the hottest girl of my age came to visit my school. Since the school wasn’t public, we offered parents and their children a chance to experience the goings on through tours and what we retardedly called “buddy days”; where the kids could come for a day to see if it was a right fit. (It only sounds ridiculous because it is.) Luckily for me my future ex-girlfriend had a cousin that attended the school and decided to take one of those tours.

When she came to my classroom I couldn’t help but stare in disbelief and infatuation. With long blond hair, a tight shirt showing off her perky breasts, short shorts that instantly turned me into an ass man, and knee high socks, she drove me insane. She had to be mine.

Being too dumbfounded to speak to her to get her name I had to resort to other means of getting to know her when I found out she wouldn’t be attending the school. The only way I’d see her again was if I befriended her cousin who happened to hate me. Read the rest of this entry »

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