I’m not saying that I know anything about dating, however most people know as much about relationships as they do date rape. Throughout my adolescence I was certain that having numerous girlfriends would help my nuts drop lower and my dick grow longer as they tugged on it. It’s every teenage guy’s dream to have some girl rub up on his nether regions until Robin Williams popped out and gave you three wishes. That’s right ladies, you’re capable of pumping out menstrual blood monthly and human life every 9 months while us men can push out wish-giving genies. Warm your hands by the fire and come on over for a magical evening.
I was declared by doctors and self-proclaimed sex experts as still a virgin, although those are people who think the sole purpose of dating is getting dicks wet and women looser. Apparently, nothing says “I love you” more than injecting a woman with your man-chowder on a daily basis, risking the prospect of a bastard child being born. Some women are sex crazed while others choose to preserve their innocence with barbed wires wrapped within their panties to deny immediate access. Women should consider such adequate defense systems as these so they won’t be quick to be labeled as “easy.” To me, dating is not about seeing whether I can fit my dick inside of her. I, too, long for personal connection despite popular belief of so many women who think men are only interested in penetration. It’s easy for me to say that since the experts still call me a virgin, but certain business in particular is essential if I want the sex to mean anything.
Let’s think about this in real world terms. Dating and getting to know each other is the business, and the sex following afterwards is the paperwork to seal the deal on said business. There will be no profit or benefits if we just go ahead and have sex. What’s the point of paperwork if there’s no business? I’m not wasting the “ink” in my pen on a shriveled up piece of paper such as yourself if there’s nothing to show for it. Business is important, but don’t think you’re clever comparing my dick size to that of a pen. That’s about as far as women can go when they attempt comedic insults on their boyfriends. How about this, why don’t you use your π so we can measure the circumference of my one-eyed trouser snake? We can have sex and do math simultaneously, but no calculators.
Wait, are you a girl calling me a girl because I’m interested in personal connection? How sad that you’d rather take the slutty route by sporting your spiritual beer goggles and having sex with something that also drunkenly moves. You should name your bastard child after the beer or liquor you were drinking at the time of copulating. That’ll be a good story for the little sucker to hear when he’s five. Stop being so closed minded while your legs are so wide open. I may be a man, but rape is not interesting to me. I can love, too.
I think it’s hilarious when some woman’s magazine releases a new edition each month and has come up with fifty new ways to spice up sexual endeavors. Women’s magazines have taken the P in the V concept very far ever since Adam and Eve figured out that their genitals fit inside each other. In interest of keeping up with the trends, I have developed a small list myself.
1. Dip each other in fondu chocolate and proceed to lick every last square inch of it off each other. Once she’s nice and bloated, begin to drum on her stomach while you’re wailing away at her nether regions and watch as the chocolate sprays off her stomach.
2. Butter her up by collecting an obnoxious amount of dick shaped foods that you can slap and what not against roast beef or whatever even remotely resembles female anatomy. Put on a little puppet show with a hot dog (or vegetarian hot dog) and the little piece of roast beef and call it “Fun With Dick and Fanny.” Create your own beginning, middle, and end where Dick and Fanny will be together forever.
3. Reenact a scene from the movie “Teeth.” Once he’s digging into her cave, he should start screaming bloody murder while her inner dentures begin to gnaw off his penis. And the Oscar goes to…
4. Pretend his condom is a ghost costume while he wishes to roam the haunted house inside her. Within a week, Stephen King will have written a 1000 page epic that chronicles the ghost’s adventures within the haunted house and will go on to be a New York’s #1 bestseller. It’ll probably be more accurate if he’s in the room with you while this happens.
5. Act like the day is December 21st, 2012. The Apocalypse is going full throttle, so this should be the craziest sex ever imagined to the point that they just kill each other and won’t face the wrath of God.
6. We’re going heavy metal now. Have her hold a stereo while you’re going in and out of her. She’ll be playing Korn or something while you thrust away in a moshing manner. Don’t stop until an entire album’s worth of material has played out.
7. Role play as Jason Voorhees and a helpless camp counselor. He should pull on a hockey mask while she lays on the ground, stupidly screaming and approach her with a machete. This is the main female character though, so she has to survive until the very ending. This calls for many encounters with Jason’s “machete” and the helpless camp counselor.
I think it’s time again for me to stop writing and allow you all the chance to explore the infinite world of poetry. There are no rules except don’t write me an epic like The Odyssey or something that’s 289339823 lines long. You can write about anything you want and I don’t care about language or being repulsively graphic. BE CREATIVE!
Post your poem in the comments section.
The winner of this contest will be given the opportunity to write a guest post on my blog. I only received two entries last time, and they both ended up winning. Now that I have more followers and perhaps other people are reading, I would really love to get several entries. Give me something to read!!!
I’ll pick a winner this Saturday, unless I receive a lame amount of entries like last time.
1. People who say “YOLO.” I guess you didn’t see Tupac at Coachella last week.
2. People who think they deserve success because they carry a “Sob Story.” Apparently hard work is no longer a requirement.
3. People who think they’re better than everyone else because of their minor scholastic achievements.
4. People who think they look older when they hold a beer and party.
5. People who think I’m religious just because some of my posts have religious references. I’m not.
6. People who say, “I raped that test,” although that would mean you ripped the paper up with your dick and therefore it didn’t get graded. Rape is never rewarding and doesn’t give you good things.
7. People who think they’re quirky because they love bacon so much.
8. People who think they’ll lose weight by just eating healthily and not actually exercising.
9. People who think they’re experts in a particular field just because it’s their current college major.
10. People who say they’ve been way too busy to talk even though it takes 5 seconds to send a single text message.
11. People who think they’re activists just because they support gay rights or another cause.
12. People (such as religious fanatics and the gay community) force beliefs down other people’s throats.
13. People who like the Pittsburgh Penguins and the Boston Bruins.
14. People who think The Hunger Games came before Battle Royale.
15. People who say, “I can’t do this.”
16. People who think fuck, shit, damn, ass, cunt, bastard, hell, and other words are bad. They’re just words.
17. People who get offended way too easily over the dumbest shit.
18. People who think they’re famous because they tried out for American Idol.
19. People who are rude.
20. People who think they’re intellectually superior when they drink coffee.
21. People who think they’re dating experts because they’ve had one night stands and dated somebody for two months.
22. People who engage in the Mac vs. PC debate. Mac is a PC, it’s all about preference, not what’s better.
23. People who think they’re going to be successful because of having a higher IQ. Successful at what? Do you aspire to be a serial killer? Those guys have genius IQs.
24. People who sob over the death of some kid in their school and act like it has impacted them the most even though they weren’t close to said person.
25. People who think they’re experts in politics just because they have opinions.
26. People who think they can get anything they want for free as long as they complain enough.
27. People who have irrelevant arguments on a Youtube video.
28. People who think they know everything about sex just because someone stuck their dick in them.
29. People who think Lil Wayne, Drake, Rick Ross, Soulja Boy, Nicki Minaj, etc are better than Eminem, Hopsin, Biggie, Wu-Tang Clan, Big L, etc.
30. People who think the relationship is all about their needs and wants because they have the vagina.
I’ve been dead for about a week now ever since the incident that claimed my life. I know you’re still grieving, but I thought I’d write you this letter so you know that I’m still watching over you. You’re just as lovely, if not more so, when I look down from Heaven. You can look up towards the sky at any time and smile at me and I’ll always smile back. Can you believe that you’re actually reading this right now? The technology is top notch up here in Heaven. Two angelic messengers named Malachy and Engel delivered this specially to you and I look forward to writing you even more in the future.
We had a strong six years going and that engagement ring fit beautifully on your finger. I spent many days when I was alive always thinking about our future together. Our love is what kept me going for so many years and I couldn’t wait to spend the rest of my time on Earth with you until our dying day, hand in hand. I still have that slip of paper with your phone number on it when we first met at your friend’s party. I was a little reluctant to call you at first, but I knew we had some connection. They say to never share a kiss on the first date, however we knew we were in love on that first date. I can still taste that first kiss and it’s probably my favorite memory of us. It held a predictive power that opened our eyes to our future. Images of our love saturated my mind at that moment and made me think about us many years down the road. That slip of paper with your phone number on it is in the left pocket of my pants that I was wearing when I passed. I planned to show it to you again before I died to remind us of our beautiful past. I hope, even in my death, that you’ll carry our love with you for the rest of time.
Let’s not kid ourselves though, I’ve learned a lot up here in my first week in Heaven. I’m glad I was able to die peacefully in my sleep, however when I see the replay footage I could do nothing but shake my head. Remember how you’ve had sleeping problems every night we went to bed since we started dating? I never had issues, but a week ago you decided to overdose me. You slipped some of your medication into my wine while I wasn’t looking as we were preparing for a lovely night. I could’ve woken up eventually, but you took a baseball bat and bludgeoned me to death while I was unconscious. May I say you’ve got a hell of a swing? All of those years playing softball really helped you improve; I’m glad to see you’ve put your skills to use. The neighbors are starting to complain about a foul smell roaming around the neighborhood in proximity of our house. You can’t keep my body in the crawlspace forever babe, so I suggest you dissolve it in some acid and then pour the sludge of my remains down the bathtub drain. You can still dig your phone number out of my pocket before you do so If you want to keep it. I think it’s funny that there are three 6′s in your number. You’re safe for now, but eventually investigators will search our house and the evidence to convict you will be overwhelming. Didn’t think that one through, did ya?
I never treated you wrong, although now I understand your motive for killing me. You never loved me even though I’ve loved you all these years. But now I know that you’ve been cheating on me with that Charlie guy we’ve been friends with for quite some time. You didn’t just whore around with him though, you went and slept with many other guys while I’ve been faithful. God told me that until you’re arrested for my murder, you’re going to continue to cheaply sleep around with other men while using that same slip of paper with your phone number on it. I hope Hell burns worse than the many STDs you’ll come in contact with. You’re one hot Demon, baby. You can prostitute all you want in Hell with others of your kind. I heard John Wayne Gacy has been looking for some action, and soon enough Charles Manson will be asking for some, too.
With the few girls I have dated over the years, one common theme generally pops up within two months of a relationship. The “Wear the pants” phenomenon has plagued boyfriends worldwide ever since its conception when a bored girlfriend couldn’t think of something legitimate to argue about. When a girl openly declares to her boyfriend, “I feel like I’m wearing the pants in this relationship,” it signals that the relationship is half-way to its expiration date. Normally when a girl has crossed everything off of her “Unreasonable things to bitch about to my boyfriend list,” the WTP phenomenon is something of a last resort to indicate that she has overcome women’s oppression and has suddenly grown a penis (metaphorically speaking).
For decades women have had an ongoing war with the opposite sex to claim their equal rights. Their assertion of “I wear the pants” confirms hypocritical and stereotypical labels that steers them clear from the equality they desire. When a woman wishes that her man would wear the pants in the relationship, she is really claiming that she’d rather be totally helpless in the clutches of an authoritative male figure who will dictate every aspect of the relationship. For some reason, women are under the impression that extra baggage around the crotch of a pair of blue jeans determines the level of male superiority.
Declaring “I wear the pants in the relationship” is nothing but an evil ploy to cause further argument over frivolous matters. Yeah, you’re cute, but sitting on a bed curled up in a ball crying and saying, “I feel like I’m wearing the pants in this relationship,” doesn’t really prove anything. Doing nothing but crying and shouting overused insults to prove your worth doesn’t help the cause in your quest for equality. If you want equality, you’re not going to get it by employing your expertise in silent treatment and laughable clichés such as the WTP phenomenon.
I think women need to understand the importance of equal contribution to a relationship. Absolute perfection isn’t going to come your way if you just sit back and wait for your boyfriend to do something in tradition of your standards and expectations. Men can’t do this either. The relationship is pretty lame if one or both members aren’t willing to work towards satisfaction. Striving for equality by living up to a gender specific stereotype doesn’t make any sense at all. Stop being a woman and stop being a man. Be human beings.
The greatest time of every year has finally started: the NHL playoffs! Ice hockey is my favorite sport and I’ve played since I was 8. I’m a Washington Capitals fan and they’re playing my most hated team in the universe, the Boston Bruins. I didn’t get to watch last night’s first game because I was studying hardcore for an exam. The Caps may have lost but I’m quite optimistic about Game 2 tomorrow if Braden Holtby goaltends like he did last night. I’ve had one hell of a week (doesn’t necessarily mean it has been a good week), so I’m glad I’ll get to chill out and watch some playoff hockey.
One of my roommates had the excellent idea to get some booze for the game tomorrow at 3:00 p.m. I hate all of those stupid fratty beers like Busch Light and what not that tastes like piss. I understand that it’s cheap, but I love beer and I like the more classy brands that don’t say “Will get her drunk fast and wet faster” on the front. My roommate left the apartment and was back within fifteen minutes and I didn’t see any beer in the bags.
He decided to go with 4Lokos against my wishes. 4Loko has caused controversy over the years since it is a stimulant/depressant concoction. The design of the can seems more marketed towards women with the variety of vibrant colors and the wide selection of fruity flavors to choose from. I drank some 4Lokos my freshman year of college only because my girlfriend at the time wanted to try it. Her and I drank the fruit punch flavor and it was about the worst thing I had ever tasted. I’ve had some other flavors but my roommate bought the lemonade and blue raspberry flavors. He promises they’re better tasting, although I still think it’s a girly drink. Most college girls don’t really enjoy the taste of beer or mixed drinks, they just like to get drunk as quickly as possible and then go find somebody who will listen to all of their problems and have sex with them.
Luckily in three and a half months I’ll be 21 and I can make my own purchasing decisions. This is the first and last time I’ll have 4Lokos for sports entertainment. I’m retreating back to my beloved seasonal beers. Sam Adams, Guinness, and Fat Tire for the win.
Recently we started talking about sexuality in my Developmental Psychology class. Since I’m a male and should conform to a female’s perception of how immature males can be about sexuality, I thought I’d write this post. In no way are these actually tested or meant to be taken seriously, however when I actually land my boner at an airport without crashing and burning, I’ll make an attempt at each position and report my findings. These are only hypotheses at this point and have yet to be tested by the porno industry. Don’t sue me if you suddenly experience erectile dysfunction or if you pop her cherry and it won’t stop bleeding, although I guess the latter suggests statistical significance.
1. The Helicopter
This position requires the male to be laying flat on his back and his prick aiming straight for the stars. The naked female should suddenly eclipse his vision of said stars and sit on his hardened barb. Once she confirms penetration, she will lay in a similar parallel fashion as the male, only suspended by his tripodal kickstand. Depending on right or left hand dominance, he shall place his dominant hand on her love-handles and his off dominant hand on her upper arm. Now that he’s gassed up and ready to go, with both hands he will push her in a clockwise direction (if right hand is dominant) or in a counterclockwise direction (if left hand is dominant). Like helicopter propellers, the female should be spinning while penetration is still in tact. The male should continue to spin her if she begins to slow down. If they start levitating off the ground and take flight, there is absolute statistical significance. If not, significance results from the female’s reported level of pleasure with the act.
2. The Dubstep
This position tests rhythmic skills, requiring the sexual acts to be in sync with Skrillex tunes (Other dubstep is acceptable, but I’ll use Skrillex for mainstream purposes). Let’s take his song “First of the Year (Equinox)” for example. The song shall be playing while the male and female engage in intercourse. Each loop of the baseline will equate to one penetrative thrust and shall pick up in speed as other sounds and samples are added to the music. Initially you’ll look like a cyborg that isn’t properly programmed to know how sexual pleasure works, penetrating nice and slow in robotic movements, but the beat will pick up rather quickly. Also, each new sound requires a different movement to perform on the woman in combination with your other moves. The female should mimic those baby sounding lyrics, “Aeg eh euf, gyaaaa uh ah uh, gye gye gye gyeeeeuw,” repeatedly as the man performs. Both the male (music) and female (lyrics) should be doing this in unison with the song as soon as it begins. In the event of mid-thrusting she yells, “CALL 911 NOW!” and starts manipulating you in the air with her supernatural powers while you’re naked, you might be doing it wrong or doing it right. I have no idea.
3. The Wave
This position works better if the girl ranges from muffin-top to walrus status. Imagine a day where you two were meant to go to the beach to soak in some sun with the seagulls on a beautiful afternoon, when all of the sudden Zeus gets pissed off and starts throwing lightning strikes for some undisclosed reason. The male and female still wish to liven their day up by engaging with the waters of the Atlantic. It’s time to get wet and silly as the two lovers take the missionary position as a starting point. This seems common, but you’ve never thought about ocean waves while having sex, have you? The male will start off slow and thrust at a steady pace just like the calm winds over the ocean water. Now the tides are building up and so is the wind, so the male should start thrusting faster and faster until the female’s fat begins to jiggle in similar fashion to ocean waves. Soon enough the male will reach hurricane status and plow away all the while vocalizing different beach animals with his voice. The female, with her fat waving up and down her body, should make ocean sounds like, “Pwooosshshshhshsh pwoooshshshshshshshshshs shshsh pwoosh.” You may open the windows if you wish to let in the blazing sun to simulate a wonderful sunny beach day. You’ve got something wet, you’ve got waves, you’ve got beach animal sounds, and you’ve got great sex. I don’t recommend sand because it’s uncomfortable and nearly impossible to remove after numerous showers.
4. The Guido/Guidette
This position is modeled after MTV’s hit show, Jersey Shore. All behaviors and values should correspond with the actual characters of the show. You may pick any two characters, but if you’re looking for a threesome or maybe even an orgy, you can create an entire new episode with all characters originally involved! Let’s give the male anatomy the name “The Situation.” The male is going to want to stick his situation into everybody’s business. Throw him a short, stumpy, orange, and apparently famous Snooki look alike to get the ball rolling. If possible, the male and female should locate a local tanning salon where they can both lay in a tanning bed to have sex. The unnatural orange glow is imperative to this sexual position, otherwise it’s not very Jersey. If the tanning bed is not available, retreat to the bedroom and open up all windows to let the sun in and cut off the air conditioning. You may even build a fire for increasing effect. This should simulate the two in a tanning bed, sweating and getting their sex on. While thrusting, the male (The Situation) should yell, “I’M GUIDO AND PROUD I’M GUIDO AND PROUD,” repeatedly. The female (Snooki) shall sing the original Oompa Loompa song from the original Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. “OOMPA LOOMPA DOOPITY DO, I’VE GOT A PERFECT PUZZLE FOR YOU!” Snooki’s got a puzzle, so use your Situation to figure it out.
Brian Hugh Warner (Marilyn Manson) has been one of my greatest inspirations growing up. Most would call me a Satanist for enjoying his music, but those are the kinds of people who judge before discovering the real message behind his lyrics. He is what I define as an artist and not just a musician who works to get a paycheck.
I discovered him back in 1999 soon after the Columbine High School massacre. I knew of him beforehand but my parents obscured me from the music I wanted to engage with. The media and parents worldwide were blaming Manson for the mass-murder committed by Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold that claimed the lives of 15 people including the two perpetrators. I always hated it when society would blame such attacks on the entertainment industry. I won’t go into my take on the issue in this post because I need to dedicate an entire post to it.
If you watch some interviews and listen to his music, you can tell he is a brilliant person who really stands for individuality. He is part of the reason why I am the way I am today. He will always be one of my favorite musicians and I totally wish that I could meet him. He taught me how to be an individual and truly express myself. His new album, Born Villain, will be released May 1st and I absolutely cannot wait. Below is a 20 minute video that previews each track on the new album. I hope you enjoy.
“We will always be our worst audience, until we stop being an audience and start being an artist. Any art is flesh and blood, no matter how you perform, decorate or display it. But we all want the passionate horror of that blood. And blood is what I am here to bring.” – Marilyn Manson
