I Gave You 4 Stars.
You gave me 4 stars.
Let’s get hammered on cheap red wine and bone down all nice and juicy to some Vangelis.
Archive | April, 2012
Internet Pussy: The Cave of Forgotten Dreams
11 AprI’m good at internet dating.
This means I’m good at taking a girl out, getting her a little drunk, and then fucking her. I’m good at steering the second date to dinner at my house so I don’t have to drive to get laid. I hear a lot of “I’m not usually like this” so I figure, you know, I must be onto something.*
Anyway. Point being, I am good at internet dating, and that is horrible, because it’s one of those things that if you’ve had enough practice to be good at it you’ve failed in some larger sense. Like— being good at pulling your own teeth. Being good at showing people you’re not a pussy when you show up to a new prison. It’s awesome that you’re a badass but the idea is that you figure your shit out and don’t have to go back. I wanted a relationship out of this, not 5,000 pieces of pussy. I wanted some god damn companionship. Someone I can call when the clouds are pretty or something and say, you know, go look at the pretty clouds.
Instead, I have merely gotten a ton of meaningless ass. And then I’ve taken the confidence from getting that ass and taken it into the real world to get other, even more meaningless ass. And it’s made me complacent. Maybe there is viable girlfriend material out there but I can’t be bothered to look for it because I’m driving out to Sherman Oaks to bone some nineteen year old.** Continue reading
To My Future Son
10 AprNever have a job you have to explain. Just like you should never have a Halloween costume you have to explain. Your whole life just becomes the same fucking conversation over and over.
Old News: R.I.P. Arch West, Inventor of Doritos
9 AprOriginally posted September 27, 2011.
The last bag of Doritos I ate before the death of Arch West were the best I’ve ever tasted. We were up in the mountains, me and my fake girlfriend. Smoggy and hot in the city but up in the Sierras it was cool, clear day, and we stopped at the Native American Cultural Center to check out some artifacts—longbows and shit made from pelts. It was a welcome relief from a tough week, and the two stoned Mexican guys running the federally funded shack and posing as Native Americans had a cooler of soda and basket of various chips for sale. We chose original flavor Doritos and a Coke. The classic American snack.
Something about the mountain air, the rigors of the wilderness; something about the long grueling week– the experience of eating those fucking Doritos was magnified. I could taste freshly harvested corn pulled from a heartland field in the dawn. Chilis hand dried in an adobe marketplace by a Toltec woman with hard, withered fingers. Salt delicately culled from the nurturing bosom of the sea. These Doritos tasted like life, seriously.
It brought to mind how about every three months for the past several years I’ve thought, apropos of nothing: who is the guy who invented Doritos? This man will get no Nobel Prize, but what he gave the world brought more joy than virtually anybody. In retrospect, I might have known that the universe was giving me a chance to truly taste the man’s masterpiece before he passed to the great beyond. Continue reading
Reader Mailbag: How to Make a Good OKCupid Profile
8 AprREDACTED asks:
I gotta be honest man. You have the best profile I’ve ever read. Both in terms of being well-written, paced and humorous, and also as probably able to wrangle in more women than any other jerkoff profile I’ve seen. Respect.
That being said, I’m curious if you could give me your thoughts on my profile. I know it’s kind of a lame thing to ask, but fuck it, you get it. Do you have any advice for me on how to better attract chicks on here?
OK, well first of all, thank you for saying such nice things. I like my profile, too. I get a lot of these emails because of reddit users briefly discussing me months ago. And most of my visitors are dudes from out of state. So, thanks guys. I wish you were nubile young women from Southern California, but, fuck it. At least someone gives a shit.
But I should tell you– I get an incoming email from an actual girl in my age range about once every two weeks. If this is in fact the best profile on the entirety of OKCupid, and I am a six foot one athletically built white guy who is gainfully employed in a major metropolis, and this is the unsolicited message yield one can expect from an “original” and “humorous” profile, men are genuinely fucked. Plus my response rate on outgoing emails is about fifty per cent, my phone number rate when I ask this fifty percent for it is about fifty percent, the call back rate when I leave a message is about fifty per cent, and the amount of dates that actually result in sexual intercourse or wanting to see the other person again is fifty per cent, and so on. I am in a Zeno’s paradox of pussy where you are walking halfway of halfway of halfway along a wall forever and by the time all the hoops are jumped through the possibility of having an actual relationship is functionally zero. So even if this profile is so fucking great, it’s like– the most lethal Nerf weapon ever invented. There’s just not much you can do. Continue reading
Talk to Your Kids about Sex
7 AprMy mother was a feminist. My single mother, which means, God bless her, that I was raised as a feminist. It means my sex and relationship talks from her were about respecting women. About not taking advantage of women, not hurting them, not raping them. After my stepdad came into our lives I never discussed these things with him. It took a few conversations with my father to sort out the one thing that I really and truly needed to know about sex, which is: you’re not a bad looking dude, and don’t worry, you can get laid.
He’d had a very different life than me. I lost my virginity at seventeen; at that age he had been picked up for dealing heroin and given the choice of going to the clink or enlisting in the marines at the height of Vietnam. He told me stories like “one time I beat up this black guy so bad that I was checking the papers the next day to make sure I hadn’t killed him.” He had a tough, colorful life. I was on scholarship to a prep school where they had not one but two competing a capella groups that in any sensible community would have had the shit kicked out of them on a daily basis. I was going to a school where they flew in math geniuses from China and all the girls wore docksiders and no makeup and were second cousins with Winston Churchill and if they ever saw a penis they would explode. The occasional accidental erection of their horse was the only stiff penis they had ever seen, and they had absolutely no curiosity about expanding their knowledge. A rich new England WASP girl is basically born elderly, in terms of her sexuality. This is why she has time to focus on things like perfecting her application essay to intern at the U.N. When I started at this fancy school, it was immediately clear that none of these girls would ever show even the remotest interest in me; they barely showed interest in boys at all. Continue reading
This, by the Way:
6 Apr
is the only sad picture of Kenny Rogers in existence. Every other photograph of him he is smiling his ass off, like he just stacked Dolly Parton and Linda Ronstadt on top of each other and grew a second dick.
Which he did, in 1978.
To the 35 Year Old Virgin
4 AprGo lose your virginity at a whorehouse.
Do it tonight. Forget about it being something “special.” You have been a virgin for 35 years- no matter what you do it is going to be “special.”
Think of your virginity as a cancerous growth on your face. It pops up at puberty, and at 13 it’s cute, like a beauty mark. But it slowly grows. By 17 it’s starting to look a little weird and people that still have it are at a social disadvantage. By 20 it’s malignant, with irregular borders and three huge Armenian chest hairs coming out of it. By thirty fucking five you have something that looks like it should be on Baron Harkonnen about to pop all over some poor slave and you need to get it cut off before it metastasizes to your brain.
So here’s what you’re going to do. There is a neighborhood in Fontana called “Felony Flats”. This is about a 45 minute drive outside L.A. Basically you’ll come to a whole district of cinder block buildings with big signs in front that say things like Osaka Massage and Kyoto Massage. These people will actually be Koreans, but let’s not split hairs. I applaud them for not giving a fuck that we think all Asians are alike. Pick any one of these places. They all have ample parking.
The front door will be a steel grate style like the athletic cage in high school- a place your fat ass never visited, so, like the athletic cage in a high school from a movie. Behind it will be a steely-eyed Asian man with whom you might not even exchange words- he might just hold out his hand. Give him $40. Forty in the door, and you’ll tip the girl sixty, but you don’t do that until after the whole thing is over. The man will lead you to a small cell-like room with a bed in it. It may double as a storehouse for disinfectant and Korean Bibles, seriously. Take all of your clothes off and lay down on the bed, with a towel (provided- do not bring your Spongebob Squarepants beach towel) over your dick. It is important that you take off your clothes right away- if you don’t the girl will know you have never been to a whorehouse before and may laugh at you, or try to extort you for more money. Do not ask how I know this. Continue reading
New Book
delicioustacos 