Posts Tagged ‘horseshit’

Performance Anxiety In Bed

June 6th, 2017

I have an embarrassing story to tell and it’s a story that many men will understand but will not want to admit aloud.

 

Performance anxiety in bed is a thing that happens to fellers sometimes, when they’re in bed making sweet love with a lady. It’s not something that we want to think about because us guys, we don’t like to think about our brains getting in the way of our weiners. But it happens sometimes and it happened to me and I’m going to tell you about it or at least my side of it. Because it happened to me while I was making love to a semi-famous person.

 

Before I tell my story, I should warn you fellers that if you were to get lucky and hit the sexual jackpot and make it with a famous female celebrity, this might happen to you. You think about all the crazy things you’d do to Megan Fox or Jennifer Lawrence or Sam Elliott if you’re a gay kind of feller. The truth is. . . you would crack under the pressure of trying to satisfy them. Having Jennifer Love Hewitt scrolling through her smart phone while you sweat and grunt on top of her, not even looking or paying attention to you, making you feel like a pathetic failure of a man. Failing to get even the most minute rises out of Adriana Lima or Kate Upton and giving up with a floppy unerect wiener and a face full of tears. That would be you, my dear friend.

 

This happened to me, dear friend. But I have a good excuse. Because I was making love to Louise Mensch, the member of British Parliament, author, blogger, and conspiracy theorist.

 

 

We were at her place, in her bed, doin’ the deed. Or I was, or at least trying to, while she glared at me. Within a few minutes, she asked me if I was a Russian operative.

 

I’m not a Russian operative. But I figure that’s a question that should’ve been asked earlier in the evening before the clothes came off. There are certain questions sex partners should ask before doing it for the first time, and that’s not typically one of them but if it’s that important to her, then she should ask it. I would be way more interested in knowing if my sex partners have any diseases or are in a relationship at the moment. But that’s me.

 

Sure enough, within a few days of our encounter, she was on Twitter calling me an operative of the Russian government. I promise I’m not. Turns out she calls a lot of people that and never shows any proof of it. It’s kinda like calling somebody a witch.

 

I have no idea if she has slept with all of the people she has accused of being a Russian spy. I don’t believe Louise Mensch is a giant sloot. I just believe that she thinks I’m a dickhead who can’t satisfy her and thus tarred me as a traitor to my home country.

 

If you’re not in the mood to have sex, don’t have sex. You put pressure on a feller.

After tonight, I’ll let this go.

November 10th, 2011

For this moment, I’m going to stew in the juices of bitterness and angst. This is not a love story.

 

To set the story, I had two passes to the Pixies. I had asked this girl over a month prior if she wanted to go. And she replied FUCK YEAH! because why wouldn’t she? A pass to the Pixies and all she has to do is get there. I was so confident for about three weeks that this was a DATE.

 

I was going to show both sides of the story, her texts and mine. But I think my texts tell the story well enough. If I posted her texts it would be almost funny but that’s not what I’m going for.

 

THURSDAY:

 

Can you get off next Wed for Pixies?

 

Forget it then.

 

Did you ask off?

 

When do you think you’ll find out? No offense but I have an extra ticket and I’d like to use it.

 

FRIDAY:

 

Did you get your schedule?

 

OK. Let me know when you find out. It’ll work out.

 

MONDAY:

 

Hey, hey. Did you find out anything about Wednesday night?

 

TUESDAY:

 

Let me know. I hope you can. I never asked anyone else.

 

I didn’t know if you wanted to go separate or not.

 

9pm Louisville, 8pm (your time)

 

I’d be cool with meeting you in (your town) but I’d hate to drive us to Louisville. I hit a deer last week.

 

WEDNESDAY (show time):

 

(15 minutes before doors open) Are you on your way?

 

Really? You couldn’t call it in.

 

-fin-

Miley Cyrus vs. Rebecca Black

March 30th, 2011

WHO YA GOT?!!!

 

According to the Daily Telegraph out of Australia, where Cyrus is planning on touring later this summer.

 

No circus tricks, a few costume changes and a setlist influenced by shout-outs from the crowd – for a ticket price less than $100 – will be the key ingredients of her Gypsy Heart shows.

I don’t lip-sync. I would rather someone say I sang like crap than have people see me lip-sync,” she said ahead of her June 26 Acer Arena show.

Catapulted to fame off the back of Disney’s Hannah Montana, Cyrus slammed the overnight success of YouTube phenomenons such as Rebecca Black.

It should be harder to be an artist. You shouldn’t just be able to put a song on YouTube and go out on tour,” the daughter of country star Billy Ray Cyrus said.

 

You’ll notice that Cyrus doesn’t actually mention Black in the quote. This is still being posed by outlets as a Cyrus dis on, as the black guy in the song says, “R.B. – Rebecca Black.” Also, it’s far too easy, far too low-hanging a fruit to mention that Cyrus is the daughter of the worst singer of the 1990s, Billy Ray Cyrus and yet that was enough of a Hollywood connection to get her a TV show.

 

No, let’s talk about Miley Cyrus’s voice which sounds like gravel being digested by an orc while raping a dwarf. And it’s perfectly fine to say that since she says in the above quote that she’d rather be criticized as being a bad singer than being accused of faking it like Britney Spears in concert, in bed, in life. It’s acceptable to say her voice sounds like a minion of Wormtongue with a duckbilled-fist in it’s gaping ass. Miley Cyrus’ career is an atrocity and I hate it’s existence.

 

In a perfect world, Miley Cyrus would be doing meth in the trailer next door from me. Rebecca Black won’t be around nearly as long, and it’s no fun ripping a thirteen-year-old to shreds. Especially when every thirteen-year-old who ever existed wanted to be a rock star, even young Jesus.

 

You know how no one knows much about Jesus’ life between the ages of twelve and thirty? That’s when he was in his rock-star phase. I’ll blog about that some time later. Maybe right before Easter.

What The Dilbert Guy Said About Women

March 25th, 2011

I saw that Scott Adams was a trending topic on Twitter and I thought “Did that guy die? Finally!” I hated Dilbert. It was drawn half-ass, and appealed to the LCD of workplace/cubicle humor.   Calvin And Hobbes, Bloom County and Far Side were all better drawn and actually funny. Sadly, all three are gone but stupid Dilbert and his curly jack-off tie are still around. Maybe there’s something to being a hack.

 

So you can imagine my disappointment when I found out that Scott Adams had not died or gone deaf again or something horrifying. Nope, he had in fact written a blog about the subject of men’s rights. But then he deleted it after some controversy. Which is always funny because he must have expected his Dil-weed fans to back him up without any rancor. However, someone copied it before Adams deleted it. I got this from TinySprout who got this from some other Tumblr account, and so on.  I am going to present this without comment.

 

Fake Edit: Apparently, this posted on March 7th this year. I thought this was a new post, like from today or yesterday. Whoops. But I’m still gonna post it because fuck him and his stupid shitty comic strip. Perhaps in a future post, I’ll parse this thing but for now I’ll let you come to your own conclusions.

 

The topic my readers most want me to address is something called men’s rights. (See previous post.) This is a surprisingly good topic. It’s dangerous. It’s relevant. It isn’t overdone. And apparently you care.

Let’s start with the laundry list.

According to my readers, examples of unfair treatment of men include many elements of the legal system, the military draft in some cases, the lower life expectancies of men, the higher suicide rates for men, circumcision, and the growing number of government agencies that are primarily for women.

You might add to this list the entire area of manners. We take for granted that men should hold doors for women, and women should be served first in restaurants. Can you even imagine that situation in reverse?

Generally speaking, society discourages male behavior whereas female behavior is celebrated. Exceptions are the fields of sports, humor, and war. Men are allowed to do what they want in those areas.

Add to our list of inequities the fact that women have overtaken men in college attendance. If the situation were reversed it would be considered a national emergency.

How about the higher rates for car insurance that young men pay compared to young women? Statistics support this inequity, but I don’t think anyone believes the situation would be legal if women were charged more for car insurance, no matter what the statistics said.

Women will counter with their own list of wrongs, starting with the well-known statistic that women earn only 80 cents on the dollar, on average, compared to what men earn for the same jobs. My readers will argue that if any two groups of people act differently, on average, one group is likely to get better results. On average, men negotiate pay differently and approach risk differently than women.

Women will point out that few females are in top management jobs. Men will argue that if you ask a sample group of young men and young women if they would be willing to take the personal sacrifices needed to someday achieve such power, men are far more likely to say yes. In my personal non-scientific polling, men are about ten times more likely than women to trade family time for the highest level of career success.

Now I would like to speak directly to my male readers who feel unjustly treated by the widespread suppression of men’s rights:

Get over it, you bunch of pussies.

The reality is that women are treated differently by society for exactly the same reason that children and the mentally handicapped are treated differently. It’s just easier this way for everyone. You don’t argue with a four-year old about why he shouldn’t eat candy for dinner. You don’t punch a mentally handicapped guy even if he punches you first. And you don’t argue when a women tells you she’s only making 80 cents to your dollar. It’s the path of least resistance. You save your energy for more important battles.

How many times do we men suppress our natural instincts for sex and aggression just to get something better in the long run? It’s called a strategy. Sometimes you sacrifice a pawn to nail the queen. If you’re still crying about your pawn when you’re having your way with the queen, there’s something wrong with you and it isn’t men’s rights.

Fairness is an illusion. It’s unobtainable in the real world. I’m happy that I can open jars with my bare hands. I like being able to lift heavy objects. And I don’t mind that women get served first in restaurants because I don’t like staring at food that I can’t yet eat.

If you’re feeling unfairly treated because women outlive men, try visiting an Assisted Living facility and see how delighted the old ladies are about the extra ten years of pushing the walker around. It makes dying look like a bargain.

I don’t like the fact that the legal system treats men more harshly than women. But part of being male is the automatic feeling of team. If someone on the team screws up, we all take the hit. Don’t kid yourself that men haven’t earned some harsh treatment from the legal system. On the plus side, if I’m trapped in a burning car someday, a man will be the one pulling me out. That’s the team I want to be on.

I realize I might take some heat for lumping women, children and the mentally handicapped in the same group. So I want to be perfectly clear. I’m not saying women are similar to either group. I’m saying that a man’s best strategy for dealing with each group is disturbingly similar. If he’s smart, he takes the path of least resistance most of the time, which involves considering the emotional realities of other people. A man only digs in for a good fight on the few issues that matter to him, and for which he has some chance of winning. This is a strategy that men are uniquely suited for because, on average, we genuinely don’t care about 90% of what is happening around us

Four Minutes Of Lyrical Horseshit

March 16th, 2011

I just wanna be your brother

You just wanna be my boyfriend

I just wanna run and play in the dirt with you

You just wanna stick it in

I just wanna be your brother

I don’t wanna be your lover whoa whoa

I wanna be your bro

– from “Be Your Bro” by Those Darlins

 

 

Those Darlins are a four-piece band from Murfreesboro, Tennessee, and “Be Your Bro” is from their forthcoming album “Screws Get Loose”. I only saw this because a female friend posted it on their Facebook wall, with a note that read simply “Amen”. And the chorus makes a great point re: men and women as simply platonic friends. Why can’t we just be friends and hang out without someone catching feelings? Am I right, ladies? Whoo-hoo! What time does your favorite show come on so I can sit there next to you and watch YOU watch it? Fuck yeah, let’s Dance with The Starzzzzzzz…!

 

If, as Pat Benatar put it, “love is a battlefield” then unrequited affections are plans of war kept in private for far too long. I know it all too well, having been crippled in the past by thoughts of romantic love toward someone who did not, could not reciprocate in the slightest. Never mind that it’s a two way street and girls can fall into the trap just as well; this is a woman singing obviously from her (and I imagine a few others) perspective.

 

But this video we’re looking at is one hell of a contradiction. Below you see some of the tomboyish things they want to do in the verses.

 

I just wanna beat each other up on the playground and see who gets a bloody nose

We could stay up til it’s stupid late o’clock and see who can drink the most

 

Pay no attention to us wearing posing and sexing it up in this video. That’s not the point. We wanna catch fireflies in jars and get a merit badge for attempting to piss our names in the snow. Can’t we just be bros?

Until the second verse when things get really standoffish.

 

You don’t care to look with lust in your eyes at me even when we’re hanging with my man.

He don’t have to look in your eyes to read your mind ’cause it’s so sure what went through your pants.

You could throw a ball, I’ll hit it with a baseball bat or maybe we’ll just carry it around.

I just wanna swim and play in a creek catchin’ crawdads til the sun goes down.

 

So you have  a boyfriend? And yet you want to do all this cool “Stand By Me” stuff with me? Awwwwwwww. . . why don’t you go do all that stuff with YOUR GODDAMN BOYFRIEND INSTEAD? You had me, you lost me. The guy in the song is hanging around the singer and her man like a hangdog loser, and we’re supposed to feel sorry for her? Fuck that. She can’t throw the ball back and forth with her man because he is probably TIRED OF HER ANNOYING SELF and when a girl isn’t getting the attention she needs to live, she’ll try to get it anyway she can and by doing the least to get it. Hence this stupid tomboy shit and “we can still be friends, though” until before you know it, you’re the drummer for Those Darlins.

 

I know this is a song for the girls who are tired of being crushed on by dudes, but without dudes crushin’ on girls THERE IS NO HUMAN RACE PERPETUATING ITSELF. If we don’t have mutual attraction to help us mate, we’re doomed. And our girl is feigning attraction by occupying some poor guy’s time and attention. He thinks he has a shot, so he’s trying to build a fence around her even though she’s already in a relationship. Now couple that with the video above and it all amounts to a big cocktease, slap in the face, what have you.
Stop wasting his time so he can move on to a girl who might want to be involved with him. This band is probably playing SXSW as I speak, playing this song and girls in the crowd going “woo-hooo!” And I have nothing to say about the music itself. It’s a subjective thing, but these lyrics. . . here is a gender-reversed equivalent to that chorus.

 

I just wanna have a tea party with your dollies

You just wanna be my girlfriend

I just wanna watch you choose what to wear tomorrow

You just want me to stick it in

I just wanna be your sister

I don’t wanna be your mister whoa whoa

I just wanna be your sis

 

Doesn’t that sound stupid? Actually, I think it’s well-written for something off the top of the dome. I am taken with my own work.