Posts tagged ‘the cock’
Three Ways To Spend Valentines Day Alone
1. Go fuck yourself. Literally. Today, while you are out purchase 2 bottles of red wine and a Mama June sized box of chocolates. When you go home tonight, sit in front of your mirror, drink the red wine (so you start crying immediately), eat the chocolates, right the name of your crush on your index finger, and shove it in your b-hole repeatedly while self-flagellating. That way, tomorrow when people asked what you did, you can say you had a nice dinner, drank your tits off, and got finger-banged so hard you burped up a press-on nail.
2.Watch a marathon of the Millionaire Matchmaker. If Patti Stanger’s coked out, anorexic, sunburnt puffer face doesn’t make you glad to be single, nothing will.
3. Be a whore. Go out by yourself to the sleaziest bar you can find. If you are gay, that means the Cock in the East Village. If you are straight, that means any bar that doesn’t have a dress code. Sit alone in a slutty outfit and get so shitfaced that it doesn’t matter who hits on you. Go home with the first person who talks to you, even if its the janitor. If you do this, you can guarantee you won’t be alone next Valentines day.
You will have Herpes to keep you company.
You’re welcome.
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What If You Could Order Your Dream Guy?
Recently whilst on vacation to a fair hamlet, my hometown of Panama City, or as I like to call it the Devils Genital Wart I happened across this Hungry Howie’s sign. It got me to thinking–what if you could order your perfect guy like you could a pizza? What if you could specify exactly what you want beforehand so that you aren’t disappointed?
Then I realized you could. Can. And do.
On the fucking internet.
As I’ve said before many times I have nothing against online dating–and think that nowadays we have so many different avenues and options in regards to being exposed to a much wider selection and variety of people. That being said, I don’t really like meeting guys online. I won’t say I’ve never done it, or will never do it again. But I am wholeheartedly old fashioned when it comes to meeting guys–I want to meet them in a bar, give them a fake name and have meaningless sex.
I was raised right.
