Inside the Mind of a Ghetto Genius

P-Funk's Tips For Hookers

2012-02-24T12:24:00.002-08:00

Some dude on the news told me that there's a serial killer on the loose and he's targeting hookers. Somebody's got to protect the hookers. That's where I come in. I'm like Batman for ho's. Except I'm a girl. And I don't have a bat suit. And I can't fly. Wait. Can Batman fly? Or is that Superman? I'm not a comic book geek, but I do know that Batman has a cooler costume and that sweet-ass Batmobile. And a mother-fucking Butler. And he looks like Christian Bale, who's a total a-hole but I don't care cuz I wanna lick his whole body cuz he looks so damn yummy. Except in that movie with Mark Wahlberg where he's a boxer who's addicted to meth or something. He's really goddamn ugly in that. And he's got bad teeth in it too. Wait. What was I talking about? Let me re-read this paragraph...hold on a second...Oh yeah, I'm trying to protect the hookers, so I've made this list of Hooker Protection Tips, i.e. "How To Hook With Brains." Please forward this to all the ho's you know. Their lives may depend on it.

(1) Stop advertising on Craig's list. It never turns out well. Unless you like getting all murdered and stuff.

(2) Stop being lazy and get yourself a work ethic. Hookers are supposed to walk the streets. It's tradition. Stop looking for shortcuts.

(3) And on the subject of pounding the pavement...Wear the biggest stilettos's you can find because -A- John's like whorey shoes, and -B- If the John pisses you off you can use the heels to stab him.

(4) Work over-time for awhile until you can afford some Karate lessons. If the economy is bad, just spend $10.00 and buy The Karate Kid. The 1984 version with Macchio. Not the new version with Fresh Prince's little brat. Watch that cinematic masterpiece over and over and study that a-hole Johnny's bad-ass Cobra Kai moves. Ignore Daniel-Son until the end, because for the first hour and a half he's just a big whiny pussy. But make sure you learn the Crane Kick from the finale. Even if you can't master it, it will make you look crazy enough that a murdery John would totally run.

(5) Educate yourself. Spend your days off watching Lifetime. They are always playing movies about hookers and murder and crap like that. Learn from Tori Spelling's mistakes. Someone has to.

(6) Don't don't drink or do drugs. It's such a cliche. I know you want to make everything blurry in order to forget the fact that you're letting a 400 pound ugly dude with a third nipple and an ass fetish give you the butt sex, but you need to stay alert. A drugged-out hooker is a dead hooker. You can't get all Chuck Norris on some John's balls if you're high as a kite. If you need to get yourself to la la land while getting pounded by a smelly John with boobs bigger than yours, take some yoga classes and practice meditation. When I am doing something I don't wanna do, I go to a place called Pattitopia. It's better than Xanadu, cuz it has Paul Rudd and Unicorns. But get your own happy place, cuz you can't come to mine. I have a strict No-Hooker Policy.

(7) Never go with the guys in the fancy cars. Rich guys are douchebag's. Look at Donald Trump. And Kanye West. And 9 times outta 10 it's the rich guys who want the weird stuff. If you go with the rich guy be forewarned: He's not gonna be Richard Gere and he's not gonna give you thousands of dollars and a room at The Beverly Wilshire. Chances are he's gonna wear a giant diaper and want you to wipe his ass.

(8) Invest in a Pimp. Yeah, them pimps got a bad rep, but you can turn the tables. Take control of the situation. The Pimp works for you. It's 2012. He's your bitch.

(9) Take your time and be choosy when selecting your Pimp. Since you've probably never been to a job interview before, ya know, cuz you're a whore and everything, you may wanna learn some interview skills by watching Barbara Walters and Diane Sawyer. Ask your prospective Pimps the tough questions:

Q: Where do you see yourself in 5 years?
A: Fuckin' a John up!

Q: If you were a tree what kind of tree would you be?
A: The kind that fucks a John up!

Q: What is your biggest strength?
A: My ability to fuck a John up!

Q: What is your biggest weakness?
A: That I have to sleep, which takes away from time I could be fuckin' a John up! But when I do sleep I'm dreamin' about fuckin' a John up!

(10) Do not advertise for your Pimp on Craig's List. (See Tip #1)

Safe and Happy Hooking!

The Tattoo that Lead to a Facebook Break-up

2012-02-24T08:31:00.001-08:00

via - Happy Place

"Battle Shits" Banned

2012-02-24T08:14:00.000-08:00

There's only one way to get in her pants

2012-02-24T08:07:00.000-08:00

Alisha - watch more funny videos

Rapid Fire with J-Wunder

2012-02-24T07:49:00.001-08:00

1. Most hardcore place you've had sex and I don't mean a bed or up the ass! Location please!

JW: Studio 54 in Vegas. Drunk as shit. Hot broad. Dark corner. Up goes her skirt, in goes my penis. Game.Set.Match. One of my most favorite accomplishments I must fucking say. It didn't hurt that she was DTF...ANYWHERE!!!

2. Favorite position?

JW: The one that's gonna make a girl say words that don't make any fucking sense while they put an anaconda choke on my cock. Position that, bitch.

3. Preference to size, age, race or religious background?

JW: Is this a serious fucking question? Like, for fucking reals? I like a woman with curves but that’s not to say I wouldn’t fuck a skinny broad…because we all know skinny broads need the dilz, right? As far as race, I embrace all beautiful people who would give me a blowjob while watching SportsCenter. The only religion I fucking care about is “will they fuck me” religion. Next.

4. Group sex, 3some's or more? If yes, preference to additional male or female?

JW: I’ve had two threesome’s in my life. Both times with two chicks. I ain’t gonna lie, that shit was crazy and I’m almost convinced my dick was hard for 3 days…and my punk ass didn’t even take Viagra. See, what you need to know about me is that if a chick can turn me on…like really turn me on, I could blow my load and still keep it hard. Ladies, you’ve been warned. Oh, and if you ever ask me if I would fuck a chick with another dude again, I will slap the shit out of you. I don't play the double dick touching game. Stop that shit.

5. Not a question, a comment; teeth used properly on a dick are like fucking heaven on earth! True story and I have more then one man who will have my 6 on this one!

JW: Note to self: DO NOT LET THIS BITCH SUCK YOUR DICK. Get the fuck outta here! Dude’s that say it's heaven on earth, have obviously never had a fucking blowjob. And what is this "6" nonsense? Are you saying you only have 6 fucking teeth? For fuck's sake. Jesus fucking fuck. Goddamn bum.

6. Are you a "toy" kinda guy? To use or be have used on you? If yes, type?

JW: I’m a “how would you like me to fucking make you cum” kinda guy. See, there’s a time and a place for everything. Some bitches love it when a man can fuck ‘em while using some type of toy to arouse their clit. Some like anal beads shoved in their ass and pulled out slowly as they're about to cum. Some, some just want to be fucking choked and spit on, then chili dogged. Wait, what? What was the question? Onto #7...

7. Kink/Bondage shit? Anything I need to add to that one? YES! If yes, do'er or done to?

JW: Look, after watching Pulp Fiction, I ain’t about some mother fucker trying to strap me up, gag me and beat me like Mommy Dearest. Fuck all that. I’m a dude that needs a little control. So if a bitch says, “I want you to strap me to this wall or bed and fuck me til I turn blue”, then I probably will. But if she comes back to me after I’m done beating her shit with my dick and says it’s her turn, I’ll probably punch that bitch in the throat then steal her purse. Real talk.

8. Food play? If yes, Jello or Pudding? Flavor? Whipped cream and strawberries are "vanilla" and way over rated!

JW: Bitch, you serious? What are you gonna ask me next…am I going to start talking like Bill fucking Cosby while eating some delicious chocolate pudding off your pussy?! Jello or Pudding? How bout, my fat ass dick in your mouth, combined with a few dick thrust in your wet ass vagina? How does that sound? You want pudding, I’ll cum in your mouth. Happy? If I want Jello, I’ll fuck you with a yeast infection. Geez woman...what the fuck is your goddamn problem?!

9. Oldest person you've fucked, Youngest person you've fucked? Which had the tighter pussy?

JW: Oldest person was 41 when I was 21. Fucked her for 2 hours. You heard that right…2 hours…straight. That was the only time I had Superman dick without taking a break. Youngest chick was 19 and I was 23. She was either a virgin or my dick was really big that night. I raw dogged the shit out of her too. BOOM! Oh, to answer your question…your mother’s a whore.

10. If you had the option of the BEST BLOW JOB EVER....would you invite me to the party? I won’t let you down unless of course I can’t get you down!

JW: Please see #5. Use your teeth, I will knock your ass out. It’s all fun and games till you make a dudes dick bleed. And you my friend, with your 6 teeth having ass, ain't coming to my party. If you did, you'd be assigned to receive complimentary facials. Just sayin'.

Bonus: Word from the wise; Difference between like and love....spit and swallow! I swallow!

JW: I’d swallow too if I don’t get to suck too much cock. I can’t believe you use your goddamn teeth. Do me a favor, if you really are down to suck my dong, take a cucumber, suck it off and show me a pic of how that cucumber looks afterwards. If I see one ounce of cucumber skin peeled off, I get to Karate Kid crane kick you in the face. If not, I’ll let you suck my wang. Deal?

I'm out.

Person in my bed...

2012-02-23T09:12:00.000-08:00

Fruit Ninja

2012-02-23T08:50:00.000-08:00

Seriously?! Like, fucking seriously?!

2012-02-22T20:05:00.000-08:00

Just One of the Guys

2012-02-22T19:51:00.000-08:00

I am a girl who enjoys hanging out with guys. It's just always been easier. My guy friends are generally very easygoing. They don't mince words. They aren't passive-aggressive. They don't talk behind my back. If they have an issue with me they tell me. With guys, there usually are very few mysteries. When I was 16-years-old a girlfriend of mine called me to ask what I thought of another girl. Within 2 seconds I knew that she had me on a 3-way call so that the other girl could hear everything I said. I'm not a goddamn moron. Why do so many girls do shit like that? None of my guy friends would have ever pulled such crap. I would never pull such crap. Two-faced missions like that take proper planning and execution, and most guys I dig hanging out with are good at neither of those things. A few of the rules I live by are as follows:

1) If I don't like someone I tell them.
2) If I wanna know what's up with someone I ask them.
3) If something is bothering me, you'll hear about it.

Every thought that goes through my head must immediately come out my mouth. It's a totally healthy way to live. At least for me, although I admit that I sometimes feel sorry for those around me. Recently a friend of mine said, "I always know exactly where I stand with you, and I appreciate it so much." That is how most of my guy friends roll. No pretending. No being two-faced. No faking it. None of that bullshit.

One of the reasons that I've always found it easy to hang out with guys, is that I've never really been a super girly girl. When I was little, my mom cut all my hair off into what she called a Dorothy Hammil cut, but she was actually a big fat liar because it was really a Bowl Cut. I did not look like a beautiful and graceful ice skating superstar. No. I looked like Jim Carrey in Dumb and Dumber. The reason that evil woman did that to my hair was because I was totally anti having my hair washed or combed, and if she decided it was time for a wash and style, it was basically a death match between the two of us. One time, after she wrestled me kicking and screaming to the kitchen sink for a good hair scrubbing, she attacked my head with such force that one of her fingernails broke off in my scalp. You heard that right, you guys. There was a fucking fingernail stuck under the skin on my goddamn head. I found it later and put it in a Glad Bag for Show and Tell.

I also hated dresses. While most little girls were dying for dresses, especially those of the twirly variety, I was "accidentally" staining, ripping, or losing every dress that was forced upon my dirt-covered little body. When you're wearing a dress you can't climb trees and play on monkey bars, and you always have to be careful that you don't show everyone your Wonder Woman Underoos. Wearing dresses is hard. To this day I'm still not a big fan and am likely to pull an accidental Britney Spears or Paris Hilton at any moment. My brain can barely focus on anything besides beer and sex, so how can it possibly remember that I'm not allowed to show people my Karate Kid Crane Kick due to the fact that I'm wearing a skirt and no unders? Not. Gonna. Happen. When I was younger and weakened by parental nagging and threats that God gets pissed when girls wear pants to church, I sometimes gave in and allowed myself to be forced into those nightmares of lace and itchiness, and the boys in my neighborhood would make fun of me. And with good reason. I was one of the boys, and one of the boys does not look good in a twirly dress.

Although I was usually more one of the boys than one of the girls, I was definitely not a boy. While I liked to go exploring, ride bikes, play tag, steal stuff, and generally act like a hooligan with the boys, I could also go in my room and play with my girly stuff too. But I probably played with my things a bit differently that most girls did. In my playroom the Barbies were all bitches and got into lots of fights, and there were often tornadoes and other natural disasters that would hit their town and cause loss of limbs and death and destruction. And Ken got molested. A lot. At least until he lost an arm in a tornado and the Barbie's all thought one-armed Ken was creepy. I played with a few baby dolls too. Did you know that if you put your Baby Alive in front of a space heater for long enough you can melt the shit outta her? And while a melting plastic baby smells fucking horrible and the fumes are probably a full-blown cancer causer, it sure is fun to watch.

But my girly side came out sometimes. Like when I wanted one of the neighbor boys to play house and I would cover our picnic table with a blanket so we could make our house underneath. Then I'd lure him in with some cheese balls and a bottle of Pepsi and make him kiss me on the lips and then do some sweeping. Cuz that yellow cheese ball powder shit? It was not about to sweep up itself, goddammit!

That's girly, right?

Of course as I got older I started to hang out with more girls. It's just what you do. But I was very selective. I was not into hanging out with the girly girl cheerleadery types (bitchy drama), or the overly butchy FFA types (tried to make out with me). My type of girl was somewhere in the middle, and I found a few of them. These girls were a lot like me. Pretty relaxed and carefree, and not obsessed with things like clothes and makeup. Sure we liked to look cute, but it wasn't all-consuming. We could be ready to roll in 5 minutes if the opportunity arose. No hot rollers and pancake make-up for us. And we all liked to hang out with guys, so we formed a pretty good group of fun people that had little to no drama. Of course, when you hang out with a lot of guys, people will talk. They think that if you are a girl and you are surrounded by dudes, you must be fucking them. But this wasn't the case. We just liked to hang out together. And sure, there were some nights when there were bonfires and beer and good music and people would make out, but it was usually forgotten the next day and life went on.

In college my best friend was a boy. We talked on the phone until late at night. Sometimes until we fell asleep. We did everything together. Talked about everything together. We were as close as two people can be without making out. When I was still living in the dorm, he would come over between classes every day. This made all of the girls on my hall suspicious. Since I had a long-distance boyfriend at the time, they all seemed to think that my friend was my fuck-buddy. But he wasn't. He was a friend I'd had since 10th grade. But those girls? They couldn't accept that. And there were always whispers and accusations of messing around.

This is a problem for every girl who likes to hang out with guys.

With a room full of men, I am in my happy place. There are beers being chugged, there are burps, there is dirty talk, there is totally stupid talk about things that most women would find pointless, like who would win in a fight between Big Foot and a Lion. And I learn a lot. I especially learned a lot when I was younger. Hanging out with guys and hearing them talk about girls is perfect cuz you learn what NOT to do. After you hear X amount of stories about X amount of sluts, you kinda figure some shit out. And having lots of guy friends is also good because if you are dating a guy and he tries to fuck you over, he's totally getting his ass kicked.

Fast forward to now. I am a grown woman. Wife. Mother. As I always have, I have a pretty small group of girlfriends that I talk to on a regular basis, and hang out with, and trust. Sure, I have lots more friends on the periphery: women I consider friends, but more of the casual kind. But there's still something that happens to this day: When we go to a party, and the men split off from the women, I try really hard to hang out where the girls are. I stand around listening to all the talk about how much their jeans cost, or where they get their nails done, or where they got their latest Botox done. Then I quickly get so bored that I wanna spork myself in the eyeball, and I usually interject with something so inappropriate that everyone exchanges horrified glances and I know my job there is done. Then I wander off to wherever the men are, and start talking about something totally inappropriate there, and the response is often high-fives or laughter.

But the problem still exists, and is actually much worse: The women wonder why you are hanging out in a room full of men. You know they're talking about it. You know they think you're up to no good. Even my husband, who has known me for along-ass time, thinks it's a little inappropriate. And I totally don't think it's fair. The way I see it, you like who you like, and you get along with who you get along with. If it's a girl, that's awesome. If it's a guy, why can't that be cool too? I'd rather talk about farts than some chick's shoe collection any day of the week. And if you wanna talk about me and why the hell I like to hang out with the men, go ahead. Cuz while you're talking about that, I get to hear about how you wear a flannel nightgown to bed and don't wanna have sex cuz you just had your hair done. Fact: I'd shave my head for a good lay with multiple orgasms. And I think flannel nightgowns are for pioneers and the Amish.

I think I just figured out why I get along so well with guys.

Gmail: Helping you make better dating decisions

2012-02-22T12:34:00.000-08:00

Wax On, Wax Off

2012-02-22T08:04:00.000-08:00

So the other day I went to get a wax. No. Not for my car. For my Secret Garden. And in case you don't know what that is, it's my in-between, you guys. And in case you don't know what that is, it's my taco. And in case you don't know what THAT is, you really need to (a) get a life, and (b) get a life. Although if you wanna get totally geeked-out and all technical about it, then vagina is the word you might use. But I guess that doesn't really work in this situation, cuz the vagina is actually the interior portion of the garden. And unless you are a real live sasquatch or a Kardashian, the interior part should not be hairy. It should oh so totally NOT be hairy. As far as I can recall from those awkward and uncomfortable sex-ed classes back in middle school, the actual part that I'm referring to is just called the pubic area or the labia or something like that. I think it's Major Labia, if you wanna get all fancy. And no, that isn't that 80's sitcom that starred that guy who used to be in "Simon and Simon" and then married Delta Burke when she was skinny then she pulled a fast one on him and got fat again. Maybe I have that name backwards. Maybe it's called the labia major. But that just sounds like one of Beethoven's symphonies or something boring like that. But either way, alls I'm saying is that it sounds really technical and oh so super duper un-sexy.

So basically I prefer to avoid all those boner-killing technical terms and call that area my Secret Garden. And that's only due to the fact that Bruce Springsteen told me to. And we all know that he's The Boss. So it's best to just do what he says. He's from Jersey, you know. So he's probably got some bad-ass connections. Anyways, when I first heard that "Secret Garden" song, there was no fooling me. I had learned my song-meaning-decoding lesson in the early 80's with other songs like "Turning Japanese" and "She Bop." Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, I'll kick you in the nads. Possibly even spork you. Depending on my mood. But I heard those lyrics and I damn well knew what he was talking about:

She'll let you in her house

If you come knockin' late at night

She'll let you in her mouth

If the words you say are right

If you pay the price

She'll let you deep inside

But there's a Secret Garden she hides.

Wait. Wait a goddamn minute. Now that I am re-reading these lyrics, I'm thinking that maybe I had this all kinds of wrong. I think that maybe "she" is a hooker. Cuz he says "If you pay the price, she'll let you deep inside. But there's a secret garden she hides." So he's obviously paid her (hooker), and she let him deep inside. But she's still hiding the secret garden So that CAN'T be her taco. Cuz he already got deep inside of that. So I am getting all Perry Masony up in here and deducing that the secret garden is her butt and she must charge extra for butt sex. Which totally makes sense. If I was a hooker the butt sex would definitely not come with the basic hooker package. That is a definite upgrade.

And now we are way off track.

So I went in for a Brazillian wax yesterday, and for those of you who haven't done it, I'm not gonna lie to you: It's not comfortable. And in situations that are uncomfortable, I like to distract myself by talking. And in this situation in which my bottom half was totally naked and I was in really awkward positions whilst getting hair brutally yanked from my nether-regions, I decided that it was totally apropos to discuss ball waxing. Because women? I understand why WE wax. Women like to be smooth. In most places, anyways. We all have different levels of smoothosity that we wanna achieve. But in case you haven't tried it, let me tell you something: When you are smooth down there, everything feels better. EVERYTHING. It's like all these nerve endings you didn't know you had are unleashed, and every little bit of fabric that touches them, or air that hits them, literally gets your juices flowing. Sometimes just the seam of a pair of pants can give you a goooooooood feeling. If you ever see me out at the mall or something and I'm moving a little funny, that's probably what's happening. Either that or I'm drunk. And everything's so slippery smooth and sexy, that you kinda just wanna rub it on everything. You want to. But I wouldn't recommend doing so unless you are in private. Cuz doing that kinda stuff in public can get you into trouble for some strange reason.

But let's get back to the ball talk: I had heard rumors of men going in for "Crack and Sack's", which is just what it sounds like, you guys. They get their butts and balls waxed. And everything else in that general vicinity. And I already know that balls look ridiculous, but I would prefer them to be hidden away behind at least a bit of fuzz rather than just be hanging there taunting me with their gleaming apricot-i-ness. That is disturbing to me on so many levels. And as the waxing lady told me to roll over and spread 'em, I decided to ask her how many men go full Brazilian. And the answer was quite a few. Quite a few, ladies. Which, of course, I immediately pictured in my twisted-awesome mind. And ya know what? It was not a pretty picture. And it wasn't manly either. It looked like a hairy man wearing skin panties. Which I of course told my waxing lady, to which she replied, "Well, it kinda does. But I fade it in." Meaning, she gradually waxes less and less as she goes up and/or down so it looks "natural." Ya know, as if it's "natural" to be wearing skin panties with a gradual thickening of hair around the edges. Which it's sooo totally not. And let me tell you something. That would be a deal breaker for me. I like my guy to be pretty organized down there, but I don't want him to look like he went all "Silence of the Lambs" and made skin panties with shiny dangling apricot balls that mock me at every wiggle.

Men are not supposed to be smooth. Well, except on their backs. Cuz that super hairy back shit is just disturbing. I don't need my man looking like he's gone all Davey Crockett and skinned a buffalo and flung it on his back to stay warm. So backs? Backs are not only ok to wax, but highly encouraged. But a man being all smooth in the down below? Nope. I mean, I think most women like their men to be "manscaped", but all the way bald? That is just so totally not ok in my book. I -at least- want a man who still feels like a man. If I wanted someone who's smooth, I'd get a chick with a strap-on. Girls smell better anyways.

Please! Men of the world, stop the madness. Stop it now!

Well, unless you're gay. Then by all means, wear your skin panties with pride. I can totally see that being acceptable.

Now that's cold-blooded

2012-02-21T11:59:00.000-08:00

WORST TIP EVER

2012-02-21T11:23:00.002-08:00

Eight ball; Up your ass

2012-02-21T10:57:00.000-08:00

Buckets of Cunts for Everyone

2012-02-21T10:56:00.000-08:00

Facebook Comment FTW

2012-02-21T08:23:00.000-08:00

The New Way of CPR

2012-02-21T08:06:00.000-08:00

WHAT IN THE FUCK?!

2012-02-21T07:59:00.001-08:00

Let's go swimmin'!

2012-02-20T19:01:00.000-08:00

Late Night Sexting Summed Up

2012-02-20T16:08:00.000-08:00

Strokin', Strokin', Strokin'

2012-02-20T15:47:00.000-08:00

The Best Dating Site on the Planet

2012-02-19T15:14:00.000-08:00

The Most Disastrous Post-Date Text Convo in HISTORY

2012-02-19T15:03:00.000-08:00

via - Happy Place

PinBall's Weekly Rant: TV Game Shows

2012-02-17T21:35:00.000-08:00

TV Game Shows...

I'm sittin' in a hotel room in Jacksonville, North Carolina, and my buddy is watching "Wipeout". Now, I've seen this show a couple times...and yea, it's pretty fuckin' funny watchin' people kinda defy the laws of physics as they fall into an utter abyss of what looks to be regular toilet water.

Now, I used to watch these shows in my "lonley years" and thought they were pretty fuckin' funny. I mean what's not funnier then a hot chick running across a bouncing padded table while her upper breasty bags of holy fun bounce up and down...kinda like a faster version of the "Baywatch run". Ya'll remember that shit. I know at least half the guys reading this probably rubbed one out to it at some point in their lives. Kinda like a Shakira video to me. See, I was born in the late 80's and didn't watch much Baywatch since I was more concerned about what old man cuddy was doing on Scooby-Doo running around in a giant Frankenstein costume. But I digress...

Take Jeopardy for instance. Has there ever been anyone on that show that didn't go to college? If so, I would like to meet him/her, and find out where the fuck did they gain their immense amount of knowledge...I barely passed high-school. But I do ok for myself.

Anyway, back to the topic. Ok, there are some pretty funny game shows...or shows I guess...per say Trigger Happy TV. I remember that shit from a guy by the name of Dom Jolly...if you havent seen it, I highly suggest you get your ass to YouTube and take a looksee. Funniest shit you'll ever watch. More like a hidden camera show with just random crap, and giant stuffed animal costumes fuckin' eachother in a store-front window.

Yeah, can't make this shit up.

Ok, take Wheel of Fortune...what the hell is that? A giant roulette wheel mixed with a 7th grade spelling bee? Really, that's what I want to do...fucking spell words and win a shit ton of money by guessing what actor uses what hair product in what film. Most random shit ever...about as random as what my last rant was about. Who the hell gets Mike Tyson'ed with a gallon of milk? This pathetic mother fucker right here.

Now, let's take this fuckin' frantic crap known as Jackass. Now Jackass is funny as hell. Some of the shit they do is by far crazier than yours truly could think of. But since I am a cultured human and not just a (Russian voice) "typical American", I find the Dudesons much, much, funnier. Just because they've been doing this for decades, therefore, they automatically rule over Jackass. Jukka? Balls and a mousetrap? Now I admit that made me cringe like a little school girl watching a puppy get run over, but I just couldn't take my eyes off it. It was that funny/painful, "two girls one cup", my eyes literally caught on fire...but hey, I watched the entire thing.

By the way, if you think that is bad, Google "blue waffle". It will make you shit someone else's pants. Kinda like that moment when you were 4, and you walked in on your dad piledriving your mom with a dominatrix mask on, and cans of Cool-Whip everywhere (never will those horrific images leave your mind). And you all know you've done it...my suggestion? Drown your sorrows...you can't set them on fire (arson is a 3rd degree felony in the states, 5-15 years).

Now, why can't there be a actual good game show like who can get divorced the fastest? Or what happens when you punch a cheetah? I didn't grow to the top of the food chain to be told my ass is getting sued because i chained a dog to a tree...fuckin' animal rights groups...now I admit animals have feelings and some people don't care...like torturing animals...but to me, they should be treated as children. They fuck up? Whip their ass.

I'm completely against animal abuse but people take it over the line sometimes. Like you can understand what the fuck a shark is thinking? Bitch I watched Jaws. That's a mean bastard right there. Ok, here's a real example: fuckin' Shamu. Yeah, the killer whale at Seaworld...it's a goddamn killer whale. I will repeat this for the slower such...KILLER-GODDAMN-WHALE!!! A giant "ill-tempered seabass" that fucking has KILLER in the name. If I get sued for beating my dog because he got in the garbage, I'll sue Shamu for first degree murder. "Killer" I assume is a street name...for being a nice fucking guy to the community. I know people in fuckin' Compton that won't say that about people. Therefore, Shamu is a pre-meditated murderous bastard...Shamu The Ripper is a more acceptable name since he doesn't really beat people with his 1992 World Heavyweight Championship Golden Fins of Fury, but more or less drowns them or eats them. Being a killer whale, I think he could do that. I mean, the fucker has a 3-0 record...Shamu 3, dead trainers...a big ole' ziltch.

I'm trying to figure out how that went from game shows to a homicidal sea mammal...but that's the magic of me...I'll go for awhile and I figure you need to get back to watchin redtube, or something and fap this up.

All-in-all, for God's sake, just come up with a decent show...about something that people like to watch...think about it.

People, we purposely drive out of our way to look at a car wreck, or a house burning down...do something with that. Do something you don't have to answer questions that can only be found under the cap of a Snapple bottle, or random shit you read on the internet about psychoneuroimmunology. Try saying that 3 times fast.

Anyway, this has been your feature presentation of PinBall's Rant of the week.

Brought to you by the great people at Inside The Mind of a Ghetto Genius, Sony and Smucker's Peanut Butter...

-PB

Houston, we have a Bin Laden

2012-02-16T16:55:00.000-08:00

RESPECT

2012-02-16T10:01:00.001-08:00

Advice Column: The Fuck Buddy/Sexter

2012-02-16T09:44:00.000-08:00

Dear P-Funk,

So here's the thing. I had sex with an ex-boyfriend and now shit is weird. I know, odd. We specifically agreed, no emotion, just bumping uglies. The backstory goes we dated over a decade ago and through the miracles of Facebook reconnected. And by reconnected I mean we drunk text each other. Repeatedly. I'm going through a divorce and just moved out. He was having a dry stretch of sexlessness. We were both horny. Friends helping friends, right? Now there is more less than inebriated texting about random shit. Daily. "My neck hurts.. How ya feeling?.. " Can we go back to the occasional sext? Semi-frequent fucking? If so, how?

Dear <blank>,

I have to admit that I found this email very intriguing. Why? Because there is a total and complete role reversal going on here. 9.9 times outta ten it's the guy who's looking to keep things strictly sex, and it's the girl who's trying to turn it into more. And by "more" I mean a ring and a wedding and a baby and a dog and a cat and a house with a white picket fence. That is why my head is spinning right now. This is a rare thing indeed. Much like a four leaf clover. But like a four leaf clover that you want to have sex with. Which, actually, I might suggest doing instead of having sex with this guy. As long as you aren't allergic to grass and nature and shit. Cuz if you are, that could get ugly.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: Ex-boyfriends, Ex-husbands, Ex-anything's of any kind? They are Exes for a reason. When something or someone gets an "Ex" put in front of it, that "Ex" needs to stay there. Think of it like genital warts: You really don't want it. And although it looks like you got rid of it, it's actually still there. Lying in wait. Ready to re-emerge when you least expect it and fuck up your life.

Yep. Sometimes Exes are just like the herp. They go away only to come back and get all over your genitals again.

The fact that this all came about because of Facebook doesn't surprise me at all. Facebook is the new internet dating site. But without the fee. And with the added bonus of being able to see much more than one photo of some douche posed sexily in front of his Camaro with a little paragraph below it about how he loves watching Kung-Fu movies and working out on his Soloflex. Facebook can definitely be an awesome place to find yourself a new man. Seriously. One in five divorces are blamed on Facebook each year, so there is obviously more than a little Facebook dating going down. But if you're gonna use the book of face as your own personal dating site, PLEASE choose someone without a goddamn "Ex" in front of their name. There are 250 million people on that fucking website, so do yourself a freaking favor and get yourself someone new! Seriously.

All that stuff that I said up there ^^^? That's really important, kick-ass advice. But unfortunately for both of us, you didn't write this email BEFORE you started "bumping uglies" with this Ex of yours. If you had, you woulda saved yourself a lot of trouble, and saved me from writing this advice column when what I really wanna do is surf the internet for porn. The time spent writing this "advice" to you, is porn-looking time that I will never get back. That's on your conscience, girl. And I hope you can live with it.

And speaking of porn...watching porn is what I suggest you do instead of messing around with this whiner. If this dude is honestly texting you about his neck pain and other shit that you find boring, you need to put a stop to it. What I don't get about people is this: If you can get naked with someone and totally fuck their brains out, scream their name, and put their dick in your mouth (or whatever else), why the fuck can't you be honest and tell them something like "Hey! You are annoying me! All I wanted to do was fuck you, not be your Oprah or your Dr. Oz or your best friend or anything. I just wanted to have an orgasm with something besides my hand. Capish?" And unless you are Amish or really ugly and ashamed of your bodies and fucking in total darkness or something, this dude has seen every inch of your naked body, as well as some really awkward climax-y facial expressions. So why the hell can't you just tell him what you do and don't want from him?

Listen, I don't know if you can get back to just being sexting/fuck buddies or not. But the only way you're gonna find out is to be honest with him. From the information you gave me, I can't tell if he's thinking he has more going with you than sex, or if he WANTS more going with you, or if he is just a lonely whiner. I have no clue. And since I'm really, really smart and intuitive about shit like this, and still have no clue, I'm 100% sure that you don't either. Maybe he thinks you're dating now. Or maybe he's just pathetic. Or maybe he's trying to annoy you on purpose so you will get sick of him and drop him cuz he doesn't have the balls to drop you. Who the fuck knows.

Here's what I would do: Get rid of the Ex. Slather some herpes cream on him and get rid of him good. Then go buy some new vibrators, download some porn, open a bottle of wine and have a date with yourself. Read my column about masturbating (here) if you need some encouragement. What I think you need right now is some "me time." You are going through a divorce. You just moved out. Use your brain for a second: The last thing you need is some other guy in your life. I don't care if it's a relationship or a fuck buddy or what. All it really is, is added drama. Focus on yourself. Get through this divorce. THEN think about finding a new man. "New" meaning one that you haven't already fucked or dated and broken up with. Leave the guys from the past in the past. You're never gonna find yourself a nice new guy if you still have old ones around. What's that old saying? If you loved something and let it go ten years ago and it comes back and you fuck it's brains out then it gets whiney and annoying, kick it in the nads, run away, and pretend that it never was?

Yeah. I'm pretty sure that's how it goes.

How Three Games From Your Past, Prepared Your Punk Ass For The Future

2012-02-15T14:26:00.000-08:00

If there's anything I want you to know about me, it's that I got a dirty mind, a dirty mouth, and a major soft spot for all things "Back In The Day".

It's fun to remember shit from when you were a kid because a lot of that stuff, when applied to today's day and age, has got a "What The Fuck Was THAT About??" factor that is always Through. The. Roof. For example,

"Pogo Balls"...What The Fuck Was THAT About??

"Mork and Mindy"...What The Fuck Was THAT About??

"GUMBY"??...You get the picture.

What the?!?!

You see, that shit makes me laugh, but moreover, it makes me feel special for having witnessed such weird bellbottomed scraps thrown from the Hippie Land of our free-fucking, free-drugging parents…those lucky bastards…thanks for the crack and AIDS assholes, PEACE maaaan, go rape a fucking tree. Ok, sorry, had to get that out. Back on track...

Now, a lot of our childhood experiences were weird and at many times, seemed fruitless, but there's still a bunch of shit, especially the games we played with, that actually prepared us for many important life lessons we still use today!

"What the fuck are you talking about B.?" you may be wondering...

Well, It's my pleasure to share with you:

How Three Games From Your Past, Prepared Your Punk Ass For The Future:

1. Rock 'Em Sock 'Em -- This game was great. Two plastic dudes, one blue, one red and a bright yellow ring. Their arms moved in true boxer fashion. Punching each other was accomplished by a couple of thumb button controllers. It's a simple fight premis that's been around since motherfuckers had fists. Kids loved it because it satiated the violent desire we all had to beat the shit out of one another AND it saved us the trip to the hospital, as well as getting our asses beat by our parents.

Rock 'Em Sock 'Em was ahead of its time because it prepared your thumbs for the Nintendo controllers you didn't even fucking know were coming. More important then that though, it taught the life lesson of: When you find yourself in a fight, you'd better keep beating the other motherfucker 'till his goddamn head pops off -- if not, he's gonna do it to you.

Now that's advice with knowing.

2. Hungry Hungry Hippo -- Four hippos, a bunch of little white balls, and a button that when bashed in a fucking rapid fire frenzy would cause the hippo's heads to slap up and down furiously gobbling the balls. The one with the most balls wins…and that's a fucking lesson right there! But this game was also a winner because it gave irreplaceable inspiration to a slew of "Yo Mama" jokes of which no Snap Fight was complete without. Most of you know what a Snap Fight is, but if not, it's basically two kids engaged in spitting a barrage of insults at one another, designed to embarrass, degrade, and have the crowd yell one "OOOOOOOOO SNAP!!!" louder then the last, thus winning the fight. Without a good round "Yo Mama" jokes, a kid could throw out as many "You so poor….", "You so ugly", and "You so stupid" jokes as he wanted and still be considered a chump, because let's face it, an insult is not an insult until it's about your mother.

"Yo mama is so fat, she look like Hungry Hungry Hippo wit clothes on!"

"Yo mama's like Hungry Hungry Hippo, always after them white balls!"… and the list goes on.

Just for that alone, it was awesome, but what Hungry Hippo really trained you for, was the finger/wrist/arm endurance you needed as a child, to masturbate like none other. The one who could FAP FAP FAP that hippo's ass the fastest and hardest was the one who came out on top, and with that physical know-how (thank you hippo's ass) many a young child's masturbation skills were honed and perfected. As adults, we still use these endurance techniques on ourselves, and if you're not a total loser, then on another person... or 20.

I always called dibs on the pink one...'cause, you know, it looks like your mother.

3. Operation -- Privates barely obscured, flat on this back with a comb over and the red nose of an alchie, our Uncle Bobby never got up to play anything with us, but when he did roll over long enough to cover his balls, he was always down for a game of Operation. The game was simple: pluck as many plastic organs out out of a somewhat surprised looking naked dude with a metal tweezer, but don't let the tweezer touch the sides of the organ hole otherwise "BUZZZZZZZZ!!!!" Not only would homeboy's nose light up RED like a fucking fall-out shelter alarm, a buzzer, more loud and hideous sounding than a $2.00 El Barrio alarm clock would SCREAM, scaring Zips off your tube socked feet. You got paid to successfully disembowel the fucker, and the one with the most malpractice dollars won. So where's the life lesson? Well nothing quite like Operation could prepare you for the immense joint smoking you'd be doing in the teen years to come. First off, that "tweezer" is obviously a fucking roach clip. I mean, look at that shit. Secondly, do you realize how many times practicing the delicate pincer grip you used to precisely grab little white pieces of shit in Operation applied itself inside every fucking cypher you can remember..... as well as the ones you don't?? The passing of teeny tiny ass roaches from one set of hands to the next is no easy task, especially when you're stoned. It can result in many burnt fingers or even the dreaded.. "Oh shit, I just dropped that shit on the floor…..shiiit" I think we all should all take a moment to thank the game of Operation for training kids to not only identify a roach clip, but to keep you, as a teen, from getting Puff Puff and Passed the Fuck OVER.

Oh yeah , and I almost forgot, Operation also taught us valuable biology lessons like that "Water in the Knee" was kept in a little bucket under your skin, and that your heart is actually the shape of a heart… unless it's broken, then it's got a little crack thing in it. Duuuude, that's fucked UP.

All that shit needs is a feather and BOOM!! Roach Clip...get me my roller-skates.

Well, I hope you all take with you, from this, a greater appreciation of the valuable lessons you may or may not have realized three plastic pieces of shit from the 80's taught you.

Breaking down bad grammar

2012-02-15T14:06:00.001-08:00

LSD Baby vs. Spoon

2012-02-15T12:33:00.000-08:00

Those Strange Love Notes

2012-02-15T09:13:00.000-08:00

via - Oddee

Advice Column: How To Make "it" Last Longer

2012-02-14T21:12:00.000-08:00

dear k.piddy -

thanks in advance. ok im finally going to bone this chick how do i make it last. more than 5 min

Sent from my NOOK

No flowery prose. Impressive, sir!

Writing to a two-pump-chump (me) and asking how to make "it" last more than five minutes, is like asking a paraplegic to help you finish the fucking IronMan. Classy, though, the way you called sex with this "chick" you're about to bone "it". I can see why she let you pound her cake. Or, at least give you the allusion you could pound her cake. See? That's how you use words - allusion with brilliant prose. I digress, that's why I'm a blogger, and you have a Nook. How is the Twilight series treating you? Enjoying the whole vampire craze from the comfort of your park bench? Fucking weirdo.

Here's what I do to make "it" last:

1. Pearl Jam - I love Pearl Jam. I have a couple live versions of 'Porch,' 'Even Flow,' and 'Corduroy' memorized. Their entire songs, from a specific concert in the mid 90s can be called up immediately. Nerdy? You betcha. But being able to recall that shit and take your mind off whatever it is you're doing (work, cleaning the toilet, fucking) is fucking priceless. The band or song isn't important. Pick something that cuts to your core and focus! The key is to use something that's so trivial, yet intrinsically important to you, that focusing on it dulls all your other senses (like your dick pounding her vagina). The trick is to fake how involved you still are. Never let your lover see you mouthing the lyrics "I would rather starve than eat your breast." you definitely won't be lasting more than five minutes then. She'll kick your ass right out and won't even say, "you're welcome".

2. Dead Grandma - oldie but a goodie. And if you're not a hill person, you have two to pick from. Even if they're are both alive. If you are a hill person, well, then this excuse never runs out, does it?

3. Masturbate - Seriously, as many times as you can before the event. Wake and stroke. Duck into the office bathroom right after the janitor bleaches the shit out of that hell hole. Be the first one to defile it. Rub one out in your car on your lunch break. Taking the lucky lady out to a candle lit dinner? Jerk it one last time in the restaurant bathroom for good measure. By the time you get her home, you'll last all night...if you can get it up. And oh, if you are fucking her for a good amount of time, you might have to fake like you're busting one because believe me...you jerk off enough times before doing the deed, you won't have anything left to give (at least your cock won't). But hey, it's all about her, right?

--and here's the segue---

4. DRINK MOTHER FUCKER DRINK - Nothing to explain. There is a fine line between fucking-for-days-drunk and Whiskey Dick, but that varies person to person. You're gonna have to research what works for you. From personal experience, I have fucked for days drunk. I have also encountered whiskey dick and the promises and tears that, "This has never happened to me before, I swear!" that immediately follows Whiskey Dick. Be warned, good sir. You get Whiskey Dick, pray to the Fuck God's she's just as fucked up as you are...nothing disappoints a chick more than a man who gets her all worked up, only to have a limp noodle when it's go-time.

Good luck! Keep us posted and happy fucking for more than 5 minutes.

- K. Piddy (not to be confused with P. Diddy)

Don't Fuck With The Riot Police

2012-02-14T21:09:00.000-08:00

Jesus breaks it down...

2012-02-14T14:11:00.000-08:00

The Good Things Store

2012-02-14T14:07:00.001-08:00

Occupy...Her Mouth

2012-02-14T11:40:00.000-08:00

Wrong Whitney big guy

2012-02-14T10:58:00.000-08:00

That's a lot of fucking pubes

2012-02-14T10:14:00.000-08:00

Happy VD

2012-02-14T09:54:00.000-08:00

Seeing as how I live on the East Coast and don't have cable, I had never seen this awesomeness until my vacation in LA. I think this pretty much sums up my Valentines Day, since the only fucker I would consider marrying right now is bacon.

A Valentine's Day package worth looking into...

2012-02-14T05:29:00.000-08:00

When Duckface goes right

2012-02-13T14:00:00.000-08:00

When Facebook "Unfriending" Turns Deadly

2012-02-13T10:13:00.000-08:00

Happy Valentine's Day from Rube Goldberg

2012-02-13T05:59:00.001-08:00

I guess the wrong guy won

2012-02-13T05:45:00.000-08:00

You don't need to speak Spanish to know the crowd didn't agree with the ref's decision. Ouch.

Age is just a number

2012-02-13T05:31:00.001-08:00

No means Yes

2012-02-12T22:06:00.000-08:00

Some Questions Should Never Be Asked

2012-02-12T22:00:00.000-08:00

Valentine's Day: A Lose/Lose for all Men

2012-02-12T21:48:00.000-08:00

If you ask me, February is the definitely the worst month of the year. The only good thing about it, is that it's short. It's only 28 days. Except for when it's 29. And I never fully understood what the hell that was all about. I just assume that the reason it's a short month is cuz the missing days just wanted to jump ship and get the hell out of February. They probably wanted to be part of a summer month. Or maybe even December. And who could blame them? If I was a day I'd much rather be in a sunny/beachy/beer drinking month or a month where everyone's drunk on eggnog and getting an ass-load of presents. And this whole leap year thing? I have no clue about that. I never really paid that much attention in school unless we were playing on those scooter thingies in PE, or learning about our blossoming bodies or cutting up frogs and turning them into marionettes. Yeah. That shit happened.

February sucks. And the reason it sucks is because of one stupid day. Was it the Jackson 5 who sang a song about how that one shitty apple spoiled the whole bunch, girl? Well, Valentine's Day is the rotten-ass apple that makes all the other 27 or 28 or whatever the hell it is, days suck balls. It's guilt by association, you guys.

Since I am technically a female, I will begin by telling you why February sucks, from a female's point of view.

Wait. I can't do that. Why can't I do that? Because from a female's point of view, February does not suck. Okay okay. Not ALL females feel this way. I -for one- think Valentine's Day sucks balls. But to many girls (key word being GIRLS), February is a magical month about love and romance and shit like that. It is a month during which they find out how much their man truly loves them. And how do they find this out, you ask? They find this out by rating everything that happens -or does not happen- on February 14th. Every. Little. Thing.

And I have news for you men of the world: Oftentimes, you just can't win. February sucks for men. And no matter which way you look at it, this whole Valentine's Day is usually a lose/lose situation.

Early in their dating life, a lot of men try to do what's expected of them. And what's expected of them is to be that guy who plans out the perfect Valentine's Day for his girl. This poor guy feels like he's got it in the bag. He's planned for weeks. Maybe even months. He bought her a lovely bracelet. He got a reservation at a romantic restaurant. Ya know, the kind where you have to wear dress-up clothes, eat snails, know which fork is for what, and chew with your mouth closed. He might surprise his girl with some sexy lingerie after dinner. And he probably bought the chocolates in the heart-shaped box. Maybe even a teddy bear. He definitely got long-stemmed roses that the stupid flower shop jacked up to $150.00 for this most special of days. This dude also got the perfect card at Hallmark that totally expresses how he feels. This guy is confident that he has covered all of the bases. This guy went all out.

But guess what? This guy is fucked. And I don't mean that literally. He's fucked because he's not getting fucked. And there are oh so many reasons.

He might be fucked because he chose the wrong restaurant. Maybe a seafood place. And he forgot she's allergic to seafood. Or maybe the place is too fancy, and she didn't have anything to wear. So why the hell did he surprise her like that? If only he'd told her earlier, she could have gone shopping for an outfit! And this bracelet he got her? It's yellow gold. She likes white. All her other jewelry is white, so this won't match. Hasn't he ever noticed? Doesn't he ever even look at her??? And a box of chocolates? Really? Doesn't he remember that she gave up sugar so she could lose a few pounds! Does he not recall that day he said her butt looked fat in those pants?? Okay. Maybe he didn't actually SAY that, but when she asked him if her butt looked fat in those pants he took more than 2 seconds before he said "no" which is the same thing as saying "Bitch, you look like a goddamn hippo!" And a teddy bear? Really? What is she? A third grader? What the fuck is she gonna do with a goddamn teddy bear? Put it on her Strawberry Shortcake comforter next to her Rainbow Brite doll and snuggle it while she looks dreamily at her Ricky Schroeder poster? What the hell IS he? Some kind of pedophile? And roses? Really? How original! She could have bought a new outfit to wear to the fancy-ass fucking restaurant with all the money he spent on those dumb-ass roses! Did he ever think of that? And the card. All he did was sign your name? HIS GODDAMN NAME??? Doesn't he have anything sweet to say to her? He couldn't write her a fucking sentence about how much she means to him? Nothing? And lingerie? Oh. My. Fucking. God. LINGERIE? I hope this asshole doesn't think she doesn't know what THAT'S for! He bought that for himself! What the hell is she gonna do with fancy lingerie? He knows damn well she sleeps in a t-shirt and boxers! Why? Cuz it's comfortable, that's why! We all know he only bought her lingerie cuz he wants to fuck her! And he thinks she's gonna fuck him after all that other shit he messed up? He only signed his fucking name in the goddamn stupid-ass piece of shit Hallmark card he bought her that isn't even special because literally thousands of guys probably bought their girl the same fucking card! CAN'T HE WRITE SOMETHING TO HER FROM HIS GODDAMN HEART????

I told you. This guy is fucked.

But what if he hadn't done anything? If he hadn't done anything, his girl would still be mega-pissed. But this time she'd be pissed because WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU GET ME A BRACELET OR SOME CHOCOLATES OR A TEDDY BEAR OR SOME LINGERIE OR TAKE ME TO A FANCY-ASS DINNER? DON'T YOU EVEN LOVE ME?

That guy is fucked too.

Listen, there's really nothing you can do about it. At least if you are in a certain age-bracket, let's say, 16-30 or so, this is just what's gonna happen. At this age, lots of girls are immature and don't have a clue what they really want. We've all been there. When I was younger I dated guys who gave me nothing and planned nothing, and I got all kinds of pissed, and broke up with them to date guys who gave me things and planned things. Then when those guys gave me things and planned things, they usually weren't the right things, and I felt fucking smothered because of all the attention they were giving me. FOR FUCK SAKE, I CAN'T EVEN BREATHE ANYMORE AND IF I HAVE TO SPEND ONE MORE GODDAMN MINUTE LOOKING AT YOUR FACE I'M GONNA VOMIT ON IT!

Guys. Can't. Win.

The best you can hope for is to make it to the age where the girls turn into women and honestly don't care about that shit anymore. What do WOMEN want? A good man. Someone to help around the house. Help with the kids. Pick up the dry-cleaning every now and then. Take our car in for a wash. Offer to pick up dinner so we don't have to cook. Give us a killer orgasm whenever we're stressed out. Or when we're bored. Listen to us when we talk. Like, actually LISTEN. Be interested in what we're up to. Rent a movie that we wanna see, even if everyone talks in an English accent and wears corsets and the entire movie takes place in a farmhouse. If you do all these things, and your woman still whines about all that ridiculous Valentine's Day shit and compares what she got to what her friends all got and you dread February 14th like you dread the fucking Zombie Apocalypse? If that's the case, then you have a materialistic GIRL on your hands, Not a woman. And your girl is a bitch, which totally sucks for you. So Happy Valentine's Day, and good luck with that.

Bromance Gone Wrong. Oh, so wrong...

2012-02-12T19:39:00.000-08:00

This is a true story. It is a true story of friendship gone so fucking wrong, in the worst fucking way, that I couldn't make it up if I had a lifetime to think about it.

In my town of about 140,000 people, there was a family that was known for its money and its less than honorable business practices. The most unfortunate part about that is that their business was building homes. The dad, we'll call him "Jack", was a fucking hack and a half and Jack passed his bullshit business practices on to his fuckbag of a son, whom we will call "Joe". They've built more shitty homes in our community and fucked over more people than 100 other companies combined.

Around the same time Jack gave the construction company to Joe, my friend, "Karen", started dating this dude "Matt". Matt was just out of college, and living back at home with his parents. The thing about Matt was (and still is)...he is one of the most beautiful men I have ever seen. Almost the perfect male specimen. I say "almost" because I never saw his wang, so I can't say he's actually perfect. The best part about the guy is that he's just as sweet and funny and cool and fun as he is beautiful. I have often thought Karen (or I) should have married that motherfucker. But I digress. When Matt lived at home and was dating Karen, he got in the habit of sleeping with his door locked. Good thinking. How fucking awkward for Mom to walk in while he's banging the big-titted blonde from behind, right?   Sadly, things didn't work out for Matt and Karen at that time and they went their separate ways.

Fast forward a couple years. Matt and Karen run into each other at a local bar. They talk, drink, laugh, dance and have a fucking blast. They start with the "why did we ever break up?" bullshit and they both know it's ON. Karen decides she's gonna take this fucker home and rock his goddamn socks off. As they are on their way to his house, she says "hey, you live in [Metro], why are you going this way?" He says, "Oh, I didn't tell you, I'm the construction manager for [Joe's company] now and I live at his house in [non-Metro]." Joe had a big, fancy house in a local community of nouveau riche assholes, with lots of room to spare, Matt wanted out of his parents' house, they both have money to spend and partying to do...win fucking win, right?

Not so fast...I need to drop this bitch in reverse, because there's more somewhat relevant back story. A few years before this, I was dating Joe's best friend since grade school. We always had to factor this fuck stain into OUR plans because he never fucking had any of his own. I asked him why Joe never went on dates and never had a girlfriend. He said "Joe just has no finesse with women. He's a fucking 23 year old virgin." (Um...red flag, anyone??). It remains unclear these many years later how, when and to whom he actually lost his virginity, but I do know for a fact that it was not until he was 30. You will see why this is important shortly. Stay with me, because I promise on all that is fucking funny, it will be worth it.

Back to the present. Karen and Matt start seeing each other again. Karen is tending bar at night and, more often than not, booty calling Matt when the bar closes because he's usually riding home at that time. Matt comes home one night, wasted as shit. Goes to bed, locks his door as usual. He wakes up in the nicest possible way a short time later. Someone is trying to suck his brains out through his pee-hole and he smiles, says to himself "Fuck, yeah!". All fucking smug and self-satisfied, he does a little yawn, a little stretch, a re-position for maximum comfort. Grab a handful of that bitch's hair, and....WAIT...WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCKING MOTHERFUCKING FUCK?? Matt didn't grab a handful of Karen's hair. Karen's hair is long and blonde and silky fucking soft. What he grabbed was a handful of high and tight. It wasn't Karen. IT. WASN'T. KAREN. Yeah. Soak that in for a minute. Matt thinks his hot-ass, big-titted blonde haired girlfriend is blowing him and it turns out to be his friend, who is also his boss, his roommate and his landlord. As he put it when telling the story: "Do you know what it's like to wake up and find that your best friend not only picked the lock on your bedroom door and crept the fuck in while you were sleeping, but decided he's gonna go ahead and smoke your fucking pig while he's in there?"

Guys, I really want you to soak this the fuck in. Put yourself in Matt's place. What would you do? If I know men, and I think I fucking do, there are a whole lot of you reading this who are suddenly breathing a little heavier, clenching and unclenching your fists (and probably your balloon knots), and thinking to yourself, "I would KILL A MOTHERFUCKER. I'll tell you what Matt did. Matt saw fucking black. People say shit like, "I was so fucking pissed off, dude, I saw red." There was no red for Matt. Straight to fucking black. In one swift motion, he was off the bed with both hands around Joe's neck, slamming his head into the fucking drywall. Over and over and over. When Joe started to show signs of going limp, he slammed his fucking head some more. Some might think this is a bit of an overreaction. I bet most of you motherfuckers won't. Matt picked him up by the front of his t-shirt and slammed his body into the wall so hard, the weasely little fuck-bag squeezed between the 16" on center studs, and flew through two layers of sheetrock.

The next morning, Matt was gone. It was understood that he would not be showing up for work anymore. They never spoke again. Matt is married and divorced with 2 great kids. Joe's married, his wife is a whore who has been cheating on him for years with a fat, slimy lawyer that I used to work for. Justice is truly fucking poetic.

Olive Garden is O.G.

2012-02-12T18:56:00.000-08:00

FAIL in 3, 2, 1...

2012-02-12T16:56:00.000-08:00

Top 10 WTF U.S. Sex Laws

2012-02-12T16:48:00.000-08:00

PinBall's Weekly Rant: 3 Days in the Life of PinBall

2012-02-10T09:02:00.000-08:00

I couldn't decide what really pissed me off or annoyed me this week to the point of no fucking return...but cumulatively this week made me want to arm-wrestle a cement truck.

Well, let's get started shall we?

Ok, so I am a DJ on weekends...(more money then just tattooing)...LusEndZ is my name....Google it.

And since I live near a rather large college town...it just kinda works. Anyway...
I show up for this frat house party on Saturday and like seriously 5 people show up...now, I was expecting possible 30-40 people...not much, so I only charged the host $150 for the night...

Well, at one point in the night, like a group of 6 shows up...now, I knew something was weird when I saw them walk in...the guys rocked tucked-in polo shirts, and fuckin' Dockers. Now, who in their goddamn mind is going to wear that shit to a frat party? And not really that upstanding of one...I mean, it's not the Presidential Country Club.

Second, what the chicks were wearing...God knows how much makeup...enough to make Lady Gaga blush...but I mean really? A frat party...and you look like that? Anyway, everyone's having good time, until the 2 girls and what looks like a mutated rendition of Rosie O'Donnell mixed with a polar bear, start yelling at me for some damn reason....now, to the human mind...logically if there is a loud tone or tunes going away from you, and you have headphones on AND are concentrating on mixing, beat matchin', etc...you're not going to hear outside noises such as these. But the sheer screeching tone of their voices mixed together got my attention.

I proceeded to yell out, "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?!"...as I lowered the music, they were yelling at me to play "whopp"...now, I have just recently came back into this country, from a year stay out of it...I need some time to catch up on things...I said what is that? They gave me a face of which I assume someone just put a puppy in a bag and threw it into the river...then that river was thrown into outter space...and they were pissed and flipped out. Now, as you can tell, I don't take lightly to that, so...

Whoa, bitch...don't get crazy just because I don't play "whopp". That's the reason I charge $300 an hour, and have sold out clubs...met Wiz Khalifa, Usher, Lil Boosie, Toby fucking Keith...that's the fucking reason...because I'm not a DJ...you wanna give this a shot? See what you can do? Just because daddy didn't buy you the right color fuckin' BMW for your 16th birthday, doesn't mean you know shit about this business. I've been doing this for damn near 10 years. I was selling out clubs when I was your age...fuckin' 8 years ago.

What? Do you think you're cool drinking Coors Light at a frat house when you're 17? Really hun? Get the fuck outta here...

The blond one of the bunch then said, my boyfriend's here...you better watch it...hun, are you fuckin' serious? I'll bench press that little piece of shit and beat his tucked-in polo shirt wearin' ass with the stiletto's he's wearing (sign of respect to the one and only J-Wunder). Get the fuck outta here before I burn your car and you have to have daddy pick you up. Because I'm sure he'll be pleased to find you at a college frat party drinking Coors Light underage, when you said you were gonna spend the night watching "Twilight" at Stacy's house.

Shut the fuck up, and get the fuck out...

Now, the host of the party and the other 4 people were watchin' this whole thing go down.

After the Abercrombie mafia left, Michael (the host), walks up to me, and proceeds to throw two $20 bills on my table and say, "THAT WAS FUCKING AWESOME!"

Well, that was a good night, and I still got my $150 plus another $40...not bad for just hangin' out, drinking a few, and completely crushing the dreams of today's high-schoolers.

As my week progressed...things just got worse...I recently purchased a 20oz Redbull, consumed it, and as soon as I was done, took a nap...I was not amused...that's fuckin' $4 right there...

I learned that, no matter what the situation is, especially in a stairwell, gravity will always win.

Then later in the week, for example, last night...I was at Walmart with my roommate (flatmate), and some things were said, and I ended up getting punched in the face with a gallon jug of milk. Now, I don't know if that's ever happened to you...but taking a Mike Tyson style beating to the premier part of my dome-piece with a 128 fluid ounces of moo juice, was just not that exciting for me. I wanted to whoop the ever living fuck out of him, but I just could not get over the shock of being hit with a gallon of milk...it's like my brain just froze the fuck up, and said, "Did that really just happen?" How do I respond to this situation...and just shut down. Now, I would highly appreciate it, if someone could tell me how to handle a situation like this...in case it happens in the future.

Then, as my week got worse...I woke up today...and had to write this long fucking rant, about how it sucks to be me.

Again, this is PinBall warning you...life sucks...but makes for some funny shit.

- PinBall

Stallion or Fox?

2012-02-10T08:29:00.000-08:00

Men, I love 'em but why can't I find that one motherfucker whose got it all? Yeah, you dudes may be thinking the same thing about us, but go ahead and shut the fuck up, it's my turn.

I never thought that as a perky titted 20 something I could or would ever supersede the sexual stride I was riding on at that time. Sex was easy, jeans were tight, and there were an army of dicks out there at attention, standing upright, like "Ooo OOooo Mista Kotta pick me!! Oooo Pick Mee!!". I was like a man with a pussy… and a nice rack…and no adam's apple….I thought about sex so much I couldn't eat a hot dog, do a squat thrust, or enjoy a nice, tall, Alabama Slamma without getting hot and bothered. It was great, I took no prisoners, and ALWAYS came out on top…or on all fours…or upside-down…I'll get back to that later.

Fast forward about none-of-your-fucking-business-years later, and here I sit older, wiser but STILL, hornier than the 3 foot corns on my grammy's toes….. wow that almost made my pussy dry, but not quite. My point is, is that just when I thought my urge to get rammed (horny reference) would, if not subside, then at least chill the fuck out, it has instead, all cum to a head…goddamnit, sorry, my bad. The problem is, that with age comes experience, and a deeper understanding about just what the fuck I want out of fucking. As a 20 year old sex hungry bitch, I had a thought process just like my male counterparts, meaning, there wasn't much thought going on at all. It was boomboobmbooom, NEXT, boomboombooom NEXT…you get the pattern. Now though, I'm much more aware of the in's and out's of my body and so I need a little more then just boomboomboom, not to say I need less sex, just more "thought out" sex…more intentional sex... more like boomCHICKAboom sex.

So where do I find it? This Boom AND the CHICKA all rolled into one glorious protruding cocked package?? Well, there's two kinds of men in my book and so, one of two places to look. The Young, Dumb And Full Of Cum Studs, and The Sexy Silver Fox Daddies. The separation in age may vary but the pro's and con's of fucking one as opposed to the other is clearer than an extra small condom stretched over and extra big dick. And here they are…

Young, Dumb and Full of Cum:
The name says it all, and what the fuck could be wrong with THAT!? These bastards can fuck the tail off a jackrabbit and look goddamn good doin it too…just ask a mirror. This is good if you're looking to add to your video collection, or in my case library. They also can usually go round after round, recharging in just about the time it takes you to recenter that ponytail on your head, y'know the one that just about got ripped off. They also don't ask a lot of stupid fucking questions. They don't really care about your baggage, and even if you told 'em they'd be much more interested in grasping your tittes then your dramatic intellectual references. They got no problem buying you drinks with their last dollar, and their testosterone is so pumped that if another dude steps to you, they just might fight like a couple of bull sharks over a bloody tuna. Their strength is evident and carries right over into the back alley, or the bedroom if you get that fucking far. They can spin you on their finger like a Harlem Globetrotter does a basketball, and will flip your ass around like a pizza man does dough. When this animal shoots it, you fucking KNOW, because his howl gets the hair on the backs of wolves bristling in sheer cowardice.

Alphamotherfuckingmale right there. Now, the bad. The same things that make the Stud good, also are the things that lead to his downfall. He'll spend his last dollar it's true, but did I mention that's outta the twenty spot he's got in his wallet? And you can bet your bottom dollar, this beautiful beast will ask to be spotted for the cab ride home, or an egg sandwich the next morning, if you let him stay that long. A small price to pay maybe, but wait there's more. Yeah, he'll get his face down in your muff before he gets a fucking knock-knock joke but he's also not great at taking direction. It's like telling a steam train to slow down -- Does Not Compute. More experienced women know the sticky tenderness that comes with taking one's time in the bedroom. The slow grind that gets lips quivering, and subtle nipple pinches that transform boobs in to glass cutters. These Young Studs don't yet know about such nuances and don't really care. They're there to POUND SOME ASS. Which is great, and will shed a pretty calorie or two when all is done and done, but they're also quite deaf to the fact that many women communicate in the bedroom like humpback whales. Uttering unearthly moans like a language in itself, that are complex clues to what she needs. While Studs are like pussy scuba divers, the Sexy Fox, many times is more like a pussy oceanographer, familiar with, and more apt to decipher our calls of the wild, and fuck us accordingly...segway to the…

Sexy Silver Fox:
Like I was saying, these motherfuckers know how to take their time. With some sweet sexy talk, they can draw a woman out of her clothes and have them floating in air like Bugs Bunny on the wings of a freshly baked pie's aroma. Their ability to feign sensitivity is unsurpassed and can fool even the most cynical bitch. Don't get me wrong, they're still a fucking MAN but they can make eye-contact deeper then that Stud can shove his cock down your throat, and believe me, bitches LOVE eye-contact. That might be a crocodile tear on his cheek as you tell him the story of how you scuffed your favorite heels, but just the fact that he's willing to bullshit you so thoroughly in the first place, will have you more spread then butter on an English Muffin, and weaker in the knees then a blunt smokin' jellyfish. Because he's older, The Silver Fox usually has a better job and therefore more duckettes to spend on getting your ass trashed. He's embarrassed to borrow a dollar and can many times charge a hotel room quick fast… if you get that fucking far. And as for the fucking? Well the Young Stud can lift and throw a bitch around better then that orange Rock motherfucker on "The Fantastic Four" which, don't get me wrong, is thrilling, but the Fox can have your toes curling with the simple flick of a tongue… he's just slick like that. The Sexy Fox is subtle and suave but lacks the sheer stamina of the stately Stud. He usually takes more work to get hard especially if he's been drinking, and he may drive a nice car, but his sex drive could use a serious tune-up. He doesn't think about fucking as much and might catch a dreaded feeling or two. Whether that's bad, is up to you. As usual, I'm not touching the relationship possibilities, because, well, because My name is Dazzels, not Dr PhuckingPhil.

Here's the bottom line. If you wanna get pounded till the capillaries in your corneas explode like bloody fucking fireworks, rein yourself in a Young Stallion Stud. For me, I'd rather snare trap me a Silver Fox and let his sleek coat, polish my G-spot to a shiny finish. As for the sex drive tune-up? Well, there's a pill for that.

Advice Column: Women Need O-Faces Too

2012-02-09T10:02:00.000-08:00

Dear Ghetto Genius,

Ok, let's get this straight real quick that I'm a huge fan, such a huge fan that I'm actually writting you because I can't figure this out myself. I'm not emailing my mother so give it to me straight, no chase. Last night me and my dude were gettin into it. Shit was heatin up quick. Generly foreplay consists of me working my mouth magic and him using just his hands. Well as you can tell from the way this is going I want him to return the favor bigtime!! I might get that "special treat" once every 6 weeks or more. Oh and when I'm lucky enough to recieve he never stays long enough. I could be right there about to explode and he will switch it up stop or jus jump right in. I get the fact that some men dont like it, they should do it bc i cant tell you how many times i didnt want to go down and still put forth my best. Anyways on to the second half of the issue.

Ok foreplay..kinda check. P in Va-g...check. feels good? Well duh!! Do i know he aint gunna last?? FUCK YEAH! So he stops in order to hold back his O, which we all know doesnt work if you just hold still...just delays it 5 seconds. I asked him again to lick me silly and he said he doesnt feel like and gets back to pumpin. Nuts rolls over and im left with my O. But then he goes on saying shit like "It could rub/lick/ fuck your pussy all night and still not get you off!!" Help me!!

Why does he give up? And why is he so selfish about his? Why after 4 years of successfully banging is he giving up on his skills? Is it me? Is it him? Whats goin on. Help is much appreciated.

Oh dont say more blow jobs because after last night im cutting it all off untill i get what i need. And what i need it a nut from him not myself. J-wunder i look forword to your response.

- S.R.

p.s. sorry i stopped caring about grammer and shit, this shit pisses me off.

Dear S.R.,

EAT PUSSY. IT’S RUDE NOT TO.

See those words right here ^^^??? I live by that rule. You wanna know why? Because nothing gets me more fucking excited then pleasing a woman. Bitches love to cum. Bitches also love when a dude knows how to fucking muff dive. Me…I love to make bitches O-Face and I LOVE to go pearl diving. Would you believe me if I told you, I’d rather eat a bitch out then get my dick sucked? True story.

Now, some of you who just read that (specifically my dudes) are thinking, “This mother fucker is either 1) Stupid as fuck, 2) Is seeking female approval or 3) Both.” And to be honest, it’s none of those. What I’m about to tell you, 20% will call bullshit, 60% will be turned on and the other 20%...well, you’re just gonna laugh for the mere fact that it doesn’t matter what the fuck I say, you love my ass any way.

The Golden Rule of Sex: Men need to eat pussy and please a woman first, because when they do, bitches will return the favor 10 times over.

Let me repeat that as if I’m fucking screaming it on top of a 30 story fucking building for the world to hear…

MEN NEED TO EAT PUSSY AND PLEASE A WOMAN FIRST, BECAUSE WHEN THEY DO, BITCHES WILL RETUREN THE FAVOR 10 TIMES OVER.

Women control the universe. I’m fucking convinced. Why? Because pussy is power, that’s why mother fuckers. Men need women. Chicks don’t need men (only whores and 33% of sluts do). Women can go months…shit, years without a fucking man by their side. All those bitches need, is a good vibrator, some Ben & Jerry’s ice cream and all 24 seasons of Sex in the fucking City to pretty much be set for fucking life.

See, when sex is involved in the beginning of almost every relationship, two things are certain: 1) Pussy will be eaten and 2) Dick will be sucked. It's like a common courtesy...almost like a "welcome to the club" type deal. I like to call this, the "Honeymoon stage of fucking" - where anything and everything happens. From blow jobs, carpet munching, 69'ing, 15 different positions, furniture breaking, back seat car boning, blah, blah, fucking blah. It's great, right? Everything is hot and really heavy. THEN, the relationship starts to settle in...a year passes, then two years, 4-5 years have passed with flying fucking colors. And while all that time passed on by, you know what happened? Each one of those things I listed (and more), started to evaporate into thin fucking air. POOF BITCH.

69? How bout 60 go fuck yourself. Reverse cowgirl with a dash of doggy? Eh, I'm in a missionary position mood this month...plus it's Shark Week and I don't want to miss out on that. Makeout session in the restaurant? Bitch, are you fucking crazy? People will see us!!!

Yeah, truth be told, that shit does actually happen to mother fuckers. All that fire, that passion, that intensity, that sextivity (new word: you're welcome)...gone. 75% of it said, "Peace the fuck out!" But if there is one thing, one thing I know for certain, it's that the even balance between sucking dick and eating pussy will have gone from 50/50 to a measly 95% cock sucking session to a 5% I'll put my tongue on your clit for 4 seconds before I stick my dick in you session. And as for sex? Well, consider that comparison to be the same. The man who used to fuck you for a good 30 minutes to an hour, only needs 3 dick pumps and is good for the next few days. While you...poor little you, has to turn over, fire up your Dick-a-tron 3000 just to get off. BTW - if that were me, I'd make sure you were screaming shit til you lost your voice. What can I say? Pleasing bitches is a gift I love to give...at any hour of the day. But I digress...

So why? Why is this happening in your situation? The answer is simple. Mother fucker got lazy. It's not because YOU'RE doing something wrong. And it's not because your pussy smells like 10 day old Chow Mein from Ming's, Fuk Lo Restaurant. It's because he's comfortable. I mean, you have been dating for 4 years. If that doesn't spell comfortable to a man, then I don't know what does. "So why was he this fuck machine that ate my pussy like it was a 10 dollar buffet for so long?" Well Sweet Tits Magee, it's because he wanted to keep you happy. How do you keep a girl happy? You fuck her til she goes blind and eat her snatch like that shit is the only meal in this goddamn galaxy...until shit gets comfortable. See where I'm going with this?

Before I start to make no more sense than I already fucking have, your situation is kinda like this:

It's like two friends who go out to eat. At first, you split the bill. Then he pays. Then you pay. Then you split it again. Then you pay. Then you pay again. And again. And again. To the point that he doesn't pull out his wallet because why? He's gonna expect you to pay...which you more than likely will. If he does, it's because you have to ask or he feels bad. It's called feeling obligated.

You let him be too comfortable. That's why he's winning. You're still sucking his cock. While in turn, he flicks your bead around for 3 minutes, gives you 2.5 dick pumps, cums, turns over then saws logs all night long. Shame on you young lady. If you would have known any better, you would have realized that if he really wants your pussy, you would make him work for it. Because men know, if you work for pussy and think of a woman first, you don't have to ask her twice on giving you what you want and need. Hence, why I love not only eating pussy, but pleasing every woman I encounter. I never had to ask a chick to give me a blowjob because I knew the favor would come back 10 times over. True story.

Make him work for the pootie because I promise you, how it was 4 years ago, will be even better. However, you might want to check on his 3 dick pump thing though...something about that ain't right.

Today's advice is free, so enjoy it.

J-Wunderful

"I'll take a dime bag of stupid"

2012-02-09T08:01:00.000-08:00

...and a fucking vacation to Fiji

2012-02-09T08:00:00.000-08:00

McStabbin'

2012-02-08T15:08:00.000-08:00

I'm lovin' it! And I'm not sharin' it.

A Pennsylvania man was arrested on Wednesday night after he allegedly stabbed his brother several times over a McDonald's brownie, The Times-Tribune reported.

Cops said that Erik "Eggs" Cain and his brother Gene Cain got into an argument when Gene cut the treat in half. The share tactic was apparently enough to enrage Erik, because he picked up three steak knives and allegedly slashed and stabbed Gene in the left forearm, left shoulder and right wrist.

"[Gene] thought his brother was going to kill him," so he responded by throwing a television at Erik, police Sgt. Joseph Laguzzi wrote in a report obtained by the newspaper.

Erik fled, but was later collared and charged with aggravated assault, reckless endangerment, harassment and disorderly conduct.

But it wasn't Erik's first run-in with cops. At the time of the alleged stabbing incident, Erik had been out on bail after being charged with slashing his girlfriend last month, The Associated Press reported.

via - Huffington Post

Advice Column: Sandwiches - They're for Everyone

2012-02-08T14:32:00.000-08:00

Dear L-Train:

Hello from London! So what do guys really think about skinny girls, or chicks that are very body conscious? Turn off or turn on?

From,

Minxy London. :)

Dear Minxy:

Cute name...if you're a goddamn kitten. Here at the Ghetto Genius HQ, we strive to spread humor, knowledge, good advice, and your Mom's legs as far and as often as possible. We're glad you came to us for answers to your first-world fucking dilemma, because we are full of them. Answers, that is. Not first-world fucking dilemmas.

Your question really has two parts, the first being: "What do guys really think about skinny girls?" Let me answer that question with a question: "Do skinny girls have vaginas?" Because that's what guys like. Vaginas. The package they come in is usually of no fucking consequence. You feel me? There are some guys who (thankfully) don't mind a skinny chick. That 6 ft., 98 lb. bitch who stole your boyfriend in high school proves that shit. Before everybody gets their thongs in tiny little wads, let me preface what I'm about to say by saying that I will rank on a skinny bitch any fucking day because I AM a skinny bitch. I am blessed with genes that allow me to eat whatever the fuck I want and never gain weight. As a skinny bitch, I have never had a bit of fucking trouble landing the dong of my choosing. You know why? Because I have a vagina. And, perhaps equally as important, I am comfortable as a mother fucker in my own skin. My face doesn't say "I'm a skinny bitch, will you love me anyway?" My goddamn face says "I'm a skinny bitch, and you fucking LOVE me."

In most cases, though not in my own case, a skinny girl is probably easier and cheaper to date. The skinny bitch has a salad for dinner and only wants a thimble of Diet Coke at the fucking movies. She only needs one seat to travel in coach. Her guy never asks to use her prairie skirt as a tent for his fucking 4th of July bash. She rides free on the subway because she turns sideways and blows right by the goddamn turnstile. See? So many fucking advantages to dating a skinny chick.

Of the disadvantages to dating a skinny girl, here is an example of what is not attractive:

This shit is not healthy and it is not sexy. Guys, don't lie - it looks like if you didn't break the bitch in half, banging away on those hipbones would hurt like a mother fucker and would leave bruises that look like you got head from the devil himself. I believe (and I'm pretty sure the guys will back me up on this) that a man wants a woman who looks and feels like a woman. Soft and curvy in all the right places. More like this:

Tell me that picture isn't fucking hot. Go 'head. I'll wait while you come up with some stupid "reason" not to like it.   I only threw it in there because I personally find her hot as fuck. Sometimes, I gotta do shit for me. Don't hate. Here's the thing. Some guys like skinny chicks, some guys like a thick chick. What's most important is who the chick is and how she presents herself. (If you didn't read J's column on what men want, you should go read that shit now:   What Men Want - Part 1 and What Men Want - Part 2.

The second part of your question asks if guys like girls who are "very body conscious", the answer is yes. And no. There's a huge goddamn difference between being "body conscious" and being "self-conscious".   Self-conscious chicks are insecure and needy as fuck. There is nothing worse than some fucking broad who needs constant validation from her man: "Does this look okay?" "Does this make me look fat?"   Shut the fuck up. You're an adult, don't you know what looks good? You shouldn't have to fish for fucking compliments. When you get dressed and walk out the door, you should know your man is going to want to watch you walk away.  Conscious of your body, how you move it, how he digs it. Guys like women who are together - inside and out. Know what is most flattering for your body type and wear it.  Present yourself as the hottest (yet humblest) bitch on the planet and you will most likely have to beat motherfuckers off with a stick.

The point is, we are all different and we are all fucking beautiful - short, fat, tall, skinny, whatever.  Nobody is Miss America except Miss Fucking America, but there is something about everyone that someone else can love. Whether you're a little overweight or a little underweight (don't get me started on that fucking double standard), the most important thing is just to be fucking healthy. Again, this applies inside and out. Weight issues can fuck up a girl's head like nothing else and if you let it run your life, it will...well, it will run your fucking life.   Be the best you can fucking be and the rest will sort itself out. Unless you look like Shrek, chances are some motherfucker somewhere in the world will have you.

To skinny bitches everywhere: You're welcome. Now go eat a fuckin' sandwich. And throw some bacon on that motherfucker.

L-Train

Shhhhhh, Don't Tell!

2012-02-08T11:26:00.000-08:00

Adam Sandler Secret - Watch today’s top amazing videos here

Advice Column: The Man is Bringing You Down

2012-02-08T09:20:00.000-08:00

Dear J-Shap,

My name is Mary Jane and im a server/shift manager at a steakhouse. ive been a server for 13 years and am 33 years. recently a new propreiter took over the store i work in. there are alot of reasons not to like the guy, but im not going to. it would take forever. besides for the most part he leaves me be. except for saturdays. that shift is 7 to 8 hours long after 5 or 6 hours i really need a cig break. i dont take advantage of it, some servers make it social hour out there. anyway the reason i get so mad is bc when he says no instead of just giving me the keys to get out the back door so i can smoke he is literally chomping on nicorete gum. he admited it when i asked him. so how do i call my hyprocrite boss out, and tell him im an adult and i know more than he does when its appropriate to take a 60 second break during my 8 hour shift that will not sacrafice our customer care and satisfaction. sorry i know i had sine runin sentences, and im sure u misspelled a few words,but i am baked and its 530 in the morning. i need to be back to work at 3.

Thanks
Mary Jane

Dear Mary Jane,

First off, my hat goes off to you for doing that job at all, let alone 13 mother fucking years. I'd rather clean elephant shit than do your job. I'm not kidding. I hate fucking people...how the hell do you do that shit?

I can tell you were stoned when you wrote this as some of it really didn't make any fucking sense, but I did the best that I could to understand it. In all honesty, I had to get stoned to understand some of it.

Here are a few options to take care of your current situation:

Option One:
Career change fucker. All of those guys with the exception of very few in that position are total douchebag slap dicks. Either suck it up and deal with it as you have all these years, or get another kind of job. Shit, why don't you try to go for some type of management position in the restaurant industry? Your ass has over a decade of goddamn experience for fuck's sake. You either suck and they don't want to give you that type of position or you have just been taken advantage of for many years and never given the opportunity for that position. Get out or move the fuck up goddamnit!

Option Two:
Buy Nicorette gum, just like your hypocritical boss that doesn't take breaks, and adapt to what rules he has made for you. He's your boss and unfortunately makes the rules. Whining isn't gonna get you anywhere so shut the fuck up, stop bitching and start chewing! BTW - is your restaurant that fucking busy everyday that you can't take a fucking smoke break? Hmmm...I call horse shit.

Option Three:
Quit your job and stick it to the man! Join the 99% in your local area and go live in a park for a long fucking time, bitch instead of doing something with your life, smell like asshole, protest shit that you don't know what the hell you're protesting about...wah, wah, fucking waaaahhhhh....

Option Four:
Get really, really, really, really, really high before work (like wake and bake stoned) and tell your boss to go fuck himself! It could be like a scene out of the movie Half Baked..."Fuck YOU, fuck YOU, fuck YOU, you're cool, and FUCK YOU...I'm out!" I've always wanted to do that. But before you walk out, have the cooks hook you up with a good ass meal to-go. Then walk the fuck out. Let me know what that prick of a boss says. Thanks!

Option Five:
Ask one of your other co-workers that takes a smoke break regularly (apparently with no problem) that you would like to go out with them when he/she takes a break. One puff is better than no puffs if the bossman comes to get you, right? Consider it a "quickie". I mean, if guys can cum within two dick pumps while banging a chick, I'm sure you an suck at least half a cig down in half that time. Fucking and smoking aren't on the same playing field so compare it to sucking cock and smoking a cig. Yeah, that sounds much, much better.

Option Six:
To put it simple, grow some balls and just go out there and smoke a damn cigarette without his permission. I see there being more positive than negative to just doing it. The worst that could happen is your ass gets fucking fired (which sounds like a good idea since you hate him so much and you get to collect unemployment) or he tells you to come back inside. By that time, you already had a few puffs in and feel a little better than before. It sounds like he needs you more than you need him, so just go out there and smoke the fucking cigarette. Stop bitching and just DO IT!

On that note, go get high and good luck! (Still waiting on that heffer, Julio)

Wait, wait, wait...you know what? I just realized after I wrote this (while still being really fucking high), we are fucking talking about you being afraid to smoke a goddamn cigarette on your break. ARE YOU FUCKING SHITTING ME?

I need to stop getting high when writing advice column responses.

J-Shap

There is no "I" in Happyness

2012-02-08T08:38:00.000-08:00

Stop it B!: The Bathroom Model

2012-02-08T07:53:00.001-08:00

Stay out of the water

2012-02-08T07:34:00.000-08:00

VALENTINE'S DAY GIFT IDEAS FOR YOUR MAN

2012-02-07T16:36:00.000-08:00

Sex Doll Suit

2012-02-07T14:55:00.000-08:00

WOW ! New medium weight catsuit with integegral hood, mittens and feet. The ultimate love doll suit with open mouth, surprised expression, rear zip (from crown of head to below waist), feature nipples and open crotch with dark pink edging (or crotch zip if preferred). Please note if ordering for a man - the breast cups are empty and you will need to provide your own padding/falsies. Please make sure you supply a valid email address as I may need additional sizing information. (Any information you can supply with the order will be useful.)

FAQs

Q. Can the gloves be made with fingers? A. Sorry they cannot.

Q. Can the attached hood be made as per the standard doll faced hood? A. Yes

Q. Does the male version look like a man? A. No it is exactly the same but cut to fit the male size chart.

Q. Can an internal/external sheath be fitted in the crotch or mouth area? A. No

via - LiqLaq

The Old Guy Still Got It!

2012-02-07T10:12:00.000-08:00

Epic Dad

2012-02-07T10:09:00.000-08:00

The Coyote and I

2012-02-07T09:18:00.001-08:00

Pussy, Pussy, Pussy. Everywhere.

2012-02-07T08:41:00.000-08:00

This is why that booth at the fair where you can make your own music video should be banned forever. However, this is still better than some of the shit music Ke$ha makes....

Get your mind out of gutter

2012-02-07T08:40:00.000-08:00

It's for removing wrinkles around the mouth. Yeah, that's exactly what I thought it was for too.

Advice Column: House on Whore Island

2012-02-06T14:04:00.000-08:00

Dear J,

I, along with millions of other women with sex drives, would like to know when should sex take place? There seems to be a fine line between girl to see more than once and whore. And, most women are smart enough to know sex does not equal love or a relationship. So, we are having a great first date. Here comes second date, even better. And we're horny! When can we bang?

Love,
Horny but not a Whore

Dear HBNAW,

J asked me to take this one and my first response to your query was how is this even a question? Are you under 18? Super Religious? Are you like Britney Spears and under the care of a conservator-ship and can’t be trusted to make your own decisions? If ‘none of the above’ is the answer to the aforementioned items, then it should be pretty obvious when the right time to have sex is. It is whenever the fuck you want. That is one of my most favorite things about being an alleged grown up. I can get my freak on whenever I damn well please and the only person I have to answer to about it, is me.

Call me crazy, but I am getting the feeling you need a little love and reassurance to assuage your feelings of sluttiness, so I am going to give you another sure fire way to determine whether or not it is time to bang. The next time you are out with a guy and he is giving you the sex eyes and telling you that Pride and Prejudice is his favorite book, too, politely excuse yourself and go to the ladies room. Go into a stall and pull down your panties. Take a finger and touch yourself, down there. If there is some wetness that is not pee-pee, go back out and finish whatever you're doing on your date and then casually invite him back to your place, the alley outback, a motel - wherever (I don't know your life, so I can't tell you where your best boning venue is) and then let shit get real.

I know, I know... as women, we are constantly being told that if we bang too soon we are whores, and if we wait too long, we are prudes. So what’s a girl to do when she has a raging lady boner and wants to knock boots? You knock the fucking boots, that’s what you do, then you deal with the outcome. If a guy is really into you, whether it’s been 5 minutes or 5 dates, when you bang, he is not going to think you are a whore. He is going to think you are an amazing creature sent from heaven with a chocha del oro - that’s "golden pussy" for any of you who are not bi-lingual.

On the flip, if he thinks you are whore after you have sex, more than likely it was not because you slept with him too soon, but because he pegged you for a whore long before you let him into your lady cave, and that was why he wanted to get with you in the first place. You were your own self-fulfilling prophecy of sluttiness and you both got what you wanted. So what you need to do now is swallow your Plan-B like you always do and figure out why guys think you are a gold medalist in the whore-lympics. That’s all for your to figure out, though. I don’t judge anyone for liking to make the O-Face as much as possible. Fuck it, if I wasn’t such a spoiled bitch who loves things like electricity, running water and driving my car, I would give it all up, go live under a bridge and be the most amazing homeless whore on the planet. But alas, that is not in the cards right now. I have digressed pretty far into homeless whore territory, so let’s get back to you.

Something you put in your letter made my brain scratch like a needle across a record. What planet are you living on where you think most women don't equate sex with love or a relationship? I live on earth, and here on earth most girls think if a guy slips them the dick he is also picking out china patterns and deciding who is going to be his best man. FYI - he's not. All he is thinking about is that he just blew a load and how he would like a sammich. Even if he really likes you. So what you have to be able to do is say to yourself, “Self, I just had some sex that was so hot that the paint peeled off the wall and if I never see this guy again, then so be it,” and then you actually have to be ok with it. Or, you have to be ready for this guy to start shitting with the door open, because now you have a boyfriend. Like I said before - the outcome really has nothing to do with what date you let him stuff you like an envelope, but more with everything that led up to that moment.

I think the bigger picture is not that you think this man is going to think you are easy and not call you again, it’s that you, or maybe even your friends might think you are a whore if you give it up too quickly. That is something you have to let go of and get over. And then maybe, you can get under someone who wants to get on you and who won’t think you are a whore at all, no matter how many dates it has or hasn’t been.

And now I am spent. Happy fucking, whores!

Rapid Fire with J-Wunder

2012-02-06T14:01:00.000-08:00

In today's Rapid Fire: Single White MILF seeking J-Wunder for one night stand ;)

1. Would you do a 46 yr old bat-shit crazy white woman?

JW: Only if you have accomplished the necessary rules to getting in my pants. What rules, you might ask? These ones: What Men Want - Part 1 and What Men Want - Part 2. Outside of that, you would need to have a really sexy name too...something like, Anya (like on-ya face). However, when your question included the term "bat-shit crazy white woman", all that does to me is two fucking things: 1) Make my dick go completely limp and 2) Make me think of the crazy bitch from Fatal Attraction. I don't care how golden your pussy is...if you put the word "crazy" in a question, I'm running bitch.

2. If I'm gentle, will you let me suck your balls?

JW: Absolutely. Nothing better then a man getting his fucking yam bag sucked on. However, you are a 46 year-old "bat-shit crazy white woman" who would more than likely chew on my sack like it was a pack of Big League Chew. My balls are used for slapping against asses, not being abused like Gobstoppers.

3. How about finger your ass (gently, of course)?

JW: If you were normal sounding, I would say, "Only if you take me to dinner and drinks first...gotta set the stage for that shit." However, the thought of you still being a "bat-shit crazy white woman" who seems like would kill me after I came on your chest, doesn't give me a positive vibe on your fingering my asshole. I mean, for all I know, you might shove a hot curling iron up my asshole and think that shit was hilarious and yet, a turn-on. You probably would lick my ass too, huh?

4. Ever had a threesome with a chick and a guy?

JW: First of all, my name is not The RINGER (Check out his funny ass story here: A Night I Wish I Never Would Remember) Secondly, NO CROSSING THE STREAMS!!! I'm all for fucking, but fucking a chick with another broski of mine? Fuck all that. I ain't gay and have nothing against my fellow gay peeps but come the fuck on...the thought of some possible dick-to-dick touching is a mother fucking no-no in my fuck book. Bitch, you are horny, huh?

5. How many pairs of shoes do you currently own?

JW: I am not a woman so this does not apply. Let me ask YOU a question...how many dudes have you fucking killed and buried in the desert? How the fuck did you go from "bat-shit crazy white woman" questions, to some shit Joan fucking Rivers would ask me if I was a goddamn Super Model? Next.

6. How often should a woman make the 1st move in the bedroom?

JW: I prefer she make the first move in the kitchen, I can take it from there. But do not lead with the finger in the ass. AT ALL. BTW - you seem like an aggressive bitch. One who would knock a dudes ass out with chloroform then have him wake up hours later with a carrot stuck up his ass, sucking on a pacifier. Just sayin'.

7. Why are bowling shirts and shoes so ugly?

JW: Bitch, do you have split personalities or something? Usually there's a theme to what the fuck people ask me. You're all over the goddamn map. Like a whore looking to fuck EVERYTHING that gets in her way (even inanimate objects). To answer your fucking question...I happen to look amazing in bowling attire so I don't understand your question.

8. What is your favorite adult beverage?

JW: The alcoholic kind. Shit, I thought you knew, Crazy Spice? In all honesty, you can never go wrong with a good beer, a straight up martini or a very good aged scotch. If it's all about tastes, sign me up for any of those. If it's all about getting fucked up...shit...I'll drink Listerine with a 40 of Old English. However, as of late, I'm on an American Honey kick. That shit is mother fucking delicious. Big shout out to Anya and her friend introducing me to such sweet nectar.

9. What is your favorite type of kinky sex to practice? Any fetishes?

JW: Again, if your name is Anya and you have accomplished rules 1-6 on "What Men Want", game on. See, sex is something that's all about adaptation. Just because you're a kinky mother fucker, doesn't necessarily mean the broad is gonna think what you're doing is an absolute turn-on. Trust me. I learned this the hard way back in college. I brought some chick back to my pad and thought it was the right time to introduce her to some shit I learned from a porn I was watching during finals week. Lets just say it was an awkward experience to say the least. In regards to fetishes...fucking is my fetish. Does that work?

10. What is a good, free, safe from viruses, porn site?

JW: Try YouPorn, Porn Hub...hell, from the sound of things, you might see yourself on those fucking sites. What's your name again?

Got questions for the Ghetto Genius, J-Wunder? Send to: jwunder33@gmail.com and let the truth be told.

Seriously, send some shit over.

The Gentlemen's Rant: Valentine's Day

2012-02-06T12:01:00.001-08:00

How Men Look at a Female's FB Profile Pic

2012-02-06T08:05:00.000-08:00

Finish this proverb...

2012-02-06T07:53:00.000-08:00

About Last Night...

2012-02-03T13:31:00.000-08:00

No one is perfect. Despite your best efforts, hook ups don’t always go as planned so this probably isn’t the first time you’ve heard the phrase “it happens to a lot of people…”. Since bad sex story skeletons lurk in the back of every closet, we might as well embrace them. Presented without comment, some of our favorite horrible hook up texts.

(310): Well the candle wax mightve been sexy if he didn’t drop the candle and light half my bed on fire

(302): I swear this girl is like a Cross between Danny Devito and Anne Heche….the Lesbian Years.

(404): He gets a blow job and all I get is a huge scar on my arm … how is this fair?

(812): This is the first time I have ever hoped it’s poison ivy on my cock

(817): After 4 hours of foreplay he passed out and almost immediately peed in my bed. Naked. Like a fountain. Then tried to deny it in the morning by saying he just sweats a lot.

(773): She made me put my jeans under her mattress so that I wouldn’t leave in the morning while she was still sleeping. Apparently I just look like “that guy”.

(718): He just reenacted his orgasm in front of my roommates….using a squeeze bottle of mayonnaise.

(+03): Dude, you walked in on me 5 times each times you had a different person with you. And each time you lifted the covers up and said ‘whats going on in here’

(661): I had a long pep-talk with my penis that ended in “I love you, I’ll try harder and I’m sorry.”

(716): He bought me Ben & Jerrys and then apologized for the fact that he was going to fall asleep before we could have sex

via - TFLN

Take that, Sarah McLachlan

2012-02-03T10:53:00.000-08:00

Mmmmm...CAKE!

2012-02-03T09:22:00.001-08:00

Something worth paying for after a drunk night out...

2012-02-03T09:13:00.000-08:00

More like, Megan "I Ate A" Fox

2012-02-03T09:07:00.001-08:00

The Best Rejection Letter Rejection Letter

2012-02-03T08:44:00.000-08:00

via - Reddit

Advice Column: Woman Hater On The Loose

2012-02-03T08:24:00.000-08:00

Dear P-Funk,

I have a friend on Facebook, actually an old friend of mine, who is driving me crazy with her pictures. It's not new pictures that she posts all the time, either, although God knows she does enough of those, too. No, these are old pictures she "shares" at random for seemingly no reason at all, and of course it always includes her painted up, cougar-looking face. This chick is in her early 40's, and while she is somewhat pretty, the amount of make-up and ever-changing hair colors is just too much. She is always posting pictures from some club she was at 7 months ago, or of her and some random friend that she left behind. She's the type that thinks she's so beautiful, when she really isn't all that. I don't want to block or delete her...I just want to bitch...and punch her in the fucking face for all the shared pics!!! Why do people feel the need to constantly repost the same pictures?

Thanks,
Pic Reposter Hater

Dear Pic Reposter Hater,

I have to admit that after re-reading your email at least 5 times, I was a little upset. I could have either rubbed one out or chugged a fucking cold and refreshing beer (or two) in the time I've spent pondering that email. And drinking beer and masturbating are two of my top ten favorite things. But I had to waste my precious "me time" re-reading your email so that I could try to figure out just what the hell it was that you wanted to know. Your "official" question is "Why do people feel the need to constantly repost the same pictures?" And basically, if I were just gonna straight up answer that boring-ass question, it would go something like this:

Dear "Me Time" Ruiner,

Maybe this person lost their camera. Maybe this person's scanner is broken. Maybe this person only looks good at certain angles, so they post and re-post only the photos that were taken at those particular angles. Maybe this person is being held captive by a psychopath who likes to tie people up, hack into their Facebook accounts, and re-post photos of their victims until everyone on their friend list gets annoyed. Maybe this person recently suffered a horribly disfiguring freak accident and now looks like a meatloaf (or THE Meatloaf, cuz let's face it: he ain't pretty either) and so she re-posts old photos over and over again in the hopes that her Facebook friends will remember her the way she was. And if that's the case, I bet you feel pretty shitty right now for whining about it.

And Now I Need A Beer,
P-Funk

Basically, if that up there were to happen, J-Wunder probably wouldn't publish this advice column. Cuz ya know what? It's pretty short and it's pretty sucky. But thankfully, I can read between some lines like a motherfucker. What lines? The lines you wrote in your email. As a person who is often surrounded by super-annoying, super-passive-aggressive people who never EVER say what they mean, I have become somewhat of a reading between the lines expert. And let me tell you something: You have a whole shitload of lines here.

So since I have already answered your actual question, let's rewind a bit and look at your email again.

Basically there is this girl on Facebook that is driving you crazy. You say you can't stand her. And that is probably completely true. HOWEVER...I am going to go out a limb here and guess that you are also totally jealous of her. Like, distractingly and irrationally jealous of her. And guess what? That was a really short-ass limb I just went out on. I literally only had to move, like, 2 centimeters to the right. And not even really move inasmuch, as ever so slightly, lean a little.

Now this is the point where you talk out loud to your computer screen about how wrong I am.

Are you done?

Ok then.

Shall we continue?

You're probably wondering where in the hell I got this ridiculous idea from. How do I possibly have the nerve to think that you could be jealous of this bitch? Well, here's how: Not only did you take the time to write an email about her for really no reason at all, but you are also devoting a helluvalot of time to looking at her photos. So much time that you actually recognize them when they are re-posted again. Fact: I don't even recognize MY OWN goddamn photos when I post them again. I'm always posting shit that I think nobody has seen. Because why? Because I just don't pay that much attention to myself, let alone some other chick on Facebook that I don't even like. Add to that the fact that you are not only hating on her hair, make-up, and how often she goes to clubs or whatever, but are also talking about how "she thinks she's so beautiful, when she really isn't all that." Yep. Add those things together and what do we get? Jealousy. Scratch that. MEGA JEALOUSY. Scratch that...in the words of J-Wunder, "A MOTHER FUCKING HATER."

Here you go arguing with your computer screen again.

Listen, if this was just some stupid girl who annoyed you, then you would either hide her from your News Feed or just un-friend her and get rid of her once and for all. But you don't. You even say, "I don't want to block or delete her...I just want to bitch...and punch her in the fucking face for all the shared pics!!!" And yeah. You said that with THREE goddamn exclamation points!!!

WHY don't you want to block or delete her? Because you are so damn jealous of her. Jealous to the point of being slightly stalkery. We all have people that we hate, and one of the most awesome things about Facebook is that they are much easier to get rid of than the people we hate in real life. Real life doesn't have any buttons for de-friending or hiding someone. And I for one, won't be worshipping at the church of that twatty Zuckerburg until it does. But Facebook DOES have them. And if you weren't so jealous of this girl, you'd use them. But you don't. Because why? Because you WANT to keep an eye on her. You WANT to see what she's wearing. You WANT to look at her make-up and hairstyles. You WANT to see what clubs she's at and who she's with. Even though nothing she is doing has ANY fucking effect on your life whatsoever.

And ya know what? You're not the only girl who does this. In fact, I would venture to guess that at least 10 outta 10 women have been guilty of this at one time or another. There's a reason that I only trust a handful of women. Here's a fact for you: Most women aren't happy unless they have another woman to hate. Most women don't really like other women all that much. They say they do, but they talk behind each other's backs. They lie to each other's faces. They tell each other that outfit looks good or that hairstyle is beautiful when they really think it looks like shit. And ya know what? They are usually insanely happy that the other woman looks like shit.

Women have a tendency to look at every other woman on the planet as some kind of competition. Most women won't admit it, but it's true. And part of the reason they won't admit it, is because they don't even realize it. They just immediately hate a chick for having all of the things that they don't. Or for being all of the things that they aren't. And unfortunately they don't have the self-awareness to understand why. I can't even count the amount of times I've met a chick and she has looked me up and down so closely and so judgey that it makes me want to remove her eyeballs with a spork. Women judge. And if they judge that you might possibly be thinner, fitter, cuter, smarter, funnier, wealthier, or more interesting than they are....they are not only super jealous of you, but they also hate your fucking guts. And an annoying thing about women is, they will almost never tell you that they hate you. Nope. They will act like fake-ass bitches and pretend to adore you, while secretly telling everyone they cross paths with that you are a stupid whore and daydreaming about your demise.

And guess what? That's exactly what you are doing here. You are jealous of this Facebook chick. Soooooo jealous that you hate her and wanna punch her. And that is not only completely retarded, but also a total waste of energy. While this chick is out there living her life, going to clubs, and having fun with her friends, you are sitting at your computer looking at her pictures and wasting your life hating her. And guess what else? She doesn't even know it. And she probably wouldn't even care.

So my advice to you is to get the hell over it. You need to stop wasting your time looking at her photos and hating on every damn thing that she's doing. And since you're pretty addicted to it, the only way you're gonna be able to do that is by un-friending her. So un-friend her. Then maybe call up some of your friends and put some make-up on, do your hair, get a cute outfit and go to some clubs and take some damn photos of your own to look at. In other words, go get your own life instead of being so fucking jealous of hers.

That Just Fucking Happened,

P-Funk

PS - R.I.P. Don Cornelius

J-Wunder's Guide to "What Men Want" - Part 2

2012-02-02T15:04:00.000-08:00

Now that Part 1 is out of the way, here are the last three rules to make sure what you're doing has Mr. McSteamy digging your hot little ass. Shall we?

4) The best expectations to have are NONE.

Some of you ladies read my 4th rule and are probably like, "WTF, J-Wunderful...a lady ALWAYS has to have expectations when meeting a guy." Well, you know what? Fuck that, and fuck you for thinking that. You wanna know why first dates fail within minutes? Because bitches like to have a goddamn laundry list of expectations. I love you ladies like you wouldn't fucking believe, but you need to STOP THIS MOTHER FUCKING SHIT IMMEDIATELY. Why? Because not only will you disappoint yourself but, the guy that you're with...yeah, remember him...he will read into that shit so fucking fast, that he'll instantly and immediately be turned off. What do you think this is...a fucking job interview? You want a guy who you can grow to like, not put together your fucking TPS reports every first Monday of the goddamn month. This is why NO EXPECTATIONS ARE THE BEST EXPECTATIONS.

FACT: When you have no expectations, the greatest things will happen. This probably makes no fucking sense to a lot of you, but think about it. If you go into a situation without expecting anything but a fucking drink and some Fettucini Al-fucking-fredo, you're more than likely gonna be yourself, play it by ear and see where it goes. Now, don't shake your fucking head like you do this all the time because you don't. Anyone who is everyone ALWAYS go into these situations with a guard up. Altering their personality based on not letting someone see who they really are. We're all fucking guilty of putting on a persona that doesn't define us....and that's fucking normal so calm the fuck down, Ghost Rider. However, men don't fucking want that. Matter of fact, men fucking hate that. If we wanted something sugar coated, we'd eat some goddamn Frosted Flakes. Real fucking talk. Men want women who don't have expectations because we want to see who they really are. We aren't even together yet, so why put together a list of, "how I want my perfect boyfriend to be". Men like to call that "putting on a fucking front". Expectations when meeting a guy is like herpes...no one wants a part of it.

No expectations translates to "being in the moment" and making yourself comfortable. What fucking good does a list of expectations do if you can't be yourself, right? Exactly. Loosen up, chill the fuck out, and don't be expecting anything but being real. You do that, I fucking swear to the God's, that dude will dig you. Know what else? You're gonna be diggin' his ass too.

5) There's a difference between being funny and being FUNNY.

"Geez J-Wunder...this is another NO-BRAINER! I make guys laugh ALL.THE.TIME. Hell, I'm just like one of the guys. This rule is pointless. Been there, done that." Is it ladies? Is it fucking really pointless? Let me bust some fucking knowledge to you for a second...

There's a difference between being funny and being FUNNY. Sure you may have a great sense of humor and sure you may make guys laugh all the fucking time. Congratu-fucking-lations. You're the next mother fucking Eddie Murphy. Whoop-a-dee fucking doo! The reality is, guys don't want "their girl" to be "one of the guys". If you are, guess what? Two things will happen: 1) They'll treat you like a fucking sister and 2) They'll become an awkward fuck buddy. I get that you like sex, so do men. But if you want a relationship with a guy, a fuck buddy ain't the way to go.

Being FUNNY to a guy is being clever...basically, a smart ass. It's saying some random shit that comes from left field at the right time...at the right moment. It's stimulating a dudes mind by saying something that wouldn't be funny if a dude said it. Don't get me wrong...a dirty joke is never a bad thing. Men dig it. However, hearing a dirty joke and off the wall shit over and over again, is going to make a dude want to punch you, not date you. It's all fun and games until you start acting more like a man than a woman.

6) Lips seal the deal.

5 rules - conquered...LIKE A BOSS!!! Pack this party up and lets start our journey into the mother fucking sunset, right? One would think. That's why there's 6 rules, not 5.

If I were to ask 1 million people (including those who have never touched another human being), "Are you a good kisser?" You know what 1 million people would fucking say? "I'm an AMAZING KISSER!!!" I move my tongue this way, move my mouth that way...blah, blah, blah go fuck yourself and get the fuck outta here with that shit.

Listen and listen good. No one is a "good kisser" if you ain't feeling it. That's like saying, you know how to fuck, but if someone is just gonna fucking lay there like a dead fish, guess what? You're gonna be a dead fish too. FACT.

People, kissing is about emotion. Emotion you feel about the person you're into. Emotion you get from what's between your legs. It's those 5 fucking rules working out for you. Because I'll bet my fucking soul to the devil that if you gave me one chick who claimed to be an amazing kisser and one who nailed rules 1-5, the chick who nailed those rules is going to win all fucking day long. Wanna know why? I'll tell you why...your emotion plus what's going on in your mouth, just made THAT guy, putty in your hands...you kissed him so fucking good, you even impressed yourself. It's like an out of body experience that you don't want to let go of.

I wouldn't be telling you this if it wasn't true. You nail rules 1-5, top it off with #6 and you'll be on your way to some good ass company and amazing fucking.

You have my fucking word.

Scissor Locked with J-Shap: Decisions, Decisions

2012-02-02T11:41:00.000-08:00

Dear J-Shap,

Recently, I haven't been into guys lately. I'm bored with sex and men as a whole. To be honest, I've been thinking about "playing for the other team". Since you're a lesbian, is what I'm feeling normal? Can guys turn you off that much that you want to start carpet munching? I'm open to seeking out other women, I just want to make sure I'm not losing my mind. Your advice would be helpful.

Thanks for your help,

Open Minded

Dear Open Minded,

I have three answers to your issue (maybe more but I’m really stoned right now and I can’t count). You see if you are gay, you KNOW…YOU FUCKING KNOW you are gay. There are NO fucking doubts. You might only be worried about what other people think but you KNOW deep down inside that you are. Since age 2, I never played with a fucking doll (no Barbie’s in my house), I always dressed up as Don Mattingly (I would even have my mom put the black stuff under my eyes so I could be just like HIM.) and I hated girls, they had cooties. Fast forwarding to post-high school, I only dated guys. Why you ask? It was what society (and my parents) accepted and that’s what I tried to do and I KNEW that shit wasn’t for me. I didn’t get bored with guys, I just didn’t want to pretend anymore. It wasn’t boredom, it just didn't feel right.

Is what you are feeling normal? It could be if you are truly into chicks and not dudes. It’s one or the other…if you are playing for both teams, you are a fucking FLOATER. A fucking FLOATER is someone who is NOT gay and is pretending to be gay (it ends up being a convenient phase). So that means you are bored with a certain dude’s dick and fooling around with chick’s is your current cup of tea. I certainly don’t blame you…boobs are fucking awesome and what better thing in the world is to have your awesome boobs and some other girl’s really awesome boobs. #WINNING

In sum, I recommend you give it a try if you are 100% open with the chick you ended hooking up with. That girl might actually be a true lesbo and fucking with a lesbo is not a smart thing to do. 98.4 % of them end up moving in with their girlfriend within the first two weeks of dating (FACT). What this means is that they get attached mother fuckin real quick and you ain’t seen drama until you’ve seen lesbo drama. They take your psycho ass plus their psycho ass and take it to a whole new level of drama (you better pray they don’t have their period). So let her know that you are experimenting or whatever before she gets started working on the move in date. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!!!!

If it feels icky and outright weird, you ain’t a lesbo. If it is just “fun”, you are a horny girl that wants to get fucked by all (an equal opportunity fucker). If you are thinking of the move in date, welcome to the other team!

Cheers bitch,

J-Shap

What the fuck were you thinking when you looked in the mirror?

2012-02-02T08:38:00.000-08:00

I know some of you are reading this, licking your chops, wondering what woman or group of women I am going to kick off their self-made pedastal today. Well, I hate to break it to you, but as you can see from the picture above, today I am focusing on the gents. Particularly, their faces. More particularly, their facial hair.

Men's facial hair is almost as much of a hot topic as a lady's vag hair. And like the downtown lady mop, everyone has an opinion, a taste or a preference of what they like and don't like. Just for the record, I likes me a lady who is bald below, but when it comes to a man that is completely dependent on the person. I have seen men who I think are sexy as fuck with facial hair and then when I saw them with out it, I was all, "Huh, I wanted to hit that? Must have been beard-goggles." On the other hand, I have seen some clean shaven men who suddenly don a moustache and voila! Chris Hanson is knocking on their door, asking them where they got that white van and puppy from, and if they knew the girl on the internet they were talking to was 15.

However, there is one type of facial hair that not even Sean Connery can make sexy. Yes, I have a Sean Connery fetish. He is sexy as fuck, even if he is 183. His voice alone is liquid panty remover. That man has rocked facial hair off and on since before he fucked your mom or your grandma, but the one thing that not even that Scotsman could make sexy is the Chin Strap.

A Chin Strap has to be the most ridiculous fucking thing a man can do to his face. It's like the Chola eyebrows of men's facial hair. Most of them look like they were drawn on with Sharpies, too. It looks like a porn star's pussy hair on the face, if it is one of the thin ones. If it is one of the thick ones, then the guy just looks Amish and instead of wanting to fuck him, I want him to churn some butter for me. I want to meet the first motherfucker who thought "I am going to shave this pencil thin moustache and beard around my face and bitches are gonna go NUTS for it." Newflash. Looking like a busted, 3rd rate, wanna be Back Street boy is not going to get you laid. Unless, the girl has some Chola eyebrows. I shudder to think of what those babies are going to look like, with all that fucked up facial hair going on.

When I see some fucker sporting the Chin Strap, thinking he is awesome in his Affliction shirt and that shit is crooked, I laugh my fucking ass off. Can't you tape that shit off, or something and get your lines right? If you are going to have a facial equvalent of a landing strip, the least you can do is make that shit tight and even. I can't even go into people who actually put designs and shit into their chin strap. That douchbaggery makes me want to punch them in their taint. And those guys who have that full, Amish-looking, Children of the Corn-creepy as fuck shit- Why? Why? Why? Do you want to look like you have a permanet case of "rape-face?" Because you do, Rapey McRaperstein.

All of this hate for the chin strap was brought to the surface by the waiter I had at lunch yesterday. Here I am, at a restaurant with my best friend, who was visitng from out of town, and we are basking in the warm sun and enjoying the people watching. All of a sudden this motherfucker with the most rapey voice I have ever heard and the most busted 1999 Chin Strap came over to take our drink order. I couldn't even focus on the task at hand because I was so disgustmerized (see what I did there, yep- new word) by his facial hair I could only order water. I was so fucked up over this I had to text a guy friend of mine (who also happens to have some sexy ass facial hair) and ask him his opinion of this facial fuckery. We were all in agreement. Chin-Strap = BAD. I thought maybe I just had a case of the bitchies that day, but thankfully my opinion was validated as being true and correct.

I want to put this into some perspective for the men who think that this is some sexy ass shit on them. The time you spend grooming that pencil thin chin strap could be time spent grooming me. With your dick. And I am more likely to actually let you do this if every time I see your face I don't have flashbacks to my days in the club as a raver girl. So, put your shiny shirt away, shave that shit proper OR let it grown into some sexy facial hair and I will show you my landing strip. Oh wait, I don't have one. But with that fuckery on your face you will never actually see if I am telling the truth about
it or not.

This PSA has been brought to you by the coalition to end Chin Straps, and I approve this message.

Language Barrier

2012-02-02T05:49:00.000-08:00

Party of?????

2012-02-02T05:44:00.001-08:00

How to get laid at a drive-thru

2012-02-02T05:39:00.001-08:00

B. Dazzles Fucket List

2012-02-01T20:43:00.000-08:00

You know that old song, the one that goes, "These are a few of my favorite things"? Well, I'm a little motherfuckin' heated right now because I just heard that song and there was a lot of shit talk about kittens, satin sashes and a bunch of other cutesy, useless crap, but nowhere in the whole goddamn ditty does it mention the glorious act of fucking! I even rewound that shit to make sure my ears weren't deceiving me…and yes, it was on tape cassette. And yes, I still have a tape cassette player…fuck off. What I'm trying to say is that I'm fuckin' flabbergasted that anyone with a dick or a pussy and a pulse, could write a whole song dedicated to their favorite shit and pick a brown paper package tied up with some string over a brown paper bag, stuffed with a fifth of whiskey and night of layin' some pipe down? Maybe if that "package" had a big ol' double dong in it, but otherwise, I'm pretty sure I'd prefer an evening of wet, sloshin', erectile motherfuckin' function. Thank you, but you can keep your lame-ass box, Sound of Music loser.

Now if you're like me, you know exactly where I'm coming from. It's not that I'm some kind of nympho...no, no, that word has more shitty connotations stuck to it than a goddamn dingleberry. I'm pretty much just acknowledging the fact that sex is fucking great! I mean, if I HAD to label myself, it would be waaay classier anyway...like say, a Copulation Connoisseur, or perhaps, a Purveyor of Pussy, or maybe even a Missionary of the Missionary -- not a fucking nympho.

Why do I love it so? Because sex can embody more emotions than an unmedicated schizo but yet, the outcome, (if you know what the fuck you're doing) is pleasantly predictable. As my buddy Ghetto Genius would say, "O-faces all around". What's better than that?? Sex is like motherfucking Crazy Glue. That shit'll fix just about anything. No, I can't hang from an iron girter in a hard hat with it, but a hard cock can certainly have me hangin' from the ceiling fan, and that's a fact.

If you don't believe in the healing power of fucking, let me give you a couple of quick examples.

Fighting with your man? Take it out on each other with an angry fuckfest. Blacken his eye with your boobs, and he just might hold you down and make you scream his "real" name, instead of, "You Fucking Asshole!!" And when all is done and done, you're not so angry after all, now are you?

Your cat just died? Cry it out girl, go ahead, sob right into your lovers neck...and when he gives you that sympathy hug, you know the one that grazes the side of your tit, don't pull away in grief, let that motherfucker make it allllll better. Let him dry your tears with his tongue. Let him make your pussy on his face, the only pussy on your mind…what cat? I had a fucking cat?

Just got promoted? Feeling like a pig in shit? What better way to cap off the day then an evening of squealing like a motherfucking piggy in the bedroom? Or the kitchen? Or the fucking patio?? Any situation, any day, adding a dash of sex just makes shit better.

I could go on, but that ain't what this article's about. Being a self proclaimed sexpert, I'm sure all y'all astute motherfuckers have probably deduced by now, that me and my hoo-ha, have enjoyed more then many freaky deeky sexperiments, and in doing so, I'm proud to share with you all, what I call, "B. Dazzles Fucket List". That's right, it's like a Bucket List of fuckin. It's basically just some sexin' techniques that are not just recommended by yours truly, but are considered MUST DO'S either before you die, or before your pussy goes dry -- (or for dudes, your dick goes limp) which ever cums first!

So no more wasting time because every second you waste is one less second of potentially havin' a dick inya….

1. All dressed up to get down.

Most of you have probably done some version of this, but if not, let me expound…time tested, and cock approved, "Role Playing" or "Dressing Up", has always been a simple and satisfying go-to technique for couples who wanna freshen up an otherwise ho-hum sex life as well as singles wanting to get a little wild without necessarily going to jail (Take it from Mr. Wunder, jail ain't no fun). Putting on a little outfit is almost like putting on a disguise -- and therefore, it's kind of like fuckin' a stranger for a night. Now, after being married or with the same motherfucker for longer than you'd like to remember, that shit is an exciting ass prospect! It's like a one night stand sans STDs -- WIN WIN right there. "Well how do I know just what to wear Dazzles?", you might be wondering. It could be anything from a sexy police outfit, to a pair of stilettos, to a goddamn Hamburgler costume. Robble, Robble bitches. Since sex is a sport of the buff kind, almost anything could be considered to some sextent, dressing up. Before you run to the Halloween store though, just make sure you have had at least an implied conversation with your partner about the kind of fantasies that might turn them on. The last thing you want to do is to pop out the bathroom in some motherfuckin' crotchless clown costume while your man is watching Poltergeist because now, instead of getting that rainbow afro pulled from the back with a red nose reach around, you're cleaning shit off the sheets and trying to pull your terrified man out from under the bed in some big ass shoes which (take it from me -- a bitch who's been there) is no small feat…

By the way, men can dress up too. See, that's the beauty of the whole thing, it's free for interpretation. I find that I like MY man in nothing more than a bowler hat and a pubic mustache made simply from me sitting on his face. Throw in a muff muffled Groucho Marks impression in the mix, and it's O-O-Over for me. TMI? Well get used to it, because that's my middle fucking name. Moving on.

2. Sorry, I'm a little tied up at the moment.

You know what's hotter than having your arms and legs tied down while your partner tickles and teases you all over…with his tongue? Yeah, me neither. There's something really sexy about being totally helpless and at the mercy of another, especially if you're used to being a controlling fucking cunt like me. And then, on the other side of the slapped ass, I've heard many times about those quiet bitches, you know, the ones who scurry around their cubicles, squeaking out inaudible Starbucks orders like a fuckin' Jennifer Tilly mouse with laryngitis, who suddenly transform into some crazy, Xena type shit at the chance to strap a motherfucker down. The bottom line is, tying up your partner and being tied up is a perfect way to unleash that other side of you...the side of you that gets no play in your everyday, but is dying to cum the fuck out and say, "Heeeeey!!!" And like "Role Playing"...it's not just for the chicks. It can give your man an opportunity to either get a cock/ego stroke by being the master of the bedroom, AND your body, or be the one who finally gets a chance to let go of that stereotypical male power trip bullshit, and let you take the reins for a change. You might be surprised, but sometimes being able to be submissive may just get his wang harder then that ball gag you shoved in his mouth… "Oh, what's that hun? I'm sorry I can't understand you with that thing in your mouth… you say Timmy's in trouble? ShhShhShhh, here, let me just kiss you riiiight there, good boy…. " Catch my drift? Ok, let's continue before this chair I'm sitting on turns in to a fuckin' slip and slide.

3. Three is for Threesome.

Yeah, that's right. I see you trying to run away. Stop being a fuckin' prude, listen up and quit yer squirming. This is a FUCKET LIST after all bitches, so suck it up. Think of a threesome as a sexual sky dive. Meaning, it's one of those things where you just have to shut the fuck up, close your eyes, and jump. Talk to your partner, get a participant, (I'll leave my email with J-Wunder bitches) get drunk, get a porno, get naked and get it ON. Whether it be another bitch in your bed or another bro, four hands are better than two, two mouths are better than one, and two dicks, even if one is a strap-on …. well figure it out fine friends, it's basic math. Still not convinced? Start shit off slow if you wanna be a pussy about it. Use some "toys" to simulate a third set of privates...trust me, your man won't mind. Perhaps invite a cute bitch over, get drunk and play some strip poker strategically, followed up by a couple rounds of "Dare or Dare". Maybe one day when your man's home with his hot friend, accidentally stumble out of the bathroom in that crotchless clown costume, (just make sure you wiped all the shit off it) and lighten up the mood by making a joke about how many guys could fit into a clown…………car. What I'm saying is that there's ways of warming up your hoo-ha to the idea of a threesome...that is, if you're still feeling too tight cunted to just jump the fuck in. I'm telling you though, heed momma Dazzles cause I won't steer ya wrong even though I'm drunk as fuck. Before your pussy pashaws the idea of penetration in any form, do yourself a favor -- give the "skydive of fucking" a try. Remember, the words out of the mouths of most first time skydivers as soon as their feet touch the ground, will also be the words out of your trembling fuckin mouth after your first threesome O-face: "I wanna do that shit AGAIN!" Gauranteed.

4. What was that you said? I can't hear you with this dick in my ass.

4 out of 5 bitches have already done it, but only 1 out of 5 bitches admit it. You know why? Because only 1 out of 5 guys know what the fuck they're doing when it comes to anal sex and so, those 3 other tight-lipped bitches would rather fucking forget it. Confused? Let me break it down, for y'all -- and DUDES, you especially, listen up.

A rose by any other name is still a motherfucking rose, and so, an ass is an ass is a motherfuckin' ass. It ain't a pussy, it ain't a mouth. It's an ASS...and guess what dudes, you have one too. Wanna know what it feels like to have something just shoved the fuck up there?? Then try it to yourselves. Seeing stars? Yeah, well so do we when y'all decide you're just gonna fucking "go for it!" IANALogy #1: When it's 20 fucking degrees outside, do you just jump in your car and drive the fuck off? No, you gotta let that bitch warm up a bit. See where I'm goin with this? How do you warm up an ass you ask? ANALogy #2: Well, you can't just shove a molly in a motherfuckin' nail hole can you? No, you gotta work that nail hole, carefully pre-drill that nail hole, and then, when you think it's ready…really fucking ready, you gotta tap that molly in real motherfuckin' S-L-O-W. Don't blow out the drywall. ANALogy #3: You dudes and your dicks always just want to barge the fuck in like you own the damn place, but what y'all fail to remember is that party crashers usually end up getting kicked the fuck out. So, knock gently on that back door, wait until you're invited the fuck in, and ALWAYS, ALWAYS bring a gift...something to wet the goddamn "whistle". Being a backdoor man doesn't mean it's time to be a goddamn gangster, so clean yourself up and be an anal gentleman. A lot of bitches have been turned off by ass thugs...they're scarred and most are unwilling to ever allow another motherfucker NEAR their backdoor. Don't be an ass thug, be an ass gentleman. The 1 out of 5 bitches that have been blessed to meet an ass gentleman, are pleased to fucking tell you: There's nothing like anal done RIGHT. An O-face of a whOOOle other Origin. So guys, if you're doing it wrong, cut that fuckin' shit out because now you got no excuses. And ladies, if you're scarred, get over it, motherfuckers make mistakes, and if you never tried it, get your buttberry popped, and don't worry, a little shit on a dick never killed no man.

Ok, so I think I'm gonna stop right here. I could tell you it's because I don't want to overwhelm y'all with my massive inventory of nasty girl moves, or I could say it's because I've reached my word limit on the article...but those would both be lies. The truth is, all this sex talk has got my clit swollen to the size of a baseball, and if I don't take care of that shit right now, it might turn blue and fall the fuck off.

Good luck, and keep fuckin' fuckers!

B. TMI Dazzles

PinBall’s Weekly Rant: Smartphones, Facebook, Money and Social Networks

2012-02-01T18:57:00.000-08:00

I have a certain phone service provider…and it costs extra to make my phone a mobile hotspot.

Now, I understand the fact that I use a “Smartphone”…but we all can fucking see that these things ain’t that smart because that damn auto cucumber…auto correct...god donut...

But let’s get to my question…if I can go on the internet, on my phone for no extra charge…why the fuck do I have to pay extra to make my phone a mobile hotspot? When, to my knowledge, I’m using the same internet as before. I mean, more porn, yea, but that’s besides the point. I'm guilty to be a daily commuter of this social mafia known as Facebook. I don’t use Twitter because I don’t like being followed in real life, let alone the fact I have to “Tweet” someone. Who the hell does that? That's like me seeing a girl I used to go to high school with and saying, “Hey, I remember you from high-school…I’m gonna make a cute little fucking bird noise at you. Hopefully you respond so I can jackoff to your public pictures, without feeling like a total loser.”

But back to the question at hand…honestly…why the fuck do I have to pay more of my money to receive a service I use on my fucking phone anyway? Can someone please answer this for me…because I’m fucking pissed. That’s 20 extra bucks I can use to buy smokes, or a bottle of Old Crow…and feel sorry for myself watching Kevin Costner in the dark, falling asleep to my own tears wondering where the hell I went wrong in life.

I understand that everyone is trying to make a buck these days…hell, who isn’t? That’s why you pull the “balla card”…the more you look like you have money, the more money you’ll pick up. I’ve proven this system. I own a tattoo shop, and I’m covered in tattoos. Women my age, apparently find this attractive. I mean, I'm one sexy sonofabitch, but stop dreaming of my ass and listen for a second...”Hey, I’m up here”. Now take this for instance, if you drive a nice vehicle, dress decent, you’ll look like your successful and not living in your mom’s basement, paying rent. I know quite a few moms that would say, oh don’t talk to him, he’s got tattoos…he’s a bad boy...well, maybe at heart I am, but like your mom said, I have tattoos…what do tattoos cost? I’ve never had anyone try to pay for some ink with hamburgers or a lawn mowing job. It just doesn’t work like that…so the girl’s thinkin, hey…he’s got some paper to spend…why not spend it on me? As a matter of fact hun, I shall...when I really don’t…but that’s the “balla card” hook, line, and sinker…I just reel in the prospect(s).

Or how bout when they say, "Hey, hit me up on Facebook." Because no girl gives their damn number anymore…which is a complete waste of time…because if you have to look them up, you’ll find some other girl with the same name who’s twice as hot and has bigger tits. She may be 18, but to the law, that’s legal. Anyway, I really just don’t dig this social networking shit either. To me, it’s just a way for dirty ole bastards like me, to watch girls from high-school get progressively fatter, or pump out 8 kids. After that? Who would want them anyway? Ted Bundy maybe. But the selection has severely narrowed…

And you see what all this is caused by?

FUCKING PHONE COMPANIES TRYING TO GET MORE MONEY!

If someone would step up and say, "Hey, Verizon, AT&T, or whatever the fuck else…stop charging me extra for services, I already use." Then maybe, we could all enjoy life and social networking a little more.

I blame the cell phone services for this day in age. Why can’t it be simple again? Back in Dr. Hunter S. Thompson’s time, you could do all the drugs you wanted in Vegas, have a camera crew follow you and no one would know until you wrote a movie about it. But thanks to Social Networking, people get fired from work, suspended from school, or make national news in 38.6 seconds. And what causes that news to make national? Goddamn Smartphones.

You know what, I’m too pissed to talk anymore…someone text me.

-PB

Love at first robbery

2012-02-01T15:54:00.001-08:00

Oh, pardon me miss...

2012-02-01T15:46:00.000-08:00

I'ma give that bitch a Milk-Bone...

2012-02-01T11:08:00.000-08:00

Burn, baby burn...

2012-02-01T11:04:00.000-08:00

J-Wunder's Guide to "What Men Want" - Part 1

2012-02-01T10:52:00.000-08:00

Men and women are some interesting ass species, aren’t they? As much as we can possibly hate each other at times, we fucking need each other. I don't care if it's to make a beautiful family, fuck each others brains out 6 days a week, or to argue about who's making who a goddamn sammich...bottom line - men and women CANNOT live without one another. True story.

Back in April I wrote an Advice Column, What Women Want, and basically, it listed 5 Rules. 5 goddamn rules that every fucking man needs to follow to keep lady luck around. Were they true? Does shit smell like fucking shit? Of course they were true, damnit. C'mon folks, I know I'm a fucking jackass but I'm no idiot. Ladies loved it. Fellas embraced it. And I looked like I should host my own talk show. In any event, that column gave me motivation to flip the script and let these lovely, sexy ladies know, What Men Want. What to do to keep your McSteamy around...for a very fucking long time. Well, long enough to make you scream sexual things at the top of your lungs at 3am in a hotel room. Just sayin'...

I'm gonna be honest...men love to fuck broads. However, fuckin' a chick just to fuck her, is a lot different then dating a chick and trying to make it a long term thing. So ladies...let this be your guide to not be THAT gal who just gets fucked then becomes clueless as to why Benji Boy doesn't want to talk to your ass anymore, ya dig? Man, I'm so excited I'm about to cum in my pants. Lets do this shit, shall we?

6 Rules. 6 Rules you ladies need to follow to get that man you've been dying to fucking keep. I don't give a fuck if you have additional rules...these 6 are sacred.

So without further adieu, I present to you, What Men Want - Part 1.

1) It's all in the eyes.

FACT: One of the biggest turn-ons, for almost ANYONE, is eye contact.

Like I mentioned in my column, What Women Want, eye contact means absolutely fucking everything. It’s the Jedi-Mind shit of sealing the deal. Eye contact will let you know within minutes if the person you're with is 1) Digging you, 2) Engaged in what you're saying and 3) Actually fucking liking you. No joke. Eye contact is the sex without the fucking. The kissing with no tongue. It's that silent conversation letting a guy know, "Hey, what's happening right this fucking minute...I'm digging it and yeah, I'm feeling you too." Looking deep into someones eyes basically sets the tone of the evening. How do I know? Lets just say the last person I was able to meet, I knew she was all in...so was I. Not because there was a special way she looked at me, it was because she looked AT me. She didn't check her fucking phone, she wasn't scanning the crowd for other hot guys. All eyes were on me. Wherever my eyes went, hers did too. She was engaged. Interested. Told me without telling me, "You keep this up, we could end up breaking shit in the kitchen later." She enjoyed what was going on at that very fucking moment. The best part...she didn't have to say a goddamn thing to let me know that. Moral of the story: Keep your eyes on the prize and that'll be a tale-tale sign that the night is starting off on the right foot.

2) Confidence is key.

I'm not a picky guy when it comes to women. Don't get it twisted though...I like a woman who is good looking, has her shit together, talks in complete fucking sentences, but more importantly, exudes confidence. When I say confidence, I don't mean cockiness. Fuck all that shit. Cocky bitches belong with two types of people: 1) Douchebag fuckmouths and 2) Themselves. However, a confident woman...shit...I'm all yours.

Confident women don't need to let a guy know she's in the room. Guys will just fucking know. Trust me. A woman who has confidence is fucking sexy...so damn sexy! Everything about you doubles on the Richter scale. FACT: Put the hottest bitch on the planet who is a straight up egotistical cunt, against a woman with amazing confidence, and guess what? 15 out of 10 times, dudes are going with Miss Confidence. Why? Because it's women like this who have this attitude that "it's not all about them". Now, to some of you ladies, this may be a confusing fucking concept to grasp, but think about it. Men don't want a difficult fucking bitch. They don't want a gal that thinks her shit doesn't stink. They want a woman who is C-O-N-F-I-D-E-N-T. So confident that she doesn't mind giving out her phone number and a guy calling the next day (btw, that 3-7 days rule of calling a chick is a goddamn fucking joke and complete donkey shit). Confident enough that she can drink a beer with a guy and not a 25 dollar martini because Miranda from fucking Sex in the goddamn City drinks one. Confident enough that she can admit hockey is one of her favorite sports and plays it just because she wants to check a mother fucker...just to see how it feels. Confidence like that, can go a long mother fucking way. Real talk.

3) Good conversation can be a deal breaker.

With confidence comes good conversation. Sounds simple, right? WRONG. Truth be told, probably one of the biggest deal breakers (outside of kissing) between men and women is: CONVERSATION. FACT. Just because you talk on a regular basis doesn't mean a goddamn fucking thing. The fact of the matter is, you could be the best talker in the world, but when it comes time for you to have a one-on-one with someone you're meeting for the first time, let alone - LIKE, that talkative side of you...gets shot out of the fucking window at 1,000 mph. True story.

Conversation isn't thinking about what you're gonna say. It's just saying whatever the fuck comes to mind and seeing where it goes. Now, don't take what I said too loosely because if you start talking about playing "hide the dirty tampon" with your BFF's as your old favorite high school activity, I guarantee the dude might punch your ass in the fucking throat, steal your food and leave your ass with an expensive ass bill to pay. DON'T GO THERE. Be cool. Keep it simple, but random. Don't make it be all about you. If you like the dude, ask him some shit about him. Trust me, they'll fucking appreciate it. Like I mentioned in my last column, if you need booze to loosen up, go for it. Nerves fucking suck hairy nutsack, and the last thing you want to do is come off like someone who barely spoke English...and is the most American mother fucker on the goddamn planet. See where this is going?

You want the conversation to be so damn good that Romeo over here, feels like he knows who you are...and are worth the goddamn investment. Let them determine who you are without even telling them who you are. Get that Jedi-Mind shit working. You do that, it'll be smooth fucking sailing.

There you have it. The first three rules to What Men Want. It's not rocket science, it's pure fucking fact. Men may be hard to read, but in reality, we're not. We just want a woman who aren't so fucking needy and come with a baggage full of bullshit. How you interpret that is up to fucking you. I'm just here to say what's on a lot of guys minds that I thought might help some of my female readers out. Because lets be honest, some of you chicks have a hard fucking time keeping a dude around for date #2 let alone for 2 fucking hours.

After Part 2, you're gonna love my ass.

J-Wunder

Flute + Beatbox = Classical Hip Hop

2012-01-31T18:57:00.000-08:00

Singles Awareness

2012-01-31T12:29:00.000-08:00

WTF

2012-01-31T11:13:00.000-08:00

This time is actually means White Trash Fuckery. Or What The Fuck. Either way.

It's a status, not your diary

2012-01-31T08:45:00.000-08:00