Can someone tell me how Greenday got their own musical? They aren't talented and it's a bit of a bitchslap to the faces of the men and women who took time to compose music for Broadway.
At what point was a producer listening to "Dookie" and thought, "this'll make a magnificent show?"
I guess they figured they could sell out the show with horny, trend-eating high school and middle school girls.
By the way, if you write music for the same demographic as Taylor Swift, you deserve to choke on your own shit that's being shit out of the ass of your bandmate who ate your shit just a minute ago.
So Greenday is just in a perpetual shit-eating circle.
8/24/10
Laid Off / Tornado
I think people are getting too riled up about things now-a-days. I mean, it's cool to be passionate about stuff, but some people just get too angry.
Abortion.
I have no opinion whatsoever. First of all, I don't have a vagina. Secondly, I've never been in the situation (refer to the first point). But, I do think the word abortion makes abortions seem much worse. So, to settle people down, I suggest we switch the word with something else. I propose we call abortions "getting laid off." So, instead of getting "laid off" from your job you get "aborted." Now you can redirect all your abortion anger at your workplace.
It works out for the better, you lose your job, you're pissed, and the fact you've been aborted doesn't help. But your daughter, she just got laid off... You can be a bit more sympathetic towards her.
See? Little switches in our vocabulary can work wonders for the nation's mood. We're still all heated over gay marriage, another thing I have no opinion for. But, I understand both sides. Personally, I don't think Christians hate gay people, I just think Christians assume gays are too new in society to be doing an old thing like marriage (someone forgot to remind Christians the homos love retro things).
So, why don't we switch the phrase "gay marriage" with the word "tornado?" First, how cool of a word is "tornado?" That's a steal for the homos. Even I wanna get tornadoed and I don't even like cock. So instead of Christians getting angry at gays getting tornadoed, they get angry at all the gay marriages in Gay Marriage Valley out in the midwest.
Tornadoes will be similar to regular marriages, just one minor difference: No rings for your fingers. Cockrings and pussyrings.
Why cockrings and pussyrings? Simply because tornadoes mix things up. The genders at the ceremony, the sex on the honeymoon, where the rings go, etc. It'll all be mixed up. That's why tornado is such a fitting name.
Not to mention... Bill Paxton and Helen Hunt would probably attend huge tornadoes for big, gay Hollywood couples.
Abortion.
I have no opinion whatsoever. First of all, I don't have a vagina. Secondly, I've never been in the situation (refer to the first point). But, I do think the word abortion makes abortions seem much worse. So, to settle people down, I suggest we switch the word with something else. I propose we call abortions "getting laid off." So, instead of getting "laid off" from your job you get "aborted." Now you can redirect all your abortion anger at your workplace.
It works out for the better, you lose your job, you're pissed, and the fact you've been aborted doesn't help. But your daughter, she just got laid off... You can be a bit more sympathetic towards her.
See? Little switches in our vocabulary can work wonders for the nation's mood. We're still all heated over gay marriage, another thing I have no opinion for. But, I understand both sides. Personally, I don't think Christians hate gay people, I just think Christians assume gays are too new in society to be doing an old thing like marriage (someone forgot to remind Christians the homos love retro things).
So, why don't we switch the phrase "gay marriage" with the word "tornado?" First, how cool of a word is "tornado?" That's a steal for the homos. Even I wanna get tornadoed and I don't even like cock. So instead of Christians getting angry at gays getting tornadoed, they get angry at all the gay marriages in Gay Marriage Valley out in the midwest.
Tornadoes will be similar to regular marriages, just one minor difference: No rings for your fingers. Cockrings and pussyrings.
Why cockrings and pussyrings? Simply because tornadoes mix things up. The genders at the ceremony, the sex on the honeymoon, where the rings go, etc. It'll all be mixed up. That's why tornado is such a fitting name.
Not to mention... Bill Paxton and Helen Hunt would probably attend huge tornadoes for big, gay Hollywood couples.
Faking It
I don't understand how a guy can be tricked by a woman when it comes to the orgasm. Faking it is very easy to catch, at least it is in my experience. But, I have a certain procedure when it comes to faking it. It's a simple method:
Identify
Call Shit
Resume
The easiest way to identify whether or not a girl is faking it is by going to the source. At the base of your cock, you should have the white ring (or Pandora's Donut as I call it). It's a white ring of female ejaculate and a pat on the back for a job well done. If it ain't there, don't panic... It doesn't mean she's faking it because this ring isn't foolproof.
So if it's not there, look for other signs. If your girl can say a full sentence in the middle of being nailed, she's faking it.
"Oooh! I wanna cum at the same time, please!"
Nah.
If there's a definite moment where she screams out in euphoric pleasure that exceeds that of anything else she's moaned all night, she's faking it.
"Yeah...
Yeah...
Yeah...
Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh! YEAH!"
That brings me to my next sign, overuse of the word "yes" or the phrase "right there." First of all, guys don't know where "right there" is, we can't navigate our cocks around corners or up alleys. If there was a cock joint, we'd be able to get "right there." But in reality, "right there" is just your vagina. We don't suddenly hit the right spot while we were nailing you in the same way for the last five minutes.
So if she's faking it, you gotta go to the next step. Calling her out on her shit takes some balls. If she's faking it, tell her to cut the shit out unless she wants a very real pregnancy. Threatening girls with pregnancy is pretty badass.
After the threat, she'll get real and be ready for step three. Resume sex! Drive it home in the silence you rightfully deserve. Because for some reason we hate women preserving our egos and faking it for us.
Identify
Call Shit
Resume
The easiest way to identify whether or not a girl is faking it is by going to the source. At the base of your cock, you should have the white ring (or Pandora's Donut as I call it). It's a white ring of female ejaculate and a pat on the back for a job well done. If it ain't there, don't panic... It doesn't mean she's faking it because this ring isn't foolproof.
So if it's not there, look for other signs. If your girl can say a full sentence in the middle of being nailed, she's faking it.
"Oooh! I wanna cum at the same time, please!"
Nah.
If there's a definite moment where she screams out in euphoric pleasure that exceeds that of anything else she's moaned all night, she's faking it.
"Yeah...
Yeah...
Yeah...
Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh! YEAH!"
That brings me to my next sign, overuse of the word "yes" or the phrase "right there." First of all, guys don't know where "right there" is, we can't navigate our cocks around corners or up alleys. If there was a cock joint, we'd be able to get "right there." But in reality, "right there" is just your vagina. We don't suddenly hit the right spot while we were nailing you in the same way for the last five minutes.
So if she's faking it, you gotta go to the next step. Calling her out on her shit takes some balls. If she's faking it, tell her to cut the shit out unless she wants a very real pregnancy. Threatening girls with pregnancy is pretty badass.
After the threat, she'll get real and be ready for step three. Resume sex! Drive it home in the silence you rightfully deserve. Because for some reason we hate women preserving our egos and faking it for us.
Children.
I've realized that at this point in my life, I can die and it wouldn't matter. For me it's scary, no doubt, but for anyone else you shouldn't give a shit if I die.
The way I see it? When kids die, the tragedy is wasted. Timmy died today, his biggest accomplishment was spelling "tortoise" right in the 6th grade because he "couldn't read good."
Kids are so shitty and when they die people get so wrapped up in the "what if."
"If he lived, he could've been a doctor."
Does it really take your kid dying to actually have faith in him? When he was alive you were yelling at him for using his father's socks as cumrags, now he's gunna be a doctor?
Put it this way, when you're alive becoming a doctor is tough. When you're dead, it gets a little easier somehow. But again, it's all because of "what if." If "what ifs" were fishes, this place would smell like Lindsay Lohan.
Kids are so shitty. I feel like I'm part of a dying breed of decent human beings, and I'm the very worst of the breed too. I have absolutely no connection with people my age, mainly because so few of them find masturbation as funny as I do (it's hilarious).
Back to my original point, it doesn't matter when kids die because we're just here doing nothing. When we die, it just means we're out of the race, we have zero effect on anything at this age.
Kids aren't the future, we're going to be the future. Right now, we're smelly, self-indulgent pricks who honestly just want to stick our dicks in something or rub our pussies against something. That's all it boils down to. We suck. Don't cry when one of you drunk adults hit a boy or a girl with your car. What you should do is wonder why that adult was drinking in the first place, it's probably more tragic than the kid dying. Shitty marriages, murder, adultery... Something you can sink your teeth into.
For the record, I'd like to state that I am actually glad when kids my age die. It means more for me. My chances at doing anything ever go up a slight percentage.
The way I see it? When kids die, the tragedy is wasted. Timmy died today, his biggest accomplishment was spelling "tortoise" right in the 6th grade because he "couldn't read good."
Kids are so shitty and when they die people get so wrapped up in the "what if."
"If he lived, he could've been a doctor."
Does it really take your kid dying to actually have faith in him? When he was alive you were yelling at him for using his father's socks as cumrags, now he's gunna be a doctor?
Put it this way, when you're alive becoming a doctor is tough. When you're dead, it gets a little easier somehow. But again, it's all because of "what if." If "what ifs" were fishes, this place would smell like Lindsay Lohan.
Kids are so shitty. I feel like I'm part of a dying breed of decent human beings, and I'm the very worst of the breed too. I have absolutely no connection with people my age, mainly because so few of them find masturbation as funny as I do (it's hilarious).
Back to my original point, it doesn't matter when kids die because we're just here doing nothing. When we die, it just means we're out of the race, we have zero effect on anything at this age.
Kids aren't the future, we're going to be the future. Right now, we're smelly, self-indulgent pricks who honestly just want to stick our dicks in something or rub our pussies against something. That's all it boils down to. We suck. Don't cry when one of you drunk adults hit a boy or a girl with your car. What you should do is wonder why that adult was drinking in the first place, it's probably more tragic than the kid dying. Shitty marriages, murder, adultery... Something you can sink your teeth into.
For the record, I'd like to state that I am actually glad when kids my age die. It means more for me. My chances at doing anything ever go up a slight percentage.
8/23/10
My ass hurts :(
Recently, my uncle got a girlfriend. She's attractive, I guess, for a 40-year-old woman. But I do have my complaints... They aren't about her exactly, but she's a definite target of blame.
You see, my uncle has the desire to call me every time he takes a sexual step forward with this woman. I'll get calls in the middle of the night, dinner, breakfast, etc.
"Bro, I tore that ass up last night, rearranged her organs."
How do I reply to that? "Yeah? Did you make her cum? Where'd you nut?" There are no books for communicating with your uncle like this, because you shouldn't.
Here's another weird thing he's done: We were in the car together on our way to the city, prime time for my uncle to boast about his sexual endeavors with this woman. In this particular moment, he's telling me about how he gave it to this gal in the ass for the first time in her life. "Bro, I was like the Greek army."
All of a sudden he gets a text and being the responsible, law-abiding driver he is in the state of New York, he hands the phone to me. I casually take the phone and read it, thinking it'll be something unimportant.
"My ass hurts :("
It seems as though his girlfriend's ass hurt.
There was not an ounce of embarrassment in my uncle, he didn't even miss a beat. Instead, he started dictating and I started recording, uncomfortably may I add.
"It's supposed to, means I did it right."
"But I can't sit now... :("
"Get used to it, your ass is in trouble."
"Every time I see you, my ass and the back of my throat hurts."
"Good, now you remember me all day. I like packing it in tight."
So, here I am talking dirty to a 40-year-old woman for my uncle while he's driving... And when it's all done?
"Man, she's a good girl, don'tcha think?"
I just confirmed her assgaping later on that night, how can I possibly think she's a good girl? As far as I'm concerned, every time I look at her I'm just gunna think her gettin' Sasha Grey'd in the pooper.
You see, my uncle has the desire to call me every time he takes a sexual step forward with this woman. I'll get calls in the middle of the night, dinner, breakfast, etc.
"Bro, I tore that ass up last night, rearranged her organs."
How do I reply to that? "Yeah? Did you make her cum? Where'd you nut?" There are no books for communicating with your uncle like this, because you shouldn't.
Here's another weird thing he's done: We were in the car together on our way to the city, prime time for my uncle to boast about his sexual endeavors with this woman. In this particular moment, he's telling me about how he gave it to this gal in the ass for the first time in her life. "Bro, I was like the Greek army."
All of a sudden he gets a text and being the responsible, law-abiding driver he is in the state of New York, he hands the phone to me. I casually take the phone and read it, thinking it'll be something unimportant.
"My ass hurts :("
It seems as though his girlfriend's ass hurt.
There was not an ounce of embarrassment in my uncle, he didn't even miss a beat. Instead, he started dictating and I started recording, uncomfortably may I add.
"It's supposed to, means I did it right."
"But I can't sit now... :("
"Get used to it, your ass is in trouble."
"Every time I see you, my ass and the back of my throat hurts."
"Good, now you remember me all day. I like packing it in tight."
So, here I am talking dirty to a 40-year-old woman for my uncle while he's driving... And when it's all done?
"Man, she's a good girl, don'tcha think?"
I just confirmed her assgaping later on that night, how can I possibly think she's a good girl? As far as I'm concerned, every time I look at her I'm just gunna think her gettin' Sasha Grey'd in the pooper.
Swoo, damn!
As a pass-time, my uncle likes to take me cruisin' to look at women. Now, typically when I go out and do this I'll give the occasional catcall or stop to talk to a woman.
Not my uncle.
He just slows down and starts mumbling to himself sexually. And 99.9% of the time it's one of these three phrases:
"I hope she has health insurance." - This implies he'll fuck a girl so hard she'll be injured.
"Swoo, damn, I'd give her the ol' vertebreaker." - This implies he'll fuck a girl so hard she'll have spinal injuries, specifically.
Or, my personal favorite, "What's up sloppy?" - Which is saved especially for a girl attractive enough for my uncle to bang, but a little loose.
Not my uncle.
He just slows down and starts mumbling to himself sexually. And 99.9% of the time it's one of these three phrases:
"I hope she has health insurance." - This implies he'll fuck a girl so hard she'll be injured.
"Swoo, damn, I'd give her the ol' vertebreaker." - This implies he'll fuck a girl so hard she'll have spinal injuries, specifically.
Or, my personal favorite, "What's up sloppy?" - Which is saved especially for a girl attractive enough for my uncle to bang, but a little loose.
8/19/10
8/17/10
Quickie
Ever fantasize about a girl you know being nailed by a black guy?
I have.
It seems even in my own imagination black people make love better.
I have.
It seems even in my own imagination black people make love better.
8/8/10
Don't knock it 'til you try it.
For me, sex has only happened conditionally. There's something in this world that works against me that causes me to rely on some sort of x-factor for sex. I call it the sex factor. Whether it be I was the new guy in town, weed, alcohol, or some sort of arrangement was in play, this was the only way I could "get my D wet." This playa plays with handicap.
Even with handicap, conditions sometimes work against me.
I was friends with a gorgeous chick, one I'd see every day. I tried so hard to have sex with her but she was one of those fuckin' girls glued to her phone and used the word "ironic" when it wasn't applicable. Fact of the matter was she didn't "get me."
LOL ur so weird.
Regardless, one day she's goin' through her phone and says, "Ugh... My sister needs to get laid."
Playfully I comment, "I'll do it."
Now realize when a guy says that, there's a big part of him that prays for some inexplicable response.
"Really?" BAM. Yes. That's the one.
So now the playfulness fades and I take on dickmode. Dickmode is when your reasoning and thoughts become taken over by your cock.
"Yeah, really! She'll take anyone? When can I do it?"
She hits me back with, "What are you doing Friday?"
It doesn't fuckin' matter what I'm doin' Friday, because I'll be somewhere if there's guaranteed tang. So it was done; I got her sister's number and that was that. However, as I was walking away and regained normal composure I realized her sister was a fat girl I met at a party once.
I think.
I couldn't pass up the opportunity if I wasn't 100% sure she was fat. I couldn't just text her "u fat?" So I decided to take the high road and give myself an ultimatum:
Regardless of her size I would do this. So, if I didn't enjoy her tubby ass, I could then say, "I don't like fat chicks," with reason.
Note: I don't know if you've ever been engaged in a verbal contract of this sort, but when sex is guaranteed there are no filters on the conversations. You can't really "fuck it up." So, the days leading up to Friday she was very enticing.
Friday comes and I'm there at the specified time. I walk right in through the front door and look around at a grotesquely kept house. Already I wasn't thrilled... Please God, make her hot.
When she came into view it was a relief... My memory doesn't get impaired when I'm drunk; she would be the fattest girl I've ever touched. I weigh in around 190lbs. She was me, plus an infant... Who weighed 50lbs.
She wasn't even one of those chubby cute girls with a nice face and a good personality. She was fat everywhere and it was terrible. But I had to man up, this was the moment of truth for me. Could I truly have sex with the first and only fat girl in my life? Could I get it out of the way nice and early? I could. So I did.
Usually when I'm about to have sex with a girl, I try to keep as many articles of clothing on as possible. I'm pretty reluctant when it comes to undressing in front of women, mainly because they're usually more attractive than I am. But the fact of the matter here? I was the attractive one and it felt awesome. This was the kind of self-confidence I wish I always had. I literally jumped out of my clothes and flexed; I felt like a Roman God.
Mousouris, the God of Fatties.
So, it was time for oral sex. I had once heard that big girls gave good head, something to do with gravity or the fat in their face giving pressure around your rod.
It's a lie.
The fat in her face, neck and forehead made it impossible for her to open her mouth enough to keep her teeth off of my carrot. I don't even have a big penis, so the teeth were unnecessary. What was even worse was the noise. She sounded like someone fat giving head... The guttural grunts and slurping noises a fat person makes when eating a bucket of KFC resounded in the bedroom.
It was at this moment that I felt my shaft loosing firmness, I had to think quick because I didn't want to insult the girl. I figured it was time to do the do. I pulled down her spandex pants that are common for girls her size and drove it home.
Now, there's a common problem for meaty girls and guys with small penises. Sometimes your dick flops out, it's an easy fix too! You just stick it back in and continue without pause.
However.
She isn't a meaty girl. She's a fat girl. There's a big difference. When my dick flopped out, it did the usual upward thrust against her coochie instead of in her coochie (an event I call the safety slide when it happens normally). The deviation here was that I didn't know I flopped out, because where my penis usually safety slides, there was a hotdogbun-esque formation of moist fat that felt just like a coochie... When she corrected this I nearly died.
There was a brief minute where I was doing okay on her, but then she asked me to choke her. I have nothing against some sensual choking, but I couldn't get a firm grip around the lifesaver of a neck she had. It was like I was choking Chris Farley.
I couldn't take it anymore; I wound up laying back in the messy bed and masturbating next to her as she made some weird noises that ranged somewhere between delight and hunger.
Needless to say, I did it and I won't ever do it again.
Even with handicap, conditions sometimes work against me.
I was friends with a gorgeous chick, one I'd see every day. I tried so hard to have sex with her but she was one of those fuckin' girls glued to her phone and used the word "ironic" when it wasn't applicable. Fact of the matter was she didn't "get me."
LOL ur so weird.
Regardless, one day she's goin' through her phone and says, "Ugh... My sister needs to get laid."
Playfully I comment, "I'll do it."
Now realize when a guy says that, there's a big part of him that prays for some inexplicable response.
"Really?" BAM. Yes. That's the one.
So now the playfulness fades and I take on dickmode. Dickmode is when your reasoning and thoughts become taken over by your cock.
"Yeah, really! She'll take anyone? When can I do it?"
She hits me back with, "What are you doing Friday?"
It doesn't fuckin' matter what I'm doin' Friday, because I'll be somewhere if there's guaranteed tang. So it was done; I got her sister's number and that was that. However, as I was walking away and regained normal composure I realized her sister was a fat girl I met at a party once.
I think.
I couldn't pass up the opportunity if I wasn't 100% sure she was fat. I couldn't just text her "u fat?" So I decided to take the high road and give myself an ultimatum:
Regardless of her size I would do this. So, if I didn't enjoy her tubby ass, I could then say, "I don't like fat chicks," with reason.
Note: I don't know if you've ever been engaged in a verbal contract of this sort, but when sex is guaranteed there are no filters on the conversations. You can't really "fuck it up." So, the days leading up to Friday she was very enticing.
Friday comes and I'm there at the specified time. I walk right in through the front door and look around at a grotesquely kept house. Already I wasn't thrilled... Please God, make her hot.
When she came into view it was a relief... My memory doesn't get impaired when I'm drunk; she would be the fattest girl I've ever touched. I weigh in around 190lbs. She was me, plus an infant... Who weighed 50lbs.
She wasn't even one of those chubby cute girls with a nice face and a good personality. She was fat everywhere and it was terrible. But I had to man up, this was the moment of truth for me. Could I truly have sex with the first and only fat girl in my life? Could I get it out of the way nice and early? I could. So I did.
Usually when I'm about to have sex with a girl, I try to keep as many articles of clothing on as possible. I'm pretty reluctant when it comes to undressing in front of women, mainly because they're usually more attractive than I am. But the fact of the matter here? I was the attractive one and it felt awesome. This was the kind of self-confidence I wish I always had. I literally jumped out of my clothes and flexed; I felt like a Roman God.
Mousouris, the God of Fatties.
So, it was time for oral sex. I had once heard that big girls gave good head, something to do with gravity or the fat in their face giving pressure around your rod.
It's a lie.
The fat in her face, neck and forehead made it impossible for her to open her mouth enough to keep her teeth off of my carrot. I don't even have a big penis, so the teeth were unnecessary. What was even worse was the noise. She sounded like someone fat giving head... The guttural grunts and slurping noises a fat person makes when eating a bucket of KFC resounded in the bedroom.
It was at this moment that I felt my shaft loosing firmness, I had to think quick because I didn't want to insult the girl. I figured it was time to do the do. I pulled down her spandex pants that are common for girls her size and drove it home.
Now, there's a common problem for meaty girls and guys with small penises. Sometimes your dick flops out, it's an easy fix too! You just stick it back in and continue without pause.
However.
She isn't a meaty girl. She's a fat girl. There's a big difference. When my dick flopped out, it did the usual upward thrust against her coochie instead of in her coochie (an event I call the safety slide when it happens normally). The deviation here was that I didn't know I flopped out, because where my penis usually safety slides, there was a hotdogbun-esque formation of moist fat that felt just like a coochie... When she corrected this I nearly died.
There was a brief minute where I was doing okay on her, but then she asked me to choke her. I have nothing against some sensual choking, but I couldn't get a firm grip around the lifesaver of a neck she had. It was like I was choking Chris Farley.
I couldn't take it anymore; I wound up laying back in the messy bed and masturbating next to her as she made some weird noises that ranged somewhere between delight and hunger.
Needless to say, I did it and I won't ever do it again.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)