If you see this virus, report immediately to the Center for Disease Confusion
Unless you’ve been living on another planet you’ve heard about the deadly Ebola virus. The media keeps showing us this same picture like it’s a Wanted poster. This is how we’re going to stop Ebola’s spread, by each of us being on constant look-out for the blue stained spaghetti. Whenever we’re perusing tiny stuff with our electron microscope and we stumble across it, we need to contact the CDC immediately.
We’re lucky Ebola isn’t like the Andromeda Strain or we would all be dead in America, thanks to our government.
Let’s review the buffoonery:
Thomas Duncan flies to Dallas infected with Ebola. He lies on his “honor system” airport screening paperwork about contact with an Ebola victim. He dies.
The CDC Director Head Buffoon claims “any” hospital can care for Ebola patients. “Ebola is hard to catch.”
Here the dudes are at Duncan’s apartment using a high pressure water sprayer to ensure the deadly virus is spread evenly throughout the complex (This is an actual photo of the workers at Duncan’s apartment)
The CDC sends a crack team of specialists in infection control a couple dudes to clean up the apartment complex where Duncan projectile vomited. In the first days of cleanup no one wears protective gear.
The CDC politely asks Duncan’s family to quarantine themselves for three weeks. The family roams around, and the kids go to school.
Two nurses get Ebola from Duncan.The CDC says it doesn’t know how or why they contracted Ebola, but don’t worry, “we’ve got this under control.”
The CDC gives one of the infected nurses the go ahead to fly to Ohio knowing she’s symptomatic because, hey, she probably doesn’t have it. Now the CDC has to track hundreds of people who’ve possibly been infected by her.
A lab worker who handled Duncan’s Ebola infected specimens is allowed to board a cruise ship. The ship gets stuck off the Coast of Mexico after Belize and Mexico won’t let it dock.
This is the Walter White Making Meth costume. It offers better protection than the “Ebola Kits” the CDC passed out
What’s required for a lab worker who deals with a Level 4 virus like Ebola is a full suit with respirator like what Walter White (Breaking Bad) wore when he was manufacturing meth…but “Ebola is hard to catch.”
Yesterday, the CDC passes out “Ebola Kits” to the nation’s nurses. It’s a sandwich baggie containing a basic mask, pair of latex gloves and a surgical bonnet.
Other countries, including Colombia ban travel from Africa. Apparently, Colombia’s corrupt and incompetent government is way smarter than our corrupt and incompetent government.
Then there’s the general garden variety buffoonery like shown below. While an Ebola patient is being transported, some dude interjects wearing no protective gear whatsoever. This is our CDC at work, everything is carefully planned out to ensure our safety we all get Ebola.
Which of these things isn’t like the others?
This is one Dallas hospital’s idea of “protective” gear for their nurses. A bubble head and whatever the nurse can jerry-rig to protect herself
Obama appoints an “Ebola Czar” to oversee this whole Ebola crisis. The Ebola Czar is a highly trained professional who specialized in infectious diseases and stopping their spread in a large populationlawyer. Ebola is quaking in its boots about how well this Czar is going to be able to argue with it.
Meanwhile, our government refuses to ban flights from Africa citing a twisted logic that stopping flights from Hot Zones would “increase the spread of Ebola.” But, wait, we have Ebola here, so other countries should ban flights from us.
Watch and see how many cases of Ebola North Korea gets.
Disclaimer: This is a professionally trained cat model
I got this amazing hand knit sweater for my cat (actual sweater seen on the left). My cat is really old, almost 20, and has lost a lot of meat on his bones. I acquired him after he started living in the bushes in my front yard. At this stage of his life, he’s all gristle and grease, with crinkled down ears. (He won’t self-groom.)
He gets cold in the winter especially with our cement floors. I would get sweaters and hoodies for the small dogs I rescued, but I never thought about it for my cats. These sweaters would be great for small dogs as well. (And by the way, Chihuahuas usually stop shaking when you put clothes on them.)
This 100% wool sweater was handmade in Latvia by TrendyKitty. It is extremely well made, the colors go together, it has a real turtleneck. and it looks classy. Plus, it makes my cat feel special knowing he’s wearing imported from Europe fashions.
Here’s another gorgeous TrendyKitty sweater
The bad news is that sometimes when you put sweaters on your cat, there will be a problem. He or she will simply fall over on his/her side and refuse to budge. If you prop him up, he will just fall over again. Sadly, there is nothing you can do. You can keep trying to force your cat to wear the sweater, but cats can be very stubborn.
Al Qaeda has published a new terrorist magazine in English. What’s its name? This Week inDeath to America?The Popular Jihadist? Kaboom?
No, it’s called Palestine, as if it’s the ultimate insiders’ guide to Palestinian culture, recipes, travel and events, like California Living.
Claiming it “focuses on the raw emotions of the victim hood in the Muslim world,” the new Islamic terrorist magazine urges lone wolf bombings of Las Vegas, Times Square, London shops and military targets. It features how-to articles on making car bombs and thoughtfully suggests terror targets. It calls upon Muslims around the world to follow Palestine’s bomb recipe to set off car bombs in crowded places.
One article is, “How to make a Bomb in the Kitchen of your Mom.” It details a DYI, illustrated guide on assembling a pressure-cooker bomb similar to the ones used in the Boston Marathon bombings. (Apparently, most Jihadists still live with mommy. Going around beheading people and blowing yourself up evidently doesn’t pay very well. )
“My Muslim brother, before you start reading the instructions, remember that this type of operation if prepared well and an appropriate target is chosen and Allah decrees success for you, history will never forget it. It will be recorded as a crushing defeat on the enemies of Islam.”
One article brags that the Palestine car bomb recipe is far superior to other car bomb recipes in that theirs gives one the ability to make a bomb even in countries with tight security and surveillance. (Well, I guess the Palestine car bomb recipe isn’t required for America.)
Palestine conveniently provides a list of supplies needed to make such a bomb, including cooking gas, oxygen gas, a barometer, decoration lamps, matches, and of course, mommy’s car.
[Note: the above is taken from the actual magazine. Now I’m going to make fun of it.]
Hunky Jihadi Bachelor of the Month
Palestine magazine features “Jihadist Bachelor of the Month” where the loyal Jihadistas can get to know a little bit more about the single, available mujahideens.
Bachelor Data Sheet
Name: Abu Mansoor Al-Amriki*
Birth place: United States
Ambition: Kill the infidels
Turn-ons: A girl who knows her way around a bomb-making kitchen and girls who wear matching explosives belts and panties under their burqas
Turn-offs: Women who still have their clitoris
Favorite Things to Do:Praising Allah, crazy ranting about America, reading goat porn and avoiding bathing
The Man I Most Look Up To: Mohammad, of course
My Dream First Date: Dinner for two consisting of goats head soup followed by us running from drone strikes in the moonlight
Babes in Burqas
Palestine has also their exciting annual “Babes in Burqas” issue where readers use their imaginations to visualize what the women look like underneath their tents. Readers get to vote on which woman looks hotter based on the folds and the way the fabric drapes over her. The winner is then featured on the cover of the Palestine B ‘n B issue wearing her choice of burqa in either black or blue.
An upcoming special new section in future Palestine issues will be for the lady Islamic terrorists. “For Jihadistas Only” will have articles that address feminine issues such as how a bulky belt of explosives can add twenty pounds and “What does an orgasm feel like?”
Let’s take a look at some letters to the Editor of Palestine magazine, shall we?
Dear Editor,
While following your recipe to make a car bomb to kill American infidels, my car accidentally blew up and took out the side of my garage. Will my home owner’s insurance cover this?
Praise be to Allah!
Dear Editor,
I find it so annoying when I’m fruitlessly sawing and sawing at the neck of a non-believer. It just takes forever to cut off their heads! Do you have any suggestions for the best infidel beheading knife?
Signed,
Loyal Jihadist
Dear Editor,
When I’m posing with my decapitated heads for Twitter and Instagram pics, the heads never look “real” in the photos. What can I do to convince my Muslim brothers that my infidel heads were not bought at the Halloween store?
Yours,
Islamic Terrorist
Dear Readers,
Please don’t bother to write and tell me how I shouldn’t make light of such serious things. That’s what these Islamics do, let’s just call it like it is. Their behavior is so egregious, so horrific, so absurdly beyond the pale that they should be mocked, and right after that, they should be nuked.
Also, don’t tell me that “not all Muslims are bad people.” That’s a given. Not all Nazis were bad, either.
Islam is the problem, not “radicals” not “extremists”.
Islam: the religion of pieces.
UPDATE 9/2/2014: After beheading American journalist, James Foley, ISIS threatened to behead the 2nd American journalist, Steven Sotloff. They did so today. RIP, Steven.
*Al-Amriki is dead and decomposing. Even worse for him, he’s finished deflowering his 72nd virgin. Now what? He’s stuck with a bunch of demanding, nagging non-virgins. For eternity. Doesn’t seem like Allah thought that one through.
Recently, some researchers stumbled across a panther kitten (cub?) laying unresponsive in the grass at the Florida Panther National Wildlife Refuge. Weighing only a pound, he was cold and near death. They rushed him to a vet and he’s now doing well. He’s sooo cute!!
When I see adorable babies like this, it’s hard to not want to hold him and cuddle him. It’s hard to resist the urge to have him in my home, shredding my furniture and marking the walls with intense male cat piss, the smell of which can drive one insane.
Remember “Mystery”, the pickup artist in the guy liner and swim goggles who had a TV show where he taught awkward dudes how to pick up women? He developed a system to pick up chicks called The Mystery Method. On the tv show he had his faithful wingman, “Matador” by his side to help out.
I have defended pickup artists because there’s nothing wrong with guys learning how to approach and talk to women. Guys who learn PUA techniques gain confidence, and learn how to relax and engage women in conversation. This can only be a positive thing. Think of all the missed opportunities because a guy didn’t have the nerve to approach a woman.
BUT…..A few months back, our man “Mystery” tried unsuccessfully to pick up a woman at a club. He crashed and burned so badly she posted his lame texts and the video he sent her on the Internet for all to laugh at. The video of him nodding to Nickleback singing about joining the Mile High Club while he waves around a badly rolled joint is a fine example of excellence in douchbaggery. It’s also an example of what not to do.
Here’s how she said the Mystery evening started:
Mystery and his wingman Matador both flanked me and threw a bunch of game. So I did all the PUA stuff like negging, being alternately interested and then completely ignoring or jumping up mid convo to cut them off and change the song, kiss a friend hello, etc. Mystery asked for my number, I gave him my card, and he texted like 30 times. I wrote back a short response or two, and then he sent this video. I can’t stop watching it. It’s like next level Starbucks Drake hands.
Matador in a horrid wig creepily emerges from the shadows
I was surprised to see Matador in the video whip around from the corner throwing devil horns and unsexily attempting to move his hips to the beat of the music. What was he doing back there? Jerking off? And why is he in Mystery’s dreary basement apartment this time of night? Why are they still hanging out together like that? They clearly haven’t got their own women. All that skill in picking up women and the bottom line is that they are ALONE,SINGLE and having to bromance each other.
And then there’s the truly embarrassing throw-anything-out-there-and-hope-something-sticks-and-you-get-laid texts Mystery sent her:
A smart pickup artist would use his skills to find himself the most beautiful, sweetest, smartest, kindest, funnest girl he can and land her permanently.
Those skills shouldn’t for used for jumping from vadge to vadge like a Pinball Cock. That is only going to get one loneliness, Hep C and liver cancer.
I think the clear message here is that being a pickup artist has an expiration date. There’s something pathetic about a middle-aged man nodding to a Nickleback song while waving a marijuana cigarette in the hopes of luring some young woman he met in a bar to his cheaply decorated, dungeon-like pad.
I keep getting absurd responses to my blog post where I point out women don’t do the deadly, dangerous, dirty jobs men do.
I get responses criticizing me for pointing out reality. I get comments like this:
“You need to get out and meet more people.”
Ah yes, if I only went out more I’d see all the women emptying heavy, stinking trash cans into the garbage truck. I’d see women laying down blistering hot asphalt under a roasting summer sun. I’d see women high in the air in cherry pickers working on live power lines. I’d see women dodging the vicious heavy chain that whips around an oil drill when it’s pumping oil. I’d see women out in the freezing cold jack-hammering out a car that crashed and got lodged in a concrete drainage ditch. Except, I wouldn’t see any of this. Those are fantasy scenarios.
Because women don’t do these types of nasty, unpleasant jobs.
I also get a lot of these responses:
“I have a friend of a friend who knows a woman who works in [fill in blank with a job that men do].”
I guess the women on this road crew are on their lunch break
They find The One Lone Woman—the Unicorn—who can change the oil or does her own plumbing. They think this means “women do work at the dirty jobs.”
Finding the one exceptional woman who works on a car doesn’t change the reality that most professional auto mechanics are men. Finding one woman who can fix a leaky faucet doesn’t change the reality that men clean and repair the cockroach infested, aging San Francisco sewers. Are you with me here, people?
Women make up less than 1% of the work force doing what are considered the most dangerous, dirty jobs.
One reader commented that women don’t work at these jobs because they “aspire to do more than men” with their lives. So, it’s apparently beneath women to work at shit jobs. Well, isn’t that special.
A woman can aspire to “do more” because a man somewhere is doing the grunge work for her.
Where are the five women who should be in this photo?
Women make up 51% of the U.S. population. If women were working at the jobs equally with men—as some of my readers claim they are—we would definitely see it. You don’t have to look at stats. Just open your eyes.
Not only do women not work at the dangerous, dirty, awful jobs, they have no clue what those kind of jobs are like. They can’t imagine working in sub-zero temperatures all day clearing snow from a train track in Alaska. They can’t fathom working in the roasting 110 degree heat on an oil drill in Texas for ten hours. That’s how far removed women are from what it takes to keep a modern civilization going.
Oh, yeah, these women can repair downed power lines, clean out septic tanks, fix broken water mains, build skyscrapers, weld train tracks…
It would be nice if instead of spouting, bullshit feminist crap about how “women can do anything men can,” we celebrate the differences between the sexes and acknowledge the back-breaking, dangerous, filthy work men do to keep our comfy way of life going.
Remember what I’ve said the next time you get a flat tire and expect some dude to change it for you.
This work site looks extremely hazardous and I don’t see any women…
A man named Romeo Rose, who calls himself a rock star/poet/artist/photographer/romantic, created a website where he posted his wish list for the perfect woman. He’s so serious about finding the future Mrs. Rose that he’s offering $1500 to whoever introduces them.
His list is as ludricrous as the perfect man wish lists of the Crazy Cat Ladies. Let’s take a look at what this amazing specimen of a man loser wants:
No sluts or fat asses need apply
“I will not date a overweight or fat girl. I like girls that are 130 pounds or less.
I will not date any girl that has ever had a threesome, or a large number of past sexual partners. I do not want a promiscuous slut,…
I will not date a Black girl. I don’t care if she looks like Halle Berry….And, I do not believe that Whites & Blacks should mix races sexually and have kids. I think it’s ok for Whites & Hispanics. But not Blacks. I would NEVER, EVER, EVER date a woman if I found out she had EVER been sexually active with a Black man.”
So he doesn’t want an overweight woman, someone who was promiscuous, or of a different race. Well, that’s okay. He can be a bigot if he wants to be.
“I prefer a woman that has never had children, because having kids does ruin a womans body. They end up with stretch marks. And also sometimes it makes their vagina looser, and I don’t care how many kegel exercises a woman does, after she has 2 or 3 eight to ten pound babies, you can’t tell me it’s going to be 100% as tight as it ever was! Plus, what’s even worse than all of that, is sometimes during childbirth the lips/vulva of a woman get torn and they never look the same as the did originally even after they heal, that’s why some women even get cosmetic reconstructive surgery to their vulvas after childbirth to try and regain their original appearance.
Wow. He expects flawless skin and a perfect vadge. Does he have a perfect penis? Not that I want to think about his. At. All. I just threw up a little in my mouth.
I also like girls with long hair. I like a girl to look like a girl, not a man, I like a feminine, pretty girl. I like hair down to the shoulders at least. Sometimes I can make exceptions if it is shorter depending on how it looks on the girl….
I do not like glasses on a girl. Although, it’s not a dealbreaker, as long as she can wear contacts at least most of the time.
If a girl is wanting to have babies, I am not her man.
I will not date a girl that does not have a job or career.
I am not looking for any type of woman that is materialistic or a gold digger or expects a man to pay for everything.
I do not like tattoos on a woman. To me, tattoos just represent white trash or somone that’s been in prison.
Redheads are my favorite, next is Brunettes, and next is Blondes, in that order. I like all 3, but I’m just saying if I had to choose, that’s my order of preference.
Women all over the world are rushing to change their hair color, and get Lasik eye surgery.
I also do not like piercings…I do not like a woman to have anything pireced other than her Ears….
I will not be in any relationship with a woman that gambles or wastes money on such things.
I do not like strippers! I believe that the only person that should ever see a womans naked body is only her boyfriend or husband.
Romeo doesn’t like female nudity, unless the woman is naked with him, of course
Oddly enough, Romeo has a photo of himself on the internet with a naked woman. I guess she isn’t ever going to be Mrs. Romeo Rose.
I will not date any girl that can not always be honest & faithful to me.
I prefer a girl that does not smoke.
I will not date any girl if she is still friends with any men that she has been intimate with in the past, I believe once a relationship with someone is over, it’s OVER.
I will not date a selfish woman. I do not like selfish women at all.
I do not like sarcastic or cynical people, I do not like people that always think negatively either, so that type of girl would also not be a good match for me.
I do not expect a girl to agree with all of my beliefs or opinions etc, but I do not like to argue.
Translation: the woman shouldn’t voice her opinions if they differ from his.
I like a girl that dresses on the conservative side. Not like a slut, and not anything weird. Just normal…T-Shirt & Jeans are OK. But a girl in a dress really gets my heart racing! I also love it when a girl wears a mini skirt with boots, not cowboy boots, but sexy boots. Or high heels, I love spiked high heels!
I like a girl that takes care of herself and keeps herself clean of course.
I love it when a girl wears sexy lingerie in the bedroom! Especially thigh highs!
I need a girl that can be very warm & affectionate and loving.
It’s also nice if the girl has a big heart and appreciates simples things, and understands the value of sentimental things etc.
I like a girl that appreciates romance and the art of courtship.
Kissing is one of my most favorite things to do with a girl, it’s very important.
It dosen’t matter at all to me how big or small a girls breasts are. I prefer them to be real & natural though. I am against breast implants, I see that as unnecessery self mutilation, and I would not want a girlfriend that has breast implants.
I like to get a lot of attention in a relationship, and I like to give it as well.
I also have a very high sex drive.
I know sometimes on my website here, I may seem like a negative person because I point out sooooo many things that I dislike, but I assure you I am a very positive person, I am just tring to put out here my likes/dislikes so you can know more about me and what type of girl may get along with me.
Thanks so much for creating this great list, Romeo! Because we women really care about what type of girl you want.
In closing he gives us this:
I never said I was a Don Juan with women, although “Romeo Rose does Pimp them Ho’s… From the Ghettos to da Limo’s.”
You could be this clown’s girlfriend, if only you hadn’t gotten that butterfly tat during spring break!
It’s like he’s ordering up a woman from a menu.
His perfect woman is a long haired, redheaded, white, thin, warm, affectionate, sentimental, giving, romantic, loving, honest, faithful, sexually inexperienced, career minded, non-sarcastic “girl” with 20/20 vision, a tight pretty vagina, no piercings, no tats, flawless skin, natural breasts, hasn’t had children and doesn’t want them. She doesn’t smoke, doesn’t gamble, isn’t materialistic, doesn’t speak to exes, doesn’t argue, gives him constant attention, and she will wear whatever he wants because it turns him on—while she agrees to have sex whenever he wants it—which will be all the time.
What are the odds that this combination of woman exists? In order for them to be a match, she would need all of those things listed above in addition to having poor judgment and very low standards for her men.
‘Cause Romeo (aka Larry Busby) has a restraining order out on him from a previous ex-girlfriend for harassing and stalking her. Oh, yeah. He’s that kind of guy.
Here’s what the future Mrs. Romeo Rose’s Wish List would have to include in order for them to be a good match. He would have to:
Have brown, unwashed hair
Have scary Morton Downy chompers
Look like Dave Grohl gone terribly wrong
Be Delusional
Be Narcissistic
Be a Bad guitar player
Be Jealous
Be Controlling
Be Sexist
Be Racist
Be Horny
Be Under-deodorized
Be Abusive to women
Be a Poor dresser
Be an Egomaniac
This is a Real Doll. She costs about $5K
What we have here is a Real Doll Winner. Like the Crazy Cat Ladies who will end up with a collection litter boxes, Romeo is going to end up with a collection of faux women and their various accoutrements, like removable vadges and wigs.
A Real Doll meets all his requirements, except for the career, but hey, he can always rent her out.
This is the same old problem of a person putting a list out there in the hopes the universe will spit back out a fantasy mate.
If you want to attract someone, you need to have something to offer them.
World War Z is a predictable, clichéd film that—with the exception of piles of cheesy CGI zombies—we’ve seen before. Stars Brad Pitt as a retired UN Inspector charged with saving the world after almost everyone turns into a zombie because UN inspectors do more than check for chemical weapons. Brad has to be forced out of retirement on threat of having his family evicted from a safe zone because he’s the best—and damn it—the only one who can get the job done. He is the world’s only hope because apparently, Bruce Willis, Robert Redford, Sly Stallone, Tom Cruise, Will Smith, Arnold, Denzel Washington and Clint Eastwood have all been eaten by zombies.
Also stars Mirielle Enos as his “One Each Caucasian Wife”. Her character is so undeveloped she doesn’t do anything but shriek and cuddle The Kids. Anyone off the street could have played her role. Pitt’s UN boss is played by Fana Mokeona because Hollywood always puts a serious black man in charge of whitey as a way to somehow rectify slavery.
Brad is the standard noble, altruistic, resourceful, tough under pressure, independent, hero who loves his family…..zzzz… ZZZZZ…..Oh, sorry, I dozed off from boredom writing about Brad’s character. Brad jet sets around the world searching for the elusive origin of the infection. He ends up at the World Health Organization in England.
Brad, his One Each Spousal Unit and The Kids loot a store
Brad, not the trained WHO scientists with PhDs who have been studying the zombies 24 hours a day, notices that zombies don’t eat people suffering from fatal diseases. World Health Inspector Brad injects himself with an unidentified microbe and walks unharmed right through a crowd of biters to prove his theory. This means that people can camouflage themselves from the zombies.
Brad is miraculously cured of the “fatal” disease by the same incompetent, unobservant WHO scientists. This cure happens without Brad having to spend a moment looking sick or less than hunky. Brad is then reunited with One Each Spousal Unit Submissive Level 2 and The Kids. Movie over.
There are plenty of absurd moments. At one point when Brad and his team are trying to sneak past a mass of walkers, his clingy One Each Wife calls to see if he’s okay. Here he is on this dangerous mission, surrounded by the undead, trying to go unnoticed as a survival tactic and who is calling? The wife. The phone ringing alerts the zombies who then slaughter everyone but Brad and the pilot. Brad not only doesn’t say, “What the fuck you doing calling me now? Jesus, you’re going to get us all killed!” He doesn’t even mention the incident to her. A normal husband would have screamed at her afterwards, “How many times have I’ve told you to not call me at work, you stupid bitch! You got my entire team massacred!”
Yeah, this cost $200 million
Most of the characters in this film are so two-dimensional that cardboard cutouts could have been moved around the set in place of actors. That would have saved the producers on salaries and Kraft services, and they needed to save money. This film cost a whopping $200 million. I gotta wonder where the money went. Do CGI zombies cost a $1,000,000 apiece to create?
My conclusion: World War Z is a steaming pile of “S”.
Every woman gets them, the bad opening lines from total strangers, the ridiculous come-ons. Some of them are laughable, others are just plain out there. These are my most memorable: the weirdest of the weird.
We definitely don’t need to see more of this.
“Can I mate my dog to yours?”
A man I had never seen before knocked on my door. He didn’t even say “hello” before he asked if he could mate his dog to mine.
I told him I don’t breed dogs.
My lack of interest wasn’t enough. He tried to convince me by explaining how our two dogs would “look good together.” Except that dogs engaged in copulation isn’t one of those things on earth that are enjoyable to look at. There’s a reason a coffee table book entitled The Wonderful World of Mating Dogs hasn’t been published.
I told him there wasn’t going to be mating of any species taking place. Then I went all Bob Barker on his ass and lectured him on the importance of spaying and neutering. After that, I slammed the door.
“Would you like to go to dinner with me — to a Furr’s Cafeteria?”
Nothing like yummy ground up cattle hooves and artificial lime flavoring to invigorate the senses
I was in the parking lot of my gym when an elderly gentlemen I had never seen before—hadn’t even made eye contact with— asked me out to Furr’s.
I politely declined. He proceeded to argue with me, as if he couldn’t fathom anyone turning down a chance to eat at a Furr’s Cafeteria. For those of you who don’t know what Furr’s is, it’s a school-cafeteria quality food served on those ubiquitous plastic trays. Think overcooked lasagna with mystery meat and weeping lime jello topped with generic cool whip. Furr’s is a favorite hang-out of the geriatric crowd.
I told him, “Call me in about 60 years. At that age, I’ll be thrilled to go.”
“Hey there, fellow shopper, wanna get some shots?”
I’m in a parking lot putting groceries in the trunk, when some stranger asks if I want to go for drinks. It’s morning. A little early to slam down shots of tequila.
I notice his car has an upside down vanity license plate that reads “HUNGOVR.”
Gee, the last thing I want is to go out with a guy who has such a drinking problem he feels the need to announce it on his car. He’s such a booze hound that of all the things he could have thought of to put on his plate, he chose something alcohol related. Then he deliberately mounted the plate upside down to really drive home the point he is always blitzed out of his mind.
The irony is that there will be some woman who hooks up with him—then later complains he was a raging alcoholic—but she never saw any red flags.
“I’ve got your package right here.”
I placed a package on the counter of a pack ‘n ship place and told the male cashier, “I have to get my other package in the car.”
Without missing a beat he says, “I’ve got your package right here.”
He smirks and glances slyly down at his crotch.
I couldn’t believe he said that to a customer. Women don’t want to picture in our minds some strange guy’s man junk when we’re running errands. Scratch that. Women don’t want to picture a guy’s man junk.
Me and my girlfriends at the trough
“Hi, little heifer!”
I was eating at restaurant with a friend when a dude approaches and says to me, “Hey there, little heifer!”
Now I work hard to be slim and in shape. I sacrifice. I don’t eat dough-nuts, drink sodas, or eat chocolate. I often skip dinner. It isn’t flattering to be likened to a creature with a weight that can reach upwards of 1200 lbs and who farts so much it’s changing the climate of a entire planet. Although to be fair, he did quantify it by saying “little”.
“Wanna party?”
I had walked to a 7-11 to get a Slurpee and was standing outside waiting for a friend. As I stood there sucking on my drink in my jeans, t-shirt and tennis shoes, a guy pulls up in a pickup truck.
He leans out the window and says to me, “Wanna party?” like I’m a working girl.
He realizes his huge mistake when he sees the horrified look on my face. He kicks up gravel getting the hell out of there.
I should have messed with him. I should have shouted,
‘VICE!! OUT OF THE TRUCK NOW! GET DOWN ON THE GROUND!
YOU’RE UNDER ARREST FOR SOLICITATION OF PROSTITUTION!!”
A good ass is the best accessory a woman can have. (Now get back to reading the text)
“Nice poopshoot!”
Some gangsta wannabe exclaimed, “Nice poopshoot!” as he cruised past me while I was strolling in the mall with my grandmother. Sometimes it’s all in the wording. It’s one thing to comment “nice ass” to a woman you don’t know, but “poopshoot” is just downright nasty.
My grandmother asked in her loud quavery old lady voice, “Dearie, what’s a poop…shoot?! Is that like a turkey shoot?”
“I’ve got something for you…”
I was sitting on a bench in a casino minding my own business. This strange guy walks up, gets too far into in my personal space, and says in a conspiratorial whisper, “I’ve got something for you.”
I’ve heard this line before so I’m thinking, “Ugh. Now I’m going to have to hear all about his cock.”
Instead, he says,”I’ve got cocaine.”
He steps back grinning in anticipation of my thrilled reaction.
God, we’re not back in the days of Studio 54 with Andy Warhol and that decrepit crowd. The 80s called and wants their drug back.
What was he thinking??
He should have offered crystal meth.
“Hello! I’m sitting outside in the parking lot.”
I was alone in a restaurant enjoying a nice pasta dish when the waitress interrupts to bring a phone to my table. There’s a call for me. Who knows I’m here? And who would be calling me using the restaurant’s phone?? Usually a call like that is super urgent. It’s the President calling with a matter of national security.
Totally creeped out, I answer hesitantly.
A guy I don’t know on the other end of the line says, “Hello, I’m sitting outside in the parking lot.” He directs me to look out into the parking lot for him in his white Corvette.
I squint as I look outside into the bright sun. I scan the parking lot, and can barely make out this guy waving from a hard top white Corvette. I ask, “What are you doing?”
Him: “I saw you sitting in the window and I wanted to meet you.”
Me: “Why didn’t you just walk in here like a normal person?”
Him: “I want you to come out here.”
Me: “Well, I’m not going to go out there!”
I slam the phone down.
This guy uses his car to meet chicks. He does whatever it takes so that women see him in his car. This, of course, presents a wee bit of a problem since he can’t get out of his car in order to meet women. He’s strictly limited to locations where he can drive, like parking lots, drive-thrus, gas stations. The women also have to be in locations with windows because he has to have an unobstructed line of sight in order to position himself in the Corvette. And the lighting has to be good. He has to make sure he’s well-lit so his targets can see him.
Adding to the continuation of his dorkiness is that he isn’t gaining any experience with women because his only interaction with them is through a windshield.
Now we come to the the #1 worst line I’ve ever heard. A line that rises above all the others. A line so bad, it reaches new heights of absurdity heretofore not seen.
“Is that a bomb in your hand?”
Lego Walk-Talkies, the choice of Al Queda
Sometimes the neighborhood kids played in my yard because it was the only patch of grass for blocks. I was in my front yard and picked up a plastic child’s walk-talkie that appeared to be broken. As I examined it, a guy I’d never seen before walks up, looks at what’s in my hand and asks,
“Is that a bomb in your hand?”
WHAT?!!A BOMB??!! OH MY GOD!!! THERE’S A BOMB??! WHERE’S A BOMB??! CALL THE BOMB SQUAD!!
After I got over the initial shock of hearing the word BOMB, I just looked at him. This was his opening line-—to tell a woman he thinks she’s holding ABOMB in her hand?
He then continued, “Well, why on earth would anyone put that there?” as if finding a child’s discarded toy on the lawn is so unusual and thought provoking it requires lengthy analysis.
I didn’t respond. I walked into my house and shut the door.
****************************************
The bottom line here is that you don’t need to say something bizarre or wildly inappropriate to a strange woman or man you hope to eventually bang. Just say, “Hi, my name is ________”
Twenty-one year old Farrah Abraham was a pregnant teen who starred in Pregnant and 16. She was also featured in the follow-up series Teen Mom, and seemed to hate her parents the most. She always curiously calls her bio dad by his first name, as if he’s some maintenance guy hanging around their house.
Farrah’s sex tape just got released and people are wondering why she did it. She explained:
“I’m celebrating my body and I’m celebrating my feminine side.”
I’m sure all dudes would love it if we celebrated our femininity by giving out BJs and doing anal.
Farrah claimed the tape was for “personal use” so she could look back fondly on her hot body when she was decrepit, wrinkly 91 yr old, so she put it in a special place for safe keeping she quickly sold it to the highest bidder, Vivid.
Her sex partner was professional porn star James Deen. This is what he had to say:
“Last night I banged a lady [Farrah] in her vag while simultaneously licking her butthole. I AM going to be arrogant about this one… I’M AWESOME!!!”
Not sure how James performed this amazing feat. Maybe it’s a new Yoga position? Or he’s some kind of invertebrate.
The tape has plenty of XXX action with Farrah using a glass dildo on herself in a limo, her getting it anal, her fingering herself, her in the shower, and for all you squirting enthusiasts, she squirts.
Our action begins with Farrah trying to entice James by flashing a matchy-matchy bra and panty set. She has a smokin’ bod and beautiful tan skin. She acts demure when James tries to film her with no panties and she closes her legs telling him, “Legs are closed right now.” (She should have said that five years prior and could have avoided the whole teen mom thing altogether.)
James ridicules her calling her a “retard.” She calls him a “butthead”. Reminds you of childhood with your brothers and sisters. Not exactly a turn-on.
Apparently, rolling around on a bed in sexy lingerie isn’t enough to give a guy a hard-on
Farrah prances around in her pretty lingerie, rolls on the bed and acts flirty with him. Then she coyly unzips his pants and pulls out his enormously…..limp cock. She starts to suck on it entreating him, “Tell me how you like it.” Yet it still stubbornly remains flaccid. What is wrong? This is a highly trained professional. Why do we need Viagra here?
Somehow James manages an erection which triggers Farrah to be ready to do anal. Might as well get the dirty work over with as quickly as possible. She takes it like a champ with the help of some really good lube.
James bangs her against the wall, bangs her hard on the bed. She doesn’t just lay there, unlike the other celebutards, Farrah appears to respond to a man banging her with enthusiasm. But there is an odd distraction of a weird digital clock screen saver on the TV in the background.
And now a first here at Staked:
RATING: Four out of Five Full Erect Penises.
Why such a shockingly good rating you ask? For a celeb sex tape it’s not bad. Farrah is nasty; she’s getting into it. She has a hot body, she doesn’t seem inhibited, and this is her first (leaked) porn tape. I see a porn career in her future, that or the pole.
Downgrades for her talking too much with her grating voice, and her Frankentits.
UPDATE: Her sex tape is so popular that demand for it overwhelmed the Vivid website. So far, the Farrah sex tape is outselling the Kim Kardashian sex tape. Kim must be devastated.
Click here to read my review of Kim Kardashian’s sex tape.
Click here to read the 1 Night in Paris sex tape review.
Click here to read the review of the infamous “Dirty Sanchez” celeb sex tape
Click here to read the review of Colin Farrell’s sex tape.
Click here to read The Three Hot Chicks on Porn’s hilarious review of “Another Night in Chyna”
I was recently reading the Ask Men love advice column. A male reader had written in asking about his relationship with a female friend. He had expressed his romantic feelings to her and she had put him off by claiming she wasn’t “ready” for a long term commitment.
Then he found out she was dating some other dude.
He was understandably hurt, and confronted her about it. She had this to say:
“She said she knew it wouldn’t last long with this other guy and that she was willing to hurt him but not me, because she cared about me more. She said she didn’t want to hurt me by continuing something that she wasn’t ready for and that she didn’t want to ruin something special that we could have in the future.”
What complete B.S. She’s just stringing along her guy friend to keep as a girlfriend. The guy friend gets the privilege of being a shoulder to cry on, someone to pass time with when she can’t be with her boyfriend because he doesn’t want to be around her all the time, and he can change a flat tire.
Doc Lov, the advice columnist, gave a good answer, but he didn’t explain how to get out of The Friend Zone. You can read the original article here.
While my advice on how to get out of The Friend Zone is written for men, it could be applied to either gender.
How to Get out of The Friend Zone and be seen as having sex partner potential:
1) End the friendship. If you don’t want to be thought of as a friend, then stop being one.
2) Cut her off abruptly with no explanation. Tell her you are busy and stop returning her texts and calls. Don’t explain yourself. Women hate it when they can’t have “closure.” It will drive her nuts and she will want to talk about what’s going on. Don’t.
3) Start dating any woman you are mildly interested in.
4) Let your Former Female Friend (FFF) know you are dating. If you aren’t dating, make up a fake woman. Tell your FFF, “I’ve met someone,” or “I don’t have time now that I’m seeing Tiffany,” or “I don’t think Ash would be too happy if she knew I was talking to you. Gotta go, bye.”
Your FFF will probably squeal something encouraging like, “Oh, I’m so happy you found someone!” but down inside she’ll feel a stab of jealousy.
5) This real or fake dating you are doing will have to go on for awhile, like 3-6 months, but it will reset the relationship with your FFF.
6) Being seen as a desirable male who is actively dating changes the dynamics of your relationship with your FFF. You will no longer be viewed as the lower value male who is devotedly waiting on the sideline.
Human beings are into competition. This is why a lot of married men find that women express more interest in them when they are with their wives. A woman figures that if another woman finds a man desirable, he must have something, and that peeks her interest.
7) In the interim, read The Game by Neil Strauss. Learn from Pick Up Artists, like Social Kenny, on how to properly interact with women to make them desire you. There are plenty of PUAs on the Internet who freely share their techniques. Trust me, these techniques work. Study the art of approaching and interacting with women like you would any subject. Gain confidence with women as you practice, practice, practice.
Confidence is key. Women are attracted to confident men.
8) Change something major about your appearance. Get a mohawk, earrings, lose weight, work out, dress differently.
9) After a few months of separation, when you interact with your FFF again, you will no longer be in a Friend Zone. It will be like you’re a new guy. This is because your old behavior patterns will have been disrupted.
The PUA techniques will give you a new way of interacting with her and help you know the difference between acting like “a friend” and acting like someone she’s going to want to bang. (Because that’s what it boils down to. A guy friend is simply a man a woman doesn’t want to have sex with.)
Warning: if you go back to behaving the same old way with your FFF as you did in the past you will be re-Friend Zoned promptly.
10) The beauty of this method is that maybe you’ll hook up with another woman and forget all about your unappreciative former female friend. You might even wonder what you saw in her. Meanwhile, she’ll be all hot for you.
“I am who I am. I can’t pretend to be somebody who makes $25,000 a year.” (She’s an Oscar winning actress, but it’s too much for her to not act like a pretentious, completely oblivious idiot.)
Actress Gwyneth Paltrow has her own website called “Goop”. She refers to it as “an eminent lifestyle publication, dedicated to informing and positively inspiring its audience.” Its purpose is to help you “save time, simplify and feel inspired” through her ridiculous suggestions about stuff you can’t possibly afford.
Here are Goop’s Categories of Interest:
Be, Do, Make, Shit.
Gwen likes to start the new year shitting out her guts with a detox program called “The Goop Cleanse.” She personally developed this using her extensive knowledge of all things goop poop. For $425 you can blow your colon out along with her. Or you can do it for FREE by eating at any Furr’s Cafeteria.
She admits “an obsession” for $250 Turkish towels, which she suggests we buy as gifts for our hostesses when we swing by The Hamptons. Newsflash Gwen: Most people don’t know what “The Hamptons” is, let alone know a single person who lives there. And most of us—when we go over to someone’s house—we bring a six-pack.
Chia Pudding
Gwen’s latest breakfast fad is a chia seed pudding. This is what Gwen recommends as a healthy meal: a bowl of the gelatinous muck with half a cup of algae water heated to precisely 98.6F. Starving people in the Sudan would refuse to eat this crap.
Below are recent pics of Gwen when she was in Dubai pushing perfume at a store in a mall. (She doesn’t mention that sordid detail on Goop because money is so icky to her.) She vaguely claimed to be there “working.”
But here’s what Gwen had to say about Reese Witherspoon earning money.
“Even actresses that you really admire, like Reese, you think, ‘Another romantic comedy?’ You see her in something like ‘Walk the Line’ and think, ‘God, you’re so great!’ And then you think, ‘Why is she doing these stupid romantic comedies?’ But of course, it’s for money….”
What Gwen does share about her Dubai trip is how she stayed in some penthouse suite that’s so expensive and luxurious, only Tom Cruise has “showered in it” before her. Imagine, their mutually exclusive pubs clogging the drain together forever.
“I love being. There’s so much wisdom in it. You wake up in the morning and you think, Hey, isn’t it great just being?” (Yeah, it’s great just being rich and famous and clueless.)This is the result of cupping. It’s supposed to draw out toxins. It doesn’t.
Gwen even has Goop Apps that will guide you to her fav places in cities like London. After your hot yoga class, you can check the Goop app for the nearest smoothie shop. As soon as you’re done leisurely sipping a seaweed smoothie, you can find an upscale spa to get your cupping therapy session. No need to miss out on your important activities just because you’re away from your, you know, main main home.
It’s pretty clear that Gwen has “detoxed” her effing brains out.
“When I pass a flowering zucchini plant in a garden, my heart skips a beat.” What Gwen meant to say: “When I pass gas in a garden, my heart skips a beat.”
Staked in the Heart 