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One Letter Short of Grape

Some girls need to understand the difference between rape and consensual sex. As more criminal cases are reported, the defined lines become blurred. In many cases, the claims are falsified by the bimbos who report them. Reasons may include: the guy was not as desirable as she thought, the performance was bad, or the chick simply wants to ruin the life of an innocent man.

It’s sad to hear claims such as “He forced himself upon me,” or “He seemed like such a nice guy.” Well, it’s hard to force yourself on someone when they’ve already invited you into their abode with NO sign of forced entry. It’s as if to say, “I tried to scream rape, but I couldn’t pronounce the ‘r’ because of the dick that was in my mouth.” Do I think that there are real rape cases out there? Absolutely, but in several circumstances the claims provide no substantial evidence for support.

When I see these shows where the ‘victims’ describe the ‘incidence’ as one of the worst things that’s ever happened to him or quote, “Really frustrating,” I refuse to give those lying bitches my sympathy. If you think I’m being too harsh, then open your eyes. Here are some viable sources:

http://www.falserape.net/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rape_statistics

Read ’em and weep (for all the wasted sympathy).

But for now, enjoy this!

A Modest Proposal

This weekend was a bit of an annoying one for me though I completed the weekend achievement quite easily.  As you all know, another Mother’s day came and went, and in the midst of all the sudden feelings we remember we ever had for our moms emerged, a different feeling slowly crept its way into my thoughts.

What the fuck are today’s mothers doing to our youth?

I went into a McDonald’s and had to wait for my Big Mac meal while enduring the cries of a little boy who wanted a happy meal.  I chuckled to myself knowing that the mom would soon do her parenting job and beat him, but the beating never came!  Instead, the little shit got exactly what he wanted, immediately got bored of it, and repeated the process all over again with a new “want”.

As you can imagine, I did the responsible thing and told the kid Santa was in my trunk, dead, then left the place satisfied.  Unfortunately, it opened my eyes to a bigger, growing problem we are all facing.

Because women tend to raise the kids (use any argument you want, we’re still old-fashioned) they highly influence how the child will grow up.  Nowadays, children are turning into bratty, snobby, stupid little prima donna bitches who will more than likely accomplish nothing great in their lifetime.

So mothers, I ask you, what the fuck is going on?

My mother raised me as all children should be raised.  On weekends, we would practice holding my breath underwater with mum deciding when I came up for air.  Instead of going to summer camp, my mother would drop me off in the woods with a six-pack of Gatorade and a knife.  She would give me the time and coordinates where I would meet her and if I didn’t arrive on time, unharmed, I would be in serious trouble.  I’m not talking about “no Spongebob tonight” kind of trouble.  I’m talking about beatings with a medieval mace kind of trouble.

The result of my mother’s tough parenthood was a man who is ready and willing to take on the world.  A man who questions everything.  A man who sees both sides of the story and challenges you every weekend.  A man who has his words published and available for all to read.  A man who is not ashamed to say that when a girl asks him to cum anywhere he would like, he proudly aims for her face.

Mothers, your day yesterday was well deserved, but for the love of our children’s future, quit raising pussies.  We do not want a world ran by dudes like this one:

Letting Her Down Gently

So it’s Monday and I’m back from a long weekend. I’ve been nailing this chick in such a way that would make Jesus, a carpenter, proud. I made my intentions and the intentions of my dick, which has a mind of its own, very clear. We both just wanted to get wet, but this psycho wanted more. She wouldn’t stop with the relationship talk. Plus, she wasn’t into the whole threesome thing which meant there was no way I could accomplish the double BJ sandwich achievement with her. I had to let her down gently…in an e-mail because I’m too much of a pussy to do it face to face. To retain any sort of dignity I may have lost in doing so…ahh fuck it. Here’s the letter, I know you’re all anxious to read it:

“It’s not you, it’s me. I’m going to change, though. For the better. They say that if you truly love something you can let it go and if it comes back to you then it was meant to be. I don’t mean to insult you by insinuating that you’re a pronoun (it). I just think that our time is dwindling and that the hourglass is past half empty…for now. That may change in time or it may not. I guess what I’m trying to say can be best summed up by the great poet, Gwenivere. “If I could be sweet…I know I’ve been a real bad girl. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.” I’m sorry for making love…out of nothing at all. Goodbye, Mel”

“PS Please keep in touch so we can still fuck. K, bai.
Sent from my iPhone”

Have you ever had to break up with someone via e-mail? If so then let me know how it went. If not, then you have no business intruding in this conversation, fuckface.