All the things that Tiger did wrong: A guide to pimping hoes and being a billionaire without getting caught up...

...And not ending up killed by a crazy bitch you gave the A++ Dick game too. Which is a no no. Why you giving A++ Dick away all willy nilly? That shit is reserved for Christmas, Anniversary, and Festivus boo boo.

We all know everyone has a freaky side. Of course it's usually the ones we least expect it from who have a whole closet full of freak ass freak in them. Although it’s still hard to imagine Tiger Woods (of all people) saying, "I want to f*ck the shyt out of you, you dirty whore nigga lovin bitch. You want this Tiger dack down your throat? A healthy dosage of Tiger uppercut?", he sort of did. Kinky.

All professional athletes have hoes. Even Kobe has bitches. He just has smarter ones (with ID) under contract to shut them the f*ck up. Marrying a million dollar man, extra pussy is definitely and more than likely included. Does Kool-Aid need sugar? Thought so.

A bitch on the side will get everything her heart desires. She just has to work on two things: A quick kneel and silence. It's all about balancing and stabilizing the pussy on the side so there isn't any confusion or swinging gold clubs.

First of all, call your hoes through a burner (temporary, pre-paid cell phone for the urban illiterate) and never leave voicemails. The whole voicemail situation is baffling anyway. Where in the game do you wait for your hoes to call back? Exactly.

Messing with white crazy women will always get you in trouble. Invariably use black or minoritybroke or bougie women and keep them on payroll in order to keep the peace. Don't forget to change your number every couple months and have a rotation of five hoes every two months, only keeping one as your bottom bitch. Never, ever say, "I love you." Bottom line, don't get attached or catch feelings playa.

Throw lavish parties and invite your hoes. This ensures they sleep with other men you know and takes the heat off of you. Know when to cut contact for a few months ignoring hoes and keep the wife satisfied. One major thing Tiger made the mistake of was lying. You can't lie to women. If Elin is that naive of a woman he should have told her from the jump.

And last but not least do not get killed by your side piece or main lady!!!! NO! DO NOT DO IT! IT MAKES NO SENSE FOR THESE WOMEN TO LEAVE YOU SLUMPED AND LUMPED IN A CORNER!!!

Chris Henry

“Fell” from the back of a pickup truck, killed by fiancé. Why did you jump in the Truck Chris? We know you got ups, but you argued with the WRONG one. Let her drive off, she’ll come back…you got money.

Steve McNair

Shot in the face by side piece. Why did you have a piece around your side piece Steve? Always strapped is a song, not a real lifestyle Steve. Plaxico went to jail. You got shot in the face. They getting rid of you nigras one by one in the NFL.

Arturo “Thunder” Gatti

“Hung himself” after an “altercation” with his wife. Police let her go. Why? Cause she was smarter than you Thunder. Shoulda used that thunder down under to subdue a bitch but noooooooooooooooooooo you snapped your own damn neck...

Playas, please have an entourage. I know pro ballers are dumb, but where are the nigra posses? Where is that illicit friend known for getting hoes in and out? See above all the advice given, get you some hanger-on’s that know how and when to do the things you should but can’t do because of endorsements and your squeaky clean image. Every good girl has a whore friend. Every nerd has a bad ass gangstalicious cousin. What happened to Tiger’s? Kobe’s? Shaq’s?

This is in no way advocating that people cheat or have extramarital affairs. Nope, not going down that road. You signed that dotted line, gave away your right to fuck random broads (except for Will and Jada. Weirdos, but smart.), tough it out anti-playa. But please be smart Mr. or Ms. pro athlete/rapper/local celebrity/lime-light. Because we will laugh at you. We’ll mourn you, but we’ll laugh. Trust.

In conclusion, there isn’t any true way to handle side pieces/jump offs/hoes/bitches/i.e. f*ck buddy. You can have an extra bff, string along Stedman, and let everyone believe that you’re bi. Or maybe, just maybe, be faithful to your wife/husband. Cuz Lord knows we need more of Ozzie Davis and Ruby Dee and less of Pamela Anderson and Tommy Lee.

This post was written by MsPuddin, inspired by the thoughts of Rob Holliday (B.K.A rmhoffa, but uses his legal name since he’s on a radio show and HAD to put his freakin link right here.) You can also find it here, along with some more ignant shyt.

Big Black Taco

I was driving to work this morning when my thoughts were interrupted by a Taco Bell commercial. Taco Bell’s new ‘Black Jack Taco’ commercial to be exact. The words, “Black eye, black sheep, black jack, black taco,” were cooed into my ear over some dance music.

I don’t have cable so it was up to my imagination to decipher what they meant exactly. However, when ‘black taco’ is whispered into my ear like that, there are only a few places my mind will take me. So yes, for a brief moment my mind went there. And all I could do was hope the ‘black taco’ didn’t come with sour cream, and condoms. (Which I found out it doesn’t, thank God.)

After my perverted mind came back into reality I became slightly offended. Either their marketing team needs to get laid or fired. I know the economy is bad, so I’m not going to be the person to write the angry black taco letter to headquarters to get someone fired. However, there is no way to incorporate the color of the taco shell into that ad without being offensive.

Some things are just better left unsaid. Black, red, white tacos all just sound wrong. Can’t it just be a taco? Why must they associate color with it. Ok yeah I get that it’s physically black, I can see the damn thing, but come on. I can’t help but give the side eye when the message of their slogan is basically, ‘come eat our 89 cent black taco’…

*Pulls out black card in one hand and misogyny card in the other*

I’m just sayin…

Here is a version of the ad:

Accessorizing Your House = FAIL

I was minding my own business today. Really I was. I was just sitting in my cube, drinking my tea and working. Yes, actually working. That was until someone sent me this…

What the fuck is this? Extreme Makeover: Hood Edition? I know if somebody did my house like this I would scream in horror instead of excitement. Louis Vuitton is cute as a purse, ok on your nails and just borderline wtf-are-you-doing on the inside of your car, but this shit right here???

*extra side eye*

Please feel free to throw in a few words, a caption, an explanation, etc…

Hood Summer Fest 2009

So I went to a pool party @ the Clarion yesterday. * crickets * I know, that should have been my first red flag. I was lucky they even had a pool. It was a hood fest in its entirety. Clear plastic heels, fake Louis Vuitton and the guys came in groups of ten, dressed in plain white Ts with white towels on their heads.

There was a model contest. Let me rephrase that. There was a booty shakin’ contest. About 10 to 15 girls graced the stage (um box?) in their bikinis. Each one was announced by name and their hobby. I want to say that 90 percent of the hobbies had something to do with dancing, entertaining and possibly doing the splits.

All this happened within the first hour. I needed a drink. My boy was like, “Don’t trip, I got a bottle coming.” One hour later, in room 122 was a bottle of Hennessey, Patron and some cranberry juice. * side eye * I decided my best bet was the bar.

On my way back from the bar, I noticed some girl had decided to take a dip in the hot tub. She’s in the tub. Her fake ass ponytail was lying next to the tub. One of the 25 photographers at the party runs over, snaps a picture and then literally picks up this random girl’s hair and throws it in the trash.

OMG. Yes. This actually happened...

Let me not lie, even though I felt like I was cast in Plies’ next music video, I was entertained. And on the plus side there were no kids there and no one got shot. However, I knew it was time for me to go home when I found someone’s fake tittie (cutlet) on the ground.

Shout out to Big Dave Presents, Socially Flyy , QB Chronicles and BigBootyRemy for the photo!! You know I love you guys. All press is good press :)

Vomit Water

Yo, I don’t know what happened, but I’m still here blogworld. Not quite sure where exactly, but here nonetheless. I think part of it has to do with the fact that I actually have to work at my job and the rest of it is just lack of motivation.

What brings me back here today is something awesome that happened to me this week and I thought I’d share…

About a week ago, my roommate and I noticed that the water wasn’t going down the drain in our bathtub. At first we both just looked at each other and shrugged our shoulders as if to say “oh well’, too lazy to call the landlord. However, when the funk at the bottom of the tub started to leech onto my feet while I was trying to take shower I knew I had to take action.

So the next morning I decided to call the landlord on my way to work. I usually make my roommate call, because after three years the landlord can still never seem to remember my name. I’m assuming a first name basis with someone guarantees better results. Anyway, I call her and tell her what the problem is and at first she tells me, “why don’t you just call somebody?”

Um I live in your apartment. I pay you rent. You are that somebody. (Although looking back now I should have took her advice). After spelling out my name and number for her a few times, she finally sets it up for her son to come and take a look at my tub. He usually takes care of things, so I figure when I get home everything will be copacetic.

Sometime during the day my landlord calls me and says that her son couldn’t fix the problem, to just call someone and foot her the bill. Ok? I get home and my bathroom looks like someone took everything out of its place and put it in a different place. And the tub is still clogged * sigh *.

I decide to wash the dishes while I wait for Roto-Rooter.

As I’m forcing some old Chicken Alfredo, spinach and chunks of other questionable food down my garbage disposal, I can hear something having to do with water in the background. I shut off the disposal, running water and hear again what sounded like a tidal wave and it’s coming from my bathroom…

I don’t know what my landlord’s son did in his efforts to “help”, but now not only was the tub clogged, but the water from my kitchen sink was being drained out of my bathroom sink! And it smelled... smelled like vomit. Vomit water and spinach was splashing everywhere, the floor, into drawers onto my personal things.

After Roto-Rooter left it took my roommate, and I and a ton of bleach, to clean the crusty vomit water out of our lives. The memory still haunts me. * shudder *
On the bright side, it could have been the whole apartment. And today my girl posted on her FB status that she had to call 911 because there was a snake in her house. My glass is half full of vomit water :)

The Hills are unfortunately still alive with the sound of annoying people…

After reading comments to my last post, I realized I needed to clear my hills watching conscience, by trying to figure out why I even watch The Hills in the first place. I honestly have no fucking idea why I watch the show. I used to justify that question with, “I just like to see what everyone is wearing”, but five seasons in that sounds just as ridiculous as the cast.

Heidi Montag is annoying as fuck and I think if she bleaches her hair one more time, the crew is going have to start writing her name on cue cards. Her boyfriend, Spencer Pratt, is like having a Yeast Infection that won’t go away. Lauren Conrad aka LC, cries in every fucking episode. No seriously, her Christmas wish list should read, tissue, waterproof mascara and “I need a hug”.

Every guy on the show is the epitome of ‘douche’, except Brody Jenner and he only gets a get-out-of-jail-free card because he’s sexy as hell. However, I’d prefer it if he didn’t speak. Ever.

Speaking of speaking, I can literally feel myself become dumber with every episode, because ALL conversations on the show go something like this…

Annoying person #1: “Hey.”

Annoying person #2: “Hey.”

Annoying person #1: “What’s going on?”

Annoying person #2: “Nothing”.

Annoying person #1: “Have you talked to so-and-so?”

Annoying person #2: “No.”

And that’s pretty much it on dialogue. Yet, I hang onto every word hoping that one day someone on the show is going to unexpectedly bust out with something deep and meaningful like, “The Pluralistic Ignorance Theory” or “cheap places to get a good boob job”.

Which never happens.

And the best part? I don't even have cable!! I literally have to go out of my way, online, to catch an episode. (I should webcam myself temperamentally yelling at my computer because Heidi got back with Spencer for the hundreth time).

If you watch the show, I hope you can empathize with this post. Other than that this post was just as pointless as the show, because for some reason, I will still watch it.

And in other news...

I feel compelled to write Heidi Montag another inspirational letter on how to get a life and a new man. However, after watching her boyfriend Spencer Pratt and his looking-like-a-molester friend, act ‘gangsta’ on the Hills last night, I think I’ll just leave her alone for the time being. I wouldn’t want Mr. Pratt’s ‘peeps’ to come and ‘throw down hard’ on me for talking ‘smack’.

Besides, why waste time on them when there are so many other wonderful things happening!?

First of all, congratulations to Kim Kardashian for this impressive burn. Look! It’s Magda from “Something About Mary”, meets a very Persian Ooompa Loompa.

And then there was the crazy German lady who woke up and thought, “Hey today would be a great day to hang out with some Polar bears at the Zoo during feeding time.” *thumbs ups!* Remember the alleged tiger attacks at the San Francisco Zoo in 2007? Well that’s what they are trying to call this situation, a “polar bear attack”. I felt sorry for the tigers and I once again empathize with the bears.If I was hungry and some fatty jumped all up in my food for no reason, I might get nervous and bite too, sheiiit.

And last but not least, I feel like the 90s are trying to make a comeback.Like isn’t Ginuwine trying to revive his career?Keisha Knight Pulliam allegedly has a reality TV show coming out and you will never guess who I randomly bumped into at the club last Saturday?

No big announcement or extensive MySpace flyers were sent my way. I had just so happened to be at a particular club celebrating my roomie’s bday, when towards the end of the night the DJ hit us with some old school.“This Is How We Do It!” starting blasting through the speakers and I look over to my left and Montell Jordan is in the crowd on the mic!

He only did that song, before saying he would be in the VIP if anyone wanted to come and kick it.We went down to try and get a pic and there were like only three other people around. LOL I don’t think anyone knew who he was or why he was there. Does he have a new album out? Is the economy that bad?Either way, he was still looking scrum-dayyyyumn-yummie-umptious!!!

Your Publicity Stunt Is Gross

My ex used to make fun of me because I think that everything is gross.

Onions. Gross. Herpes. Gross. The sound of a banana when being chewed. Gross! Gross! Gross!

Not to mention, Kanye West’s ego, Tori Spelling’s boob job, Christian Louboutin’s new sneaker line, Amy Winehouse and waking up the next morning to find vomit in my hair that I didn’t know was there the night before, can all also be classified as gross.

However, I would rather watch a Billy Bob Thornton and George W. Bush rendition of two-girls-one-cup, while eating a Fear Factor delicacy on the toilet before exposing my eyes to this ever again…

Aubrey O'Day sucking on Kathy Griffin's tongue.Ew.

Technically Not Very Savvy

Hey everyone I invested in a web cam !! Whoop! Whoop! This is my first V-blog, ever, choppin' it up with Jeromi...



And dancing with Chris...



Thanks for all the love, lovers!! (Chat with me on woome. (Same email, same name, MsFreshBananaPuddin).

It's like MySpace, but creepier. * thumbs up *

An Open Letter to Fergie

I probably shouldn’t be writing you this, but I guess it’s too late to turn back now. I just wanted to take the time to congratulate you on the new hair. It has done wonders for my eyes. And it also actually makes your eyebrows look somewhat normal.

Before, when you would sing about how glamorous your humps were, I didn’t get it. Something just wasn’t right. From my perspective your humps were not something to brag about and your face is definitely puffier than any lady. And then comparing yourself to a child with a blanket really sobered me up. I was so confused, not only because I wasn’t quite sure where I was at the time, but also because your face is the opposite of that of a child’s.

I’ve been seeing this makeover around the web for a few days now and gheezus what a world of difference this has done for you! Your new hubby may have enjoyed running his fingers through those stringy not quite blonde, not quite brown, ugly, greasy highlights, but I sure could have done without the visual. And thanks to your innovative stylists poof, it’s gone! Yay! Go team!

Anyway, I just wanted to express how happy I am that now when you sing I can actually enjoy watching the talent as well as hearing it. I don’t have to close my eyes and pretend that surprisingly good voice of yours is coming out of someone else’s mouth. It makes the experience that much more enjoyable. So yeah, thanks.

Sincerely,

Ms. Fresh Banana Puddin’
PS- Unfortunately, there still is that part in the middle …

Will Work for Cheese (Among other things)

Well for those of you who don’t know, I’ve been back on the grind in search of another job. And like a good majority of Americans right now, I am BROKE. I’m not even Bobby Brown/MC Hammer broke, I’m Tara Reid/random homeless person broke.

Life is becoming a little less luxurious everyday.

I had to cancel my gym membership, but at the same time I can’t afford to buy food. So lately I just jog around the block and fuck my boyfriend for exercise. Then I eat canned tuna and drink lots of tap water to stay healthy.

I can’t afford to go out and get shit-faced either, so technically I’m in rehab. Therefore, I am still doing ok on the physical level. Mentally, I’m unstable. Instead of cable, I’ve been reading books. With the economy the way that it is, some of us have no choice but to learn how to adjust.

I heard a comedian mention the other night, "When was the last time we've heard Obama say 'Yes We Can!'"? It's like he got into office and started looking over some paperwork, (the big fat binder labeled, "Shit Gone Wrong" next to the Manila folder entitled, "We Fucked Up"), now he's like, "Shit, um maybe we might be able to do some shit, kind of...if we're lucky, we'll see. I'll get back to you."

Most people grew up with some sort of plan in mind. Usually it’s something substantial like go to college, get a job, get married, have some kids, retire and die. I never really had that plan or any other plan for that matter. My mom did. Her plan for me was to make sure that I went to college, which I did. Now I’m fucked, because I didn’t really have a plan for what to do after college.

I mean it was inevitable that I would eventually have to get a “real” job. One that I didn’t have to wear a hot pink mini, cup balls in my hand or contributed to my drinking problem. However, job-hunting (again and for the record I wasn't fired) during this whole economic crisis thingy has me straight struggling.

I have a job interview on Monday. Let.Us.Pray.

Love will choke you and throw you down some stairs if you let it...

I have a friend from high school, who has been dating her boyfriend since high school. A few years ago they packed up and he moved her from sunny California to Oregon, closer to his family. Nine years together and I wouldn’t necessarily call him abusive, but when asked when they’re getting married he says things like, “I’m never going to marry that bitch” or “Ha, yeah right.”

Not understanding why the person she had devoted so my of her life to over the years thought so negatively of her, my friend did what any female would do, she complained.

“If you don’t like it,” he said. “Then why don’t you just leave?”

Fed up, my friend said, “Ok maybe I just will.”

“If you try and leave me,” he threatened later, “I will slash all four of your tires.”

So what did my friend do? She cleaned. She washed the dishes, fed the animals, did the laundry and scrubbed the floors. The next morning she waved him good-bye and as soon as he drove off to work, she threw all of her clean clothes into her car and drove back to Cali.

When she told me the story about a month ago, I was proud of her. However, I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. She would have to stay strong.

The good news is that she’s only 24, so she still has plenty of time to start her life over…

I called her this weekend to see how she was doing. I was in town so I wanted to stop by her mom’s house for a visit. Her response was, “I’m actually on my way back to Oregon, we are going to try and work things out.”

I wasn’t surprised about the news, but I wasn’t happy.

The rumor is that Rihanna and Chris Brown are back together and everyone is angry that Rihanna went back to him.

""All the abusive men are celebrating," Highroller33138 wrote in a posting on the mtv.com Web site. "It sets a terrible example for women everywhere. Rihanna really disappointed me.""

I mean, what exactly did people expect? Shit, look how long it took before Tina left Ike.

Not to be the cynic of all people who see their glass half empty, but I expected it from my friend and I expected it from Rihanna. Most victims return to their abusers for seconds and thirds.

Eve said best, “Love is blind.”

The only thing that really bugs me out of the whole Chris Brown, Rihanna case is that these types of situations happen all the time to people everywhere and now its suddenly an issue. Ugh. Kind of makes me want to punch someone in the face.

MISSING VAGINA

Dear readers,

My vagina has recently packed up and bounced out. So if you see her on I-90 with a suitcase full of lube, condoms and birth control, can you please call me at 1-800-GET-LAID?

Thanks,

MsP

And now a msg from some famous people...

The countdown continues, one more month!!!

Fatty's Workout Plan

[nice shorts!]

Are you sitting down? If not you should sit down for this one…

I joined 24-Hour Fitness. (Insert loud gasp of shock here).

I know, I know, me in spandex, not the business. But fatty’s hungry. Fatty’s got to eat. And fatty doesn’t want to feel guilty for ordering a drink, an appetizer, the whole left side of the menu, desert, a cow and a little something extra to go. Ya know, the works.

If I don’t like jogging, I really don’t like jogging in the rain. I hate the rain and by the end of October it’s going to be way to cold for me to do any outdoor activities. I might have to even cut back on my stalking and fence hopping, because I’m a baby when it comes to being cold.

So now I get to join the meatheads and tiny bitches in spandex. Can’t wait. I updated my iPod, so hopefully I can drown everyone out and will only have to put up with the smell of sweaty metal and balls. Yum.

Wish me luck bitches! I start tomorrow.

MsP

A Nice Shade of Blue

This is what my roomie busted out for breakfast yesterday. Hot dogs with ketchup and a waffle with syrup. On the same plate. At the same time. I thought I was going to throw up. And yes that is hot sauce in the background.

Times are hard man.
Wha wha wha wha.
My baby left me.
Wha wha wha wha.
I can't find a job.
Wha wha wha wha.
I'm so hungry.
Wha wha wha wha.
I got to eat hot dogs!

Oh! Damn right, I got the blues.

Holy Pop Culture!

Haha. Swipe!

Ok where was this party and why wasn’t I invited???!!! >:-/


I'm just saying, can a sista get a table dance?

Sooooo, I have a confession to make. I kissed girl and I liked it. Just kidding. No really, I liked it. Ok, ok for real, my confession is that I think Miley Cyrus is kind of badass. I just wish she were a little older so I wouldn’t feel so guilty about enjoying her not contributing to society.

Don’t tell anybody I just said that either…

Well, if it isn’t obvious enough, I watched the VMAs. This is exciting news guys! I don’t have cable, I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.

However, I watched it with a bunch of guys, which was a bad fuckin’ idea. All I heard the whole time was how thick Rhianna’s thighs are and how many Kama Sutra positions she is wanted in. It's bad enough the bitch already stole my man, now I got to hear about her sexy thighs? Ugh.

It’s cool though, because I have a new crush. Oh yeah, Christopher Mintz-Plasse, sexy nerd. You could be my McLovin anytme baby.

PS- I know I suck at blogging right now. Please feel free to give me a cyber slap in my comments.

MsP

Random funny shit up in this bitch!

My little brother had that strip on his MySpace. Should I be worried?

So, I read on BestWeekEver’s blog that Diddy can’t fly his private jet because gas prices are too high. Yes he is forced to fly commercial like the rest of us. I don’t know if I feel sorry for Diddy or the people sitting next to him in first class.

Could you imagine sitting next to him and his walk-and-get-me-a-cheesecake-at-4a.m.-on 24th-avenue attitude? I might finally have an excuse to write a letter to someone about these prices. Can someone please lower gas prices, before Diddy puts a stewardess into the crazy house?

I found this clip of George Keith on SketchyPremise from awhile ago. If you’ve already seen it, then don’t fucking watch it. If you haven’t, check it out. He had me dying talking about his non-comedy job and ex-wife.

Skinny Bitches Only Jog if They Can't Afford Surgery

I’ve decided that after thirty I’m not working out anymore. I’m just going to go and get all the fat sucked out of my body. I’m serious, I want Dr. Rey or somebody to take that big long metal knife and chop me up into little pieces.

Maybe also do some rearranging, like pull the fat from my thighs and put it into my ass. Then mold my gut into some kind of boobage/cleavage creation. That’s right. Get creative! Make me beautiful bitches! By the time I am thirty they will have discovered new ways to make me look like a ten-year-old on crack.

Until then I must eat right and exercise. I say this like I’m on a Jedi mission. Which is the only reason why when my so-called friend asked me to go jogging the other day I said, “yes”.

I don’t jog. Wait, let me rephrase that, I can’t fucking jog. It’s like the Special Olympics. I look like a four-year-old in the grocery store, when their mom just told them they couldn’t have something. You know and they do that run where their head turns into a bobble head and their arms flail around uncontrollably. And they whine, “but mom whyeeeeeeeeee!?”

Yeah that’s me, in spandex.

The last time I went jogging was at the gym and it’s been a few years. I remember huffing and puffing on a treadmill, when this chick like eight months pregnant hops on next to me. No really, not fat she was fucking skinny and pregnant.

After about 5 whole minutes of running I couldn’t take it anymore. My chest started to burn, I needed a hip replacement and I lost all feeling in my knees. And here this bitch was next to me just casually jogging for two.

So anyway, my friend and I ended up on this two-mile trail through the woods. All of which I probably only jogged a good fifteen minutes. The whole time I was thinking about what I was going to eat next. Three days later, my knees are still swollen and I don’t feel any skinnier.

I’m telling ya, I can’t wait until I’m thirty…

Chivalry Died, The Penis Killed It

Ok boys, I’m going to give each and every one of you a chance to defend yourself, but not before I pop you all upside the back of the head.

Honestly, I am disappointed in the men of my generation at the moment. I’m not just speaking from my own experience this time, because three, not one, not two, but three of my girls hit me up over this last week with some, “oh hell naw!” stories about the men in their lives. From infidelity to lying to saying some stupid shit like, “you’ll have to leave the bar right now you’re fucking up my game.”

????????????????

I’m sorry, the only girls I will condone that kind of behavior towards is maybe the ones who walk around with T-shirts that read, “save a virgin, do me instead,” or “cock-a-doodle-do-me.” And I blame them too, but other than that, unacceptable.

Focus boys, focus. If you can’t grasp the concept that girls in porn get paid good money to two-girls-one-cup-it, we got a problem. Please understand reality TV is far from reality and networks purposely cast those girls to walk around on camera in their booty shorts with their titties hanging out.

They get paid to get drunk and make out with half the cast and staff. In fact it's more than likely in their contracts right next to, "blow the director." Besides most of them probably also have the I.Q. of a grape. And since when is that sexy?

What is the deal yo?

Guys listen up—pull out a fucking chair, buy some freakin’ flowers and “you’re ass looks phat in those jeans” does not constitute as a compliment. Also, don’t tell a girl you want to be with her if you can’t back it up by your actions.

For the most part I’m just really disgusted. I know some of the guys that read my blog are married, faithful and all around good guys. Well can you leave some pointers to the rest of the dumbasses out there?

Right now I am opening up my comments for a session on the etiquette of how to treat a lady or at least how to weed the ladies out from the floozies. And for those of you fellas who feel the need to defend yourselves, please, be my guests, because I just don’t get it.