I talk a big game in my articles when in reality, girls avoid my wiener like the plague. Think of my dick like a used gift card for Best Buy — it’s only barely useful and usually buried deep in my pocket. No one asks me for it and if I show it to anyone, they almost certainly won’t be impressed by it. That all works well for me when I have a girlfriend because if you’re lucky enough to get trapped in a relationship with me, you’re obligated to at least look at it. And really I don’t ask for much more. Why would I? To disappoint you? No thanks. However, now that I am painfully alone and don’t have the luxury of familiar intimacy, things are always new and different…
AND WEIRD!
I am bad at one night stands, I’ll be the first (and probably not the last) to admit it. I approach things of that nature like a girl. I need a level of comfort before I can let loose …sexually… and by that I mean, let’s turn all the lights out, ok? And don’t look at my body. And don’t touch my face, neck, or hair. And don’t get your cum on me, it’s gross.
I fail at all three aspects of your everyday, average, one-nighter:
1. The Approach/Pick-Up –
I mentioned something about re-grouping in my Winning Your Breakup article, where you get in shape and hook up with girls — over a dozen per week, usually three at a time. Well not to sound like a fraud but I don’t think I’m winning my breakup yet… perhaps I am poised for a second half comeback. But probably not. What I’m saying is that when I go out, I normally don’t look overly-handsome. And I’m usually sweaty because it’s the summer and I just got off work… but anyways:
Thank goodness that picking up girls doesn’t actually involve lifting them into the air because recently, some of my latest endeavors would put me at risk for a sports hernia. Speaking of sports, my “game” is very Allen Iverson- I don’t practice and I might be kind of little but I get it in the hole no matter how ugly it gets. I am RELENTLESS at the rim. But seriously, the way I get girls interested in me actually goes a little like this: I wear my restaurant chef jacket with the logo on it, quickly turn the conversation to me and food, and describe how I work with my hands all day (bullshit), using words that she definitely doesn’t understand (and, usually I don’t either). If it works, it works. If it doesn’t, there’s always xvideos.com. And it doesn’t work often so thank goodness for xvideos.com.
2. The Sex–
The sex is a mess. I really shouldn’t even write this next part because last week my Mom suggested I not talk about/post stuff on Facebook about, “orgasming on girls’ faces”. I wanted to tell her that while I certainly don’t sleep with respectable girls who would be against it, I have a ghost’s whisper of a conscious left, which still covers acceptable female anatomy to “finish” on. (Girls somehow still reading this article — turned on yet?)
I joke about sex a lot in my posts, saying I’m either really good or really bad at it. Neither are actually true.. unless it’s the first time you are letting me Raid your Lost Ark. Because then I’m bad. Like Superbad.
Here’s my fool-proof 7-step guide to a night devoid of any passion (I left out the last step where girls say, “thanks for trying”):
- I get a raging errection at the slightest hint of a kiss or flash of upper arm/ankle skin. Seriously- touch your lips to mine and I’m poking the button on your pants with the tip of my wiener.
- You’re a girl so it takes more than 1 second for you to be ready for sex … so I lose my boner by the time you are and get so nervous that it won’t come back up, that it stays away for an uncomfortable amount of time.
- Hey…It’s back. Is it?
- A little more “foreplay”. This is my 2nd best step. At this point, you should consider packing the small amount of pleasure I have given you into a very small Carry-On bag and leave on a Jet Plane before things get more uncomfortable.
- Insertion
- I finish far too early.
- I feel bad and go down on you for a week, a skill I have garnered through years of relationships where my penis failed to bring ladies pleasure on a regular basis. BUT that all changes when I’m drunk — even this is bad. If I have had a few too many Miller Chills, I am a GPS with an aggressively outdated Mapp Pack. And that GPS leaks a lot all over you… I’m having a hard time conveying spitty vagina licks because they are nasty but happen. Sometimes real life isn’t funny… sometimes it’s yucky.
After about 11 beers and the fact that the highly esteemed members of society I convince/pay to come back with me smell like Virginia Slimz from head to toe (RIP) … you should be imagining one flaccid mess where I say, “sorry,” about 15 times.
Sorry, Mom.
3. The Aftermath–
The aftermath is the part that I really don’t understand. Pretty much every time that one of these debacles goes down, the girls want to keep in touch in various ways- be it as friends or, and this is shocking, they want to fornicate again. I d o n ‘ t g e t i t . I disappointed you with my penis and you saw me naked. RUN if you know what’s good for you. But I am dumb so I tell them that I’d love to see them again and all that jazz when in reality I can barely bare the shame of thinking about last night never mind repeating it. NO. So I end up phasing you out and you text me, “at least be a big enough man and tell me you don’t want to talk to me anymore.” Sweetie, you saw how big of a man I was last night, you should have seen this coming even if you didn’t.



mike, we should start blogging again.