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The Slut version of Forrest Gump

There is a difference between ignorant and dumb.

Ignorant has a connotation of lacking experience while dumb doesn’t get it, will never get it, experienced or not.

And then there is “Dignorumb”, a mix of the two.

Enter the girls, named for simplicity, Dumb, Dumber and Stupid.

Words come to mind as I listen these young ladies discuss life, the universe and someone named Carlo’s dick.

Dumber, it seems, has discovered sex.

Dumb and Stupid are more slut-sperienced than Dumber, but there is a Jerry Springer-esq trashiness to then that adds an almost charming ambiance to the affair.

The ladies, if you can call them that, are somewhere in their 20’s, but not far out of their teens.

Its like watching three conspirators talk about assassinating a president, except that the victim is a penis and – no, a Lincoln’s head exploding metaphor is just too easy.

I guess what ruins this whole situation is that there should be a dirty old man aspect to the listening in here, and there just isn’t.

I am sporting a big ol soft of over this one, which is a little disconcerting.

I should be at half mast, at least.

Its not sexy, just kind of sad, in a “Decline of Western Civilization” kind of way.

God, am I getting old.

Or maybe just too old to be dumb anymore.

Back when I was young, dumb and full of cum, my dick and I had adventures that would make Frodo Baggins flinch.

We tossed the “The one to rule them all” into the fires many a night and lived to tell the tale.

But this lacks that same excitement.

Dumb, Dumber and Stupid, not knowing any better, are excited as hell, but with that kind of semi-fake “Game show” excitement.

A gameshow with STD’s for prizes.

And the “Lightening Round” is illegal in the state of Georgia.

Now, and here is why I am calling Bullshit to Dumber’s claim that the legendary Carlo and his mythical schwantz.

I happen to know a girl who lost her virginity to a horse-like guy.

And she was seriously sore for a few days after.

At no time during Dumb, Dumber or Stupid’s conversation did any discussion of pain, swelling or soreness come up.

Which means that it either Carlo is not a horse from the waist down or he is and has no control and fouled his under-roos before the deed could be accomplished.

And that is as uncomfortable and gross as it sounds.

But happens all the time.

And yet, give it time, 20 years down the road, these unruly sluts will be someone’s wise and sweet mother.

God help us all.

There is a kind of an ugly equation at work here.

Take Dumb, Dumber and Stupid, add sex, minus common sense, and you have a frightening answer.

Here is a hint, it will raise your taxes and increase the head count at the Occupy rally 18 years from now.

But, at least my coffee is still hot.

No matter what else happens, they can’t take that away from me.

At least not yet.

Mmmmm coffee.

 
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Posted by on September 16, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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Who’s the bigger hoe?

Here we are, where we have been so many times before.

Two young 20 somethings in line at Starbucks.

The black dresses are a little wrinkled, makeup has got some sloppy city miles on it, the hair has that look like they were fighting off the bottom on the couch for a half hour before they took that show into the bedroom and taught that hairstyle the meaning of the word respect.

But it is the 6 inch hooker heels at 8 am on a Sunday that says, loud and clear…

Walk of shame.

Time for our favorite sexist gameshow –

“Who’s the bigger hoe?”™

Our first contestant, lets call her Tammy. (A little too much mascara from the night before and she is channeling a Tammy Fay Baker vibe. Google that and click “Images” when you see the pic of her crying with WAY too much mascara, you get it.)

Tammy was a pretty blonde with stylish long blonde hair…. yesterday. Today, she looks like she has “Jersey hair” and may have been initiated into the Hell’s Angels a few hours ago. (You can Google that, but its filthy.)

Tammy has a tattoo of the Chinese character for bread on the back of her neck. (I Googled that one myself.)

And she keeps talking about someone name Naldo. Lets assume that is who her stylist is this morning.

And now its time to meet our other contestant, Babs.

Babs is slightly older, and I am being generous here.

If I had to call it and I was being honest, I would have to say that Tammy probably dated Babs son at some point. When they broke up, Babs decided to finally become one of the popular kids and began hoeing around with her son’s ex.

To call her a peroxide blonde with fake tits is an insult to honest sluts everywhere.

She is trying way too hard and it shows.

So, after having missed out on the swimsuit competition, (And who doesn’t love a love in a bikini?) we move on to the talent portion of the show.

Tammy’s talent appears to be texting and it looks like she is good at it. The high point of her performance was when she looked up at Babs and talked for about a minute and never stopped texting the entire time.

It was impressive.

And now its Babs turn.

Babs talent is her core skill.

Being Slutty.

“What was Naldo’s friend’s name? He’s young enough to be my son!”

No shame, no morals, no brains, no headaches.

We have a runaway winner, it wasn’t even close.

Like a young Brando, she nailed it (And Naldo’s nameless friend) coming thru the door.

Impressive, and sad.

And I hope Naldo’s friend has health care, because the parting gift is an STD.

(I can only imagine the hate mail being generated as we speak. Sad thing is, I kind of agree with it, this is pretty vile, even for me. Unless of course, Babs is your mother, then that hoe is your problem, not mine.)

 

 
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Posted by on February 19, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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Don’t be showing your koochie in public.

There is a special bond between two people that grew up together.

Time doesn’t touch some friendships. They just endure and continue on as if nothing happened and no time has passed.

Here is what I am looking at.

Picture two girls, either late teens or early twenties.

Judging by their conversation, they grew up together, but have not been in touch for a number of years.

And life has led them down different paths.

They say you can’t judge someone based on their looks.

Bullshit.

I don’t need to walk a mile in your Nike’s just to figure out that they would never fit me.

I would much rather sit in morally superior tower and cast judgement on others.

Here is why.

The first girl, she is the good girl next door.

Clean cut, smelling of Ivory soap and with freshly brushed teeth that once had braces.

She is a law student by my guess. Innocently studying to lose her soul and become the embodiment of badness in the business law.

If you are a guy, your mother would have been thrilled if you brought her home from college for Thanksgiving dinner. (Or a girl for that matter. She is that wholesome.)

If you are a girl, (Straight girl), your mom would prefer that you hang out with her because she is a “Good influence”.

So do we all understand that she is the essence of “Sweetness and Light” in this little scenario?

Good.

Now we move on to her friend.

Ok.

So, go live the life you want to live, but if you look like, talk like, act like, behave like, and generally are, in fact a ho…

Then you’s a ho.

Opposite end of the spectrum time.

Let’s call her Babs.

Babs is a little chunky, got some pasty looking legs, but that is not stopping her from wearing a minidress that is high enough to shock her OB Gyn and tight enough to threaten circulation if she washes it just once.

There are some faded bruises on her thighs. And we are not speculating where they came from, just noting that they are there.

She is missing a tooth near the front that brings Meth into the equation.

There is some bags under those eyes that are there a decade or more ahead of schedule.

It would not shock me to find a tattoo on her lower back, right under the tramp stamp that you KNOW is there, that says “Property of Hell’s Angels”

You can google that one and still may not find out how you get that little tattoo. (I was told by a girl who had one right before I grabbed my clothes and backed slowly out of the room naked.)

So Babs has been road hard and put away wet, just to use some equestrian verbiage there.

Life has been tough and some bad decisions have been made.

But the good girl and the bad girl are now catching up on things.

School, jail, relatives, deaths, and what not.

And the good girl is managing to keep her flinching to a minimum.

And the bad girl is managing not to tweak too much.

And while they seem to be getting along, that is a long latte to get thru.

But they finished and parted ways after a little while.

Someone had to go study and someone else had to go handle some “Bidness”.

And life goes on.

 
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Posted by on December 4, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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Where do bad girl’s come from?

Where do all the bad girl’s come from?

And I am not talking about the ones we went to high school with, we all pretty much KNOW where they came from.

I mean the next generation of questionable floozies that are coming up thru the ranks as we speak.

Two of them, at least are in Starbucks right now.

It is Saturday afternoon and I am taking a break from a bike ride along the beach because my ass falls asleep if I don’t.

And, if the idea of it being sunny enough in Southern California to ride along the beach in short while the rest of the US is snowed in and warily eying each other trying to figure out who to eat first, please remember that its all relative.

Not relative in the usual sense, I mean that my relatives had me in a place that the weather rocks most of the time and your relatives decided freezing to death was muy bueno.

Not my fault.

Now, back to the evil with cleavage that are waiting for their lattes.

The management of Starbucks can thank their lucky stars that I do not find women half my age to be viable or they would have a major scene involving the police because I am not above humping a leg in public to make my point.

These girls figured out what men like and the Almighty has blessed them with extra.

Some might argue that showing enough cleavage from a DD cup that there is danger of public nipplege is unecceptable in some part.

I disagree.

However, if either one of these Barely Legal (Girls, not the Hustler video series, not that I’d know.) youngsters was my daughter, the police would be involved.

For homicide.

Modesty is a dead thing in this country.

I saw an interview with a young woman who had put off going to college for a few years because, and I quote, YOLO.

She admited to being 30 years old as the reporter explained that YOLO means “You Only Live Once.”

Two things.

The first one is that putting off college for 12 years is not putting it off, its refusing to admit that you flunked the entrance exam.

The second thing that comes to mind is that, indeed, you only live once, so why waste it as an aging hipster consistantly soaked in Ecstasy, cheap alcohol, and semen from random hook ups.

Two are bad for your complexion and the other will get you aids.

(A friend, reading over my shoulder, just asked me if I am intentionally trying to piss people off. Guilty as charged.)

An interesting flip side of the coin is watching the older men in a locale react to these low-rent ho’s.

Its just an opinion, but a man in his late 40’s that finds an 18 year old girl hot could be a pedophile.

I stopped reading Playboy years ago for this very reason.

She’s not hot if she’s young enough that I could have fathered her.

Argue that one all day long, its not gonna work.

Tell your story walking, Short eyes.

(Found that phrase on Google, prison gaurd slang for pedophile. Thank you Google)

My father once told me, (Source of MASSIVE amounts of wisdom) you are free to look and dress anyway you want to in life, but don’t ever make me embarrassed to point you out as mine.

Words to live by, ladies.

 
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Posted by on January 24, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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