Tag Archives: dating

Crop Circles, Natural Beauty OR Lonely Farmer ?

Ever wonder how or why these visually pleasing works of art seem to only pop up in farm land crops?

I have a theory and this is it, lonely farmers. That’s right. I mean think about it, these people wake up hours before the rest of the world, work all day in the blistering heat on a tractor that rumbles and vibrates, tickling parts that some people have to pay to have tickled that way. Only to go home at the end of it all too exhausted from the heat to indulge in the personal companionship of their significant others. So in the midst of the day when break time is about, the closest companion is a sheep. Hold on, don’t get mad, this is just a  theory after all. Now a sheep, like some females I know, want no part of physical activity that is one-sided, soooo  the sheep RUNS LIKE HELL. Dodging, swerving and moving in..  ( pause for dramatic effect ),  Circles.  Or there are Aliens trying to communicate with us.

this post is for humor purposes only, no actual sheep were molested in the creation of this post.

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Books and Blue Balls

A friend of mine thinks she’s some slick shit posting a conversation she had with her mother. Fuck that. I’m posting the conversation I had with her. XXXXXXXX is a buddy of mine who would kill us both if we said who he really was in the book.

HER: I’ve got an idea for a book I want to write.

ME: Really? What’s it about?

HER: It’s about guys (and girls) who grew up like we did. I’ve already got most of it written and one of the characters is XXXXXXXX. There’s another character I want to base on you. But don’t worry, it’ll only be a little bit. So…can I use your name?

ME: My name? But my name sucks.

HER: That’s why.

ME: Fuck you.

HER: Come on. I’ll make you awesome!!!

ME: Oh yeah? How?

HER: I’ll make the hot girl from the book fall in love with you.

ME: Do I get laid? Because no deal if I don’t get laid.

HER: I promise you’ll get laid in my book. Just trust me on this.

ME: Can you swear this book will get me some pussy?

HER: FUCK YEAH IT WILL!

So…I said yes. Cut to six months and about 200 Kinkos made novels later:

RANDOM CAMPUS HOTTIE: Are you the Jeb from that book?

ME: Why yes I am.

RANDOM CAMPUS HOTTIE: Oh…ok. Hey, is that guy River real too? Me and my friends think he’s hot. So if he is can you hook me up?

ME: Uh…did you read the book?

RANDOM CAMPUS HOTTIE: Sure, why?

ME: So you know River’s a dick.

RANDOM CAMPUS HOTTIE: No he’s not. He’s just misunderstood.

ME: Yeah, River’s real. He works over at the Rathskellar. But River’s not his real name. Ask for Doug (Doug is the jacked up drunk who sleeps on a cot out back and earns his keep cleaning the toilets).

Cut to me two years later with blue balls and a bunch of numbers for River.

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MY WOMAN HATES MY MUSIC

We listen to HER music in the car.
We listen to HER music at the house.
We listen to HER music in bed.
Now that’s where I draw the line. Especially when I hear this:

I don’t know about you, but this is bullshit. How the fuck am I gonna get the job done listening to this estrogen fest? Dude, I’m not. Do you think she listens to anything I’m into? I’ll answer for you. No, she doesn’t.

Disturbed is too scary and Godsmack is too loud and there’s nothing romantic about Metallica. There’s something sad and wrong about a man who knows every word to every song PANIC AT THE DISCO ever recorded. But that’s the price of pussy in my life. My woman wins. Every damn time.

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