I was flipping through The Frisky today at work — you know, like it was a real live juicy gossip rag, only more-poorly written and filled with imbecilic content — and several items caught my attention. First was the weird plug for “teen power couple pencils.” You can’t even design your own power couple pencil? That should be the product, guys. Otherwise what’s the point? No one’s going to know what half of those names mean. And if you have to explain it, it won’t be funny. Also if you let us design our own pencils I could get a pack of [redacted] & Sarah Roemer pencils to not-so-subtly leave at coffeeshops and casting calls all over Los Angeles. And I could sharpen ’em real well and shove them up my urethra while I watch The Event Season 1 (Also The Complete Series) DVD. “Oh yeah Sarah…Just stand there looking awkward, baby…I’m so hard…Don’t blink…DON’T BLINK…Mumble your lines for me, girl…Tell me what you want me to do…Fuck…Your uncomfortable line reads…Oh God…I’m coming…”
Second was the post about “Occupy Wall Street” Condoms. I guess they’re handing these out at the protests. Which seems kinda pointless to me. What young guy out at a protest really wants to occupy a condom? If you meet some cute chick there whose ideologies are in line with your own and you’re both smitten with each other, just fuck in the streets! Is there a more beautiful way to cope with the chaos (or order, whatever) around you? Remember in Vancouver after the Stanley Cup Finals everyone rioted and that famous picture of two people kissing captured the attention of tens of people? Well…that, only with full penetration.
Condoms are a waste of condoms.
Then I came upon this article called “The 5 Craziest Ways I Met Men” by someone named Anna David. Is she new to the Frisky’s staff? If so, don’t I have to introduce her to MY staff? After all, that’s usually how I vet the website’s contributors. With my penis.
Anna’s verrrryyyy crazy when it comes to meeting guys. She’s met guys volunteering (!!!)…she’s met guys speed dating (!!!!!!!!!)…she’s even met a guy while walking her dog (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!). Yeah, she must be a stone fox. I can’t wait for her first “What We’re Wearing Today” Frisky feature. Which reminds me. I should start posting photos of myself every day so you all know what I’m wearing. Vanity, ladies, is very unbecoming. No wonder you’re all single (Looking at you, Amelia — my “offer” still “stands” if you know what I mean (read: my “penis” still “works”)).
The rest of the list is just as pathetic. I honestly expected one of her “craziest” scenarios to include Match.com — wouldn’t that just be the craziest!?
Here’s the 5 Craziest Ways I’ve Met Women.
1. Pretzels: I was 12 years old, she was throwing them at the back of my head during a screening of Grumpier Old Men at the Lowes Cinema on Route 10 in East Hanover, New Jersey. Stop me if I’ve told this story before. My friend Dan went to talk to her, and she apparently thought I was hot (in hindsight, though, how can any 12-year-old be considered hot? That concept seems so wrong!). She asked him to send me back to talk with her, and it didn’t take long for me to slip into the seat next to her and start fondling her tits. She was into it so I went for the belt buckle, unzipped her jeans and shoved my hand into her panties (is this considered child porn since I’m writing about myself as a 12 year old with an equally-underaged girl?). I thought I was fingering her through the gag reel at the end of the film. I thought I’d fingered her as I ducked out of the theater with my friends. I thought I’d fingered her all the way back to my house, where some guy was installing a new ping pong table in my dad’s basement. I thought I’d fingered her until I smelled my finger. From then on I wasn’t quite sure what I’d fingered. I went back to the same movie theater later that night with my friend David to see Dracula Dead And Loving It in the hopes that she was still hanging around waiting for me to return and do the job right.
Side benefit: I learned the difference between a girl’s vagina and asshole.
Be wary of: Venereal Disease, 12-year-old-girls who are that sexually advanced in 1995, Pedophiles.
Overall grade: B
2. Urinating: In my newly-single days I did a lot of stupid things and met a lot of drunk women. My breakup bender lasted 75 days. I blew through more than $2,500 (not including my $550 birthday dinner bill). I was not shy about hitting on women, and I did so in every corner of Los Angeles. One of the easiest spots to meet cute girls was a bar on the west side I would frequent once a week. The street the bar is on is constantly bustling, and there are a ton of restaurants and food stands that stay open beyond the mandatory 2am closing time for LA bars. At one of those eateries on some random weeknight I drunkenly decided to leave my friends and slip away to relieve myself. I walked to a nearby bathroom and arrived at the doorknob just as an even-more smashed blonde girl was reaching for it. We looked at each other, us both wobbling and not at all prepared to be feign politeness. We chuckled. I opened the bathroom door and motioned to her, implying “After you,” probably with a ridiculous smirk plastered to my face. She squatting over the toilet, me standing next to her at the urinal, we decided to become friends. Good friends. Best friends. We don’t speak anymore.
Side benefit: Blondes have more fun.
Be wary of: Girls you meet in public restrooms when you’re drunk.
Overall grade: A-
3. Family Wedding: Before I get started, no I don’t think we were related. I mean, I’m pretty sure I remember her saying she was a cousin of the guy who was marrying my cousin, so unless the bride and groom were also related it was not technically incest. Also she was 15. You know what? It’s probably better if I don’t tell this story.
Side benefit: Facebook makes all our interactions feel super creepy!
Be wary of: Sex laws in your state.
Overall grade: B-
4. Mouse Costume: Yes, I’m just as aware as you are that for three of the four years I’ve donned the mouse costume on Christmas Eve I was in a committed relationship. But think about this: I’m running around town getting drunk off my ass in a GIANT MOUSE COSTUME. Who isn’t going to want to be friends with someone who does that? Only the most cynical assholes (read: the people I met in year one at all the Echo Park hipster dive bars), that’s who. So yeah…I’ve made a lot of friends dressed as a mouse. The hostess as that place on Cahuenga. Strippers. Random black chicks at whiskey bars. And a number of equally drunk girls in downtown Los Angeles and across Hollywood. I swear on my life I never cheated on my girlfriend. I might be an asshole but I’m not an ASSHOLE. Still, I don’t think it’s cheating if you swap Facebooks or phone numbers and maybe touch base every few months, you know, just in case the inevitable breakup finally happens…
Side benefit: You’re dressed as a giant mouse at a bar. You can steal a bottle of liquor and the worst that’s going to happen is the bartender is going to laugh at you.
Be wary of: Anything that could possibly happen outside of your peripheral vision. Sometimes douchebags will punch you in the back of the head because they know you can’t see them approaching.
Overall grade: C
5. Freshman Orientation: I didn’t get laid much in college. I was in a relationship for the first year-plus, and once that relationship ended it was like I was in “time out” for the rest of my sophomore year. When your college only boasts 2,200 students and a girl in a sorority gets dumped everyone on campus knows about it. I’ve heard stories about kids at my college who swore they were blacklisted from the entire single community after their relationships ended. The only way they could date was if they dated someone else who had already broken up with someone on campus. Fucking weird, right? My point is, to get laid I had to look outside of my college. Until senior year, when I decided to scope out the incoming freshman class at their orientation. I swung for the fences and picked this gorgeous 6’1″ freckled brunette who it turned out was from a neighboring town in New Jersey. After graduation (hers of course, not mine) we started hanging out. Things slowed down when I found out she didn’t graduate at age 18 like most of us do, but a quick Google search reminded me the age of consent in Jersey is 16 so…that settled that!
Here’s a funny video of two friends and from that summer (2005), BONGED out of our minds talking about life and stuff. She comes up in conversation briefly as she had stopped by to meet the guys and listen to us get stoned and jam in my basement. She never did tell me if she liked my music or not…
Side benefit: What’s that line from Dazed And Confused about growing older and high school girls staying the same age? Well, apparently you could fuck a college girl for two years and she’s still old enough to be in high school!
Be wary of: Girls with whom your first kiss also marks the first time she’s cheating on her boyfriend. They usually have much more deeply-rooted psychological issues than you initially realize.
Overall Grade: A
6. Reading The Frisky: Hi Amelia. I think you’re an A+.
Lil B – Secrets Pt. 1
