parrot-head poon.

1. I really love girls in Ugg's, especially when they wear tight jeans and a big jacket with a furry lined hood, and Ugg's. I don't know why but it's so hot to me. I think it may take me back to some primeval urge, an instinctive attracttion, maybe not everyone is in tune with this retro cave woman connection, but I am.

One time I went to this theme park after dropping a micro-dot and went missing near the beer garden. Turns out i was found hours later dry humping a Clidesdale horse when all along I thought I was having a sexy threesome with two girls in Uggs. Needless to say, I am banned for life from Busch Gardens and Sea World.

2. I have always hated Jimmy Buffett and his cleverly named Coral Reefer Band but I will say one thing, you go to one of those shows and you have a 100% chance of getting laid in the parking lot. I was at the Florida Panthers game last night and there were ads everywhere for an upcoming Buffett concert, all my memories rushed back and I thought I had to share. The first time I went to a Buffett show, I was twelve and dragged by my parents. Not only was it the first time I smelled weed but the first time I had seen bare breasts in my face, everywhere. Old boobs, young boobs, fat boobs, painted boobs, saggy boobs, everyone was high and nobody was shy. I had to remain seated the entire show for fear of random boner. On the way out, women were pinching my ass, grabbing my crotch, rubbing my head, I was twelve years old! I was amazed.

The second time I saw Buffett live, I was older and I went for one reason, to turn those butt pinches and flat hands into a full out sex romp. And it was so easy, grab the first stoned 28 year old you see and tell her you have weed in your Expedition, she will follow you cross counties and do things to you that you've only heard about from the 60's. Some of you may have to drop your standards for this 100% rate, like maybe an older parrot-head, or put up with weed breath or deal with a kid waiting outside the car or hide from her normally tame husband. Anyway, it's worth a try, go for it.

3. You want to know what frustrates me more than anything in the world? My iPhone not letting me say HELL, it always changes it to HE'LL. ALWAYS!

two quick things.

1. I hope that when I'm older, I'm not attracted to teenage girls. I was talking to my pilot friend the other day at a bar, he is 29 and was explaining to me that its no big deal for him to date a 17 year old if he wanted to. He was making me physically ill. Now I will agree, some of these teens look like full grown adults with their premature developed chests and toned legs but the difference in emotional and mental capacity is disgusting. What the fuck would a 29 year old talk about with a 17 year old? Nothing. I think my friend is a pervert and I may have to keep an eye on him. But then again, maybe it's something we all go through as we get older, I'm not attracted to teens but maybe when I'm 29 I will be. I hope not.

I've said it once, I'll say it again. Please stop pumping chicken with hormones so I can stop accidentally hitting 16 year olds.

Every time I do this I go home and vomit, and then slam my penis under Infinite Jest.

2. I have successfully made it three quarters of the way through dating off season. At least that is my current scapegoat for a nonexistent love life. In case you are unaware, dating off season takes place from Thanksgiving to Valentines Day and the whole idea is that you won't have to meet parents or buy gifts so early in the relationship. Plus, it seems easier to fall head over heels for someone when it's cold and Christmas music is playing. I've been following these rules for several years now because the last time I started dating someone in November, it ended in disaster. Kind of a blow your load all at once type thing. We were obsessed with each other, it was romantic, and then we became bored in March. One more month to go, I must stay strong.

Do you think dating off season is a good idea?

your mouth turns me off.

I've never considered myself a boob guy nor a butt guy rather I've always been obsessed with voices. People who know me can vouch, it's always the first thing I comment on.

Far too often, I will be physically attracted to someone and maybe even into their personality but then the way they talk completely turns me off.

It goes beyond accents, I like most accents with a few exceptions. It could be the way their mouth moves, it could be their teeth or gums when exposed or it could be their voice. Let me give you some examples...

1) If you ask me, Natalie Portman is the most gorgeous woman alive, if I saw her in person I might be tempted to rape her. Now imagine if Natalie had that scratchy party girl voice. As if she removed her vocal chords every night and soaked them in a glass of whiskey by the sink. At that point, I don't think I could rape her. Sometimes raspy is nice but I've talked to some girls who have extremely raspy voices. Turn off.

2) One thing I'm not fond of is an attractive slender woman with a man voice. What the fuck happened to your voice? What's the reason for this? I apologize if you have a man voice, it doesn't make you any less of a person, just know I am never going to fuck you.

3) Slow talkers drive me nuts, minimum mouth movement, monotone, crawling cadence. Please leave me alone.

What kind of voices turn you off?

Is it enough to be a deal breaker?

Do you like Natalie Portman?

commercials.

According to television ads, and I base all fact on these, people with Herpes and overactive bladders are way more outgoing than I am. They are always white water rafting or throwing frisbies to golden retrievers or running down a beach with their loved one who's cool with their disease so long as they are taking their meds. And they always have athletic gear on, sweatpants, sports bras, head bands. You would think that commercials like these would inspire me to be more active but no, they have the opposite effect. It seems to me that the only people with prostate problems and high cholesterol are athletes. Like they always say, everything in moderation, it's obvious to me now that if youre not careful and spend too much time doing stuff outdoors, youre going to get an STD.

I also learn from commercials, that big Jews love Windows 7.

Glasses.

I was on Facebook looking at my cousins mobile uploads, mostly pictures of himself trying to look thug. One of the pictures was self taken, over head, him looking up to the camera with these glasses on. His caption simply said “$200 Prada glasses”. Mind you this kid works in the meat department at Publix and drives a Grand Am. I decided he was in need of a lesson, it’s not right to brag about expensive things or even buy things just because they are expensive.

I had just done a line of coke and was already wearing my Valentino suit so I jumped into my Vantage for the two hour drive south.

Half way down, I stopped at a Starbucks and ordered three chai’s, I only drink one of them but order three because I can. I realized half way through my chai that I still had my Moss Lipow aviators on and my earbuds weren’t actually plugged in to my 17” Macbook Pro, so everyone in the Starbucks was listening to This American Life with me. All I could think is how pretentious I must look, and also how good.

I finally arrive at my cousins house, which is also my uncles house since he doesnt have the money to move out. I storm his room and tear him from his bed.

“Where are they!” I screamed.

I see on his messy bureau, the glasses. I grab them and he jumps to protect them. I throw them to the floor and stomp them as he cries from his knees.

“Don’t cry on my Berluti’s please.” I say.

I throw him a $20 and tell him to go buy some Foster Grant’s from Wal-Mart.

End of story, lesson learned.

My awkward life.

As if I hadn't experienced enough already to write a novel on awkward moments, this past weekend was a gem. Because I am a creep, and an asshole I constantly set myself up for uncomfortable situations.

Saturday Morning

I was driving around my hometown with the windows down, taking in the salt. Sometimes it's nice to drive with no sound but the window breaking the flow of air. I pull up to a red light and the heat quickly catches up with me, then my phone rings. I look to the screen to see the name 'Kelly Blansett', someone I hadn't seen since high school. With an overacted look of disgust on my face I yell, "ew, ugly bitch" and throw my phone into the passenger seat. Over the near silence of stagnant wind I begin to hear a light whimper. I slowly turn to my left to see a girl crying in a Honda...with a phone to her ear...its Kelly. "I was just kidding Kelly," I yell to her. "I saw you coming up behind me I knew you were there, don't cry." The light turns green and she peels away, I yell once more and wave as I take a right onto Broward Blvd. It only took a few moments for the guilt to wash away.

Saturday Night

I had cybersex.

Early Sunday Morning

I flirted with a 16 year old on Twitter. At the time, I was unaware of her age. Did I feel disgusted...no.

Sunday Afternoon

I was at a friend's BBQ, eating leftover ribs from the 4th. This is where I finally meet the parents of my good friend Karsten and I remember how he told me his mother was a dairy farmer her whole life, or until she met his father. "So Karsten told me you were a dairy farmer for a while eh?" I asked. She confirmed and noted how strong her hands were from years of milking. Without thinking I erupted with..."Wow I can only imagine the hand jobs!" Silence came over the party, you would have thought a child was drowning, every conversation stopped and the collection of gasps could have rid this planet of air. In attempt to lighten the situation, I elbow his father, "come on, you know what I'm saying right?" No reply. Like a raccoon backed into a corner I decided to explode and run away. "Fuck you all!" I exclaimed as I chugged my remaining Natty and exited the scene. I later fantasized to the varying best possible scenarios that could have stemmed from this, for example, a demonstration. 

I am dark, I am twisted, I know this.

At 16, I was a bitch.

When I was 16 years old I had a romantic relationship with a 33 year old single mom, she later raped me but that's not the point of this post. I found this country song I wrote for her while I was waiting for her to work on my knee. You see she was a physical therapist and I was a football player, it's a good ol' American love story.

When I sang it to her she slapped me, and I cried with her, but neither of us understood what we ere crying over so she slapped me again. I cried harder because this time I knew why I was crying, the second slap had hurt much worse than the first one. Anyway, here is the country song.

I wish I could compose like you.

Every breath is a symphony.

Every breath you give to me.

I wish I could breathe like you.

Every blink I long for you.

Hoping you'll reopen soon.

Life's so dark without your eyes

Flooding my existence with light.

Every time you laugh

You add a year to my life.

Every time you smile

You add a year to my life.

Every time you speak my name

You add a year to my life.

I can't wait to die old with you

At the age of 6005.

The End