Lovely Panties

Roared on Jul 2nd, 2010 12:58am in Miscellaneous and has 0 comments.

This site is just too amazing: Lovely Panties.

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Here's What Went Wrong

Roared on Feb 10th, 2010 3:56pm in Miscellaneous and has 9 comments.

Dear Jessica,
You kissed me while we were on the Kindergarten jungle gym. You got held back another year and we never spoke again. When I'd see you in middle school, I'd wonder if you remembered my first kiss too.

Dear Kasey,
My whole group of friends had a crush on you from the first time we met you in second grade. You never seemed to notice how much everyone liked you. That made us like you more. My crush didn't fade until I realized you were the biggest bitch in our 8th grade class.

Dear Holly,
You were my neighbor and my best friend's older sister. It would have been fun keeping that a secret from everyone, if you'd have given me the chance.

Dear Molly,
No, I will still not make out with you. Calling me a "super loser" in front of the entire 5th grade class didn't make me want you either.

Dear Emily,
You were my first "girlfriend". Rumors were that you only dated guys for 40 days. I broke your streak and you dated me for 42 days. I felt special. But then apparently you were hospitalized and put on some crazy pills in high school.

Dear Jenny F,
We never dated, but I always wanted to. You were my best friend and knew every one of my deep, dark, and twisted secrets. I guess that's why you stopped speaking to me after we left for college.

Dear Katie,
You bored me to death. I was 15 and didn't understand what it meant to "talk on the phone". Also I wanted your best friend and she wanted me, even though you had some nice gazangas for a high school freshman.

Dear Shay (Katie's best friend),
You and I both bounced on and off the market at different times, but still found time for each other. We'd hang out, go to dinner, talk about dating each other, but it just never happened. You're married now and have a beautiful daughter. To this day, I regret risking it and just making a move.

Dear Laura,
I caused a rift between you and your best friend. I still think it's pretty funny that the two of you fought over me. You were the first girl I fooled around with. I'll never forget that foul stench eminating from your very hairy bush.

Dear Jenny S,
We dated twice, even if you say the first time didn't count. My first real long-term girlfriend. After we broke up the second time, my mom told me, "Good riddance, she was a brat." Turns out she was right.

Dear Ashley T,
You and your identical twin sister each had only half a personality. I still believe the only reason we broke up was because your sister broke up with her boyfriend and you didn't want her to be the only one single.

Dear Christine Z,
It would have been nice, if you'd told me (before our third date) that you were a lesbian. Why did you say yes when I asked, "Can I take you out on a date?". Curiosity is not an acceptable response.

Dear April,
You wouldn't let me in your house for fear that your dad would shoot me. That was actually pretty awesome.

Dear Danielle H,
I didn't even know your name when you asked me if you could sign my yearbook. You left your number but not your name. That should have been a clue to me to not even go for it, but I was just as young and dumb as you.

Dear Meg,
I never gave up hope that you'd feel the same way. Until you led me on for the… 5th time in 5 years.

Dear Stacy,
No, I will not go to church with you. I said that once and that should have been the end of it. That time you tried to trick me into going by saying we were going to go out on a date was just not cool. Can I have that hour of my life back?

Dear Kat,
You were crazy—and not in any sort of good way. Why didn't I listen to Ian when he said, "Oh, that's Kat. Stay away from her; she's crazy."

Dear Stephanie,
I pretty much associate you with lies. Did you tell me anything that was true?

Dear Danielle A,
It would have if it weren't for your boyfriend who was my best friend.

Dear Christina M,
I don't think either of us ever actually liked each other. Also, you were a crazy hippie chick—At least you shaved your armpits though. It's been 8 years. STOP CALLING ME.

Dear Kelly,
Every single one of my friends made fun of me for dating you. Other than you being slightly awkward and a little immature, I still don't understand why. Oh wait, was it because you were super awkward and immature?

Dear Heather,
I put so much effort into helping you become the person you wanted to be. You're 26 now, and all you've got is your part time job at the grocery store. Also, my mother hated you—for good reason—and she doesn't even know that you were cheating on me.

Dear Angie,
It was too much too soon for me, after Heather. I told you that. You wouldn't listen. You wanted more than I could give you. Also you were a super-serious baptist with nasty teeth.

Dear Doni,
Lust is a powerful thing. Being drunken horny college kids didn't help.

Dear Laurel,
You led me on. Plain and simple. Remember when you were going to leave your boyfriend for me, but then waited till you went abroad and dumped him for some rich Spaniard? Classic.

Dear Lauren,
You were a in a sorority and your "sisters" never let you stay out past 10pm. That was really weird. I thought "sororawhores" got that nickname for a reason.

Dear Ashley K,
My friends all wanted me to dump you because they couldn't stand you. When you finally dumped me, they all decided to be better friends with you than me. I still believe you were cheating on me.

Dear Alex,
You shot me down, but then tried to tell me you were pregnant when I moved on. Need I say more?

Dear Amy,
You broke up with me because you didn't want it getting serious before you moved to Chicago. You never moved to Chicago. You're still less than 30 minutes away from me; you moved in with your ex a month after breaking up with me.

Dear Kat (again),
Four years later and you were still seriously crazy—and I mean 100% bat-shit-insane-crazy. You really need serious help. If only I'd have recognized that before dating you for the second time. PS: My parents still think you were perfect and ask when we're getting back together. I never told them that you cheated on me.

Dear Alyson,
Your apartment was full of books. I haven't cracked the spine on a book since 6th grade. It clearly wasn't going to work. Also, you smelled funny—like old books.

Dear Ellie,
You led me on and eventually dated the person you told me you weren't interested in. After that, I found out that you told a bunch of our coworkers that we were fooling around. We hugged once.

Dear Christina,
I was single for a year and needed to get myself back into dating. You invited me to your house warming party without mentioning the attendee list was your parents and family friends after our second date. Thankfully I didn't show up pants-less. Actually, now I kind of wish I had. But then again, you had a giant mom-bush. That thing needed a weed-whacker. Also, was every day laundry day?

Dear Valerie,
You wanted me to be someone else. I am who I am. Deal with it. I told you to break up with me.

Dear Nicole,
I don't know if I'll ever find love like we had again. To this day, I'm still not sure what went wrong. I did everything I could to make things work, but one day, out of the blue, you up and left me.

Dear Piercings Girl (I seriously don't remember your name),
I wasn't ready to date. I forewarned you as a way of being honest and up front before you could get strong feelings. I thought I was being nice. Apparently being nice gets you to flip out and yell at me and call me an asshole.

Dear Art Teacher Girl (Wow, I'm an asshole, another name I don't remember),
Both of us said we didn't want to be in a relationship. You lied and then got in a serious relationship with some other dude. That's actually totally fine by me. But I did like when I told you that if you'd come over, I'd be naked. You did. And I was.

Dear Next In Line Girl,
Let's face it: you're a big heaping bowl of crazy. For some reason I'm into that sort of thing. Bring it on.

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Note To Self #1

Roared on Oct 20th, 2009 1:24pm in Miscellaneous and has 0 comments.

Note to self: Stay away from crazy bitches.

While I think that's pretty self-explanatory, I suppose that, for the sake of blogging, I should be more specific.

It's been said before, but I think it should be reiterated every now and then to remind us men about the facts of life: “Bitches be trippin'.”

No really. I challenge you to point out a girl that isn't at least one breed of complete crazy.

Seriously, challenge go.

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The Old Ball & Chain and Puking on Wedding Cards

Roared on Sep 1st, 2009 10:51pm in Doodles and has 0 comments.

My oldest brother is getting married this weekend. Unfortunately, I think that this doodle from 2006 is the only thing close enough to the subject of marriage that I have in my arsenal.

I went to Target today to pick out a card today to go with the gift that I got my oldest brother and soon-to-be-sister-in-law. As I started to peruse the cards in the Hallmark section (is there any other card brand, or am I just ignorant?), I started to feel a lump in my throat. Not the kind of lump that makes a guy want to choke up and not be manly anymore… no—more like the kind that makes you want to barf all over every one of the cards in front of you.

Every card I saw for weddings made me want to ralf up whatever I could find in my system. I would have even settled for dry heaving stomach acid. At least it would have been more tasteful than the utter shit that was already spewn out in word form on these over-priced pieces of paper.

Why the fuck didn't Target have any plain, blank, empty cards? I had to settle for one that said, "Joined in Love" on the front with nothing inside. It's definitely the card with the least barf on it in the entire store.

But, now I have a major problem: what the fuck do I write in this? I'm leaning toward the first thing that comes to mind:

Hi, you're married now. I picked out the card that least made me want to shove my finger down my throat and violently throw up the contents of my stomach. I hope you appreciate the shit I had to read through in order to pick out this piece of paper that you won't remember three minutes from now. You're welcome.

PS: I'm sorry for being ridiculously drunk at the dinner after the ceremony (I'm planning ahead here, beer with me).

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Them's My Nuts

Roared on Aug 18th, 2009 9:45am in Bar Scene and has 8 comments.

Seriously, I’m not complaining; I’m just letting you know: girls’ hands just gravitate toward my nuts. I try to explain this to friends that when we go to the bar, it’s likely some random might try to touch my crotch. I don't blame them for not believing me, though. I wouldn’t believe me, except that it’s happened multiple times.

A few weeks ago I was explaining it to some friends and they just laugh, “Paul’s telling stories again, just ignore him.” No more than a few days later we went out for happy hour. As we were about to leave, my two friends stopped at the bathroom and I was ever-so-rudely interrupted while checking the baseball scores by a girl pleading with me to save her friend from some d-bag that wouldn't stop hitting on her.

As any sane person should, I checked to make sure she wasn’t a womanatee. She was not. So what could I have to lose, right?

“Holy shit! I haven't seen you in almost 3 years! How are you?” I loudly proclaimed my lie as I winked and went in for a friendly hug. She caught on immediately and made up some bullshit about how I was in Chicago for three years and lost contact with her. The d-bag got the hint and instantly retreated with his tail between his legs. Yeah, I’m the fucking alpha male.

My friends decided they actually weren’t ready to leave and started ordering more drinks, so I invited these two ladies over to have a drink with us. So we hung out, standing at the bar, chatting for a bit. As I was saying something to my friends, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a hand slowly reaching toward my junk.

“THEM’S MY NUTS!” I shouted proudly, as she violated my man parts. My friends looked at me in astonishment. Seeing is believe—Girls gravitate to my nuts.

I like when they try to come up with excuses as to why they just groped me. “I thought it was an air bubble in your jeans!”… Right. Jeans don’t get air bubbles. Maybe when you’re sitting they bunch up a little, but definitely not while standing.

Ladies, it’s okay. Seriously, I don’t mind if you want to touch me. Just be honest about it.

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