Why I’m Single?

I found this some where out there on that world wide internet thingy. I think it might explain why I jack off all the time, er, I mean why I'm single.

Q. My boyfriend and I have been dating for three months. I have noticed that he does not use a washcloth when he showers. When he stays the night and takes a shower in the morning, I give him a washcloth, but after he’s dressed I notice he has not used the washcloth. As a result, I think he does not wash his backside very well and I smell him. When he sits on the couch an odor is left behind, and as he stands I catch a strong whiff. How do I tell a grown man to wash his backside?

A. I am not sure the washcloth is the issue. There are many ways of washing well, washcloth or no washcloth. Your boyfriend could start using a washcloth and it might not change a thing.

People have definite ideas about the way one should clean one’s self. It is often something they grew up with and they assume everybody else does it — or should do it — the same way.

In the coming together of couples, many find that their partner’s hygiene rituals are peculiar or even off-putting.

But here, the issue is more that you are smelling an offensive odor. People have great differences in the sensitivity of their noses. Some prefer for their partners to be nearly aseptic, while others don’t care, or even notice, if their partner smells ripe. Also, some people quite like smelling their own body odor.

As you know, olfaction is a huge factor in attraction. It is helpful, and even necessary, to like your partner’s smell.

Then again, your situation sounds extreme. You are talking about more than body odor. It may be that your boyfriend is truly unaware of his bad hygiene habits. It’s hard to be attracted to someone who is unhygienic and who even has fecal material on him.

I don’t know what the truth is — whether you are especially fastidious or he is truly smelly. But, in terms of making this relationship work, that doesn’t matter. You must address this. Otherwise, you will become increasingly repelled, he will feel increasingly rejected and that will be the end of that.

This topic is tough, but a resolution is necessary. If this persists as an issue for you, you will be put off and won’t last as a couple. Nor will you succeed as a couple if you can’t talk about difficult things.

Dr. Gail’s Bottom Line: An indelicate hygiene problem with one’s partner will cause a breakup if it is left unaddressed.

Happy Early Valentine's Day

If you're lonely, I'll do you. Doesn't matter if I'll have to travel, I'll do you. Well.

Sex After Marriage?

I was informed today that I don't know much about marriage. And why would I? I certainly never plan on getting married, actually probably one of the last things on the agenda. So I guess I was in error when I made the assumption that married people don't have sex. For some reason I thought marriage was to sex what liver failure is to drinking.

FA's wife still hasn't refuted the claim about his small member. Maybe there's nothing to refute?

Financial Advisor Text Messages

Oh, and I did not edit any of this in any way.

FA:

Bench Results:

Warm up (135)
185x10
205x6
220x3
235x1

Am I ready to hang with "B to the..."?

B to the...

Why do you try to embarrass yourself?

FA:

Sad thing is that I think these above normal results are due to:

1.) Extra 10-15 pds on my frame that I didn't have when I was benching more 5 yrs ago.

And...

2.) Aggression from not getting laid! Wife and I both passed out (tired+drinking) l.nite b4 I got any and was going to try this morn when baby monitor went off!


So, the old saying that marriage kills your sex life may or may not be completely true. My opinion, based on the FA's input, is that booze, kids, and a small penis is what really kills your sex life.

Poor FA's wife.

What, No B-Ball?

Wednesday, Jan 28, and there aren't any basketball games on ESPN or ESPN2 after 8:30 Central time. God my penis is going to get a workout tonight.

One Week Later...

I guess they had some big to-do in Washington last week. Bigger than usual. Word on the street is they officially gave some new guy the keys to the White House. I don’t see what all the fuss is about. Unless you’re totally for that whole Socialism/Communism thing. Oh yeah, joy, joy.

In other news…

I really haven’t had that much to post about lately. Not a whole lot has happened in the past week. I’ve heard other people complain about cold weather. “It’s brutally cold here. There’s a chill in the air. The temperature is supposed to drop to 12 degrees.” There have been days where the bank outside my window hasn’t gone above -9. The little puppy has learned to poop with only two feet on the ground and also on the fly as she heads for the front door. Pretty comical.

Speaking of the puppy, she slept with me till 2:00 pm on MLK Day. Sweet little stinky puppy. I’m scared to give her a bath. She hates them and usually pees on something afterwards. Right in front of me while she’s giving me this, “You do that, I’ll do this” look. Such a darling.

I watched a guy and his wife buy a $1.5 million house in some foreign country. 8,000 square feet, brand new, swimming pool, spiral staircase, right on the beach. They were worried about noise as other homes were going up on either side of them. I’d have 1.5 million other reasons to worry.

The producers caught up with them two months after they moved in. The guy said he almost feels guilty getting up in the morning, having a cup of coffee, and taking his phone and laptop out by the pool to work. I wouldn’t feel guilty kicking him in the head.

Which reminds me, gotta buy a Powerball ticket on Wednesday.

I won $100 at the casino only to be dragged back to the tables by a friend where I proceeded to lose $800. Gee, thanks. And I was all set to leave with my hundo.

I started lifting weights in the basement again. I don’t know if it will work out or not, still in the testing phase. I’m trying Tuesday, Friday, and Sunday, whole body workouts (with happy endings even). I think it would work better if I had a bench that didn’t incline and had dumbbells larger than 70 lbs. The typical home gym bench that inclines usually has a little flex to it. Ok if you’re putting up 135 lbs on the bench, not good with 245 lbs over your chest. And there are actually quite a few exercises where I could utilize 90 pounders. We’ll see how it goes.

I recently bought a new phone (first in over two years) that allows you to download and play music on it. Normally I’m not really a music guy. Sure, I’ll have the radio on all day at work but it’s not like I have 20 CDs in my car. But now that I can play songs pretty much wherever and whenever I want, well, let’s just say it’s pretty freaking cool. I plug it into my Cambridge Soundworks speakers with the tweeters and the sub and rock out (with my cock out!) all day long at work. The only bad thing is I haven’t quite figured out how to get all the Rolling Stones songs into a Rolling Stones folder but I’m sure if I play with it I’ll figure it out. But then again I said the same thing about the female genital region six years ago and I’m still at square one.

My phone also plays porn vids. I haven’t downloaded porn to a computer in five years for fear of viruses. I spent two hours on MLK Day downloading porn. I tossed in a couple ethnically appropriate ones in honor of the day. Yeah, I love my phone. In more ways than one.

Blog Readers Convene, Agree Blog Kicks Ass!

Two weeks ago we held the first blog readers get-together and it was a rousing success!  At the meeting we discussed what could be improved on the site as far as the layout is concerned.  We also discussed the blog content and by a 24-0 vote Article #1 was passed: need more booze to be more funny!  I've been working pretty hard at that lately.  And finally, and most importantly, the blog was voted "Most Kick Ass" of all corner bar blogs.  I was quite honored by that one.  Thanks to all who attended.

 

I was sitting at the bar playing dice with the Renter and the old roommate.  I saw a girl on the other end of the bar lean over to place her order and I recognized her immediately.  "Is that B to the…?"  I used to work with her back at the movie theater in 1995.  She was with another girl who worked there too.  Small world.

 

I don't know how but they happened to stumble upon the blog at some point.  Maybe the FA sent them a link or something, I'm not sure.  Anyway, after I finished the dice game I went over to their table to chat.  A couple bits of stories that we shared:

 

"Remember when you were dancing like a spaz and broke the glass door to the FA's entertainment center?"

 

"Wasn't that when you were going out with that girl and I was making out with you at the FA's New Year's Eve party?"

 

"You helped me wrap Christmas presents and you wouldn't sleep with me because you didn't shave your legs that day."

 

"I laughed when you showed me your penis at first but I cried later."

 

"You showed it to me, too."

 

"You sold me that car and the steering wheel fell off in my hands when I drove it home.  Oh, and you wouldn't pay to get it fixed."

 

"I still live at home with my parents."

 

"What was that girl's name again?"  (H.R., like I'd really forget that one)

 

"You haven't changed at all."

 

"Remember when that old guy thought you were a young boy?"

 

"I went to his bar and asked if Harry was working."  (Mr. Sweater Vest himself)  "He looked at me a little weird and I asked if the owner was around and his face got bright red.  It was a little awkward for a minute there."

 

"Did you really fill up that woman's gas tank for sex?"

 

"I think it would be easier to make a list of people who hadn't seen your penis there."

 

"Do you come here often?"

 

"Every mother fucking day."

---

Hotmail® goes where you go. On a PC, on the Web, on your phone. See how.

Snow Blowing

Shit sucks here. Supposed to be -15 tomorrow. Renter isn't talking to me. Had to hop in my Jeep from the passenger side today, with a suit on. I'm 6'5, 230 lbs, jumping over a stick shift ain't that fun. Hope NY gets that. Sorry, Swandad.

Sad that I had to unwrap the "Beautiful Girls" CD the Renter got me last Christmas. Should have opened it before now. Timothy Hutton is great. Skinky Walmack is my best bud. He's got apps. His lingo, not mine.

Peace for now. Having troubles typing. Loaded.

Tee’d Up

Friday I went to the casino with the Renter and ended up running into the old roommate. I had just gotten done fighting with the dealers for four hours (up $200) when he walked up behind me and tapped my shoulder. He was there with a friend from work and they were wrapping up their stay there. I went and cashed in my chips and found the group back in a corner hitting up a slot machine. I really don’t like slot machines but I figured I might as well play one if I’m going to be waiting around. I stuck a $5 in some slot called “Cat’s Meow,” found a button that looked like a bet denomination and hit the spin button. I must have hit something on the first spin because it gave me this touch screen where I had to pick different items at random – I truly had no idea what I was doing. After about five touch screens it went back to the tumbler screen and it showed that I had $100 in credits. $100! One spin! I cashed out quicker than Gene Upshaw.

After getting home at 6:30 in the morning on Saturday and the puppy allowing me to sleep for only five hours I knew I wasn’t going to make it too long on Saturday. Sure, I probably could have taken a nap sometime during the day but I didn’t want to be up all night, either. So, what to do? That’s right, go up to the bar because there’s football on TV! By 6:00 pm even I could notice my words weren’t coming out quite right. I got a call from the Renter. “Where are you?” “Burp, at the bar.” “But what about hanging out with my coworkers? I’m sure they want to go out someplace before going to the bar.” Yeah, they might have wanted to go someplace else, didn’t mean that I wanted to. I went home at 7:30, just as the Renter was leaving. Later that night I got a couple text messages. “[Blank] says he is drunk but he will kick ur ass the next time he plays u in pool.” And, “He said that he will deny it if he loses to u tho…” I rolled over and went back to bed.

Sunday morning I got a call from the Polak. He was looking to meet up for the games and I suggested the corner bar (where else, right?). Since I had gotten a good night’s sleep I was ready for some more beer. Also, my weekly schedule has been a little off since the Packers season ended so a start time of noon meant for another awesome night of sleep. Sweet! Around 4:00 I suggested that he and I go back to my house for a little while and grab a frozen pizza. I asked him to wait five minutes after I left so I could take the puppy outside so she wouldn’t get all excited and pee when he got there. I didn’t know what was waiting for me on the home front.

Apparently the Renter was mad at me for something. As soon as I got in the door she tee’d up and swung for the green. I don’t know if it was because I went home early on Saturday or because I had been at the bar since noon on Sunday or what, but good golly she was irate. I mean, I had hardly even seen her since Saturday morning, what could I have done to warrant anything? The Polak came over and she yelled at him and sent him home. I caught hell for a good hour until my Chinese arrived. After that I went back up to the bar. You can only get screamed and yelled at for so long.

I'll save the Friday "family" dinner for another post.

Charles Barkley Gives World’s Greatest Blow Job!

I’m sure you’ve all heard that Sir Charles was arrested in Arizona last week on a DUI bust, but did you all know that he has mastered the art of the blow job? Yep, you heard it here first! When the officer asked him where he was going, Charles responded: “You want the truth? I was gonna drive around the corner and give a blow job.” Apparently he did one a week earlier and it was the best one he had ever given in his life.

Wait up, maybe he was getting the blow job instead of giving it. I’m not sure, I’m a little intoxicated myself.

Speaking of which, what happens when you’re intoxicated and you walk out of an establishment with your head turned to the side talking to the guy behind you? If you have my luck, you completely miss all but one of the five steps going down to the side walk and severely sprain your ankle. The whole outside of my foot is black and blue with some coloration stretching all the way to my toes. I’m actually fairly fortunate I didn’t smack my head on the sidewalk. Somehow I managed to land on my shoulder with my head stopping mere inches from the ground.

Some people need a designated driver. I need a designated walker.

What I Did in the Wisconsin Dells

I slept from 11:00 pm to 11:00 am every day.

I drank from 11:00 am to 11:00 pm every day. (Seriously, don’t ask me how, but unless I was in the car I had a beer in my hand the whole time.)

I drank nothing but beer during the day and water at 3:00 in the morning.

I played a shit load of pool and Golden Tee.

I ate a shit load of chicken wings and pizza.

I farted a lot (my body doesn’t do well with cheese).

I puked because I ate too much pizza too quickly. (You know, when you’re drunk and you’re making the “arr, ummm, arr” noises as you wolf down whatever you’re eating.)

I finished the last slice after puking.

After swimming at a different hotel I informed my front desk clerk that I wasn’t wearing any underwear. (She was on the phone so I had to whisper it.)

Said different hotel, when they looked at my wristband, informed me that only guests of the hotel were allowed to get towels. There I was, dripping wet, its 20 degrees outside and this bitch with a Russian accent tells me I can’t have a towel. So I reached across the counter, grabbed a towel and told her, “You better call security then.” No, the Russian chick was pretty hot and her accent made my loins tingle so I just walked away and grabbed someone else’s towel. But still, fucked up.

Same said hotel boasted a new sports bar which consisted of two TVs and a 10 foot long bar with a bunch of rainbow colored containers along the back wall (for making slushies for the kids in the attached game room). Some sports bar.

I ate at 2:30 and 11:00 every day.

I went to IHOP, one of the most hated establishments from my childhood.

I spent an inappropriate amount of time in a bowling alley without touching a bowling ball.

Beer wasn’t cheap there. Pitchers were going for $8-$9. I walked into one place at the beginning of the 4th quarter of the Badgers game and they had $1 tappers till the end of the game. I had seven by the time the game was over. After the first two the bartender had a fresh one ready before I was finished with the one in hand. I then switched to (cheap beer I don’t remember the name of) because pitchers of those were only $6. I woke up without any pubic hair. Not making this up.

My hotel room had five channels of ESPN. FIVE!

I made it home in one piece, without walking home.

Although something under my ribcage is paining me. Could that be the liver?

Getting Out Of Dodge

Holidays blow. With the parents getting divorced and the prospect of having two family get togethers, well, I'm just not up for it. I got an email from dad asking me to go over to his place on Friday at 3:00. I never replied. Instead I booked a hotel room for myself in the Wisconsin Dells. $60 a night is well worth it to get away. There you can find me sitting by the indoor water park sipping margaritas imagining I am in Mexico. Merry Fucking Christmas everybody.

(Funny thing is, I think I actually have to drive through Dodge County to get to the Dells.)

Snow Day

With more than 12" dumped on us this morning, I find myself stuck at home without a shot glass for the Southern Comfort. Without regulation, looks like yours truly will get fucked up twice today.

$1G and 50L

The weekend started out tame enough. Friday at the corner bar was pretty quiet (from what I remember). I had five pitchers and four shots (two Southern Comfort, two Dr.s). I woke up Saturday morning with a horrible pain in my neck that I reasoned was half from the booze and half from doing upright rows at the gym on Friday. I had a list of things to do but I just couldn’t get anything going till around 3:30 that afternoon. The puppy and I just sat around watching TV (that new show Leverage).

The Renter had a work party at the Hilton and I wanted to leave at 5:00 to take full advantage of the open bar from 5:30-7:00. At 3:30 I finally got up, took a healthy dump, and hopped in the shower. I needed a haircut so I made my way down to the $5 haircut place ($10 after tip) and was in and out within 15 minutes. I stopped at the liquor store on the way back home and picked up some Southern Comfort to put in my six ounce flask I planned on taking to the party. Got dressed, suit without a tie, and was ready by 4:45.

The Renter was still running around in nothing but a towel.

I made myself a good three ounce shot of Southern Comfort and Coke and took the puppy outside. 5:00 came around and I made myself another drink. The Renter finally got done around 5:15/5:20 and we were out the door.

Amazingly we got downtown right at 5:30 but we still had to park. 5:45 and I was two fisting it with more Southern Comfort. I did look around to see if anyone else had two drinks but nope, I was the only one. I’ll admit it made greeting people a little awkward and both my hands got pretty cold but hey, I had two drinks readily available. After a couple trips down to the bar for a cigarette (some 40 steps to navigate on a bad knee), I began to realize that if I continued downing Southern Comfort at break neck speed I would indeed break my neck – or hopefully land on that fat chick at the bottom of the stairs (and there were many rather large women in attendance). The next time I got in line for beverages I got one Southern Comfort and Coke and one Heineken. I haven’t had Heineken in years since they’re kind of bitter and a bit on the expensive side, but after all that Southern Comfort this one tasted like honey. I got two more before I was finished with the first one. By the time the cut off came I had a Southern Comfort and three Heineken’s in front of me on the dinner table. That and with two glasses of wine, well, there wasn’t much room for a plate.

The salad came shortly after 7:00 with the steak arriving at 7:30. By this time I was good and drunk. And hungry. Very hungry. While everyone else was eating and chatting, I could be found stuffing my mouth with steak, potatoes, and maybe even a finger or two. I was lucky they didn’t have steak knives on the table.

I’m not much of a dessert guy so I took off for the bar leaving some lame excuse like “the game was on” when I really didn’t have any idea who was playing. I spent a good half hour in the Miller Time Pub by myself, downing beers with reckless abandon. Eventually people started to filter in from the party. Pictures were taken, stories were told, fun was had by all. I played a couple games of pool and was right on the verge of not being able to see straight. We went back up to the party since they had some casino games and fake money. I sat down at a blackjack table. Now I know it was fake money and all but mother fucker did I get irate inside when these women who obviously had never played the game before were hitting when the dealer was showing a six. A SIX!!! Even the Renter knows not to hit in that situation. You could probably guess what happened next.

Twenty minutes later we were at the real casino. I had $1,000 and gave the Renter $500 to play with. After some ups and downs we walked out with $2,000. I gave the Renter $100 for helping me win and we headed home to the corner bar. (Why she doesn’t have to pay when we lose is beyond me.)

The corner bar was packed with crazy karaoke people. There were a few regulars in attendance who took double takes when they saw me in a suit. I got a text message from a friend who was sitting down the bar, “Did you have your funeral to attend?” Ha, ha, Powder, very funny. There wasn’t an open seat and I was having a little problem standing so we left, grabbed some breakfast, and I passed out.

Sunday the Packers got their asses handed to them by the Jacksonville Jaguars. Nuff said.

After the game the Renter and I went shopping. I can only go shopping after drinking. Sure, I might buy some stupid shit that I don’t need but shopping is much less painful under the influence. The first stop was JC Penny’s. Saturday at the work party I noticed that my three year old suit was getting a bit tight in the back, shoulders, and arms. I found a nice dark blue/black pinstriped suit in my size (50L) and tried it on. The shoulders and arms fit much better than my old suit. 20 minutes later I had a shirt and tie to match and the salesman taking measurements (1.5” tuck in both the sides). The grand total after alterations: $180. Suit, shirt and tie for under $200. The Renter actually came up with a good idea for once (doesn’t happen that often) and since the prices were so good I walked out with a nice green suit, too. Two suits, two ties, and two shirts for $360.

(Side note: after I win at the casino I need to go shopping or I’ll give it right back to them and be left with nothing but a foot up my ass.)

After JC Penny’s I got the Renter to stop at a strip mall bar on the way to Wal-Mart. I had two pints of some red ale before opting for a pitcher of Miller Lite. To my surprise the bartender came back with this huge glass pitcher that weighed a ton. It was quite the deal at $7.50 but I was nervous as hell every time I went to fill the glass for fear of dropping the big pitcher. I ordered some chicken wings that were almost too spicy to eat while the Giants/Cowboys game was on. I got to “enjoy” those chicken wings again Monday morning. Ouchies.

Somehow I managed to drop $170 at Wal-Mart. The Renter said I was just grabbing shit off the shelves and tossing it in the cart. Pizzas, plastic silverware, paper plates, laundry detergent, shampoo, toothpaste, cleaning supplies, and of course some puppy toys; you name it and it was in the cart.

I had another pitcher at the bar to top off the night. I played a couple of the “for amusement only” slot machines and broke even. The Cowboys win put me back ahead for the day as far as football games go (Atlanta – push, Arizona – loss, Pittsburgh – win, Dallas – win). Let’s just hope the Browns and Eagles can put up a bunch of points tonight.

Recap: work parties are awesome when they both supply free booze and aren’t sponsored by your work. I had no problem getting extremely drunk in front of 150 or so people that I didn’t know.

Day Without a Gay

The FA forgot about skipping work today and showed up as usual. Way to show that pride, buddy.

Stairs

Seriously considering not going to the gym today because its one flight down tn the locker room, two flights up to the weight room, and all that over again when I'm done. 31 years old and I have to use my penis for a kane.

Chadwick's - So Disappointing

I flipped through the Renter's Chadwick's catalogue that came in the mail. I was surprised by all the women they had in there. I mean, they were all freaking hot! But as I kept flipping through it I was growing increasingly agitated. Every page that I turned, I figured the bra and panty spread would be next. To my displease that section never came. What, no bras or panties? What the fuck?! I'll admit, I even went on their website to see if they sold the goods on there and again, underwear was no where to be found.

Chadwick's, I'm quite disappointed.

Yahoo! Personals One-liner

"My best feature is my beautiful blue eyes. That is the best thing I have going for me."

Huh? If that’s the best thing you’ve got going for you, hell, you must be homeless and only have three limbs. Sure, I could see someone from Zimbabwe writing that because saying “I live in a straw hut with my mom and eight siblings and like my worms crispy” really isn’t much of a turn on. In that case, sure, your beautiful blue eyes might actually be the best thing going for you if only because all your brothers and sisters have brown eyes.

Seriously, ladies, if you want to attract the guys all you have to do is include the words “suck” and “anal” and “swallow” and “fuk” in your personals ad. Make sure you misspell “fuck” or the bad word finder will reject it. Oh, and if for some reason “anal” gets rejected too, just use “back door” or “rear entry” instead.

God, people should be paying me for this advice.

(No people from Zimbabwe were injured during the creation of this post.)

Blow Me

It started to snow on Sunday while I was watching the Packers play. Not a whole lot – it wasn’t accumulating – but enough to make the average homeowner concerned.

I woke up on Monday morning with a good four inches of snow covering everything. It was high enough that Puppy’s vag was in the snow when she went to pee. Good thing I went out last Tuesday and bought this:


6 hp and 24 inches of snow throwing testosterone! For some reason I decided to rearrange the garage on Saturday to get easier access to it with my car in the garage and filled it up with gas to see exactly how it operated. One pull and the sucker fired right up! So there I was Monday morning blowing snow everywhere with a big’ol smile on my face as I got to play with my new toy. And it worked like a fucking charm. I actually had to be careful when I was doing the sidewalks as it shot snow well out into the street at passing cars. What would have taken me 45 minutes to an hour took me only 15 minutes. I think I’m pretty much set for the oncoming season.

(As a side note, I don’t know if I ever put this on here before, but my grandfather died of a heart attack while he was shoveling snow. Not to be funny or anything, but the ironic part was his three kids had bought him a snow blower for Christmas just months before. He just didn’t want to use it. Folks, that ain’t gonna be me.)

The FA bought one a month or two back also. Same brand but he got the 30” with the 11 hp engine. What the fuck, doesn’t he care about the environment with the emissions coming from that beast? You know how California has all those strict emission laws. You can’t buy his snow blower if you live in California (not that you’d actually need one, but I’m just saying). What ever happened to going “green”? There you have it; the FA doesn’t give a shit about the environment. Dickwad.

Plax’s Ass is Grass

Uh, did anyone catch that Michael Vick fiasco last year? Yeah, well, Plaxico Burress is facing a minimum of 3.5 years in prison for his lastest gaffe. Stupid mother fucker took a loaded handgun into a Manhattan club and shot himself in the thigh. He said he had the gun because he was “all blinged out” and had a lot of cash on him. When will these guys learn? Oh well, just another foreclosed home in Jersey on the cheap.