Hey GMan. I think you’re super hot, but I’m going to pretend like I don’t. Thanks! So, I’m “seeing” this guy. I mean fucking, actually. The sex is ok and he’s pretty boring. He is hot though and has a great body. Anyway, the last time we slept together (fucked), he laughed like a crazy person after he came. Then he said, “That’s all I fuck! Chimps and orangutans!” Then he said, “Hey, I got this coupon for Jack in the Box Munchie Meals. You hungry?” I asked him what the fuck he was talking about and he showed me the YouTube video of Dave Chappelle AND the fucking Jack in the Box Commercial. What should I do?
Maggie, 34 – Highland Park, TX

ALOL HAHAHAHAHAHA! I LOVE THIS GUY! Holy shit, Maggie! I kinda have a boner right now, but unfortunately, it’s a #shameboner. Why is it a #shameboner? I’m not sure. I just feel weird right now. I’m thinking of y’all fucking and I’m not exactly sure who I wanna fuck more.

You should marry this guy! He sounds fucking awesome! I have to admit that I always laugh my ass off right after I fuck a new chick. I’m not sure why; maybe I’m just that excited. Who the fuck knows? And one time, after my buddy and a finished up on this THOT from the club, I started laughing and rapping Nelly’s “Must Be the Money.” What the actual fuck was wrong with me? So yeah, do whatever the fuck you wanna do. You’re a girl so you probably won’t take my advice anyway.
Love you the most,  
GMan

GMan, is it gay to suck my buddy’s dick if we get to have a girl stripper tag-team afterwards?
Jason, 24 – Arlington, TX

What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!?! Of course it’s not gay to suck your buddy’s dick in exchange for fucking two strippers. Seriously, kids today.

You may be surprised to learn that the Legendary GMan found himself in this exact situation a few years back. My friends and I used to go to the titty bar all the time. One night, none of our girls were there and we were kind of bored. We decided to tell chicks we were gay and just trying to see what the big deal was about. Pretty soon this pair of chicks came over. I hate it when chicks come in pairs. Someone always gets guilted into get a lap dance from the more struggling of the two. Kinda like banging the fat friend of a girl your friend wants to bang. You know what I’m saying. But these chicks were Fu King HOT! They asked us what we were doing and we told them about being homos and trying to understand about titties and shit like that. They said that seeing us “get down” would be the hottest thing ever. “I have to go to the bathroom, and I think you do to,” I said, looking at my friend. “Huh?” he said. Then, “Oh! Yeah, I do.” When we got to the bathroom, I said, “I’ll suck your dick if we get to fuck those bitches.” He said, “Dude, I’ll let you fuck me in the ass if we get to fuck those hos!” I said, “Word” and we went back to the table.

At two, the lights came up and it was time to make this non-gay, dick-sicking, stripper-fucking thing happen. They followed us back to our apartment and we cracked open a bottle of Patron we’d been saving for just such an occasion. And then…nothing else happened. We played Trivial Pursuit and didn’t do anything gay at all. It’snotgay!NOTHINGGAYATALLHAPPENED. Nothing happened. I don’t want to talk about it, ok? Seriously. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about it. I’m fine.
GMan, OUT!

Hi GMan, I don’t want my friends to know this, so please change my name. I am fucking obsessed with Meghan Trainor. I love her and her fucking music. My friends would laugh me out of the group if they found out. We listen to what you would probably call “Hipster Douche-Bag” bands. Ones you’ve never heard of who only do internet and festivals. I watch “All About that Bass” constantly when no one is around. I know you don’t listen to this kind of stuff either (besides JT) but is it ok to like her? Does it mean I’m a “Chubby Chaser” if I really want to fuck her? What do I do?
“Lance” 25 – Denton, TX

Jesus Christ, Lance! What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Fuck your friends. Shave your fucking beard, wax your taint, and buy some jeans that don’t cause testicular claustrophobia!

Meghan Trainor is the shit! You’re right. I don’t usually listen to pop music either, but she is fucking magic and I don’t give a fuck! That song is genius. My Fabulous Fiance introduced me to the video a few months ago and the shit made me tingle. I had to keep looking away and talking about the fat, gay fellow so she didn’t notice my bourgeoning infatuation. Then Meghan kicked her foot and slapped her heel, and I said, “Fuck Jessica Biel. This chick is my new Celebrity Freebie Fuck!” FF said, “Oh good.” (She sounds just like her mom when she says that and it’s so cute!)

FF had to work the next day, so I put that video on repeat and ogled the living shit out of her for a while. Then research mode kicked in. I found out that is 20. Jesus! In my head, she was 25 or maybe 30. I like to think of chicks I want to fuck in that age-range so as not to be super creepy. Not to mention that she’s talented as fuck for any age. I decided to make an exception on account of her singing most of the backup vocals and writing half the song herself. Then I found out she played football with boys! She’s just so goddamn cute! A few links down on the page I saw this article from The Independent, a UK publication I now hate, called “Meghan Trainor and Nicki Minaj's ‘booty songs’ aren't as body positive as everyone thinks they are.” The author of that shit is a retard. She talks about how the “booty songs” are not positive because they set up a binary of fat chicks and skinny chicks. Stupid ass bitch didn’t even listen to the lyrics! I might say more about this in a future blog. Anyway…

Here’s what I’d do if I got a hold of Meghan Trainor. (All of this would be consensual, of course.) Right when she walks in the door, I hug the fuck out of her, burying my nose in her hair cuz you know that shit smells awesome. Then I stand back and look at her for a minute. She’s wearing a blue/pink dress, tights, and those sexy-ass shoes from the video. Then I hug her again. Then I offer her a diet Coke cuz I’m a fucking gentleman. After that we get to it! I put her video on the big-screen—a version without the lead vocals. She gives me a fully-clothed lap dance and sings the fuck out of that song. After a few hours of that, she takes the dress off, exposing white thigh-highs, garter belt, and her awesome titties. She’s still wearing the shoes from the video. GODAMMMNNNNNNNNN!!! That’s when she tells me I’m allowed to touch her. I imagine Sriracha Twizzlers coming out of her butthole and Original Skittles dropping out of her sweet sweet pussy. (Sriracha flavor because of the razz in her voice and that dirty side that you know she has. Also, she has a magical butthole so the Sriracha Twizzlers don’t hurt her. Candy is obvious.) Then I eat it all the way up to her throat. I mean, I eat ALL OF IT! Like when people ask me how much I used to drink. ALL OF IT! She has about fifty or so orgasms—vaginal, clitoral, and G. Of course, G! I don’t stick my dick in her pussy hole, just because…I’m not sure why. Not worthy? Skittles in the way? Or maybe she can’t take it after all those orgasms.

So yeah, dude. Tell your friends to fuck themselves and rock out with your cock out to all the Meghan Trainor you want. (And no, it doesn’t make you a Chubby Chaser, retard.)
Nom nom slurp!
The Motherfuckin G Man 

Oh Jesus! It took me a sec to see what you were talking about. I was looking on the floor under her turd cutter, then BOOM, I saw that floater in the commode! (By the way, I had to edit the “N-word” since I’m not sure you are one or have your card. Sorry.) That’s a tough one. If I really liked a girl, I could easily deal with a turd in the selfie, and even joke about it later. Actually, my Fabulous Fiance sent me a…just kidding. She didn’t. Anyway, if this chick is just some ho you’re boning, fuck it. Plenty of other bitches out there. Either way, I would suggest taking your own selfie. Make sure there’s a dook in the bowl and a condom and maybe some gummy bears in there. Why gummy bears? Cuz it’s fucking crazy!
GMan 

GMan, is it ok to fuck a dead chicken? I mean, it’s dead, so no one is getting hurt, right?
Calvin, 17 – Durant, OK

What the actual fuck is wrong with you, Calvin? Fuck no, it’s not ok to fuck a chicken, dead or otherwise. Here’s the thing: Yes, no one is getting hurt by you fucking a dead chicken, as long as you’re not serving up some cream-filled fillets to anyone. And obviously, the chicken doesn’t give a fuck because she’s dead. (I hope you’re fucking a girl chicken.) The problem is that dead chicken pussy is the gateway pussy.

Wait a minute! Before I get to the gateway pussy, I have to ask what is the state of the dead chicken? For some reason I was picturing one from the Kroger, white-ish/pink-ish and slimy. If that’s the case, you must have a monster dick to feel anything in that cavity, which may be too big to fuck a live human chick. I guess it’s ok to fuck a chicken in that circumstance. But you might be fucking a chicken with all the feathers and shit on it. Which makes me wonder if you killed the chicken. Jesus! You definitely cannot kill a chicken to fuck it. #FuckingSick. Also it seems way more bestial if the chicken still looks like a chicken. (How the fuck did I get to a place that I’m answering questions about fucking chickens?)  

Wait just a goddamn minute! Are you going raw dawg on these motherfucking chickens? You know you’re going to get the genital salmonella, right? You’re probably thinking, Whatever, dawg, it’s not like I’m eating it. Well, you’re a retard. Dick skin is way thinner than regular skin, so you can get all kinds of diseases by fucking things. Ever notice that no one gets herpes on their elbow? I thought so.

Anyway, gateway pussy. Once you think it’s ok to fuck a dead chicken, you’re probably going to start thinking it’s ok to fuck other dead stuff. Turkeys and Quail and shit like that next. Still not much of a problem…well you know what I mean. Now that you’re used to fucking all sorts of dead birds, you’re going to want to up your game. You’re on the fast track to fuckity fuckity fucked up! You’ll decide to fuck a dead sheep because you heard somewhere that sheep pussy is just like human pussy. I don’t know where the fuck you get a dead sheep, but I’m sure you’ll find a way to get one. Pretty soon, you get bored with the dead sheep pussy. Next thing you know, you’re fucking dead people. DEAD PEOPLE! That’s some sick ass shit, Calvin! DON’T FUCK ANY DEAD SHIT!
GMan, OUT!

GMan, where do wet dreams come from? Why do I never get laid in mine? Is there something actually the fuck wrong with me?
Q-Dawg, 30ish – Boulder, CO

Q, wet dreams come from the Sweet Baby Jesus. Seriously. This is how it happens: He’s just chillin in his manger crib, suckin his mom’s titties, when the “energy” builds to an uncontainable level and shoots out to the good little boys and girls all over the world. Well, not all at once. Unlike Santa, he only has enough “energy” to give about 100k wet dreams a night. Good news is that he does it year round and forever. #Woot!

The reason you never bust a nut in yours is a little more disturbing (and it should be obvious). The Sweet Baby Jesus’s “energy” comes from sucking on his mom’s titties! I know, I know, fucking gross. (I’m not making this shit up—just passing it on.) Since that shit is gross and incestuous, he has to give US the wet dreams instead of busting a nut in His Holy Diapers. But that’s not enough to make it NOT gross. We also can’t have sex in our wet dreams because the sins of the father are delivered upon the son or whatever. Thus if we had sex in our wet dreams, we would be fucking the Virgin Mary. And that shit is just wrong.

One time, I had a wet dream in a room full of 23 (black) dudes who had just gotten out of prison, which makes me think that the Sweet Baby Jesus doesn’t have control of his “energy” or more likely, He hates me. You can imagine the terror of busting a nut in my draws in such a situation, but thank god, everyone slept right through it. I dreamt I was flying, cape and all, while drinking a beer and smoking a joint. Anyway, it totally sucked because I had no more clean draws and had to go commando for my last three days of prison rehab.
Hope that answers your question!
GMan    

Dear Mr. Man, I want to know your thoughts on non-conventional lube. More specifically, Crisco vs. Olive Oil. I personally like the solid Crisco because it’s entertains me to watch it melt on the skin, the white blob becoming clear. I love the way the skin feels after the Crisco melts. Olive oil is ok in a pinch but the skin texture it creates leaves a bit to be desired.
Theodore, 53 – Dallas, TX

Holy Shit! What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!?!? You say “skin” way too much and it makes you sound like a fucking serial killer/rapist. Go turn yourself in RIGHT NOW…unless your question is bullshit, which I think it is. We all know that Crisco has a melting point of 117°F - 119°F (47°C and 48°C) so that shit is not going to melt on any live human pussy skin. If you’re heating up your chicks in a microwave—fucking sick! Never mind.

For all of you out there still reading, I suggest buying some normal-ass lube product that makes your weenie tingle. I personally like Trojan Super Duper Helmet Flash.
Get some help, Theodore!
GMan   

Hey G, I’ve recently started to question my masculinity. I joined a Fantasy Football league. I’ve also started chopping wood and talking about my sex-life more openly. I also bought a grill. I don’t really like doing these things but it seems to be the only way to be manly. Do you have any other manly ideas for me?
Kevin, 28 – Corinth, TX

Kevin, yeah, I have a manly idea for you: STOP DOING ALL THAT SHIT YOU DON’T LIKE! A “real man” doesn’t give a fuck if other people think he’s manly or not; he just does his thing. If you like Broadway musicals and fucked up French films, skip the football and watch that shit instead. If you like dancing, stop chopping wood and dance. If you like watching football, watch the fuck out of football. And stop talking about your sex-life, especially if you’re in a committed relationship. It’s uncouth and it makes you look insecure. There are exceptions, like you and your girl tried some crazy new shit. If you want to tell your buddies about that in a classy way, go for it, discretely. If you just slayed some stripper ass, tell your buddies. That shit is awesome, as long as you sound grateful and not like are the “King of the Pussy.”

In case you’re wondering, gay dudes can be super manly if they do the shit they want to do and don’t give a fuck. A lot of gay dudes are probably manlier than straight dudes, because it takes balls to be gay and it takes balls to be a man.

I will admit that defining oneself as a man in our time is tricky. There no rites of passage besides war and most dudes my age didn’t have a war. And though war may be an obvious way to define yourself as a man, it is not always so clear. Tim O’Brien, author of The Things They Carried, for example, seems to think he would have been more courageous had he NOT gone to Vietnam. He is a great example of the struggle in modern masculinity. He went against his values and went to war. One could argue that he lived up to society’s idea of masculinity by going to war, while at the same time degrading his masculinity by living up to those same expectations. It’s a lose/lose proposition.      

Why the hell do you want to define yourself anyway? For whom? These are the questions you should be asking yourself. It’s a great question and one you need to stop asking if you’re really going to be a man.
Much love, brother,
GMan

Holy Jesus, Ashley, are you really that excited about EVERYTHING?!?!?! #Really? Before we get to Slutty Holiday Wear, let’s talk about your choice in beverages. Pumpkin Spice Latte = lame/disgusting. #QuitIt. Unless you really like that shit, which I doubt. I have been in line behind some hot fucking bitches who instantly became strugglin whores when they ordered the Pumpkin Spice Shit. #IWouldRatherFuckThePumpkin

I personally LOVE the slutty costumes at Halloween. That shit makes me so fucking horny. It’s kinda like the titty bar but in the real world. On the other hand, most of the woman I know, including my Fabulous Fiance, hate that shit. Of course, the women I know don’t drink #PSLs, so I don’t know if they’re a good indicator of what you and your buddies should be wearing. But, chicks are sometimes really shitty to other chicks, so keep that in mind. And as much as I like looking, I sure as shit wouldn’t want FF to wear a slutty-ass outfit. Do you have a boyfriend or are you just looking for a cock with a popped collar? If you’re looking for the latter, you should go full-blown sluttastic! Otherwise, dress like Jane Austin. Fuck it, I don’t know. My dick really doesn’t want to tell you not to go slutty. AAAACCCCKKKKK!!! Fucking melt-down in my brain right now. Ok, if you’re hot, go slut. If you’re not, don’t. 
Don’t be so basic, Ashley (Send pics!)
The G

I can barely believe it; it doesn’t make much sense. Yesterday, I wrote a blog about crazy pictures I saw on Twitter and my reactions to the pictures. More specifically, it was about seeing a thumbnail and clicking to get a more detailed version. The first pic was of a cheerleader pooping during a jump. No nakedness in that one, thank god. The next one was of this black chick taking a naked selfie in the mirror. Looked pretty wild, but also beautiful in its way. The lines were good. A Matisse line drawing wouldn’t be far off. Anyway, it looked so strange that I didn’t even notice that her vagina was out. How do I not notice something like that in a blog about taking a closer look at pictures? Retarded!

I always love it when my site gets banned for pornographic or adult content, though up until yesterday, it was a “Fucks Per Page” issue and had nothing to do with naked people. I like titties and ass as much as the next guy (or girl) but not exposed ones on my website. For some reason I find it inappropriate to post uncovered pussies, nipples, and (sometimes) buttholes. Other people can post that shit all day long. I might even enjoy those nudies from time to time, but I’m not going to put them out there. If I was going to do that, I would have posted pics of the famous naked chicks on my Celebrity Nude Special Edition blog. I wouldn’t even post pics of my own dick and I used to show that bad boy to EVERYONE. The only reason I can think of for my inattention to detail yesterday is the monster anxiety attack I was having. Fucking miracle I got anything done at all.

Two nights ago, I had a freak out about writing, or so I thought. I was worried about whether the writing was ever going to go anywhere. I was worried about how long my streak was going to last. (They always end.) Maybe more importantly, I was worried about how many HR people were NOT giving me jobs because they read the nasty shit I write. That’s fucked up place to be, considering that writing is the dream. I hate that word. I don’t just write about nasty shit, but that’s what’s been coming lately. I do have a very serious story in the works, but that’s neither here nor there. See, I’m defending myself already. Fuck that. I went to sleep with a tightness in my chest—more specifically around my literal heart. I woke up in the middle of the night that way. I woke up in the morning that way. I drove to work that way. Etc, etc. As the day went on, I started to think that my anxiety was not really about writing. Writing was just the “real problem” my sneaky chemical anxiety wrapped itself it. Anxiety always cloaks itself in something real. Asshole anxiety.

I was going through all the pain-in-the-ass shit it takes to post a blog—the editing, the links on FB, Twitter, getting the pictures right—and I missed the goddamn vagina. I know this was due to anxiety fucking with my brain. I wanted it to end. I wanted all the drugs and alcohol. I was tired of going back and forth. Just tired. I was rushing the work—forcing it. Like I said before, I know that when I pause, I have no clue when I will start again. This is the case with running, going to the gym, and all sorts of other shit. I’m in an even more dangerous situation now because of the fear. Fear can kill writing. When I was younger, I did not believe in writer’s block, but now I’m sure it exists. Its name is Fear.

I wish I could take my own advice. I give my patients tips on fear, anxiety, and depression when they start getting better. Mostly shit I learned from my therapist and the one good sponsor I’ve had. I’m not talking about dumb shit like yoga or taking a walk or just pulling yourself up by your boot straps. More like, “Don’t try to run a marathon. Just put your shoes on and see what happens.” Most of the patients appreciate these tips because they know I’ve been where they are. I lie to them on my bad days. I know these things work because I’ve used them all. Well, actually, they start to work when your depression starts to go away. They don’t work worth a shit when you’re in the depths. None of those things seem to be working for me right now, though it’s still way better than it was before.

I’m better today and I doubt I’ll accidentally put any naked vaginas in my blog. I’m seeing my doctor on Weds, thank god. Hopefully, he’ll work some magic. Hopefully, I won’t miss any more vaginas.   


And just in case...

As many of you know, I’m on the hunt for fame and fortune using #SocialMedia to promote my nasty writings. I’ve done research and most of it is working. You also probably know that I don’t like #SocialMedia for my non-work entertainmentings, which makes it a pain in my balls. Usually these promotional activities are relegated to #PoopTime, #SmokeBreaks, and #WellYeahThatsAboutIt. Sorry about the hash tags. The GMan made me do it. Anyhoo..last night I was looking at the goddamn Twitter for funny shit when I ran across some fucked up pics. Being new to the Twitter, I was surprised at the range of subjects I saw. You might not believe this, but it’s not all just titties out there.

Here’s what I saw first:

Fucking cheerleaders! Yay! I love cheerleaders. Those goddamn skirts! I get all tingly inside when I see them, pretending I’m 17 again. After a slightly longer gaze, I noticed that these girls were definitely not 17 and had some really fucked up looks on their faces. What’s all that about, I asked myself as I clicked on the pic. Then I saw this:

Holy shit shitballs, I thought! That poor girl. Her life is ruined. Seriously. Instantly everyone in her high school is going to know that she shit the sky. Five minutes later…the world. That chick might not even be able to get a job after college, if she gets into college at all. There are only so many cripple kids you can help to boost your college application. And you know none of those bitches are going to catch her ass, so she’s going land hard in a puddle of her own mud. She’s probably going break her ass bone and get some taint lacerations. (Forgive the tense switching. Sometimes I’m thinking that the picture is in real time and sometimes I’m thinking that I’m seeing it months later.) Anyway, that girl is fucked. I was actually moved by this poor girl’s misfortune, but then I realized something: WHY THE FUCK IS THAT CHICK NOT WEARING ANY PANTIES?!?!

Usually a cheerleader with no panties on would be pretty exciting, but this was/is completely different. I dated a cheerleader back in the day and I’m pretty sure I know the panty/bloomer etiquette. She told me they wear panties AND bloomers, so as not to have any flap slips. Of course, there are some slutty ones who want to show their shit, but she said that didn’t happen very much. Get caught commando and you get kicked off the team. Moral of the story? If you don’t wear your panties and bloomers to the big game, you’re going to shit the sky and get taint lacerations. Your life is fucked temporarily, if not permanently, and you’re a slut.

After I wrote that last part, I realized that I may not remember the cheerleader panty protocol correctly. I may have been drunk at the time. For the sake of accuracy, I just texted the ex-gf, ex-cheerleader to see if I remembered the panty protocol correctly. My memory was “cleaner” than the truth.

Me: So…this is going to sound like a dirty and inappropriate question but it’s blog research. I promise. When you were a cheerleader did you wear panties AND bloomers? I won’t mention my source.


XGFXCL: Stop being dirty. You’re engaged!


Me: I’m serious. This is research and you’re the only ex-cheerleader I know. AND I’m going to show my Fabulous Fiance these texts so no one gets the wrong idea.

XGFXCL: Ok ok. Just bloomers. You can site me.

Me: Saw a gross pic on twitter and had to write about it.

XGFXCL: Sure you did.

Me: Seriously.

XGFXCL: Yeah yeah

Me: Do most cheerleaders do it that way?

XGFXCL: I don’t know about other girls or what they did.

Me: Shit. (This lack of info about other girls kinda ruined the Cheerleader Locker Room Panty Fight Fantasy I had as a boy.)

XGFXCL: Sorry

Me: Thanks! You’re the best!

XGFXCL: You say that to all your ex-girlfriends

(Thanks KE!)

Panties or no, the bloomers should be able to catch flying poop. Remember that, ladies!



Then I saw this pic. I was on my phone, so the pic was tiny. I’m going to make it small here so you get the idea.

My first thought was, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS THAT? I showed it to my Fabulous Fiancé and she said, “What the actualy fuck IS that?” On even closer inspection, I realized that it was a black chick bent over taking a #SexySelfie in the mirror. I don’t know if it was “sexy” or not; I’m not one to judge. After the initial shock wore off, I wondered how I would feel if I came home and found my Fabulous Fiance in that position. I mean, she’s not a black chick or anything, but she does have a proper ass. Shit! I think I wrote myself into a corner. AGAIN. I can say this: I would not be as disturbed as I was by the pic on Twitter. I would probably laugh and then get after her stuff right there in front of the decorative coffee siphon.

And…done.

If you have any crazy pics, send em this way!   

Follow me on twitter @edgefiction101