Anxiety and Accidental Porn
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.
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.)
Me: Thanks! You’re the best!
XGFXCL: You say that to all your ex-girlfriends
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.
I don’t remember the caption—I have to start writing these things down—but it was intriguing. #AlienAss or something like that. I had to click on it. I’m kind of into aliens and I WANT to believe. I wish I had more to say here so that the full-sized pic would be farther down. Kinda ruins the joke if you see them at the same time. I hate not being in control my jokes or stories or songs or whatever. That’s when the shit gets not funny or people get really pissed off at you and think you’re a rapist. It’s fucking awful, but that’s how it goes. You have to create knowing that you’re not going to be there to explain. Maybe I should cuddle these babies a little longer. Ok, that’s about as much space-taking bullshit I have. Here’s what I saw:
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.
If you have any crazy pics, send em this way!
Follow me on twitter @edgefiction101
GMan, yesterday I was outside my therapist’s office smoking when I looked up and saw a bunch of teenage soccer girls taking off their practice shirts and putting on the game jerseys. They were all wearing nothing but sports bras! I felt super uncomfortable and turned on at the same time. I wanted to look soooo bad, but I just stared at my shoes. Is it ok to look if it’s just out there for the world to see?
Kyle, 35 – Arlington
Ho. Ly. Sheeit, Kyle! That’s a terrible situation to be in. You’re not gonna believe this but that same shit happened to me last week. I did the same thing you did, but I didn’t want to. We have to admit that we’re guys, and guys like looking at titties. The girls I saw all had adult bodies, which made the entire thing a mental clusterfuck. If they were little girls, I wouldn’t have given the slightest shit, but they weren’t. They were full-grown, tight, smooth, athletes, with titties at their peak. #NipplesToTheSky And those asses were so tight. The legs were smooth and muscular ready to squeeze the GMan’s head off. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME?!?!?! I hate being a dude sometimes. Kyle, you did the right thing. (Those chicks’ dads, on the other hand, need to be slapped around. You know those dudes are looking at their daughters’ little buddies and thinking the same shit we are.) Smoke on the other side of the building and think of strippers or the pic below. That’s the only way.
Feeling your pain,
Hi GMan, seems like most of the guys I date are only interested in anal sex. How do you feel about anal? Is it ok if I do anal with these guys, even if I don’t really like it? What about ATM? I lot of guys are into that too. I’ve only done it three times and it’s kind of gross. Tell me what to do!!!
Carry, 18 – Houston, TX
PS. You can give me anal any time!
Thanks for the offer, Carry, but what the actual fuck is wrong with you?!?! Sounds like you’ve taken it in the pooper from a lot of dudes a lot of times. And you’re only 18. JESUS H. CHRIST. First of all, stop all anal activities #RIGHTNOW. I’m not saying you have to give up the anal forever, but your sweet young butthole is in danger of anal fissures and all sorts of other conditions of the dook-chute variety. Trust me on this. I’ve experienced the mud tunnel once or twice. Nothing wrong with it, but why would you choose that when the pussy hole is so close? After getting a chick in the butthole, you gotta wash all kinds of poop off your dick. One time I got a…never mind.
There are a few types of anally-obsessed dudes. 1. They want to dominate you. #BefoulYourBrownStarfish. Colonize that ass, so to speak. It’s not cool. Respect yourself and stop letting them in there. You can tell which dudes want to degrade you. These same guys probably want to bust a nut in your face and they probably never give you the reach-around. 2. These dudes may be slightly (or a lot gay). They are probably fucking you in the ass and imagining another dude. These guys probably NEVER want the pussy and don’t play with your titties too much. There’s no problem with a dude fucking a dude in the ass. #ILoveTheGays but there’s nothing in it for you, Carry. I bet these same guys like you to stick stuff in their butts. #OrganicCarrot Am I right? I thought so. 3. These guys might just be fecalpheliacs. These dudes may ask you to poop in their mouths at some point. Go for it if you want to. That shit is funny, as long as I don’t have to see it. 4. Some couples delve into assplay to spice things up. That is totally normal and awesome, but you obviously haven’t been fucking one dude long enough to need to spice it up.
ATM: Fucking gross! See #1.
Ok, Carry, I hope that answers your question. Not all guys are into anal, so don’t believe the hype.
GMan, I just got sober a week ago and my sponsor says I should let him suck my dick when I feel like relapsing. He says it’s the only way to stay sober. I’m not comfortable with that but I’m scared to death. They told me that AA is the only thing that can help me and I’m going to die if I don’t go every day for the rest of my life and accept Jesus as my Lord and Savior. What should I do?
Greg B, 28
Greg, what the fuck is wrong with your sponsor? I’ll tell you what’s wrong: he’s a fucking sick asshole who preys on people at rock bottom. If you send me a private message, I’ll be happy to go fuck him up. I know some guys. Better yet, tell a mean-ass “old timer” about your sponsor—ideally a Vet. #VetsKickAss He’ll make shit happen. Then, you need to go find another AA group. If anyone tells you that they need to suck your cock or fuck you in the ass, punch them in the dick and leave. If anyone tells you that you need Jesus to stay sober, tell them to go fuck themselves. While AA is a great program with the right people, it can also fuck you up big time. Find a good sponsor, do your 90 in 90, and then make a decision.
Trust me; I understand that fear, but you’re going to be ok. You won’t feel like this forever.
Hit me up for answers to your most probing questions!
This is a fat/hilarious pic of me when I was fat as fuck. There’s lotion all over my buddy’s back. There’s lotion all over my front. Pretty gay, but it gives you an idea of my former fatassedness. I covered my friend’s face because he would not want to be seen losing a game of Guard the Glory.
I gained a lot of weight when I got sober. (I was on a lot of Xanax the night of the Gay Lotion Hump, which felt relatively sober compared to large vats of Jack Daniels and Bud Light.) My normal weight has always been between 165 and 175. When I got sober, I gained about 50 lbs within a couple of months. Like two months. I was pretty sure that was because I hadn’t eaten for a year or two. A slice of pizza here. A boiled egg there. Sometimes people had to bribe me to eat. “If you eat this burger, I’ll buy you some beer.” That’s fucking sad, now that I’ve written it down. I got sober-ish finally and started eating like a motherfucker. I consumed a lot of sugar, which is pretty common for people who just quit drinking. But 50 lbs?
There was this girl at group therapy for drunks and junkies who I was completely (aesthetically) in love with. She was a reason to live and stay sober. The only reason I had at the time. I got a gym membership and started working out like crazy. I didn’t lose any weight. I only got bigger and stronger. It was terrible. Anyway, that’s how I got fat and that’s how I didn’t get thin.
None of my shit fit anymore. I cut slits in the waist bands of my jeans. I wore a lot of sweat shirts. Finally, I bought some new shit—well, my mom bought me new shit. My motherfucking fat clothes. It was terrible.
I had this job interview during my fat period where I had to wear my suit. I got out of my car and tried to button my jacket. Tried. I got drunk as fuck the next day. I was convinced that a fat sober dude who lived with his mom would NEVER EVER get the pussy again. A month or two later, I ended up in coma. I lost all the weight plus twenty lbs. Jesus, this is taking me a long time to get to the point. I’ll have to cut this down later. Or not.
It’s been about five years since I got out of the hospital and I’m normal sized again. Here’s me normal size.
(I paid for this picture)
I noticed (again) that my jeans are sagging like a motherfucker this morning. The thing is, I didn’t buy these when I was fat. I was just used to buying fat jeans and bought the same size. I still have shit left over from those days that I don’t want to throw away. Maybe most people do this, thinking, I can wear this in case I turn into a fat fucker again. I don’t know if that’s what I’m thinking or not. I tell myself that I don’t want to buy new shit to save money and that my balls fit well into these baggy jeans. I have khakis that are way too big. I have Polos that are way too big. I’ve gotten rid of most of my fatass t-shirts, but t-shirts are cheap. And what if I end up fat again? I’ve moved passed the habit of buying fat dude pants, but I keep most of the fat stuff I already have until it is unwearable. Then I buy stuff that fits.
I still gorge myself on sweets to fill whatever hole we’re all trying to fill, even though I’m diabetic. And since I’m not running—due to laziness, work, whatever—I have a great fear of my fatness coming back.
It seems kind of defeatist to keep your fat clothes in case you get fat again, though it may just be realistic, like buying a carton of smokes instead of single pack. Does anyone else do this? What are your reasons? I use the excuse of my nutsac and my low budget. What excuses do you use? Do you keep them? Throw them away?
What the actual fuck is wrong with me today?!?!
Regardless of gender, do you think it's possible for a person to get out of the friend zone?
Hey Veroniqua! First you need to determine if you’re actually in the Friend Zone. Did your “friend” tell you that you are in the Friend Zone or are you just assuming? Plenty of chicks thought they were in the Friend Zone with me only because I play it way too cool with chicks I really like. (If they are just hot and I don’t give a fuck, I take em to Pound Town immediately.) By the time my stupid ass got around to making the move on the girls who thought they were in the Friend Zone, they had moved me into the Friend Zone. Terrible! I missed out on tons of pussy that way, and probably some kick ass relationships. I was a full-blown retard as a younger man. So, first you have to find out if you’re in the Friend Zone. I’m not exactly sure how to do that. Get a little flirty and see what happens? Tell him you’re going to get more comfortable while you’re watching Frozen on Netflix and then strip down to bra, panties, and thigh-highs? Ask? #Blumpkin?
Your chances of getting out of the Friend Zone depend a lot on how long you’ve been in it. If it’s been years, you’re probably fucked. Move on. Find a new dude (or chick) who’s ready to part those meat curtains, if you know what I’m saying. If it’s only been a couple months, you got a shot. #MakeHisAssJealous. You need to start going out with your girlfriends and find another dude. Then start fucking that dude. Faking all of this might be the best route. You may not have girlfriends and you probably don’t want to just start fucking random dudes. Doesn’t matter. Just hint to the guy that you really like that you are going out, meeting new people, whatever. Post fake shit on Facebook. Grab a good-looking dude/chick at the bar and ask if they’ll take a picture with you. Tell them it’s for a sociology project or something. Repeat. A couple of these pics will do; if the guy you like sees too many, he’ll think you’re a total fucking whore and bounce. #SlutButt. Anyway, if there’s any chance, he’ll get jealous as fuck and move you right out of the Friend Zone and into the Bang Zone. #Booyeah! If you’re looking for a hot dude to take a pic with, hit me up!
Hey Buddy! I heard these guys on the radio talking about “Wash Rag Service” and I have no idea what that is, besides that it has something to do with sex. I just lost my virginity and I want to do it right. I really love her. If I don’t make her happy, I’ll probably never get laid again! What is “Wash Rag Service” and should I be doing it? Please help!
Beau, 17 – Baton Rouge, LA
Congratu-fucking-lations, Beau! That’s awesome! Losing your virginity to a girl you love may be the most magical thing ever. Before we talk about “Wash Rag Service” which is absolutely necessary by the way, we need to talk about your desire to please this girl and you thinking you’ll never getting laid again. Take that thought out of your head immediately! She may seem like the girl of your dreams, but she might join the Marines, get a dykey haircut (No offense. Some of my best friends are lesbians.), tell you she never came, make you wear matching outfits, not give you the pussy on your honeymoon, move you to some shit hole in the South, tell you that you stink, only give you the pussy if she’s drunk, throw a cornbread pan at you, try to get alimony even though you only make five dollars an hour, all of which will give you a complex that fucks up relationships with every subsequent girl you ever date and make you drink yourself into a coma at 33. Whoa! #NotSureWhereThatCameFrom. Fuck that, though! You’ll bang plenty of other hot chicks who will love your dick and your fuck styles and never tell you that you stink. So, yeah, the “Wash Rag Service.”
The Wash Rag Service is simply getting a wet wash rag and cleaning her up after you bust a nut on her belly, titties, back, or wherever it happens to go. I call these The White Lake, Snow-topped Mountains, and The Nutback of Notre Dame, respectively. (Don’t come in her face; that shit’s just fucking rude…unless it’s an accident.) I personally go beyond the Wash Rag Service and do the Full Spa Treatment. I get a clean towel and wet about eight inches of one end with hot water—it will be the perfect temperature when you get back to the bed. Using one side of the dry end of the towel, wipe up the big globs. Then using the wet end, wipe her clean. Once all the residue is gone, dry her off with the clean side of the dry end of the towel. That’s how you treat a fucking lady! So yes, always do the Wash Rag Service, if not the Full Spa Treatment.
WARNING: Do NOT ever go raw dawg and pull out unless you know she’s on birth control. And just because a chick tells you she’s on birth control doesn’t mean she is. As the Urban Poet, Snoop Dogg once said, “I’d advise you not to trust that ho.” Also, the pull-out method does NOT prevent disease. There is no Morning After Pill for AIDS or anything else, though I wish there was.
Happy fuckin and wear rubbers!
PS. If your chick never offers you the Wash Rag Service, get a new chick.
Hey, GMan, what’s a girl gotta do to get a little love from you? I read last week that you now have a fabulous fiancé? Is it weird that makes me want you more? Will you PM me a private pic later? I promise it won’t go viral!
Suzanne ∆∆∆, 21 – Norman, OK
Well, helloooo Suzanne! You tri-Delts are some dirty little girls…and I LOVE it! We’ll pretend for a second that I don’t have a Fabulous Fiancé while I talk about how you “get a little love” from the GMan. You’re on the right track. You see, The GMan doesn’t chase girls; girls chase the G. 97.2% of chicks I’ve gotten down with kissed me first. Partly because I’m scared to kiss new girls. Next time I’m at OU doing a blog signing, ask me to go for some drinks afterward. Take me to a dive bar. As we stand at the bar—I’m ordering Jack Daniels Rocks and you’re ordering anything but Jack Daniels Rocks—you’ll gently rub your chest on my arm. We’ll sit down in a booth, each on our own side, and you’ll tell me how I’m a great writer and that you love my new stuff as much as my old stuff. You’ll tell me stories, but not any stupid-ass stories about your dumbass ex-boyfriend who was more interested in watching football and playing Xbox than talking to you. Crinkle your eyes and look at me like I’m a new Barbie. After a few drinks, move to my side of the table and rest your thigh on mine. Wear a lot of perfume—something floral. I want to smell you on my shirt when I get back from tour. When the bar closes, we’ll go back to your place and make out. If it goes past a certain point, the magic will be ruined. This Almost will leave us with The Question. We’ll think about it when we’re older. You’ll watch my career, as life goes on with your husband and kids. Every fall, you’ll be just a little bit sad. There will be that song that you only listen to at that time of year. Alone and in your car, taking the long way home.
Next, it’s not weird that my engagement makes you want me more. Chicks want what other chicks have.
(Pretend I don’t have a fiancé again.) I will NOT send you a pic in a PM…until you send me one. I want to see your face and your belly button because that’s how I roll. As far as me sending you a pic, we’ll see.
A note to the fellas: Don’t ever send a picture of your dick to anyone. Especially if your face is in it. Tell the chick you will. Go buy some Johnston & Murphy’s and striped socks and send her a pick of that. Buy some fancy boxer briefs and send her a pic of the waist band. These teases will keep her going and keep her sending you pics of her sweet ass. And by the way, unless your dick is as pretty as mine, no one wants to see it.
Send that pic, Suzanne. I can’t wait!
I wish more men understood the struggles of women like you do. I am a fair-skinned girl who has years of massive spray tan fails under her belt. When I moved to Dallas a few years ago, I noticed that everyone was so hot and tan. I immediately started tanning and more than once I have looked like a streaky orange oompa-loompa. And those lotions at the grocery store are comical. Now, there are new custom spray tans done by people instead of machines where you stand there naked in front of a stranger and get customized colors and treatment with this spray gun thing so I am really considering giving this another chance. These magical spray tan professionals can make you look skinnier than you are. How great is this?! I am still a bit nervous so I just wanted to ask you if tanning is something you look for in a woman. Do guys really care about this stuff? What about that smell? I kind of hate the way I smell like not-vanilla.
Just want to look good for you,
Sara Beth ∆Γ, Kilgore, TX, born and raised
Sara Beth, I love Delta Gamma girls! (Why all the sorority chicks this time?) I can tell already that you’re a smart girl. You read my blog, and you’re hesitant to follow the standard Dallas Bitches down the Candy Midget Path. In general, dudes don’t really give a shit how tan girls are. I think pale skin is a classic look. Of course there are those girls that are just too fucking pale, and in that case, get you a nice spray tan. Sounds like that custom shit is the way to go. Fake tans are kinda like fake titties in that way: Only if necessary and don’t use a fucking coupon. That streaky orange shit is just gross. I don’t want to fuck a Cheeto.
That being said, a nice spray can also lead to some comical…well I’ll just call them issues. I dated this girl—we’ll call her Splashley—and she got one of those fancy spray tans. Her hair was almost black and her fair skin was hot. For some crazy-ass reason, she decided that she looked gross. She didn’t give a fuck what I thought. The tan looked natural and there were no streaks. I loved the smell, by the way. Smelled like a stripper at the beach. MMMM. Anyway, there were some unexpected side effects of the fancy spray tan. There were parts of her body—creases in her elbows for example—that looked a bit purplish. She told me those areas would go back to normal in no time. I didn’t give a fuck due to the fact that she was hot. That night while we were watching Mary Poppins, I got all horny and decided to go down on her right as the penguins were serving up the tea and shit. I pulled those panties off and was shocked to see that her pussy lips were Kool-Aid purple. Purple pussy lips? What the actual fuck? And let me tell you, it did NOT taste like grape drank. I think the chemicals fucked up her PH balance and made it taste like…Never mind. Due to non-pussy-taste reason, we broke up soon after that and she ended up on a reality TV show about people addicted to eating crayons and shit.
So Sara Beth, make yourself happy as far as your tan goes, but put some bandaids over those sweet pussy flaps!
PS. To quote the Urban Poet Nelly, “As long as you are thicky thicky thick, girl, you know that it’s on.”
1. I can already tell that this will be the first of many.
2. My google image searches didn't go quite as I'd planned. At all. Never EVER google "tranny" ever. "Hot girls in bad clothes" also leaves a bit to be desired, for the purposes of this blog at least.
When I first teased this edition of Ask the GMan on Facebook, a friend asked “What constitutes a woman?” At first, I was like, Oh fuck. Then I realized how important that question is to such a piece. Of course, I could talk about gender theorists like Simone de Beauvoir who said, “One is not born a woman, one becomes a one.” She obviously is talking about gender as a construction of the culture and not biology. Fuck that. I’m not saying that sweet Simone is not “right” or that the entire question is bullshit. But. Well. Moving on: Biology doesn’t provide such easy answers to the gender question either. There are extra chromosomes and shit that can make a person basically two genders, or how the fuck ever many genders there are these days. But once you throw in extra chromosomes, you’re on the fast-track to talking about retards, etc., and that’s one hole I’d rather not go down.
The same day I posted the teaser for this edition, my Fabulous Fiancé and I went to Kroger to get some cat food and Fire and Ice Rubbers—a Friday night tradition in our house. Anyway, as we were checking out, we heard a wild super-gay racket coming from behind us. There was a dude with another dude-who-was-a-chick holding a pink dog. The dude-who-was-a-chick grossed me the fuck out. Don’t get me wrong; I’m totally down with drag queens and trannies—oops, I mean transgendered persons—but this person looked fucking scary. “Holy shit,” I said quietly to FF. “I would rather suck every dick in the Kroger than kiss that dude/chick.” (We go to the gay Kroger, so there were probably hundreds of dicks in there, just begging to be sucked by the Le G.) She said, “Really?” I said, “Fuck yeah! Did you see his/her lips? He/she needs to sue her/his doctor. Fucking nasty.” I made an inaudible retch noise. I’m not kidding either; I would suck ALL the DICKS. I now I sound like an asshole, but you know that dude-who-was-a-chick was looking for attention. Probably enjoyed the bad at least as much as the good.
So, for the sake of this edition of Ask the GMan, the word “woman” means someone with a pussy she didn’t pay for and who claims to be a chick.
I always blow my paycheck on clothes! I can’t stop myself. I want to look hot. So…I started to wonder, who am I looking hot for? My super-sexy hubby who doesn’t really care what I look like as long as my clothes are off? Or for the ladies? My girlfriends and I are always talking clothes, shoes, etc. Is it just my man or do men just not care about fashion?
Kellie - 30
Fort Worth, TX
Yeehaw! Kellie, you have a few complicated questions going on here, but luckily, you’ve come to the right place. I bet your super-sexy hubby does care what you look like, nekkid or not. You’re probably hot and you are always dressed well, so he doesn’t really notice. (That sounds like a bad thing, but it’s not. People don’t pay much attention to noses unless you have a really busted-ass nose.) If you started to dress in MeeMaw clothes, he would definitely notice! It is obvious that you care what he thinks, so you are dressing for him, whether either of you knows it or not. AND just because he doesn’t know the difference between Alexander Wang and Manolo Blahnik, doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. He probably doesn’t know the exact difference between a thong, a g-string, and a T-back, and he definitely cares about that!
That being said, you’re also dressing up for your girlfriends. Girls can be total bitches to other girls. Y’all can be some judgy assholes sometimes. (Don’t deny it, ladies; you know I’m right.) Most women I know want to be just a little hotter than their friends—if not a lot hotter. And that’s ok. On the other hand, they are your friends and fashion is something you care about. It’s almost like a bunch of dudes talking about baseball or whatever.
Men do care about fashion, but just not the same way you do. If you’re hot enough, you could be wearing a dress made of poop and he would probably be cool with that…as long as your boobs are popping out. Confused yet? Me too.
Don’t be slave to fashion, be a slave to HOT,
Send your questions to the GMan in the comment section or whatever digital communication platform is available to you! I can't wait. XXX
Normally I'm not attracted to black women, but there is a food truck near my work that serves the best Monte Cristo sandwiches you can imagine. The girl who takes my order is black, has a big smile, and giant boobs. Every time I go, she smiles and tells me she wants me to bang her inside the truck. Once she said I could go back door (inside her booty) up against the prep station with all the meat and vegetables. I'm thinking about it, GMan, but she's not my type. Also, I've never gone back door. Am I racist or just horny? Should I bang the food truck girl?
Bill, 48 – Round Rock, TX
Jesus Christ, Bill! What the actual fuck is wrong with you? FUCK YES, you should bang the colored food truck girl. Yes, you are probably racist, but so is everyone else. Yes, you’re horny. (And Bill, we all know that “back door” means inside the booty.) First of all, you never know what you’re missing til you try it out. Once you go black, you never go back! I don’t know if that’s true or not, but who cares? It’s all pink in the middle!
Here’s what you do: Buy some rubbers; you don’t want to go raw dawg in the butthole. Go to the food truck right before close and order up the Monte Cristo. Then, bust in the back door (of the food truck). Stick that sandwich between her butt cheeks and eat it all the way to the hole. I like to call this move the Double Decker Delicious Booty Meat Sandwich. If this girl’s buttcheeks can’t hold a Monte Cristo, then you need to find a different black chick. Once you’ve fueled up, give it to her good. While you’re slaying that butthole, reach around and tickle her clit. Don’t be stingy while you’re giving a chick anal. (You can quote the GMan on that.) After she has a few orgasms, turn her around and put her up on the prep table so you can get her in the front cunt. Sweep all the vegetables and shit off on to the floor. You need to do this for two reasons. 1. It looks cool, like in the movies. 2. You don’t want to cross-contaminate. (Ass to Pussy doesn’t count as cross-contamination, as long as you turn the rubber inside-out.)
Good luck, playa!
GMan, or whatever your name is, I’ve been reading your blogs and stories for years. You’re a fucking misogynist asshole. You really think it’s okay to masturbate looking at private photos of people? You think it’s okay to want to have intercourse with underage cheerleaders? I bet you beat women and kick dogs. You probably have a small penis too. What the fuck is wrong with you?
Myrtle, 19 – Denton, TX
Sweet, Myrtle, there’s only one thing wrong with me: You just took your first Feminist Lit class. You are so precious!
Be cool. Stay in School.
GMan!!! Squeeeee! I wanna do it with you so bad. I “jack my clit” every time I read your work. You are a true artist. Anyway, there is the new fad of making mac and cheese by boiling the pasta in milk and then adding butter and cheese without draining. This seems blasphemous. Are you for or against?
Blair, 35 – Dallas, TX
Wow, Blair! Thank you so much. My Fabulous Fiancé also heard about this new method and she also thinks it’s blasphemous. Obviously, there is nothing the fuck wrong with you because you have great taste in men. But I have to disagree on the Mac and Cheese issue. This shit sounds fucking delicious. All that creaminess sounds like blasphemy to you? You crazy, girl! I want to eat that shit RIGHT NOW. And not only does it sound super awesome, it’s your moral obligation to make it this way. There are thirsty kids in Africa who need that macaroni water. (Picture a cute little African kid.) You’re just going to pour it down the drain anyway. Think about how good it would feel to bottle up the water you would use on the mac and send that shit to Somalia. Not only would this kid get some clean water to drink, but there’s a good chance that your generosity could prevent a future pirate from coming into existence. That little guy might just end up going to Harvard and saving his homeland from AIDS and terrorists and Ebola and all the other horrible shit that goes on in Africa. Bono will proud, and your man will give you a proper reach-around!
Much Love, Blair XO
Dear GMan, I heard this show on NPR about this scientist who would manually pleasure the adolescent dolphin she worked with so he would calm down. My kitty is about three months old and he’s always digging in my purse, and while he’s digging, his tiny red thingy pokes out of his furry knob down there. Should I use my hand on him to calm him down so he stops getting tampons and hair ties out of my purse? He’s just soooo cute! ;)
Christina, 32 – Las Colinas, TX
Holy shit, Christina! What the actual fuck is wrong with you? I was thinking that this was almost a reasonable question until you mentioned your kitty’s cuteness. That’s when it got creepy. No, you should NOT under any circumstances jerk off your cat. I heard that episode of Radio Lab too, and that lady sounded like a fucking freak. This question worries me. Jerking off animals can seem like a noble gesture on some basic level. You’re helping your little buddy out and it’s obviously consensual—assuming the animal’s boner and nutbusting is a form of consent. The problem is that giving your kitty a hanjee is a gateway drug. Before long you got a dog and you’re buying peanut butter at Sam’s. Who knows after that? Hampster dildos and shit? That shit is just fucking wrong. Again, do NOT jerk off your cat. Go find a therapist. Zip your fucking purse.
Thanks for reading,
GMan, one of my students wants to fuck. She’s a cheerleader and she’s super hot. She doesn’t wear panties to my class. She said she wants to do a hurkey on my cock! She’s 17!!! Maybe if I fuck her, she’ll calm down like the lady with the dolphin and the other lady with the horny cat. A teaching moment?
Dan, 24 – Amarillo, TX
Well, Dan, 17 is legal in the Great State of Texas. Wait, no! What the fuck is wrong with me? Do not under any circumstances (unless the Zombies are coming) fuck your student. First of all, you’ll get fired. What the fuck are you gonna do in Amarillo after that? Shovel shit? Secondly, it’s just wrong. Why? Because I’m telling myself to tell you it’s wrong. You’re also trying pretty damn hard to convince both of us that you should fuck her, which gives me pause. Legal age. Hot. Cheerleader. No panties. !@#$%^&*&^%$#@. (Sorry got distracted.) Teaching moment? Seriously? No one is buying that shit. And finally, you do NOT want anybody, no matter how hot, to do a hurkey on your dick. That shit hurts like a motherfucker, or so I’ve heard. You can break your dick, or so I’ve heard.
Keep it in your pants, brother!
Hey GMan! Your shit literally makes me laugh out loud. Anyway, I was wondering if it is gay to like Justin Timberlake.
Gabe, 39 – Carlsbad, NM
Thanks, Gabe. Fuck no, it’s not gay! When InSync came out, I was in a metal band called Grandma’s Death Chamber and I definitely thought they were all gay as fuck. But as time passed, JT and I both matured. I didn’t want to admit it at first, but that is one talented motherfucker. He can sing, dance, act, and he’s damn good looking. I could watch him sing and dance all day! Especially the dancing. Jesus Christ, I wish I could dance like that. It hits something deep inside of me, like I was a great dancer in a former life or something. It’s almost too perfect. Know what I mean? I get the same feeling watching Catherine Zeta Jones dance in Chicago. Ok, well, not the exact same feeling, because every few minutes while I’m watching her dance, I think, “Goddamnit! I would love to fuck her fucking silly!” I don’t get that when I watch Justin Timberlake. I mostly want to BE him. I want people to watch me dance and sing like that. I want to make other people feel the way he makes me feel. So if you’re just watching him dance and NOT thinking, “Goddamnit! I would love to fuck him fucking silly,” it’s not gay at all. On the other hand, if you’re thinking about fucking him, you’re probably gay. And if you are gay, fuck it! Go find some cool gay dudes to kick it with!
Love (No Homo),
I’m so fucking excited, I can barely type.
About 9 this morning, my buddy texted me a photo of a hot nekkid chick with awesome titties. She was standing in a mirror with some dude. There was text in the text, but I had to look at the titties first. Before I enlarged the pic, I thought the dude was my buddy. Usually, I would think this was in bad taste, but this chick was so hot I figured I could forgive him. When I opened the picture, I realized it was not my buddy, which was a relief and also made me a little sad for him. The text of the text said something about Apple getting hacked and pics of famous chicks were all over Twitter. I asked if he had any more of those pics and he sent me a Jennifer Lawrence pic. JESUS H. CHRIST. I didn’t know whether to shit or go blind. I immediately opened up the Twitter and started searching. A few minutes later, the emails, texts, and Facebook messages started rolling in, asking my opinion on the whole thing and whether people should look at those pics. Here’s my reply:
What the actual fuck is wrong with you!?!? Of course, you should look at hot nekkid movie star chicks!!! Any time someone says, “Hey, you wanna look at this picture of a hot nekkid chick?” you ALWAYS say, “Fuck yeah!” I don’t give a fuck if the hot chick in question is a celebrity or not. Everybody likes to see hot nekkid chicks and life is short. Celebrity nekkid chicks? Super Duper Fuck Yeah! This is a gift from the Gods.
Some of Tweets and shit said you shouldn’t look and it’s wrong and respect these poor hot famous chicks’ privacy blah blah blah. I say, “If the titties (and snatches) are out there already, might as well check em out.” Jennifer Lawrence is probably going to be really mad at me when she reads this—of course, she reads my blog. Before I wrote this, there was a good chance that I could have boned her at some point in the future, which I’ve probably now ruined. What Jennifer is forgetting is that I have a Fabulous Girlfriend and wouldn’t bang her in real life anyway.
But…that’s not to say I always felt this way. I wanted to do it with JL since I first saw her. Ok, maybe not the first time because that movie was sad as fuck and she was probably too young. But now that she’s “of age” and her movies aren’t all so fucking sad, I would eat that pussy up to her throat! Jesus! Ok, enough of that. Sorry, JL L
One has to ask oneself, “How would I feel if that were me or my girlfriend or whatever?” I can honestly say that I don’t give a fuck who sees my dong. Though not the largest one ever, it’s very aesthetically pleasing. Also, back in my Rock N Roll days, I showed that bad boy to anyone who would look. On stage. No shit. So, what if people were looking at pics of my Fabulous Girlfriend nekkid? (People all over the world have probably been masturbating to us forever, so it doesn’t really matter.) In this particular medium, I’m ok with it, but that’s not up to me. The main point is that no one should ever trust technology. NEVER. EVER.
If you take a pic on your phone, that shit ends up on DropBox, iCloud, your laptop, your iPad, your TV, and probably your mom’s Facebook page. Fuck that. And the problem is that you have to turn that shit off. Fuck technology. That’s why I kick it old school. I paint pictures of my wiener and send them to my Fabulous Girlfriend in the mail. Way safer.
And speaking of technology, people (misguided feminists mostly) are always saying that shit about airbrushing and fancy makeup and CGI titties and camera filters and all sorts of other shit like that. I’ve always called bullshit on this, but now the proof is officially in the ass pudding. Both of the girls I saw looked fucking awesome! They had shitty lighting, no makeup person, no fancy camera, and no airbrushing. Per-fucking-fection.
So next time someone asks you if you want to see pics of hot nekkid chicks, say, “Fuck yeah!” You officially have the GMan’s approval.
If you need me, I’ll probably be beating off to hot nekkid celebrities for the next week or so.