A Duel

Goddamn, I had to piss. I raced to the bathroom and stood at the urinal, unzipping my pants, when I heard the door open. I felt another man's presence beside me. Our gaze never met. Direct eye contact was consciously avoided. But it was understood. It was I who issued the tacit challenge, putting our respective manhood's on the line. Both of us knew, without speaking, what was about to go down. A Duel.
"Ready. . . Set. . Piss!"
I began before he did to let him know right off the top I was not scared. Giving another man a head start in a duel of the piss is a bold move; one that should only be attempted by a true alpha male. About five seconds into my piss, he started. It was on. Sometimes, a piss can feel almost as good as busting a nut. That's about where I was at. I had recently consumed 32 ounces of purified water approximately 45 minutes prior to the contest. My bladder was bursting. I had parked far away, and after a five minute walk, this was the first opportunity I'd had to piss. The piss released endorphins which spawned a euphoria that washed over me in an awesome wave. This man stood no chance. Who the fuck does he think is to think he can piss longer than me? This was confirmed when I heard his flow winding down, but mine was still going strong. He finished, shook, zipped, and stepped away, defeated. My stream continued in triumph. He washed his hands and left, a loser. My flow began to slow up after my piss bitch left. He had come and gone in the span of my micturition. My eyes never left the wall in front of me. . . eyes of a champion.

My pipes do not need cleaning

Conventional "man wisdom" states that before going out with a new chick, you should rub one out to "clean the pipes." The theory is if we drop a load beforehand, we'll be able to hold out longer if we fuck that night*. And when I was a young buck, this was sage advice. But now, as I age gracefully into my late-twenties, I no longer feel a need for such preemption. Now, I'm all for a good jerk session, don't get me wrong. I must get the poison out on a daily basis. But I'm older now, I have more control. There are no surprises here. It's just some pussy. My dick's been wet before. I got experience. I like to save my load for the girl now. If I clean my pipes, the volume is diminished. I'd much rather load up on some zinc**, and slap a girl with a big 'ol eight roper load on the first time out. It's really quite a compliment. I'm going out of my way to give you this huge load because nothing says, "I had a great time, we should do this again" like making a girl's teeth look like they're melting. Have a nice day and don't forget your towel.


*I understand now there is no such thing as premature ejaculation.
**Zinc gives you Peter North-sized loads.

Rick Pitino is a monkey

Rick Pitino is the head basketball coach at Louisville. He was recently the target of an extortion scheme, concocted by a waitress he banged and impregnated at a restaurant in 2003. This man is married, with five kids, makes millions of dollars a year, yet he raw dogged a waitress the day he met her. Not only is Rick Pitino a fucking G, he's a monkey. What on Earth would possess a man in his position to blow a load inside a bitch he met that day? Only a monkey would do such things. Monkeys don't care where their load ends up. They just drop that shit; it betters their chances at propagating the species. I mean, I understand the desire to cheat on a spouse; shit gets old after a while. But putting your naked dick inside some stranger and blowing your load? That's insane! You have to not give FUCK to do something like that. No fear of disease, no fear of pregnancy; I'm just gonna jerk off real quick with this bitch's pussy, who I just met today, and deposit my load in there. Only a woman who is completely out of her gourd would allow such a thing. He even gave her 3 g's for an abortion. Goddamn, I can't get over the fact that the man walks into a restaurant, sees a semi-attractive woman (monkeys are not picky, I.E. Ben Roethlesberger), hits on her, convinces her to sex him right there in the restaurant bathroom, and then blows an unencumbered load inside her. Wow. Those are some bold fucking moves. It would almost be impressive if this shit hadn't gone public. Whatever, anyway, Rick Pitino: Your genetics are so fucking bad, it's a good thing you have five kids because with each additional child, your chances of producing successful offspring increase exponentially. May God have mercy on your soul.

Why can't we be friends?

Because I'll fuck you. Or you'll fuck me. Either way, one of us wants a piece. I laugh my ass off when a girl tells me she has tons of guy friends. Yeah, you have tons of guys who want to fuck you. They are not your friend. And if none of them want to fuck you and you all still hangout anyway, it means you're cool, but ugly, and secretly in love with one of them. That's sad and pathetic. But if one of those guys gets really wasted and you catch him in the right moment, he'll take you down. That's why we all can't be friends. Sex is always on the table. One will always feel a little bit more towards the other. This creates an imbalance and platonic friendships cannot flourish in such an environment. Let's take this one step further. Say your girlfriend has a really good guy friend. . . .Exactly. You're not an idiot, he wants to fuck her. She doesn't want to fuck him because she has you, and women are biologically engineered to settle with the one they're putting out for. This dude is utilizing the "Wear Down" game. This is the strategy utilized by tools and losers who are nice enough to reach friend status, but don't have what it takes to make the slay. This game is executed by always being in the background, hovering like a vulture, waiting for the lion to abandon his kill so they can swoop in and pick the carcass. These types have endless patience and won't go anywhere unless you make your bitch get rid of him. If she doesn't want to get rid of him, it means she's one of those who experiences chronic insecurity and always needs a man around for validation. That unfortunately means she's just using you, so save your emotion and get rid of her. There's like 200 million other women it the country. Grab 'em by the ankles, turn 'em upside down and they all look the same. . . Questions?