Fifty Shades of…….I Gave Up

Look, for my wife, I was trying to read Fifty Shades of Grey.  I couldn’t get past page 50.  She implored me to at least make it to the sex parts, but I just couldn’t do it.

I’m a man, I get off on actually seeing the tits and pussy, not imagining it.

I only used my imagination when I first hit puberty and the Sears catalog was all I had at my disposal to jerk off to.  Thankfully, those days are long gone.

I honestly tried, but within those first 50 pages, I think there were at least 30 references to Grey’s “long index finger.”

So, I’m guessing he either has a gigantic dong or the author is playing some sadistic trick.  Either way, I couldn’t stick around to find out.

For me it was boring and smelled suspiciously of a Lifetime Channel movie of the week.

To my wife; I still love you, but I just couldn’t do it.

To all the other women out there like my wife who enjoy the book; have fun with that.  I too can’t wait until some movie producer hijacks the Twilight cast to act out this steamy, fuck-fest for everyone to see on the big screen.  Now that I will watch.

Anyway, I just started reading God’s Lunatics by Michael Largo and it appears to be fascinating.

Just my two cents for the day.

cheers

Advertisements

My Fake Profile

So, I was thinking about adding a fake profile in the hopes of beefing up my following and comments.

What do you think?

  My Fake Profile:

Name: Womb-broom1975

Likes: Tanning, lotions, sit-ups, women who throw up after they eat, waxing my balls, Filipino boys, salad tossing

Dislikes: Candy, women who speak before being spoken to, boys who don’t like playing naked Twister,  carbs

Contact: Email me, I’m ready to chat

Favorite Sexual Position: Reverse Cowboy

P.S.– While I obviously spend a lot of time in the gym working out, don’t automatically think I’m unintelligent.  I’m a great speller too.  That’s right, total package:)

Dear Pussies

I’m tired of the whining, I’m tired of the bitching and complaining.  America has turned into a nation of big, giant, dripping wet pussies.

(I mean no disrespect to women or their vaginas with this post.  I quite like vaginas; it just so happens that the word “pussy” is used universally to describe people as wimps.  I didn’t create that.)

On Patriotism: Stop moaning every time I say I’m against war, that doesn’t mean I’m unpatriotic, it just means I have a differing opinion than those who enjoy bombing the hell out of dark-skinned people half way across the world.

Hey, they killed about 3,000 of us at the Twin Towers; I think we are more than even now.

How much longer do we need to prove our dick-size?

And don’t patronize me with your American Flag displays.  Nothing screams “Patriot” more than your old ass truck with a confederate flag waving from the tailgate.  AMERICA, FUCK YEAH.

On American Idol Contestants: Hey parents, if your kid sings like a wounded dog, please have the courage to tell them that they suck.

When you hide the truth from your kids in an effort not to hurt their feelings, you are only setting them up for embarrassment and failure.

It’s better for you, their parents, to tell them that they suck instead of encouraging them to display their ill-fated vocals in front of a panel of judges and millions of Americans on television.

“But mommy and daddy, you said I was the best singer in the county.  Why did everyone laugh at me?”  See, just tell them they suck and none of that will happen.  Continue reading