If those wacky gays get to redefine what has ALWAYS been a straight concept, then us straight folk need to fight back by redefining something of theirs. My suggestion: gay sex. As a heterosexual male, I never get to have gay sex. That's bullshit. I SHOULD HAVE THE RIGHT TO ENGAGE IN GAY SEX WITH MY GIRLFRIEND. Just because we're not gay, that doesn't mean we shouldn't get to tell people that we have gay sex. I PROPOSE THAT ALL ANAL SEX NEEDS TO BE REDEFINED AS GAY SEX.

Sure, I could tell people that I have gay sex with my girlfriend, but it doesn't mean anything unless the definition of "gay sex" is changed. Telling people about our gay sex, without a redefinition, is like two homos in a "civil union" telling people they are married. Sure, it's PRETTY MUCH the same thing, but I need people to recognize that anal sex with my girlfriend is actually GAY SEX, just like the gays are having.

"BUT, WAIT! I'M NOT SURE IF GAY SEX IS THE SAME AS HETEROSEXUAL ANAL SEX! CAN YOU FURTHER CONVINCE ME?"

You're goddamn right I can. Anal sex is the only real sex that gays can even have. All lesbians can really do is a bunch of foreplay. Which seems about right. Any organ to organ penetration that can occur is anal sex. So it's pretty easy to rationalize referring to all butt sex as gay sex.

Fuck Fashion and Fuck You

I am entirely convinced that the fashion industry is one of the most worthless enterprises in America today. Why the fuck do you care what I'm wearing? I simply refuse to take fashion tips, let alone from someone who must regularly drain containers of antibiotic lube into his rectum. Just doesn't seem like a viable source for sound judgement to me. Still, these uppity little fags think they can get me to care about fashion by insulting my apathy toward spring fashion Faux Pas? I wish I could get them to develop a sense of humor by referring to them as useless cum pumps.

It's so sad to see the woman who gets pulled into this charade of the insecure. Just pick something to wear, you disgustingly aimless tribute to shamefaced conformity. You are a fucking moron. Also, anyone who attempts to pass fashion off as art is a goddamn asshole. After seeing the numerous "fashion comebacks" over the years, I think it's safe to say that not only is fashion NOT art, but it's cyclical in a manner that could be effectively predicted by some nerd's iPhone application.

I'm ALMOST convinced that there's a gay conspiracy involved. I'm sick of hearing gay men give straight chicks advice on their relationships. Unless she's asking for prostate-milking tips, some silly faggot has no fucking clue. I think these manipulative, green-eyed homosexuals are trying to drive straight women and men apart. Most likely in hopes that straight men will become SO overwhelmed with how annoying it is to deal with the hyper-expectant emotional-geysers the gay men programmed, that they're going to to crave a more literal "pain in the ass".

Let me clue you in on something, you awful, petty sluts: Despite what the homo at the salon says, you DON'T deserve better and men think it looks like a fucking retard dressed you.

But go ahead and do a spin for me, you goofy bitch...

Congrats on the cute outfit...

The Holy Grail of Porn

I'm going to take this time to discuss me some porn idealism. Now, that may cause a lot of crazy scenarios running through your head. Just calm down, Skippy. Lemme learn ya somethin'. I don't want to dirty such a graceful phrase as "porn idealism" with complicated visions of large black men wearing monkey masks plowing a pregnant teenager while retarded lesbian midgets attack her with fluorescent dildos. I'm talking about a more basic kind of beauty. I'm talking about the good ol' down-to-earth no-nonsense hermaphrodite-on-hermaphrodite sex. Nothing makes you wanna embrace the American dream as much as some hermy-hermy action.

Now, when you first think of a hermaphrodite, you may get a LITTLE squeemish. Don't worry about it. That's how your body knows that something's awesome. I know, you MAY find it hard to believe that there's a hermy out there for you. However, I can verify that not only is there a HOT hermy out there, but apparently there were TWO of them, and somehow some genius (who should probably be working for NASA) got both of these sexy hermies together and filmed them in what can only be described as a stunning tribute to sexuality. Bette Midler's "The Rose" should've been playing in the background of this movie.

Just imagine you see two hot blondes on a bed with 80's hair... They start touching each other softly, breathing and tasting one another's sensuality... Next thing you know, they both have both and you're looking at what can only be logically described as a hermy-pretzel... Cue-ing the background music...

♫ Some say love, it is a river
that drowns the tender reed
Some say love, it is a razor
that leaves your soul to bleed ♫

Then, suddenly, you're bearing witness to the legendary scissor-buttfuck combo... and the music gets louder...

♫ Some say love it is a hunger
an endless aching need
I say love it is a flower
and you it's only seed ♫

Can't you just FEEL the passion?

Just remember, kids: There's nothing inherently gay about hermy-hermy. As the great Stephen Colbert once surmised, "It can only be straight, double-straight or double-gay." So, if you're insecure with your heterosexuality, you might want to be careful of that scissor-buttfuck combo...

A Brief Commentary on Spousal Abuse

What kind of delusional bitch thinks that a man kissing her with his fist is a sign of his utmost affection? I need to meet one of these tragic little hussies. I doubt that will happen, though. I'm sure she is too busy appreciateing the force with which Hubby just burst her head through the bathroom wall. Now she can watch her stories in the living room while Captian Contempt still rubs Listerine into her fresh cigar burn-wounds from the bathroom. You are so lucky to have him, girl! I guess we willl never be together. At least, not until I discover her bloated masochist of a body floating down the river with so many bruises that I mistake her for the deceased Grimace.

"Looks like the drugs finally got the best of him..."

Tramp Stamps

Now, the idea of a Mark of Sluts sounds like a great idea, right? However, the problem is that not all of these chicks with so-called tramp stamps are actually tramps. This is cruel and misleading for men. I am thinking of ways that we could even further differentiate the real sluts from these poser "tramps". How are a bunch of confusing-ass segments of tangled ink called "tribal" supposed to help me determine your commitment to being a dirty little whore? It's not helping. I suggest that you cut to the chase and forgo those aforementioned complications in favor of a more direct message: Just tattoo some cum shots on your lower back. That's where they end up anyway. This way, the next time I'm unleashing my load on your back, I can get that gangbang feel without the anxious creep prodding me with a dick for his turn. And if I'm feeling extra frisky, I might just get so excited that I shoot my juice into a bowl with your name on it so I can watch you attempt to lap it up while I choke you from behind and scream German obscenities. It's all about making it easier for the tramp to tramp, you know?

However, the more I think about it, I am not sure if the cum shot tattoos are going to be sufficient enough for our beloved slut population. People simply need to know faster and easier that you're the kind of whore that doesn't want to give her vagina a breath. Maybe, now stick with me on this; maybe you get a dotted line tattooed around your entire waist. That way, you know where to start when you saw off your torso, and men will HAVE to know instantly that you're just a silly vagina with legs. Your brain will never be a burden again and you're guaranteed to lose weight.

"Ooooo, girl, you gonna be SO popular at the club this weekend!"

Fuck it. Use the blood for lubricant.

The Truth About Cleaning Your Car

There's no point to cleaning your fucking car unless you're trying to get laid. Like I give a shit if my drunk friends comment on how I need to clean my car. It's the princess little hos that think a clean car is somehow indicative of how good of a mate you are. Whatever, bitch. Then you're going to get all angry and defensive when I suggest you douche your cock-hole a little more often? Get off your high horse and help yourself to some of the french fries and ketchup so CONVENIENTLY scattered around the passenger seat. See, it's just plain practical, you hypocritical cunt.

That's no way to start a relationship anyway. Misleading a slut like that. If you end up keeping her around, it's just means that your dumbass committed to her perception that you give a goddamn about cleanliness. Now you're fucked. NOW you gotta keep that shit up or SHE'S going to think that YOU DON'T CARE anymore. Unbeknownst to this classy ho, you never cared in the first place and have simply just forgotten to pretend to care. Oof! Next thing you know, she's looking for a guy who "ACTUALLY CARES" about her and you have to start thinking of where to dispose of her body. Look at the fine mess you've gotten yourself into. MORE CLEANING UP.

My point is: admit that you're a worthless slob from the get-go. It might not get you laid, but you'll have a lot less body-disposal stress down the line. Part of the joy of being a bachelor is not giving a shit about what women think. I've learned to appreciate this only after being in a years-long living-together nag-torture GODDAMN-I-AM-SO-BORED-WHY-THE-FUCK-ARE-YOU-READING-A-BOOK-YOU-SILLY-BITCH situation. Their thought patterns are too complicated with shit that I simply have no desire to care about. It's too much work trying to understand how they come up with such ridiculous statements or questions. Stop asking me STUPID questions!

"Do you always have to masturbate while you drive?"

I'm not sure, bitch, but I have a feeling we will all be long dead before I start thinking about it...

Why Gay Men Have It Easy

There's something to be said for the fags. Granted, they are terrible people with sex-crazed minds, but are they really that much more terrible or sex-crazed than the rest of us? The answer is yes, but that's not the point. The point is: I'm a little bit jealous. They have effectively cut out the "middleman" between the male libido and random sex. As a man who likes to stick it in the front of females, we are all too familiar with the ridiculous "standards" of women and their incessant insistance on "treating" them "like a woman."

Whatever, bitch. It shouldn't take me 20 minutes to convince you to have sex in a gas station bathroom. By that time, we could've already done it and you could be back in the car thinking about how much of a dumb slut you are and how the experience for some reason gave you flashbacks of your retarded cousin, John-boy. It's not my problem you think I should fuck you in a field of rainbows and unicorns, you sad whore. Close your eyes and imagine we're doing it on the Prime Minister of Canada's shuffleboard court for all I fucking care.

Take a cue from the gay community and quit acting like such a prissy bitch while I bounce your pretty little head off the hand dryer. You suck.