When Reality Attacks

Sorry, dear readers. Reality sometimes even seeps in to fantasy lands like our beloved island. Due to a high level of douchebaggery (™ Roadtripper) seen displayed by members of Team Testosterone (once again, ™ Roadtripper), I can't even bring myself to enjoy the rippling muscles and dimpled smiles of island inductees. Maybe next week... I am too busy licking my wounds right now.

And, like a true friend, Bad Wolf is standing strong against Team Testosterone with me. Too bad she doesn't live closer. We would have a hell of a time getting drunk off cheap wine and fashioning voodoo dolls in the douchebag's likeness.

Dirtbag Alert: The Pickup Artist

I spent this Sunday trying to regain my sanity after an invasion by out-of-town relatives. Complete sensory overload the last few days led me to loll on the couch and watch my DVR recordings that have been piling up over the last few weeks.

The worst guilty pleasure? The second season of VH-1's "The Pickup Artist". Ladies, arm yourself against stealth attacks by drunken idiots in bars by watching this ridiculous show. There are men out there who actually buy in to this drivel. The show centers on turning lovable geeks with no game in to so-called "ladies' men". Too bad their tutor is a former magician called Mystery who advocates wearing black nail polish, goggles, feather boas and top hats as a way to lure the ladies in. He calls it "peacocking"; I call it "dressing like a moron." Mystery teaches the use of winning opening lines such as:

"Let me ask you a question: Would you ever sleep with a guy named Herman?"
"Hey... did you see the fight outside?" (when there was no fight)

Of course, I will probably just be accused of "negging" him but I declare an official Dirtbag Alert on anything Pickup Artist-related.

Oh yeah... you are so sexy! Hold me back. No, really... hold me back, please.

Want real advice on the art of seduction? Just watch my beloved Jon Hamm's skit on SNL. Sadly, this comedy skit is way sexier than anything that goofy magician could offer up.



Or, perhaps even better, Captain Kirk's Guide to Women:

Dirtbag Alert: The Aging Frat Boy

I hated frat boys in college. I only went to their damn parties for the free booze. As I sipped my Pabst Blue Ribbon in a smokey corner surrounded by grunting drones in pukka shell necklaces and Abercrombie cargo shorts, I kept telling myself that someday I would be out in the real world with real men whose life's ambition couldn't be found at the bottom of a beer bong.




Fast forward almost a decade to discover that the guys really haven't changed much. There is a another breed stalking poor unsuspecting women in bars. The Aging Frat Boy still roams in packs. They still tell fart jokes and quote Adam Sandler and Ben Stiller movies with glee. And they still wear those damn pukka shell necklaces and cargo shorts!

But that isn't the worst part. They never reach for their wallets when the bill comes; dates usually end in a half-ass offer to go Dutch. That is, if they even plan an actual date anyways; most of the time it comes down to "Why don't you come over and watch a movie?" (ladies... we all know what that is frat boy-ese for.) When this is all pointed out, they usually fall back on the old stand by of "Well, isn't this what you womens' libbers wanted?" Okay... where is the mens' lib then? If women are becoming more self-sufficient and taking over traditional male roles, why do the men throw temper tantrums and accuse you of emasculation when asked to be more compassionate and caring? I don't want to have to bring home the proverbial bacon, fry it up in the pan and then spend an hour cleaning the kitchen afterward while an aged frat boy sits on the couch playing the latest version of World of Warcraft.

Thanks, but no thanks. Dear Readers... I offer you a glimpse in to my future:

You Cry :: I Smile

Recent text message received from a sleazy ex who was sleeping with me, his live-in girlfriend and half of Northern Virginia:

"Just so u know after 4 combat tours u r the worst thing ever happened to me."

Hmmmm.... guess he is still holding a grudge because I outed him to the poor girl who moved across the country to be with him. I hope he is reading this now so he knows that I think he is a joke. Did he think I would curl up in the fetal position and cry myself to sleep because he hates me now? Nice try, dirtbag, but I rejoice in the fact that you are lying in that lonely proverbial bed that you made for yourself. Thanks for the compliment... now go away!

Dirtbag Alert: Dante Moore

Dante Moore, a computer engineer who was fed up with being a nerd who got no play from the ladies, has taken it upon himself to write a "help" book for single women. The advice found in "The Re-education of the Female" (ugh... just typing that title made me break out in to hives): Learn how to cook man-friendly meals, do as you're told, stay pleasant and non-confrontational and, above all else, DON'T GET FAT!

Here is a little sample from his manifesto:

"The fatter you get, the more you decrease your potential single-man pool. Let me give you an example. When you go to the grocery store to shop, do you pick out the nastiest-looking, most rotten, smelliest fruit or meat you can find? Oh, you don't? Why not? . . . It's the same with men when they see baby elephant-sized, out-of-shape women."

Even better is:

"Here's a little secret, ladies: men never really ask for anything. They command. . . . And believe me, what you won't do, ten broads around the corner will."

Thank you, Mr. Dante Moore. Reading your vile excuse for advice made me vomit. Looks like I found a new diet plan. Maybe I should pick up a copy of your book, so every time I get the urge to eat, I can just read a passage and completely lose my appetite. Maybe I will lose the will to express my own opinions since I will be so weak from calorie deprivation. Then I can be really skinny and submissive and get a domineering, arrogant douchebag like you for a boyfriend.

Dirtbag Alert: The Angry White Guy Edition

Meet Roy Den Hollander, Angry White Guy

Hollander is currently suing Columbia University for the abolishment their namby-pamby women's studies courses, claiming that it is unconstitutional to use government funds to preach religious beliefs. What religious belief?, you ask. "Feminism"! (His use of apostrophes...not mine). Feminism is now an option for religious preference?... shit... if I'd have known that, I would have had that stamped on my dog tags instead of the boring ol' No Pref.

His other case, where he took on the plight of the poor male who is forced to pay bigger cover charges at clubs on designated ladies' nights, is still pending. In addition to being a douchebag, Mr. Hollander is also a lawyer who specializes in male discrimination cases. His entire law firm is dedicated to "battle the infringement of Men's Rights by the feminists and their allies".

STFU, Mr. Roy Den Hollander!

I have absolutely zero sympathy for The Angry White Guy. All their whining about how minority special interest groups are ruining the world with their liberal agenda. Yeah... it must be really hard for the white man to get by these days. My heart breaks for you all. Not only do men hold the majority in every sector of business, government and industry in this country... but then they have to shell out $10 to get in to a bar. The horror!

What really cracks me up is that ladies' night really is for men anyways. The entire concept of ladies' night it to lure women in to the bar for the guys. Why isn't there a mens' night? Because the men are already there. This isn't a case of discrimination; it is an example of simple capitalism. The demand (created by men) for more women in bars and clubs is met by these establishments creating a lure for women.

The Angry White Guy prides himself on being an old fashioned, take-charge, no bullshit type of guy. He idolizes John Wayne. He wishes we could all just go back to the time where women were ladies and men were real men.

So, I ask you this, Angry White Guy: Would John Wayne throw a hissy fit because he was asked to pay $10 to get in to a club while his date only had to pay $5?

Hell no! John Wayne would man up. He would slap down a $20, tell the door attendant to keep the change while calling her honey and pinching her on the ass.

Newsflash to all Angry White Guys out there: you can't have your cake and eat it too. Either be a crybaby or be a real man. And real men don't whine... or sue!

Way to represent the ol' US of A!

I never knew the old man had it in him. All these years... I would have pegged him as a tits man.

Dirtbag Alert

John Edwards admitted to carrying on an affair with another woman while his wife was battling cancer. Seriously?!? What could possibly make a man go out and chase tail while the woman he claims to love is fighting for her life?

**Disclaimer: I have to own up to voting for this man twice. I was a NC resident when he ran against Lauch Faircloth for the Senate in 1998. I voted for him again in 2004 when he ran with John Kerry. Man... I can never pick the good ones... even when it comes to politics!

I work in a male dominated career field so I get to see this dark side of men. I hear them regale the office with stories of how great their wives are, how they are so very much in love with them and what marvelous cooks/mothers/housekeepers/lays they make.

Then we leave town to go on business trips. The very same men will head straight down to the bar to pick up a sweet unsuspecting young thing for a night of debauchery.

Is monogamy really that out of vogue these days? Are these men seriously that hard up to get laid? Why do they even bother getting married if they are going to continue on with this behavior?

My friend Christen posted this on her website. I hate to crib from her but this is too irresistible!

RIP Sleazy M

You are officially no longer a part of my life
I would have made this claim a few months back
But you were always lurking in the shadows
Trying to engage in combat by glaring
Man of war that you are
I thought you would pick a better weapon

A man of many faces
The upright family man trying to lead the perfect life
With the perfect girlfriend
And the perfect house

Other women saw another face
The lecherous man sitting on a bar stool
Luring women back to your perfect home
Promising them a perfect lay
Cheap thrills
Getting off on the knowledge
You were getting away with a whore
In the damn near marital bed

Then there was the third face
For the girl who was not quite the perfect girlfriend
Not quite the whore
You made me think I was this force you couldn't resist
That I was something special
Something enchanting

But in fact
You just made me another one of your whores

You told me I could never be the perfect girlfriend
And yet you kept sniffing around
Like the dog you are

When the covers got pulled back
And your most frequented whore exposed the truth
You were indignant
How dare the whore have her day!

Now your perfect girlfriend
Is putting the pieces back together
Without you.
She will be fine
And make the perfect girlfriend
For someone else.

Your whore is fine too
Ready to move on
You taught her that she is still capable of feeling something
I can dig through the shards of hatred in my heart
And remember how I felt
That I actually felt
Something
Wasted emotion, yes
But emotion nonetheless

You, on the other hand, are not fine.
Maybe you will realize this next week
Now that the perfect house is sold
And the perfect job is abandoned
Maybe sitting in the cold reality
Of your parents' basement
You will realize that you are a lonely forty year old man
With nothing.

She is fine

I am fine

You are not

Nothing but a forty year old man
With no one to love
No friends
No job
Clinging to a childhood dream of being a super hero
Puffed up with hot air
The only thing to keep you company are
The stories that you think make you the talk of the party
But you live in a basement
Alone

Let this thought ricochet
Through your head
Through what is left of your heart
Through the walls of that lonely basement

She is fine
I am fine
You are alone