dear i+i: between their moisturizer, shampoo, lip gloss, and perfume, most women smell like potpourri. it's gross. how do i convince a woman to go unscented?
sam: this would be refreshing if it were AT ALL believeable. because whenever a dude claims to want someone who is "natural," he means television cosmetic commercial natural, not REAL-LIFE sweat glands gingivitis dry lips smelly vagina natural. this is why i try to surround myself with homosexuals, because they understand and appreciate beautyyyy and glamourrrr. that is obviously written in jest, as i just looked at some tagged photos of myself (stop doing that to me) and THREW THE FUCK UP. barf. in my head, my face looks better than every picture of my face i've ever fucking seen. i have the goddamned opposite of whatever body dysmorphia makes 70 lb girls relegate themselves to one piece of broccoli and a handful of mini pretzels a day. SERIOUSLY, i'm always like "i like really good today" and then someone will post a picture and i'm all, "who the fuck is that hideously ugly bitch standing in the exact spot i was standing when he took this picture?!" this is how you know there is no god, because if there were cameras would do things like highlight your winning personality and sense of humor instead of your meaty skin beard and blotchy skin. OR a bitch would stop you on your way out the door for the evening and whisper, "not that shirt."
so back to this liar. women done up like drag queens are sort of icky and kinda look too messy and complicated for a man to snuggle up with, but i'm all about a woman feeling good about herself. i ALSO am all about thinking men have no concept of what maintenance is required when you've got ladyparts and that some bitches can't just "go unscented." not me, though. i'm the laziest piece of shit ever. like, i'll do the shit, but i won't really DO the shit. i smell really good and i take a shower most days, and i do enjoy having a tiny asian woman talk shit about me in asianese while ripping the cuticles off my fingers, but anything further than that is expensive and boring. so fuck it, i'm not doing that. OKAY, next time you go down on your ladyfriend and pull away with a mouthful of linen-scented pussy wash and fruity pubic hair conditioner and flowery body lotion look deep into her eyes and say, "baby, i much prefer the taste of trout that has been left to rot in the sun. cucumber melon peony freesia chanel #5 doesn't really complement vaginal excretions. I LIKE YOU NATURAL." then next time you get busy all you have to do is shut the fuck up and hold your goddamned breath when she and her braidable armpit hair and chin stubble and knee-length bush come strolling into the bedroom smelling like a billy goat. dirty hippie.
ian: Well this is without precedent. Not to alarm anyone, but I think I might actually agree with my colleague on this one. You are a dirty sickening hippie.
Not unlike the GOP, male sexuality professes to be the "big tent party" where all are welcome. In practice, however, there are pretty strict limits on what is permissible. Also like the GOP. Like your average member of the GOP, we want our ladies white and hairless as a bar of Ivory Soap® [yeah, we know you're 99 and 44/100ths pure, but we will think only of that cinched-corset thrill ride of that 56/100ths - it is the prospect of this fraction of you that makes us willing to feign monogamy]. And like the GOP, when we're out of town, we'll get super hammered and fuck a dude. Or a black hooker. Or a black hooker dude. This is how we come to have Michael Steele.
Which is not to say that there is not some freakish outlier subset that is into fucking anything you could conceive of. I have heard that in Japan, in addition to the squid porn we all know about [my hands are straining to type some weak-ass "greasy calamari" joke here, but I respect you too much and I'm not gonna do it, but you have no fucking idea what this is costing me - my hands, for real, are going all Evil Dead on me, here - they're seriously just gonna do it on their own, so if you read on to find that any kind of hack shit about how I wouldn't wanna frequent that sushi bar, or about it makes the American stripper trick with the ping pong balls seem pretty minor league, just know it's cause I've passed out from the strain and my hands are doing it on their own, unbidden by yours truly] there are men who will pay handsomely to lie down in a hammock wrought entirely of the braided pit hair of Japanese chicks in those schoolgirl sailor uniforms they're so into over there.
And if you google "Bavarian porn", you'll get like 80 pages of links to German skat vids that, if you take your fucking sanity into your hands and watch any one of them, are the surest goddamn guarantee that you will never again eat another fucking Baby Ruth Bar®. Ever. Especially one that's warm and melty, like after it's been sitting on a beach chair for a while.
But for every guy who only grows turgid watching cat fight reenactments of tank battles in the North African campaigns of WWII, there's a million dudes who can't hang with that level of complexity. For every guy that pops a crotch sweat over chicks pushing bundt cake in their faces while smoking calabash pipes in Where's Waldo? sweater, glasses, and hat - and nothing else - there's a million more of us who lack this degree of specificity.
Listen: all the goddamn ink that's spilled each year on every conceivable permutation of the WHAT DO MEN WANT? question that seems to fucking haunt you ladies so bad is wasted. Lemme break it down for you. Ready? Here it comes - in one fucking bullet point:
so back to this liar. women done up like drag queens are sort of icky and kinda look too messy and complicated for a man to snuggle up with, but i'm all about a woman feeling good about herself. i ALSO am all about thinking men have no concept of what maintenance is required when you've got ladyparts and that some bitches can't just "go unscented." not me, though. i'm the laziest piece of shit ever. like, i'll do the shit, but i won't really DO the shit. i smell really good and i take a shower most days, and i do enjoy having a tiny asian woman talk shit about me in asianese while ripping the cuticles off my fingers, but anything further than that is expensive and boring. so fuck it, i'm not doing that. OKAY, next time you go down on your ladyfriend and pull away with a mouthful of linen-scented pussy wash and fruity pubic hair conditioner and flowery body lotion look deep into her eyes and say, "baby, i much prefer the taste of trout that has been left to rot in the sun. cucumber melon peony freesia chanel #5 doesn't really complement vaginal excretions. I LIKE YOU NATURAL." then next time you get busy all you have to do is shut the fuck up and hold your goddamned breath when she and her braidable armpit hair and chin stubble and knee-length bush come strolling into the bedroom smelling like a billy goat. dirty hippie.
ian: Well this is without precedent. Not to alarm anyone, but I think I might actually agree with my colleague on this one. You are a dirty sickening hippie.
Not unlike the GOP, male sexuality professes to be the "big tent party" where all are welcome. In practice, however, there are pretty strict limits on what is permissible. Also like the GOP. Like your average member of the GOP, we want our ladies white and hairless as a bar of Ivory Soap® [yeah, we know you're 99 and 44/100ths pure, but we will think only of that cinched-corset thrill ride of that 56/100ths - it is the prospect of this fraction of you that makes us willing to feign monogamy]. And like the GOP, when we're out of town, we'll get super hammered and fuck a dude. Or a black hooker. Or a black hooker dude. This is how we come to have Michael Steele.
Which is not to say that there is not some freakish outlier subset that is into fucking anything you could conceive of. I have heard that in Japan, in addition to the squid porn we all know about [my hands are straining to type some weak-ass "greasy calamari" joke here, but I respect you too much and I'm not gonna do it, but you have no fucking idea what this is costing me - my hands, for real, are going all Evil Dead on me, here - they're seriously just gonna do it on their own, so if you read on to find that any kind of hack shit about how I wouldn't wanna frequent that sushi bar, or about it makes the American stripper trick with the ping pong balls seem pretty minor league, just know it's cause I've passed out from the strain and my hands are doing it on their own, unbidden by yours truly] there are men who will pay handsomely to lie down in a hammock wrought entirely of the braided pit hair of Japanese chicks in those schoolgirl sailor uniforms they're so into over there.
And if you google "Bavarian porn", you'll get like 80 pages of links to German skat vids that, if you take your fucking sanity into your hands and watch any one of them, are the surest goddamn guarantee that you will never again eat another fucking Baby Ruth Bar®. Ever. Especially one that's warm and melty, like after it's been sitting on a beach chair for a while.
But for every guy who only grows turgid watching cat fight reenactments of tank battles in the North African campaigns of WWII, there's a million dudes who can't hang with that level of complexity. For every guy that pops a crotch sweat over chicks pushing bundt cake in their faces while smoking calabash pipes in Where's Waldo? sweater, glasses, and hat - and nothing else - there's a million more of us who lack this degree of specificity.
Listen: all the goddamn ink that's spilled each year on every conceivable permutation of the WHAT DO MEN WANT? question that seems to fucking haunt you ladies so bad is wasted. Lemme break it down for you. Ready? Here it comes - in one fucking bullet point:
- What do we want from you? Don't fucking frighten us. Blam. There. Done.
So. You know. Summer's Eve®, or whatever you gotta do. Because for every Unscented Dirty Hippie like this cat, there's a majority of us that don't wanna die in that foxhole.
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