Friday, December 2, 2011


I begin a lot of sentences by talking about jamming a dildo into my asshole and lately this behavior has garnered a slew of sideway glances and jaw-dropping horror from my lady friends. It’s possible that this has always been the case but it took me a while to notice it. It’s hard to give things your full attention when you’re eating a delicious plate of cheeseburgers. (Mmmm….cheeseburgers). Anyway, it got me thinking. What is a lady? This mystical creature that men seem to pine for. I’ve heard a lot about them and decided to put some effort into being one. I have zero ideas as to what being a lady actually entails. All I know is that I’m not doing it. I can tell because I’ve seen a lady before and men always treat them differently. The most common thing a man ever says to me is, “What’s your friend’s name?” Or, “Um…there’s mustard on your eyebrow.” Or, “How can you be sure it’s my baby?” Not exactly lady material. So I googled the word “lady” to see if perhaps I could change my ways.


Dress Nicely-Easy, pal.... Let’s not try to changes things all at once. I was thinking this would be more of a baby steps situation. It is fairly standard for me to realize, half-way through my work day, that I’ve got a hole in some part of my clothing. I’m known for dressing in rags and honestly, who has time to keep up with the Hollywood trends? Have you encountered a feather extension recently? It’s literally a feather that’s like stapled to your head or something. I can’t even tell you the amount of times I’ve found discarded animal parts in my hair but is that considered fashionable? Nooooo…… Apparently it’s only cool if you paid money for it and no animals were harmed in the process. I could never pull that shit off. Nor can I pull off A-line dresses or anything made out of silk. Or pants. Obviously. Pants and I have never gotten along. If being a lady involves wearing pants, you can count me out. It’s physically impossible

Look Good, Smell Good-I usually smell like cigs and look like hot garbage. There’s a period of about 8 minutes between the time I wake up and the time I’m in my Daewoo. I can’t be expected to wake up 8 minutes earlier just to push my way into the lady category. I have a mullet and have had it for years and no matter what I try to do to get rid of it, it remains. Also, in order to combat my cig smell, I’ve attempted to use anti-bacterical gel which ultimately just has me smelling like alcohol, yet it lacks the alluring charisma that comes from me being actually drunk.

Choose Your Words-How about you suck ma dick?

Ugh, that’s enough. Acting like a lady isn’t for me. Everybody knows that. When I was watching football, at the bar on Sunday, I was screaming at the television and shoveling fries into my mouth when my friend Brian leaned over and said, “You should teach a class on how to never get picked up by men.” He’s right. Listen, does my body size dictate that I’ll never find love in this world? Yes. Do I consider a bucket of fries a meal? Absolutely. (Mmmmm…..fries) Do I buy pregnancy tests in bulk in order to cut costs? Of course I do. Do people think of me as a lady? Certainly not. But at least I can find solace in the fact that I live in a world where pie is always for breakfast and the only reason I smell like alcohol is because I’ve been shotgunning beer for breakfast. And if considering beer as a breakfast item makes me less of a lady and more of a poster child for Alcoholics Anonymous, that’s perfectly fine with me. Lady this, bitch.


  1. You are all the lady I need! Love b Fagan

  2. I'm officially turned on. Gimme moar! -Nick