Sometimes one Dom isn't enough...

There are certain individuals in this world who just bring insanity and drama with them wherever they happen to go. If anyone has ever hung out with me on a night of steady to combative drinking, you would know that something fucked up usually happens to me or to someone I'm consorting with shortly thereafter. This night was no different.

I have a good friend out here in Vegas named Dominique, I know I usually don't use real names but it's just too uncanny. Seeing we didn't engage in anything illegal I figure it should be ok. She was actually my next door neighbor for like a year or something and the girl is a sweetheart. Dominique is your typical hot little 23 year old that every guy loses his shit over. I'd put a picture up so everyone could see what I'm referring to, but she has enough problems with men shadowing her as it is. She has a plethora of celebrity friends that blow her phone up constantly, had 3 separate birthday parties at 3 separate clubs in Vegas this year, and just about every hot chick in this city is friends with her. You can get in free anywhere just for being her friend, it's a pretty dynamic situation. Yes, she's “that” girl. The severity of her male following is actually quite real though. So real in fact that last night I was trying to convince her to buy a firearm for herself. She's got a very generous amount of stalkers, not to mention the new influx of nutbars that make her acquaintance when we want to go out and poor alcohol into our face. They're everywhere and for whatever reason always appear to be multiplying. Albeit, the lovely Ms Dom often times subconsciously (or even consciously) eggs it on with her seductive verbal phrasing and body language. You girls know what you're doing when you go out, so therefor you know what I'm referring to.

Dom called me up last night to give me her new number (I think it had to do with stalker issues or something as I mentioned before) and we got to talking.

Dominique- “What are you doing?”

Dom- “I am getting fucked up and about to go to the spa.”

Dominique- “I want to get drunk in the spa too but I need company.”

Dom- “So come over.”

Dominique- “I have my daughter.”

Dom- “Fine, I guess I'll have to come over there.”

I should've known that although her intentions were to chill out and drink in the spa, that it wasn't going to happen. In fact, I don't think I've ever just kicked it with her and not gone anywhere or done something relatively big on the spur of the moment. Ten minutes after I arrive we were apparently going to some shithole bar called the “Cactus Cantina.” I should've fucking known what was to come just from the name. Also, I do not have my wallet with me because I am retarded and left it at home, which is just something to make a mental note of at this point.

And so begins our story...

It is myself, Dominique, and her brother as we enter this bar that etiquette and style forgot. It was mostly filled with those wanna be rapper types, both black and white respectively. You all know what I'm talking about. Big stupid bright colored shirts like yellow, orange, green, and purple, paired with equally ridiculously colored pants with Timberland boots. It was like a big ghetto clown show, all that was needed was the funny car and some make up. I even overheard some of these anthropoids having freestyle contests and such. And let me just interject with something here real quick for those of you who actually do this in public. You all suck. Seriously. I have been listening to hip hop since I was in fifth grade and I can tell you that there is a very real reason as to why none of you have albums. Again, it's because you all suck. I truly wished you would just go home and kill yourselves but you won't. You keep infecting my watering holes with your idiocy, not that this place is necessarily “mine” it was just something close by I guess but you all need to die.

Moving on, the three of us migrate to the back of the bar where we won't be bothered by “a tribe called quest”, and order some drinks. Words were spoken:

Dom- “Jack and coke please.”

Bartender- “We're out of Jack Daniels....”

*record skips; life as we know it pauses*

Dom- “What?”

Bartender- “Yeah man, we're actually out of Jack.”

Dom- “Are you fucking kidding me? How does a bar in Las Vegas, Nevada run out of Jack Daniels? How is that even a fucking possibility? How do you sleep at night?”

(at this point the bartender becomes the lowest human being I've ever known, plus as we'll find out later, he's also fucking stupid.)

Bartender- “We have Jim Beam.”

Dom- “Yeah, well I don't like Jim Beam. Just give me a crown and coke then. You do have crown don't you?”

Bartender- “Yeah, last bottle.”

Dom- “Big surprise.”The bartender looked like Bruce Willis bald, but with down syndrome.

I turn to Dominique and tell her this bar sucks. I also state this to her brother, whereas he laughs. I am officially in an alternate realm of reality where Jack Daniels ceases to exist, I'm surrounded by G Unit, and the only hot chick in the room came with me. WTF? Plus I don't have my wallet so she's picking up the tab, which I of course tell her I'll repay, where then she exclaims, “shutup and drink!” Who am I to argue with this logic?

[sidenote: Dominique and her brother were actually robbed by two moon crickets (that is my uncomplimentary term for black people that I do not like) that afternoon for about $400 or so. It's one thing to honestly forgot your wallet but I felt extra bad borrowing money from friends when they were just robbed hours prior.]

The drinking continues and we are now drinking Jager bombs, primarily because they are good. I throw about 3 of these back and am having a good time somehow. Dominique also throws about 3 of these back and we order more. Her brother decides we should play some pool so we go grab a table. It's one of those shitty tables that isn't even regulation. With the fact this place didn't even have Jack behind the bar, I was completely impressed when I found that the balls on the pool table actually rolled like balls were suppose to.

I walked to the restroom and as I was returning the bartender calls me back and gives me the next round of Jager bombs.

Bartender- “That'll be $6 bud.”

Dom- “Can't you just charge it to the table or tab or something? I don't have my wallet on me.”

Bartender- *gives me a look like I'm one of the other fellow degenerates populating his place* “Just pay the $6 man!”

Dom- “Are you fucking stupid? No, you know what, don't answer that. I just told you I don't have my wallet. Dominique is picking up the drinks for now, and she just tipped you over $40 for the first 2 fucking rounds (even though I told her not to) and you're gonna talk shit to someone she's here with over $6? You have got to be the dumbest fucking bartender I have ever met. These 3 Jager bombs should be free. I'll have her brother come back and pay for the drinks, you can no longer speak to me.”

I walked away just staggering from the mind-blowing ignorance that goes on at some of these places. I got this old ass bald headed fuckstick getting the red ass because he's incapable of starting a tab for the three of us and would rather openly badger me about six fucking dollars. It was at that moment that I felt like punching him square in the face making sure to have his nose explode with blood, but I decided not to because I try to act my age when I can.

Then it happened. One of the urbanites decided to come over and attempt to “spit game” to Dominique even though he had none. This is one thing I don't understand. Just because you may happen to be black does NOT mean that you know how to spit game. As a matter of fact, I have heard some of the absolute dumbest shit come out of the mouths of these hip-hopians than just about any other group in society. Upon my return I was treated to these tasty gems:

“Yo what up ma? How much to get wit chu da res uh da nite ya herd?” (apparently he wanted to compliment my friend by calling her a hooker)

“Aye aye shorty, what I gotta dew tuh call off ur bodyguards yo?”

“Gurl, whens u first came up in huur I said I gots ta just lik dat pussy.”

Yeah, seriously. Not only was this fucking jackass incapable of creating a comprehensive statement because he was one of those down south moon crickets that talked completely fucked up, but he honestly just came out with the most insulting things you can probably say to someone in hopes of pissing them off. Except that he was actually trying to get laid with what he was saying. I have very little doubt that this kind of shit might work with HIV infected Shaquanda back in Podunk, Kentucky but with any other normal human being it will inevitably end in epic failure. I thought it was at this point that I would have to fight him and champion the human species yet again, but despite all that, Dom's brother and I are diplomatic and just decided that if he put his hands anywhere on Dominique we would annihilate his existence. To my disappointment he did not, so he still is living and breathing to this day. If anyone sees him, please feel free to beat him mercilessly or fire a high caliber projectile at his face. He likes to wear white jackets and has one of those gay tattoo tear things that apparently mean you've taken life at some point. I am not impressed.

Then he tried to wager a $400 game of pool with me. I knew he was talking out of his ass and was just trying to start problems. I knew this piece of shit didn't even have $400. You know how I knew? Because he was a piece of shit.

Dom- “Let's see the $400.”

Eggplant- “Iz in muh car dawg.”

Dom- “.......let's see the $400.”

Eggplant- “yo, I sez itz in muh car dawg.”

Dom- “So go fucking get it!”

Of course he walks away and doesn't return for like 20 minutes and when he does it's just to talk to Dominique again. Although saying “talking” would be giving him far too much credit on the evolutionary scale. This was one of those individuals whose mother you want to punch in the vagina merely for giving birth to him, (Maddox would call this the "ovarian delight.") by accident I'm sure, but I still blame her anyway. It was right around this time that I just felt like shooting everyone here and putting them out of their ignorant misery.

Dominique- “What should we do Dom, this guy is scaring me.”

Dom- “Yo, don't be scurred yo.” *I throw up westside for fun*

Dominique- “No seriously, I think he's going to try something.”

Dom- “He might, but I think your brother and I can take him without incident.”

Dominique- “What if he has other people jump in?”

Dom- “I don't know, you're the one who wanted to take your car. My car has lots of guns in it for just such occasions like this. Pull one of those things out of the console and we can steal these people's clothes and burn them!”

Dominique- “Damnit, we shoulda took Dom's car!”

Quick focus point:

If any of you have ever seen the news on why so many urbanites get shot all the time by their own people, this is how it starts. I am white and was ready to shoot everyone here in a matter of less than an hour, mostly just for being stupid, ignorant, or saying asinine things and trying to infect me with it. Right now I hate everybody and feel a murderous rage is imminent.

Ok, so her brother and I decide that we're just going to walk out and see what happens. Before doing so, her brother decides to tell the bartender to walk outside with us. I wasn't quite sure what that was going to do, but whatever. We get up and proceed to walk outside and without skipping a beat, buckwheat gets up and starts to give chase. I stretch my neck and get the duke boys ready (those are my fists), however the Neanderthal bartender actually did something and senor Cricket never made it out front. But the damage is done, Dominique is plastered and is on her way to downward spiral of mayhem.

I can tell you that the next part of this epic tale consisted of us going to a gentleman's club called “Penthouse” here in Vegas, although I think it's Crazy Horse III now according to the sign. Nothing of any literary substance transpired here except for the fact that I am still in my board shorts and sandals with a tshirt on and they let me walk right in due to the company I was keeping. It's truly amazing sometimes what the right person within your entourage is capable of attaining for the group. We went here to visit a friend of hers, it became very anti-climatic, and we vacated shortly thereafter.

And now comes the aftermath. Dominique's bill was coming due for her impetuous drinking and it was to take place at the Chevron station up the street.

Dominique- “Pull over, I feel sick.”

Brother- “Ok, hold on, here's a gas station, we're good.”

We get out of the car and she is still sitting in the passenger seat. I would estimate that about 3 seconds later the vomiting pyrotechnics arrive in a beautiful orange calamity of what looked like thick, orange tang. Please remember dear reader, that I am standing relatively close, still wearing my reef sandals, and pretty much barefoot aside from that. I thought I was going to be getting intoxicated in a spa this evening, but what you're reading was the inevitable result of something entirely different. The vomit is misting my feet and it is gross. Shortly thereafter Dominique arises from the passenger seat and begins bracing herself on the door, I am unsure as to why. I am watching her preparing for any subtleties that may preclude her for continuing to stand on her own and then it happened. Faster than I could react, the girl falls onto the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Dominique- “Dominic! I broke my leg!”

Dom- “You've done no such thing you just cut yourself on that rock right there.”

Dominique- “No, I can't move it! I am paralyzed!”

Dom- (I start laughing at this point) “Honey, you're fine, seriously. You cut yourself, it's a baby gash, just get in the car.”

I don't believe that anyone on this planet could've caught her in time to substitute the loud thud she made after crashing down. Of course, her brother and I helped her up but the hyjinx at this point are just too full of hilarity.

Dominique- “I'm taking my skirt off, its all dirty now.”

I can assure you that miraculously there wasn't one speck of dirt on the skirt she was wearing, but that was of no consequence. She immediately removed her skirt and threw it on the ground for lack of a better place. My friend is now standing there in a parking lot wearing a G string, laboring to get back into the car. I threw the remnants of her garments back in the vehicle when I realize that if any law enforcement entities were to arrive, it would be unavoidable that her brother and I would be going to jail for what would appear to be “date rape.” I immediately recommend that we make haste in our departure and save jail for another night. (The breakfast there sucks.)

We arrived back at the brother's apartment and Dominique is still walking around in her panties refusing to put her clothes back on. I decide to hang out for a few minutes to make sure she won't be needing medical attention. She didn't, and as I was attempting to leave, she got mad at me for my untimely departure, but the party has long since been over. I went home and climbed into bed realizing that I am starting another whole chapter of debauchery in a city that is truly a hybrid for making you forget your name and wondering how you lost your dignity the night before. Since I've moved here I believe my dignity has been lost about 5 times already. I just put ads on craigslist for it.

I love Vegas.

Learning to actually embrace failure...

(Not everything I write is about chicks I've fornicated with or how much alcohol I consumed in 3 hours time. I'm not going to lie though, that will probably end up being much of what you read here. However sometimes I actually write things to enlighten you in other ways.)

As I myself have gone to these court mandated alcohol group sessions many many years ago, Ive come across a plethora of people. Some of these people have been seemingly intelligent and just made a mistake, whereas others are complete dolts and will be losers the rest of their life. We all know these types of people after conversing with them for about ten minutes, sometimes even less time is needed. I'm telling you, after this experience of classes and such was over, the sheer magnitude of writing subjects I've had have been incredible. Id like to give you all a gentle comparison of how losers fail to set goals and how winners go about achieving greatness.

DOH!!! What sucks is that the above girl has obviously passed on and according to the tattoo will only be remembered for being an "altered beast."

I suppose it was about 5 or 6 years ago I met a complete idiot who sat in the corner and discussed his 3 Nevada DUIs and his 1 California DUI. When our group leader asked him what goals he had set for himself since this DUI occured, his reply was, "To successfully pass all my group sessions and get this program done with." This person is a complete moron and I'll illustrate the reason why. Completing the alcohol program we were in IS MANDATORY! That's not achieving anything. If you don't complete it you either pay more fines, get your license suspended for a longer period of time, or in some circumstances even do time in jail. I'm sure to this individual, going to work is an accomplishment. I'm sure to this fellow, taking showers and paying his rent are certified achievements and goals attained on a grand scale for dunces, worthy of bragging rights within his inner circle. These are not goals, they're obligations; some of you tend to get such things mixed up. Allow me to further elaborate for you.

Setting goals is when you actively look to achieve something that, in its very nature should produce a life-changing outcome. Usually the most common of these goals for the general age group reading this would probably be to graduate from a college or university and attain a degree for doing so. For others it could be transition to a higher paying career instead of being somewhat stuck in a dead-end job. Perhaps it could be saving up to move you and your family to a bigger home and a safer neighborhood. For others it could be sending their children to the best possible places for an education. If you're Dominic it could be getting off your duff and writing a book while also building up some online businesses and trafficking information. If you've been a reader of mine for a while and still come by to read the new topics I plaster on my site (which are usually of a more comedic subject matter), then you should be fully aware that a job and a career are two totally different things. The same is true with goals and obligations. Please don't confuse the two my gentle snowflakes.

Setting a goal may also be a mental projection of where you may find yourself a few years down the road. Acquiring wealth is often a big deal for most people. I myself only hope to achieve financial freedom, but I know that with that wealth is sure to follow in most cases. I'm fine with that, its one less thing I have to worry about in the future, and Ive planned for it. It is my greatest intent to truly have it be taking place in the next 5 years or so.

This girl/thing looks like Auschwitz footage. I bet you and I can tell her she's fat though, and she would totally agree (and I just might!) Her personal self-image is completely fucked, but how's yours?Truth be told, I'm a failure. This ideology is hard to believe if you've ever met me in person and actually held a real live conversation with me, but its true. I am indeed a failure. I have set so many goals and have failed at many of them. Others I haven't failed yet but I might. For the longest time this use to infuriate me because I'm a perfectionist and for a while didn't know how to handle failure, in fact I was petrified of failure. I felt that if someone failed at something they were unable to move forward in life because of it. As you become more familiar with real-life situations you'll find that the opposite is true. The more failure that I happen to come across in my personal life gives me such a wealth of knowledge Ive actually learned to embrace it. I learned that what Robert Fukosaki said in many of his books is true.

"Winners are people who embrace failure, losers are people who haven't failed enough."

I'm paraphrasing but the idea is pretty much dead-on. LOSERS ARE SCARED OF FAILURE!!! Ive never met any successful people at anytime in my life that haven't failed a boat load of times before achieving their own successes. This includes millionaires, billionaires, real estate tycoons, stockbrokers, doctors, financial investors, determined mothers and fathers, and even owners of adult film corporations. Read about some people in life that you admire and I guarantee you they'll illustrate their failures vividly, whether it's in an autobiography or merely just an interview. Do you know why? Because success is impossible to achieve without failure, and you can quote me on that.

So Ive tied in how setting and attaining goals ultimately comes down to success and failure. Ive also verbally mentioned and have given examples of what real goals should and shouldn't be. Furthermore if nothing else, I think Ive explained why it takes many failures to achieve success. Here are some quick bullet points to help me illustrate this methodology further:

• Michael Jordan got dropped from his high school basketball team because his coach thought he wasn't talented enough
  
• John Kennedy Toole wrote what myself and many others think is one of the greatest pieces of fiction in all literature (Confederacy of Dunces) and every publisher of his time thought it was garbage and refused to print it. It wasn't until 10 years after his death (suicide) that it was printed posthumously from a third party and won the Pulitzer Prize.
  
• Thomas Edison made about 99 bogus light bulbs before he made his first successful one.
  
• Donald Trump went bankrupt shortly after becoming a billionaire and within a few short years after that rebuilt his empire bigger and better than it ever was prior.
  
• Colonel Sanders took his fried chicken recipe to independent restaurants (and in the beginning, gas stations) in Kentucky because he knew he had a great product, through and through. He stipulated a 5 cent commission for every chicken that restaurant sold. He attained 600 franchises in a few short years and later sold his business for 2 million dollars at age 65.

I think in the grand scheme of things, everything counts. All of your successes and maybe even more so, all of your failures. I think its very much needed to achieve greatness. Through my failures I have learned a great deal about real estate, maneuvering within the stock market, lenders, mortgages, insurance, sociology, psychology, love and relationships, computer engineering, e-marketing and e-commerce, contracts, the entertainment field, physical fitness, and even intimacy. Ive failed and learned from each and every one of the above professions or subjects and have become that much more proficient with each. There's also a multitude of other things I'm not bothering in mentioning because this is to be an article, not a chapter in a book.

Sometimes (a lot of times) things don't go our way. We put so much vested interest and time into one thing just to have it explode in our face. What's truly sad is that most people will have that happen, and just give up at every single solitary dream they ever imagined for themselves. However there's a select few that will take that failure for what it is, an incredible learning experience, and move on that much more determined and have that much more knowledge and wisdom because of it. I've said it before and Ill say it again for shock value, knowledge isn't power, applied knowledge is power. It is one of my greatest aspirations for all the people in my life, and for those who read what I publish online, to achieve great success and to overcome the failure that will inevitably stand in their wake.

Don't worry about what others think and say, just go out there and create a life for yourself that you'll be smitten with living. Shut up and start producing greatness!

The Coitus Articles...

These are all pre and post sexual conversations I've had from past encounters with randoms as well as some exes. They're actually pretty funny when I reflect back on them. I suppose everyone else should enjoy them too so I figured I'd post it up for the reader's enjoyment for once. I will admit I have a pretty creative imagination at times, however this stuff is too far outside the spectrum of anything I could conjure up mentally and write about. What you'll find below is exact verbatim, as there is absolutely no way I could ever forget what was said at that exact moment. Even though on certain occasions I seriously have tried. I know we as men have probably said some pretty fucked up things to women in the past, but the below excerpts have blown even my mind.

I don't remember how I met this girl, I just knew that she was a cancer survivor and called me a lot, but for the life of me I can't remember even giving her my number or even what her name was anymore.

Her: "I really needed to meet you Dominic, I was beginning to think that I may never find anyone 'NORMAL.'" (she used air quotes there)
Dom: "What does that mean exactly? Normalcy is different for everyone."
Her: "I don't know my family's weird. Both my parents are cousins."
Dom: ".........................what the fuck?!"
Her: "Yeah, but they're really distant."
Dom: "There's no distance if your dad's cock was in his cousin's vagina and you were eventually introduced! I thought you looked a little odd but I couldn't place it. Good day to you."
Her: "No wait, its not like..."
Dom: "I said good day!"


This was an interesting exchange I had from a girl I met at a Barnes and Nobles and later took out that same evening. I picked her up at home and met her dad at the door, exchanged pleasantries and left. The girl and I were having sex a few hours later and this gem shot from her mouth and killed my erection immediately.

Her: "Do you think my dad's hot? He always pops into my head during sex for some reason, haha."
Dom: [sarcasm]"Oh yeah, totally."
Her: "I know right?"
*I Stopped and drove the girl home, no callbacks, no second date, no drunk dial.*

The shit that I've heard women tell me before, during, and after sex can be cataloged with the best of many other guy's I suppose. It's weird, when you've actually dated a significant amount of females you tend to really find some major fucking nutbars out there who have obviously had a dark past and it all comes crashing down in the bedroom. Here are some more.

This was an excerpt from a girl I met in Malibu while she was on vacation from somewhere, I'm assuming middle America or something. We ended up hooking up and she requested I finish in the most natural of places.

Her: "Wow, you taste way better than most guys."
Dom: "Is that right?"
Her: "Yeah totally, most guys taste like horseradish and garlic."
Dom: "......I eat a lot of pineapple, enjoy your vacation."

(some guy was actually picking her up for dinner that evening as I was walking away. Poor schlub.)

This next one was definitely pre-coitus and during an oral exchange.

Dom: "You should really put that tongue ring to better use."
Her: "That's a bullshit urban legend that tongue rings enhance oral sex."
Dom: "Legend? No, its fact, I can assure you from past experience."
Her: "You're a fuckin' jerk!"
*she starts again and stops for second*
Her: "Don't say anything mean this time!!!"

The following was from a woman in her early 40's who had the body of a 20 something whom I had been fornicating with for months off and on. This age group is actually the norm for me sometimes as they truly want nothing.

Her: "Why don't you date girls in their 20's? Just curious."
Dom: "Who said I don't?"
Her: "Oh, cuz you should see my daughter, she's gorgeous."
Dom: "I like where this is going."

This next one was just a completely random surprise. We just got done doing naked cardio and she gets out of bed and walks over to her dresser.

Her: "Hey Dom, wanna do a line?"
Dom: "What?"
Her: "A line silly. This is some really good coke."
Dom: "I'm gonna pass, Pablo Escobar. I thought you might have been a tad bit skinny, but your extremely large implants kind of offset everything. In fact that's the whole reason I hook up with you. However snorting coke isn't one." (I still banged this girl for like another 6 months. I have issues.)

Then there's the girls that are so co-dependent they actually verbalize it instead of just displaying it from their behavior.

Her: "Do you respect me?"
Dom: "Ummm, sure."
Her: "That's good. My ex-boyfriend use to let all his friends have sex with me when I got drunk. It use to make me mad when I woke up in the morning."
Dom: "It is plain to see that your self-esteem has made leaps and bounds since then."

One time I got insanely drunk and after having intercourse with this particular girl (because it really doesn't matter what is said after the deed is done) in my drunked alter-ego, The Dommega, decided to spout off some random shit.

Dom: "I like your front butt." (For those not in the know I was commenting on her chest)

Her: "I prefer if you didn't call them that."

Dom: "I would prefer if you didn't talk so much."

Her: "I'm leaving."

Dom: "So."

I use to date an actress who had a 3-4 year stint on television. She had drug and depression problems (big surprise) and was apparently pregnant at some point with a past boyfriend and lost it due to her inane sniffing of tweek and smoking of glass which I hardly knew about till later. I believe she was also physically combative with her stomach area, but the girl was still gorgeous. Truly, I pick winners.

Her (crying): "I feel so bad about what happened all those years ago."
Dom: "What? With the kid and everything?"
Her (still crying): "Yeah, I'm a bad person."
Dom: "This is true, but if it was born he/she would be all fucked up and would be unable to function on a normal level, or even a sub par level of intelligence."
Her: "That's true."
Dom: "Wanna have sex again?"
Her: (sniff, sniff) "Yeah, ok."

The last photo I have of me as a decent human being. You can see that it is old. (circa 1983)

Either way, I'll probably be joining some of you in hell or purgatory at some point. I'm not sure how the decision is made or how the time is delegated, but I have a feeling I'll be at one or the other. Leave the light on for me, I fall a lot in the dark.

It's called fucking hygiene ladies!!!

Ladies, don't embrace the scent of the above individual. It doesn't become you.A friend of mine [John] was in Vegas this week for business reasons, waiting for the pleasure segment his last night. While staying at his hotel he met one girl working in a jewelery shop and another one elsewhere who had just separated from her husband 2 days prior. Certainly the makings for an eventful evening when I was first described the situation, and as the evening ensued it was the girl from Puerto Rico who's acquaintance I would be making shortly thereafter. I was asked to be the wingman for this particular venture, and because he's a friend of mine I happily agreed. The only problem with such things is I've lessened my tolerance for jumping on grenades the older I've become and wasn't looking forward to having to do it again this evening. But when the chips are down and the cards don't fall in a pleasing and beneficial order, one is forced to do what they must for a friend. Fine.

The designated rendezvous point was Kahunaville. It was a decent halfway point and because they were unable to get into LAVO, which won't surprise you as you read further, this was just a quick way to meet up and go elsewhere. Seeing we both had an imperative need to take a piss, we ran into the restroom right across from the bar and upon exiting, it happened. It was like a frag grenade of the absolute worst odor I have ever encountered, save for that of rotting flesh which I've ran into while having to work in the morgue at the hospital when I was 18 for about an hour a day. The only way to accurately describe it would be like walking into a steamroom that has collected the most foulest of odoriferous eminations from every spectrum of musk imaginable, while also visiting the smell of about 20 transients genitals and perhaps a dead carcass that had been sitting in the sun for 3 weeks atop its own extracted fecal matter. This assault on the nostrils came immediately after the funk had caught up with her walking from wherever they were and then stopping in front of the bar. If you've ever watched a classic Pepe Le Pew episode and saw what his nauseous fumes did to passers by, then you would be right on par with what I was suffering through. This alien odor was coming from two of the girls, however the girl from the Ukraine had by far the most violent of the two. It was like she was a master of all that is unholy and horrid in existence and had a battering ram into my soul to infect me with it.

It would be too simplex to state that this had miraculously happened from lack of deodorant/anti-perspirant. No, this had come from not bathing, nor washing your musky vagina, sweat from the heat outside, rancid ph levels found in the body chemistry, and I guess perhaps trying to secrete every possible ghastly pheromone the female body could muster in an amazonian jungle environment where swinging from vines and hunting wild vermin for survival would come into play. Satan would banish the shear essence itself from hades if it were to ever reach him, and that would be if he wasn't pissed about something else. The holy trinity would come together and join forces and cancel rapture if they knew that humans were capable of such a bouquet of filth. She was so ripe that the below image isn't even scratching the surface of the menacing incursion taking place on my olfactory senses.

I WISHED that was all that was wrong with this girl. I would imagine the smell wouldn't have been so completely overbearing.

Plus for some reason she was expecting me to be a gentleman to her and hold open doors instead of letting them slam in her face. Really? You got hands sweetheart, stop that swinging door from bashing your melon because I'm not going to. I was trying to put you out of my misery. This was also expected at my vehicle when we dropped them off at Mandalay Bay which I found incredulous. The fact that I let this rabid mutant in my car with her friends was a miracle in and of itself, primarily because I wanted John to hopefully hit the cute one later. However to get her back I made sure all the windows in the vehicle were rolled down while on the freeway. Her pleas of “I'm cold! Can you roll up window?” (yes that's how she spoke) were completely ignored, and with a hint of satisfaction I might add. I took my vanilla tree car freshener completely out of its cellophane wrapper upon exiting my vehicle. What a dirty animal.

It became John and I's business to completely leave these girls alone the rest of the evening. The smell was far too great and the whole profound entitlement this disgusting and irritating excuse for a chick had during her tenure in my company was not only irritating but also completely appalling. When you have invisible fumes coming off of your body like Pepe Le Pew, how on God's green Earth do you expect anyone to do anything for you for any reason whatsoever? The amazing thing was however, after arriving at the “Eye Candy Visual Lounge and Bar” drunken males in our absence were actually going up and talking to her and the other funkdubious accomplice of the night. It was then that I found that the err of my gender is just so far outside the scope of logical thought and common decency that I realized this is probably why she doesn't practice regular hygiene. Evidently, it doesn't matter. The other thing that threw me was that she just plain wasn't even hot. European girls have a different look. They're not like the cover girl model types we've come to love in the states, they're far from it. But many are still very capable of retaining their feminine attractiveness on a level that can't really be described. I hooked up with a girl from St. Petersburg once a few years back and she was hot, but not American girl hot. Those of you who've been following along this far know what I'm referring to if you've ever gone out with a European girl at some point.

With all that said and done, the bottom line is that ladies, fucking take care of yourselves. Wash yourselves, shower, clean your vaginas if need be, eliminate every possible odor that can emanate off of your body and violate everyone around you. Also, if you're from another country, great; every American's roots are. But godamnit you will learn to bathe and cleanse yourself when you arrive on my shores of freedom. I do not care that this is a free country and that you can do what you want, that freedom is expressly implied to be “within reason.” Furthermore, to be honest when I was in Cali a week ago, I actually ran into this putrid practice with other girls who happened to cross my path at bars, restaurants, etc. Why the fuck is this becoming more common! Go wash your ass!! Maybe you should just fill a bathtub up with lysol and comet and just soak for a few days and kill everything growing on you and in you. This should not be a public service announcement on my site it should be common sense that you learned in health class like in 1^st grade along with brushing your teeth!!

I hope as time goes on the majority of you will start to comprehend my disdain for the human condition as well as the species as a whole.

Perez Hilton; next victim of DudeBro...

When did anyone ever start taking this fat, ugly slop of shit seriously? I've flushed better looking things than this.Now I really don't watch beauty pageants nor do I even take the slightest interest as to their content, (except maybe the swimsuit part) but this thing that happened a few weeks ago really got a lot of press so I'm going to jump on it and address a certain little drag queen bitch who felt the need to attack someone ELSE'S beliefs because they were not aligned with his own. Certain things need to be addressed here and it shouldn't come from some jack ass who's opinion is that which speaks for the idiots who peruse his site. Let's get right to it.

“She gave the worst answer in pageant history. She lost because she’s a dumb bitch, okay?”

That was a direct quote from Mr Hilton himself (and I use that term as loosely as humanly possible) shortly after the pageant was over. Nothing brings my piss to a boil more than an idiot who seriously thinks they're somehow important and who over exaggerate their own relevance on this planet. A very mature response for someone so much in the public eye, don't you think? This is coming from an actual pageant judge who apparently had such a bias against people voicing opinions that aren't directly juxtaposed congruently with his own, that he went ahead and starting posting video blogs directly after the incident. When did this no talent hack become so important that people actually started caring about the garbage that is constantly being spewed from his mouth? I know he writes a celebrity gossip blog which I suppose some would actually consider “legitimate writing” (and if you do you should probably just shoot yourself in the face, as I can't see you being much use here) but come on, seriously? I can only assume that his fan base consists of teeny bopper retards and people who find tabloids to hold some semblance of merit. I mean, who else is going to read that kinda shit? I would estimate those who have no life and need to live theirs through the eyes and interactions of others.She enraged Perez Hilton which makes her a friend of mine

Here's something else he said that I will paraphrase to give you an idea of the type of mind this idiot has.

“This was a competition and if you want to win a competition you have to answer certain questions appropriately to move on. She didn't answer those questions appropriately and she lost.”

Or some rendition of the above. I applaud Ms. California on her answer because she spoke her mind. She said what SHE believed in and did what she felt was right by her. She didn't give a fuck that Ms Perez was gay or that he might take offense to her response. This is AMERICA! In this country we're allowed to say and believe in whatever we want. We're not going to walk on eggshells just because someone may believe in something we do not or vice versa. Ms California was not going to LIE in a beauty pageant, on a national forum and sacrifice her morals and ideals to suit that of judge number 8, which is essentially what he would have liked. And before someone interjects with the whole, “she posed semi nude in some magazine a few years prior to the pageant Dom!” I already know that, and she would not have won anyway based on that simple fact. However this in and of itself is a separate issue.

Not everyone is going to be on board with the whole gay marriage thing, it's just not going to happen. Frankly, I myself am getting a little sick of everyone hating on the people who don't. As individuals we're not always going to see eye to eye on things. If we did there would be no such thing as diplomacy. Change takes time but when you're constantly crucifying people who aren't subjectively aligned with your own personal beliefs or your cause, you are going to suffer catastrophic blows because of it. Muslim extremist want everyone to believe what they believe, and if you choose not to they have no problem extinguishing your life. Sure, that's an “extreme” point of view, of course, but it still serves a pressing point, which is the acceptance of ignorance on a grand scale. (Coincidentally I've seen the 72 virgins and they're all obese computer nerds.)Hey Perez, tell this crazy asshole you don't like his beliefs and that Islam sucks ass.

People are going to look at the situation from their side first and if all you have to say is:

“Fuck you for not believing what I believe. Fuck you for not being ok with my gay rights movement. Fuck you for not lying about your own discontent with my cause and telling me exactly what you think instead. It hurts my feelings and I think you're a piece of shit because of it. Fuck you!!!”

Any tirade like the one above is going to fall on deaf ears there, sunshine. If you're going to speak out on a cause that you hold near and dear to your heart, I would suggest you not call people “stupid bitches” along with many of the other very colorful things I'm sure you said in private. You don't see me making fun of fanny bandits on a public forum do you?......... Oh wait. I visited his site before writing this and all I really saw were pictures of celebrities with drawn on cocks in their mouth. I know you want EVERYONE to be gay like you Perez, but not ALL of Hollywood is queer.

I also enjoyed how Perez said in an interview that "Ms California should have kept her politics and religion out of the pageant" but here he is asking her a question that falls into the realm of both. WTF? I can tell you from my own personal perspective (and many other people's), you sir are the “stupid bitch” as well as a hypocrite and the fact that anyone even listens to your bullshit makes me have very little faith in the rest of mankind. The fact that this obese jagoff is capable of reaching so many people on such a broad scale is incredulous. However that happened, I am unsure, but I'm willing to bet my XBox it's because America got stupid the past 2 decades. If you want to be on TV, if you have the opportunity to get the word out about whatever cause you're fighting that week, you really need to be able to do so intelligently. Understand something, those of us who still have our balls attached are going to say whatever the fuck we want when we feel the need to do so. Even with all the political correctness going on in America, there are still many of us who don't care about offending others if that simple action is capable of opening their mind for critical thinking. This country needs to toughen up. We're not going to candy coat it like Ms California did. You will eventually run into guys like myself and others who will just tell you to your face you're full of shit and you should go suck on the end of a shotgun instead of a penis for once. Either way, we're all very well versed on where you stand with gay marriage, but perhaps if you took your head out of your ass and were actually able to engage those who oppose with more intelligent discourse in the media world, you would accomplish far more for your cause and maybe people like myself would actually take you more seriously.

Haha, I couldn't say that last part without laughing my ass off. I just typed it and I'm still laughing.