The only thing more distracting to a man than cleavage is a good set of hard nipples.  It is a proven fact that if a woman aproaches a man, and her nipples are erect, he ... will ... look.

It is physically impossible to look a woman straight in the eyes when she has eraser nipples.  It can't be done.

Not even by a gay man. 

I like to think of myself as a pretty charitable person. In fact everyone I know thinks I'm a pretty charitable person as well; but that could be because I tell them why I'm a pretty charitable person. I try to be genuinely charitable - giving purely for the good of giving, a completely selfless act - but I can't. I need to tell someone about it. 

Whenever I go on vacation I feel the need to leave my house spotless.  I also make lists, and check off stuff as I go.  Bathroom scrubbed? Check.  Floors vacuumed? Check.  Clothes for if it’s cold? Check.  Clothes for if it’s warm? Check. Coats? Check.  Extra coats in case somebody pukes?  Check.  Snakebite kit? We won’t be needing that but, Check.

Living in the South, I have grown accustomed to the quirky way that many people speak. 

For example, I have a good friend who tells me that people are “crookeder than a dog’s hind leg”. Once, when someone was trying to give me directions they included detailed renditions of everything that had happened on every street mentioned, ever (once Beulah Ramsey threw a frying pan at her husband down on Coppage road, but they never did call the police! For reals!), but absolutely no street names. 

Have you ever been asked the question, “if you could be any animal in the world, what animal would you be?” It’s one of those dumb questions that always seem to pop up when trying to get to know someone. I think the better question would be “what animal are you most like?” Because if you’re asking me what animal I want to BE like, I would say a tiger. Why? Because they are predators and if they want something, they take it. End of story. I can understand that. 

People who bother me on the bus. 

        1.       The vagabond smelling of pee.

This one really needs no explanation. Pee smells bad. I don’t enjoy smelling bad smells. Hence, I don’t like it when I am forced to share space with the smell of pee. Maybe they don’t know they smell like pee. Maybe they like it. I don’t know and I don’t care. It bothers me.

Having recently vacationed in Florida (state motto: "If you're not old, get the f*ck OUT!"), I've realized something about restaurants.

In Florida, you're greeted - for the most part - by cheery, slim, attractive women.

In my state of New Hampshire, you're greeted - for the most part - by cheery, fat, muffin-topped disasters in tight shirts.

I'm not sure why this is.

I'm a guy.  And sometimes, when I pee, I pee standing up.  Men do that.  We do it because we can.  Because we were blessed with a penis and women weren't.

Some women think they can pee standing up but they can't (ask Mimzie ).  They cop a funky squat, aim as best as they can, and dribble it down their legs.