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How To: Throw an Everyday Party
By: Dirk | March 8th, 2010 | Category: How To: Your Guide to Being a Man
Cliff here. An everyday party for a guy is different from a Bachelor Party (note the capitalization). If you need help with one of those, check out this little gem. Otherwise, shutup.
Every man needs a castle. Your castle is your home base for eatin’, drinkin’, and whorin’. If you can’t chug an ice-cold beer while eating a turkey leg between the thighs of a Vietnamese hooker in your own house, you can forget about ever being happy. Some men just need their own four walls to get home after work and relax.
Some men like to throw parties. I’m not talking about any of those wine-tasting, appetizer-infested cockstravaganzas. A man party (instead of “man party”, it’s probably more accurate to call it “a party thrown by a man, where chicks dance around partially or totally naked, everyone gets drunk, and eventually Cliff bangs all the girls – even the one you brought AND her sister”) in short, is more appropriately named “Armageddon”. If you’re fond of your place, first of all you’re a sissy homemaking bitch, and second of all you shouldn’t be throwing Armageddon. If your friends aren’t a bunch of one-nutted kittens, there’s a 50-50 chance that at least one wall of your house will need to be replaced, and you’ll sure as Hell want to replace every single piece of furniture in what’s left of your place since the “working girls” will need to sit at some point.
The whole idea behind a party is to have a good time, and I don’t see any other way to do that without lighting at least one or two pieces of furniture and/or party guests on fire. It automatically ensures that they’ll provide some entertainment, and with any luck your fire department buddies may show up and help provide another essential element of a kick-ass bash: Water games.
Whether you decide to play one of my favorite party games – appropriately named “Riot!”, and take turns blasting each other with fire hoses, or make the world’s fastest and badassiest Slip ‘n Slide, fire trucks bring a whole new level of entertainment to any party thrown by a guy. Worst case scenario, you get to put on their bunker gear and kick in your neighbors’ doors. Awesome.
If you’ve seen “The Hangover”, you have a rough idea of how to throw an easygoing celebration. Stealing a tiger and pulling your own tooth? Awesome. Marrying a stripper? Worst idea ever. If these guys hadn’t been so low-key, though, they might have realized that said tiger would make a sweet ride to the nearest bar, and instead pulled the teeth of all the ladies at the party to facilitate a different kind of Slip ‘n Slide. Heh. Granny style. Nice.
If you’re throwing a little bash in your house, you don’t need to provide booze. Instead, make your guests bring liquor as part of their price of admission, as part of the scavenger hunt they went on before showing up. Rules: No buying anything – get criminal, each guy must bring five or more ladies – rated eight or above on a ten-point scale, and everyone must have a gun. There should be no set plans for the weapons at the start of the shindig, just let the night develop and see where the firearms take you.
Anyway, I’m done tossing out my pointers for now, I’ve got a party to get to. Whether your next bash turns out to be a shindig, hootenanny, hoedown, or even a run-of-the-mill jamboree, follow the tips above to make sure it’s at least a little bit memorable for the ladies for some other reason than they finally got railed by a man. You should be that man, unless I’m there, in which case, you may as well settle back on the couch and watch some ESPN, because I’m not gonna be done with your girls for a while. See you next week.
How To: Understand a Man
By: Dirk | March 1st, 2010 | Category: How To: Your Guide to Being a Man
Cliff here. I’m going to switch it up this week and speak to my lady friends. Men, feel free to keep reading, but this is all stuff you already know or feel. For some strange reason, some women complain about how they can’t get any action from the guys in their life. When I hear a woman say something stupid like that, it leads to to one of three conclusions: she’s stupid, she’s HORRIBLY ugly, or she’s an evil, stuck-up harlot who isonly interested in herself. For a woman, getting tail is as simple as walking up to any guy around, and simply asking, “Will you have sex with me?” If he says no, he’s a liar.
For you girls out there who claim you’re not ugly and/or stupid (some of you are – that’s just statistics), and still can’t ever seem to play with Amanda Hugankiss, you’ve come to the right place (Sound it out – A Man da Hug and Kiss…if you’re just now getting it, maybe you really ARE too stupid and men are sick of hearing you try to make a coherent sentence. Think about it.). I’m here to crack this nut WIDE open on men and their motivations. To be honest, we’re all a little shocked you haven’t figured us out yet. Men are motivated exclusively by four things, in this order: Sex, Respect, Entertainment, Money. That’s it. Stop overthinking this, and don’t be stupid and say your man doesn’t care about x, y, or z. Yes he does. Shut up.
It’s pretty obvious that our number one motivation is sex. Ladies, if you have trouble grasping this point, as completely elementary as it may be, then take a second to replay a few conversations you’ve recently had with any man. It doesn’t matter if it’s your biological father, best friends’ brother, teacher, minister, or Dick Clark the stroke victim. There was at least one second in any conversation he’s had with a woman (even you)where his eyes lost focus, or they dropped to your supple bosoms and/or delightful haunches. If it’s someone to whom you’re related, chances are he isn’t thinking specifically about your body parts (although he might…), but his mind wandered, his eyes lost focus and he thought to himself, “I wonder what [insert woman's name here] would look like covered in neopolitan ice cream…”, or “Gosh, I’d like to bang [some woman's name or body part]!” I could insert an answer into either one of those brackets, and every man you’ve ever met could do the same in five seconds or less.
Respect is another one that should be self-evident to you ladies, but you’re all possibly a little dumber than we’ve been giving you credit for. You all like to tell stories about how your man is such a baby, because when he’s sick he just lays on the couch and depends on you to take care of him. YUP! It doesn’t get any more humiliating than you cleaning up our filth and bringing us food because we’re currently disagreeing with our bodies. Sometimes we’ll fake being sick, just to lay on the couch and make you run our errands. Surprise! In any case, start treating your man like the only thing standing between you and prostitution. He’s making money for you to be able to support your stupid extravagant lifestyle, and his mere presence is enough in most cases for other men to not offer you money in exchange for sex. You’re welcome. Plus he’s physically stronger and could kill you with his bear hands (not a misspelling), but restrains himself – even when you nag him out over how dirty his car is, or the fact that he wore black shoes with a brown belt. His self control is sometimes the only thing keeping you alive. Respect that.
On top of sex and respect, men will often do or say things simply to entertain themselves. In many cases, that entertainment will coincide with one of the other three major topics running through his head. Sex jokes make us laugh, so we tell them. Other men laugh and think we’re funny, so they respect us. Sometimes we tell jokes about prostitution, where sex and money come together, and gain us more respect. On a side note, I want to make a bumper sticker that says “Whoring: The Crossroads of Your Genitals and My Wallet.” Off topic, but still very important. Anyway, men do things strictly to humor our own damn selves. Sometimes when you say we’re being the World’s Biggest A$$hole, it’s because 1. It makes us laugh to tell you that we’ve been considering railing your sister for the past two years, and 2. “World’s Biggest” is a Hell of an achievement, and it feels good to be the best at something.
The last major motivator for men is money. We assign value to it because we had to work our asses off earn it. We’ll be damned if you can just toss a crapload of cash down the drain so you can have a purse made by some french guy (intentionally not capitalized because the french are bitches). If we DO decide to spring for some stupid thing that you just HAD to have, we fully expect to get something back. By “something”, I mean at LEAST two of the other things on this list. Tell us how much you respect that filthy nailing we just gave you, make us a sandwich, then scoot on back down to your knees for another go, because that effing purse cost $300. See you next week.
How To: Fix a Lesbian
By: Dirk | February 22nd, 2010 | Category: How To: Your Guide to Being a Man
Cliff here. I love girl on girl action, it’s a beautiful thing. One thing I will NOT tolerate, however, is a woman who wants to get her jollies exclusively from another woman. Sure, it’s great to watch, but unless you’re shelling clams with a webcam running and men from all over the planet watching, what’s the point? I’m pretty sure the genital structure of men and women is made to fit together, let’s not go trying to change the function of human anatomy just to make a statement. If you want to play around, that’s swell – bring your sister. Instead of being a selfish jerk, though, consider spreading it around a little more than your “life partner”.
“But Cliff”, you say, “Aren’t most lesbians gross and ugly? Do we really need them in the banging rotation?” You make a good point, my friend, but my response to you is two-fold:
- While I will not be shanking bull-dykes anytime in the near future, there are entire populations of men who get little or no action from the population of 10s, and occasional 9s who I allow to share my seed. We shouldn’t let these “ladies” out of the rotation, effectively rooster blocking our comrades.
- While they are quite elusive, the lipstick lesbian DOES exist. Allowing her to opt out of man-loving is like chopping the wings off a bird. Plus it’s fun to bang hotties with their hottie friends participating.
So based off my irrefutable logic in the two points above, I’m not arguing that the ladies need to stop slip ‘n sliding with their lady friends, I’m simply saying that if you’re going to munch a taco, you may as well sample some kielbasa. Since the bull dyke seems to be the biggest problem for my fellow men, follow these few simple points to fix the lesbians around you.
1. Out-man the manly women. Does her hair cut resemble Haley Joel Osment’s in The Sixth Sense? Cut yours shorter. If she wants to cut hers shorter, shave your head, and scalp the skin from your skull. Not only will she be shocked at your testicular fortitude, you will look BADASS with your skull showing.
2. Demonstrate the versatility and usefulness of the male member. If she acts unimpressed with your drumstick, then it’s probably too small. Prove to her that you can at least wield that hog with authority. Pick things up with it, reach across the table and poke her in the eye, or at least use it to wrap around and hold your beer can. If your dong is not prehensile, teach it to become an elephant’s trunk. With a third arm, it’s much easier to function, plus that’s hilarious.
3. Seduce her. Don’t worry about wine and roses, a monster lesbo that doesn’t straighten out after steps one and two won’t respond to the gentle sexification. Show her what she’s missing by abstaining from Slim Jims. She’s more interested in some slap and tickle than some gentle caresses in the dark. Bring her to a public place, like the park or your mother’s vaheena, and turn her around. If you use lotion on any body part other than your late night personal love play, stop it. It’s weird. She’ll respect your manhand calluses, and your alligator skin is what she doesn’t even know she’s been missing.
Now that you know the proper way to fix a lesbian, go out and turn some of these ladies around, literally and figuratively. Take one or two for the team, and straighten out these broads for some of your fellow men who can’t get tail from the strait ladies. Be a man, and the girlie-loving women will follow. See you next week.
How To: Pleasure a Woman
By: Dirk | February 15th, 2010 | Category: How To: Your Guide to Being a ManCliff here. I’ve had a few dozen emails from readers who want to know which moves could net them the most points in the sack with the ladies. I’ve also had a couple emails from one or two guys who are so gay that they fart glitter, but I haven’t bothered reading all those. If you have ever had a man inside your body, I’m telling you to stop reading these articles. Fix that whole “I love wiener” thing you’ve got going on, and when you’ve finally realized that your gayness doesn’t get you as much attention as you’d like, come back and talk to me. I’ll point your gaping ass in the right direction, but I’m going to guarantee that I’ll be uncomfortable around you. My eyes are up here, pickle sniffer.
Allow me to insert this little disclaimer: the title of the article is completely wrong, it should read, “How to Be Pleasured by a Woman”. I say “allow me to insert this disclaimer” like I care what you think. I’ll insert this disclaimer andywhere I damn well want to, including the mouth of the woman who birthed you. Speaking of that foul-mouthed harlot, sex is made for men; otherwise women wouldn’t have to try so hard to get off. I realize there’s a good amount of overlap in this article with How to Pick Up a Woman, but given that every waking minute of your day is probably consumed with this sex thing all your buddies are talking about, I figured I’d make sure the topic was covered thoroughly.
I have no doubt in my mind that at least a few of you boys have been with a woman. That’s Bush League, because “woman” is singular. If at least one woman thinks you’re not too much of a troll to bang, chances are you could sleep with others. Most likely, your biggest anchor is your own stupidity.Consider your throbbing salami to be a product that you’re selling. Your best marketing campaign is through word of mouth: put that thing in enough mouths while keeping them interested, and they’ll tell their friends. That’s publicity you need.
The first thing you have to know is that women don’t have just one type of turn on. I’ll start you out with the Big Three: physical attraction, spite, and money. Money is the easiest one of the bunch. Drop a few hundy on a girl, and you’ve basically guaranteed that you can put something attached to your body into at least one of her orifices. It’s so easy, in fact, that some women make their living by getting “turned on” through this route. You probably lost your virginity to a hooker when your dad realized that your chances of getting laid were slightly worse than his chances of getting your mom to suck him off like she used to back in college. If finding out that your dad paid a woman to have sex with you hurts your feelings, then it’s basically proof that he was right. Appreciate the gift of a loving father.
Physical attraction is the least important of the three turn ons for women. Want proof? Look how much Billy Bob Thornton gets laid. He got to have sex with Angelina Jolie, but he only pulled it off because it was before she was super hot and after she was crazy. That’s a weird combination. If you want more proof, see hot chicks with douchebags. Still, I’m betting ‘Ol Billy Bob was riding the wave of one of the other two of the Big Three Turn Ons. My money is on spite. Basically, all you have to do is get a woman to think that her best enemy wants to hop on your Pogo Stick. Nine times out of ten, the first woman will do all she can just to butter up your cob before that other bitch. If you work it right, you can have both of them at the same time, fighting over you during the actual physical act of sex. That move is a little advanced for most of you bald-scroted little bitches, but if you can pull it off, it’s legendary.
Physical attraction is something that women fall back on when they can’t point to any other reason that they like or don’t like a guy. If you’re an ugly bastard, women will still sleep with you, unless you’re just not rich or interesting. If you’re ugly, find a great cover story. Make up some badass tale about how you were on your way to bang the girl’s friend/enemy, when you were hit by the team bus for the New York Yankees. Spin that fairy-tale yarn until she believes that your settlement from “The Accident” has left you with enough cash that you don’t care what she spends it on, so long as your knob is kept brightly polished.
Put something together in your own mind, now that you know women’s true motivation for sex. They see it as a tool to get what they want; the trick is to make them think that YOUR tool will help them get whatever it is they want. See you next week.
How To: Dominate World of Warcraft
By: Dirk | February 8th, 2010 | Category: How To: Your Guide to Being a Man
Cliff here. Let me kick this off by saying you should have something better to do with your time than playing an online role-playing game. Banging hotties, plundering cities, and generally having a good time takes up most of my free time, but we’re taking baby steps with you fairies. If I had to pick one piece of wisdom to share with all the pseudo men of the world, I would tell you to be the best at whatever bit of gayishness you decide to undertake. Want to be a cage fighter? Kick every ass that dares to step into your octagon. Always wanted to rule the world? Run for President. Anything else is half-assing, and that is one thing I will not tolerate from male humans.
I have never played this World of Warcraft thing, but I know enough about it to lay down a few pointers. First and most importantly, you have to get your ACTUAL life in order. Get a job, pay your bills, and move out of your parents’ house. That should be enough to keep the real WoW nutbags busy for a while. Chances are, you haven’t seen the light of the sun since the game was released. Most importantly, if you can’t walk into a REAL bar, strike up a conversation with a REAL girl, and put your REAL genitals to work in a REAL way, you have no business hopping onto a computer to short-cut your way through life.
Basically, online role-playing games are one of the easiest ways to skip over any sort of effort and bring yourself all the awesomeness that comes with being a man. If you want to be the world’s greatest archer, get your ass off the couch and shoot something with arrows. Nobody wants to listen to some douche talking to his friends through a headset, telling them about all the goblins he’s slain, or the dragons he’s conquered. Sad. Tony Hawk has earned the right to play a badass game about skateboarding, because he can do it in real life. Tiger Woods can sit on his ass all day, playing the latest golf simulation game because his names on the damn box. He also could play a video game called “Hide the Sausage”, since he’s obviously mastered that facet of REAL life, too.
Anyway, here’s all you need to play your stupid online game:
- Embark on a REAL LIFE quest. You should be in imminent danger of death the entire time, and your quest only ends when you’ve chopped the head off of an Ice Giant, or worked your way through an entire cheerleading squad. The best quests should allow time for both monster-slaying AND tickle time with a slew of ladies.
- Make sure to have a badass REAL life weapon. Swords are badass if you didn’t buy one out of SkyMall, and it isn’t a replica of Gandalf’s broadsword. If your weapon is hanging on a wall unsharpened, it’s not a weapon – it’s a decoration. Women will not want to sleep with you. Period. Sharpen that bitch, and use it to chop some terrorists up when they try to destroy your city.
- Wear a cape. In REAL life. You dress your stupid online characters up like they’re your own personal “action figure”, but don’t have the balls to wear that same battle armor to pick up some milk? Weak. It’s not what you wear it’s how you wear it. I guarantee when I go to a football game in full chainmail, still coated in the blood of the werewolf I just tore in two with my bare hands, nobody’s wondering what the eff I’m doing there. They’re just glad to know that there’s a man left who doesn’t run away at the first sight of a vampire (see here for vampire-slaying instructions), and the women are all trying to figure out how to get that armor off my body and onto the floor next to their bed.
If you still feel the need to play some stupid online game after slaughtering a cobrabear, feel free – you’ve earned it. Don’t keep being a little bitch-baby, though, and shoot your jollies off into a wad of toilet paper while you think about what badass things you’re going to say to the next elven princess who strolls across your computer screen. That’s just sad, and I’m disappointed that I even had to tell you. See you next week.
How To: Handle a Scandal
By: Dirk | February 1st, 2010 | Category: How To: Your Guide to Being a ManCliff here. Despite my unwillingness and disinterest in all things that pertain to celebrities and public personas, it’s literally impossible to not hear about who slept with who else and why what’s-his-name railed a male prostitute in a park bathroom. First of all, that’s sick. Quit being such a bunch of degenerate retards. If you’re offended at my use of the word “retard”, let me know at dirk@straitpinkie.com, and I’ll come to your house and shove my middle finger through your eyeball. I’m effing sick to death of people who get offended at every little word, and forget that there are bigger problems than what word is inappropriate at the moment. For instance, I’m bringing back the word “honky”. It’s a hilarious word, and words never hurt anyone, meanwhile funny words like “honky” shouldn’t be thrown in the proverbial garbage because someone got offended.
The word shouldn’t bother you, it’s the meaning and hate that can be worked throughout a politically correct term just as easily. Unless you’re a Caucasian being violently attacked by another ethnicity while they try to beat you with a club carved in the shape of the word, the word “honky” is not the issue. If you find yourself in this situation, just punch the other person in the throat and taunt them for their douchebaggery.
Still, despite all my hatred for political correctness, it seems to be the one thing that celebrities, politicians, and the public in general expect from someone embroiled in a scandal. I honestly don’t care if Tiger Woods was banging his dead grandmother; it’s none of my damn business, any more than it’s yours. For everyone out there who is crying that he’s a role model for millions of children, I have this to say to those children and their parents: You will never be a golfer as good as Tiger. Learn a trade and be good at that, instead of wasting your stupid childhood trying to live up to someone else’s reputation and legacy. If you want to be a great golfer, fine, just don’t go basing all your hopes and dreams on someday making an eagle putt to win the Masters. It’s not going to happen.
To put the public at ease about your recent affair, or explain yourself after being caught making a quick buck on some insider trading, follow these simple steps.
- Call a presser. It’s surprising enough that anyone even gives a flying fart what you think or do, so bask in the glory of the dozens of people you’ve disappointed. On top of that, there’s usually some sort of free food and drink, and tons of hot reporter broads to help mend your broken heart.
- Say these words, verbatim (that means “exactly”, jackass): “I don’t care what you a-holes think, and it’s none of your damn business what I do on my own time. If I need to apologize, it’s not to you mindless leeches, and any one of you would have done the same thing in my shoes. Piss off.”
- Make intimidating eye contact with every single person in the room. It doesn’t matter if this takes a few seconds or 2 hours. Say nothing except the script I’ve conveniently written for you in #2, and stare in silence into the eyes of every reporter, making sure not to forget the people who’re catering the free food and drink from #1. Worst case scenario: they’re so intimidated that you get to go home with an entire platter of free finger food. Best case scenario: one of the caterers is smoking hot, and you get to bang her on top of an entire platter of free finger food. Awesome.
Keep in mind that you don’t owe anything to anyone. You really don’t need to hold the presser, but it’s a fun way to get some free crap, and chances good that at least one of the reporters is a hot little Hispanic number who thinks your wiener can win her a Pulitzer. In that instance, do everything you can to convince her that you’re a bigger deal than you really are. See you next week.
How To: Conduct A Symphony
By: Dirk | January 25th, 2010 | Category: How To: Your Guide to Being a Man
Cliff here. A lot of you pricks out there don’t understand the true beauty of a wonderful symphony. The TRUE beauty of a snooty affair like a symphony is that the women at these events are all gorgeous, stupid, and on the arm of some old rich guy who thought his college-aged date would be amazed at the opulent surroundings and other classy posers. There are no easier marks than at a classical concert, and unless you’re taking credit for the whole stupid affair, and dominating the night with your awesomeness, you will get lost in the old money shuffle.
You could learn to play an instrument like a violin really well, or just learn the best way to shout orders at the pimply, lonely, band geeks in the orchestra who had plenty of time to excel at music in the hours between caring for their 30 cats and complaining to their stuffed animals about their lack of a social life. If you want to keep your testicles attached, learn to be a conductor. Another bonus is that every now and then, some sex-crazed social outcast with low self esteem actually has a pretty slamming body. Use that to your advantage, but never forget that even though she may be able to do ninja tricks in the bedroom, the fact that she’s into classical music makes her a pretentious, lonely, homebody. Enjoy your time playing her sexaphone, then get away.
Unless you’re a world-renowned flutist (someone who’s wasted their life on a stupid instrument like the flute), the only way to get tail at a posh affair like an orchestral performance is to illuminate the Viagra-popping turds as a bunch of pompous jerkoffs in the light of your manitude. Every woman wants the guy in charge. I have gotten rock-star action from a night of symphony, simply because the women were given the opportunity to ogle my chiseled glutes for the entire performance. If you want to mix up your game, follow these simple steps to make yourself into a first class orchestra conductor.
1. Remove the band (or orchestra if you want to be a rooster about it) from the view of the crowd. If the idiots want to worship someone’s abilities for a night, make yours the only abilities they see. I recommend placing yourself alone on stage, facing the ensemble who should have their instruments set up in the first few rows of the theater.
2. Dress for success. This is not a barbeque at your uncle’s house, so put on a shirt with few or no stains and consider wearing pants. Remember that this is just a suggestion, it’s more important for you to be comfortable and confident. If you want to get up there and rock the birthday suit, then by all means, go ahead. Just make sure the temperature in the building is tolerable. You can’t have anyone thinking that you’re only packing 12 inches of trouser meat. If you’re shrunken down to a foot of beef, it’s too cold in there.
3. Fake it. Women do this all the time with lesser males, so you should at least be able to pretend that you know the intricacies of tempo, pitch and all that other crap. You can either go with the impassioned music aficionado, or act as if everyone in the room is beneath you. The first option makes women think you care about the same stupid crap that gets their engines running, as you bounce all over the stage, waving your arms around like the music has possessed your body. The second option makes you seem unattainable, so when you decide to grab a woman or three from the attentive listeners, they’re amazed that you even noticed them and will try all the more to satisfy a legend like yourself. The approach is strictly preference, so have fun with it.
No matter what you do in this setting, you really can’t screw this up. Scoop up a few hotties and let them throw themselves at you to keep you interested. After all, the senior citizen you just snatched them away from hasn’t performed his best in the sack for the past three decades. If you can’t beat his performance, you have no business doing sex with anyone but yourself. See you next week.
How To: Lightning Round Two
By: Dirk | January 18th, 2010 | Category: How To: Your Guide to Being a Man
Cliff here. In response to the earth-shattering reaction to the first How To: Lightning Round, here’s another bunch of topics. Don’t be a bitch, read them all. There’s a good chance one of these is something that applies to you. If you have a topic you’d like covered in the next Lightning Round, send it to dirk@straitpinkie.com. Listen up, because here’s How To:
Wrestle a Grizzly.
Avoid the massive, swiping Paws of Death. Grab the bear around the waist and/or neck. Squeeze. The point of the exercise isn’t to kill the animal, that’s too easy. Attempt to keep the bear awake and fighting. He or she should eventually surrender to your overwhelming manness/awesomeness and all of a sudden, you have the badassiest pet in town.
Invest In the Stock Market.
This one’s easy. Pick your favorite company or a few that you’re interested in, and know their business (Smith & Wesson and Trojan were my top two), and buy as many as you can afford. Go to their shareholder meeting and make sure they realize your massive potential for violence and utter contempt for incompetence. Go home and watch the money roll in.
Shop.
Think about what you want. Go to a store that carries that product. Buy that product. Notice I didn’t say anything about walking around comparing prices or taking a friend along to make a day of it. Alternatively, this is a great way to get rid of your woman for the day. Give her money, tell her what you want, and nothing more. She’ll spend the entire day dancing around a mall, comparing prices and appreciating your trust. If she does not get the items or manages to buy more than you want, emotionally destroy her. Next time she’ll be more careful. The one exception to this rule is large purchases. If you’re buying a car, TV, or house, get your ass off the couch and refer to How To: Get a Job. The same principles apply when negotiating for a raise or bringing the price down on a kickass flat screen TV. Sack up.
Become a Recognized Worldwide Trendsetter in Fashion and Art.
You can’t be serious. This is the gayest request anyone has ever asked me to comment on. Here are a few pointers:
- Reach up into your intestines and pull down your balls, which have obviously never descended from your childhood.
- Put on some jeans, boots, and a comfortable flannel shirt (see picture above).
- Stop being gay.
Slap a Bitch Up.
Alright, now I’m pretty sure someone out there on the electronic mail circuit is effing with me. Why would you ever hit your woman? It’s unnecessary, and it damages the goods. If you have to hit a woman, it’s because you’re a douchy wanker who can’t control her with your manness. You either suck in bed or you are upset about your penis size. If you have to hit her, send her my way. It will take exactly three seconds for me to establish my dominance over your girl, all possible because she respects me. Women know you’re physically stronger, that’s never been debatable. She respects your more if you DON’T hit her. You’re a cockbite.
Be a Philanderer.
Bang married chicks. Stupid question.
Run From the Cops.
At this point, I’m pretty worried about our reader base. From gayness to girl-beating to stupidity, I’m going to need one of you dickweeds to be a real man. Just one. To answer the question, you should never run from the cops, the cops should run from you. If they’re chasing you, then they obviously don’t realize the destructive capability of your left and right fists. You don’t see anyone trying to detain Chuck Norris. That’s not because he’s never done anything “illegal”, it’s because none of the 62 countries in which he’s a wanted man have the manpower to bring him down. If thee police KNOW the capability of both of your fists and still aren’t frightened, you’re a vaheena, and you need to make a muscle.
That’s it for now, try applying some manness to your life today. You’ll be amazed at how much easier it is to be a man than to be a pimply little scapegoat like yourself. See you next week.
How To: Be a Snake Charmer
By: Dirk | January 11th, 2010 | Category: How To: Your Guide to Being a ManCliff here. What you first need to know is that snakes are awesome. They’re the whores of the animal world. Anything that can unhinge its jaw to swallow something larger than the diameter of its head is ok in my book. I’ve known a few girls with this gift, and they used it to their advantage. The most important thing you need to know is that your snake should be no smaller than the trouser mamba you’re packing. I own a 26 foot Himalayan Cliff Viper (three inches larger than my trouser mamba), chosen for it’s awesome name, and because it’s the world’s largest and most dangerous venomous snake. Still unknown to science, it’s one badass snake. I feed it three full-grown cows per week.
As my Indian brothers can attest, snake charming is not generally an easy task. Still, with a little testicle power, anything is possible or even easy. The sex of your snake will determine your method, and males are much easier to influence than females if you just man up a little. The male snake needs to know who’s in charge. Challenge him to a staring contest, and then slap him in the mouth after you win. Don’t accept his feeble attempts to inject you with venom. Consider biting him back, but remember that a dead snake is no good for you to use to pick up ladies. Gently crush his spirit with your overwhelming dominance, and build him back up to a ferocious beast. Female snakes are a whole different matter. For some reason, they refuse to be dominated, unlike the human females. You need a more comprehensive approach to destroying their resistance to your manitude. Start slow, but you’ll basically be walking through your own system for lashing your own hose-beast. Listen up.
- Strangle. The girl snakes seem to like this, even to the point of choking them out. This step lets them know that you almost have their best interests in mind. I say “almost”, because your best interests are using animal dominance to pull some hot human tail. The snakes’ best interest is not getting killed, and choking down a giant rodent. Somewhat similar.
- Yank. This is where the training starts. Don’t be gentle, you should mildly injure your snake at least once per day (suck on that, PETA!). If your snake attempts to fight back, tie them in a literal knot. She should know better than to struggle, it’s only going to make it worse.
- Suffocate. Stick her in a smelly, warm, moist environment. The clearance should be tight enough that your snake feels claustrophobic (basically a tight hole). When your snake passes out from a lack of breathable air, wake her with a thunderous smack to her backside. Continue inserting the snake into the hole and withdrawing until she finally throws up and falls into a sound slumber. Training complete.
If you forget the three steps laid out here, feel free to wing it. Whatever your process might be, give it a shot. As long as the culmination is the same, the animal should give you no more trouble. After taming your serpent, throw that reptilian beastie up on your shoulders and head to the bar for a night out. Ladies will be enthralled with your mastery of such a giant snake, and you will get laid. Let me repeat that: You WILL get laid. That is reason enough for you to learn this simple yet effective party trick. See you next week.
How To: Win At Poker
By: Dirk | January 4th, 2010 | Category: How To: Your Guide to Being a Man
Cliff here. If you’re a man, you’ve played cards at one time or another. Men gamble. If you’re going to participate in a game, there had damn well better be something at stake. Whether it’s the right to ridicule your buddy daily at his lack of skill in Scrabble, or money AND the right to ridicule your buddy, you always must have the chance to win something. If you’re not good at something, don’t play. Practice on your 6-year-old niece until you can formulate some sort of basic strategy, then come to poker night and hustle the coins from other men’s pockets.
When I say “coins”, by the way, I mean “hundred dollar bills” or at the very least, twenties. If you don’t play for a reasonable amount of money (I never join a game for less than five large – that’s five thousand dollars for you prancing fairies. A lot of gambling websites say something to the effect of “if you can’t afford to lose, don’t play”. I say those ass clowns can lick my salties. If you can’t afford to lose, don’t lose – it’s as simple as that. If you lose, you deserve to eat ramen noodles and butter sandwiches until your next paycheck. By my generous estimates, one out of every five males is an actual man. That means if you’re a real man, your four best friends probably are not. You should consider it your job, and probably your responsibility to hustle them for their paychecks until they can hold their own. You owe it to them.
I have a few key pointers when playing poker that have allowed me to win millions of dollars from other suckers like your four besties. On a related note: stop calling your friends “besties”. Possibly the gayest name for a manfriend you could ever choose. Get out your big gay journal or whatever you call your diary. Write these down and memorize these pointers so you never again get your ass handed to you while losing your ass simultaneously. Also, stop keeping a diary. You shouldn’t need a place to chronicle your feelings, since you shouldn’t have any emotions because emotions are only found in the ovaries. I kept a “journal” for three days, just so I could see what you and your scrapbooking homo friends do in your spare time. Here are the journal entries from those three days:
Day 1
Hungry. I think I will kill that saber-toothed cougar snake in the backyard. Play date with a mother tonight.
Day 2
Still eating on that cougar snake. That was a meaty little bastard. Note to self: punch the next douche who makes eye contact with me.
Day 3
Some random hot girl in my bed woke me up this morning. I let her finish me off, then gave her a Dutch Oven. That’s funny. Hungry again.
After looking through my “journal” entries for the three days I concluded that men who actually keep diaries are either gay and have emotions and other crap to write about, or their diary entries are so boring the paper weeps when they start writing. Quit being gay. Regardless, here’s how to win at poker.
Step 1: Bring a LOT of money. Your chip stack should be high enough that the other players (I’ll henceforth refer to them as “enemies”) can’t read your emotions behind your well-constructed chip fort. You shouldn’t have emotions in the first place, though. Re-read paragraph three, sentence seven.
Step 2: Kill the first man who beats you in a hand. Do it openly and leave the bloody body slumped on the table. Stare around at your other enemies, while scooping his chips into your pile and saying, “I don’t think he’d want this to go to waste. I don’t think he’d advise anyone to leave the table, either…” Trail off menacingly.
Step 3: Play every hand. If your enemies are really stupid, they may need further instruction on how to play the game. Repeat Step 2 as necessary.
That’s really all there is to becoming a huge winner at the great game of poker. If you have actual poker skills, you may not need these three quick tips, but they’re fun to throw into the mix every now and then to really get in your enemies’ heads. Good luck with the gambling. Now you should be able to afford hookers that don’t have visible skin grafts or conjoined twins.
See you next week.
