1) The constant status updates that are not funny nor interesting at the least to any form of life that is reading it.

For example: "At the gym" (If you are under 300 pounds) or "Just bought a chicken salad for lunch" (If you' are over 300 pounds)

Who the fuck cares?! Before you know it, it'll be a reflex to update every single thing you do. And no good will come of that for you. In fact you'll probably end up with " At the doctors office discussing a premature ejaculation problem" at some point. Now that, I would read...and take note of.

Unfortunately the days when a man would buy a drink for a woman at a bar, and then continue to keep his ass all the way on the other side of the room are OVER! If a guy decides to purchase a member of the opposite sex, they are first meeting, any type of alcoholic beverage it is simply for one reason: Down payment on the pussy!

The more naive women tend to ask obnoxious questions at this point of the conversation like: "Why?" Well the answer to this issue is not something they ever taught us during the after-school specials; but it's quite simple nonetheless. In this day and age, people don't waste their time, or especially their money; on something they won't be reaping the benefits of in the end. And by 'reaping' I mean 'screwing'; and by 'benefits' I of course mean your love pockets. There are no exceptions in this little tid bit. No one's investing in your $10 apple martini unless they have something to show for it at the end of the night. At the very least they want a phone number they can call later on in the week after being struck by morning wood. Or simply just call to breathe into the phone heavily while most likely touching themselves (Note: this particular heavy breathing type is luckily not common to run into. The heavy breathing followed by moments of silence are simply because he doesn't want to wake his mother in the next room)

On the first day of my mission to do Miami, I made a quick run to the grocery store. I needed to have plenty of bottled water back in my room considering I couldn’t possibly risk getting dehydrated during this crucial week. It was go time, and my focus must have been strong as I saw the green light turn on signaling me to cross the street right in front of my hotel room. As I stepped off the curb and proceeded to make my way across Collins Avenue, I saw a red shiny car out of the corner of my eye about half way to the other side. It came to an abrupt halt right in front of me. Slightly stunned, but not willing to stop, I briefly turned my head upward and got a quick glimpse of the front of a Rolls Royce. “Watch it!” I mumbled continuing to cross the street. I was rather annoyed that the driver of this car had almost impaired my physical health for the next week. How was I supposed to pork properly with a bad leg? I plan to leave the whole ‘pimp with a limp’ routine to DJ Laz.

Short Stories about Miami Mayhem... Enjoy.


What's spring break in Miami without a hot one-night stand (if you like to fuck)? A whole bunch of bored chicks surrounded by blue balls. Not happening under my watch kids, not while I'm still alive and kicking. My inquiry into pursuing this started off from the first night we went out. The first candidate was a model from Milan. Just like most pretty faces I've come on - I mean, across: dense. But seeing as talking to him was not even on the list of top 5 things I'd want to do with him, it hardly mattered.

As the night progressed with him sitting and staring at me, I felt like I was spending the evening with Helen Keller. Sense of humor is the biggest turn-on for me but lack thereof can only be overlooked if they compensate in other departments. Let's find out! As he pulled me up to dance, I realized how drunk I had gotten that night, and it took me a while to figure out what the fuck he was doing.

Miami Chronicles Part II: Prayers to the Vodka Gods Always Get Answered


I would have agreed to getting face raped by a gang of circus freaks if it would take back the first few hours of my Miami vacation. This is because they were spent in a car with a group of my travel buddy, Rita's, friends on our way down to the house they rented for all of us. Along with the house; her friend, Alex, whom I affectionately referred to as Princess Cum Dumpster, rented the whole group a van. The exact type of van the retarded kids ride to school everyday; in an alarmingly eye-catching red color. Upon seeing him barely peering over the steering wheel in this Special Ed vehicle I was so overwhelmed with insults that I swear I almost had a seizure. And as if that was not enough to keep me laughing for the next few years, he had a gang of douche bags he packed into the retard van with him. One in particular was a beefy and blond dumb jock type. I

Make sure you check back next Wednesday for more Miami Mess... The Saga continues...



There are a lot of things I have mastered doing while intoxicated. Apparently, making sure I don't say sexually perverse things, while flirting with an extremely eligible bachelor, is not one of them. That is precisely how I blew my chances at potentially becoming a well-off trophy wife. (On a side note, a couple of implants wouldn't hurt my cause either, but that's neither here nor there). Here's the story documenting my downfall.

Philadelphia gets so cold in the winter that if I were born with testicles, they would have surely frozen off by this point. But penis envy is hardly the subject matter at hand. The important issue being that this past March I headed to Miami for spring break. Now most people would associate spring break with heavy alcohol consumption and irresponsible fornication, to that I respond with, "well one could only hope to get so lucky." Drinking and

1) Extreme PDA

When in the company of others, it is important to behave in such a away that does not result in condoms being offered up to you like the baseball dispenser at a batting cage. From the side it’s a lot like witnessing the ending of a disgustingly mushy chick flick over and over and over again. By the time the closing credits come on, you don't know whether to throw up or punch you neighbor in the face. (The amount of buttered popcorn consumed usually decides this dilemma for you).

Plain and simple rule that a group outing is just not the appropriate time for you and your bitch to exchange handy-jay's under the dinner table. Your 'O' face is a far from appetizing sight; as it obnoxiously stands in the background of my sushi rolls. This vision alone is enough to trigger my gag reflex then and there, thank you very much. And to be completely honest, if I wanted to do that all I'd have to do is Google search Rosie O'Donnell photos. That's really all it takes for smooth bulimic sailing from then on

There’s only one thing that brings me as much, if not more, joy in this world than alcohol and special brownies. And that ‘thing’ is simply a damn good porking.

Before I elaborate any further on this topic, let’s take a moment to examine the cold hard facts: single people need to get laid too.  And since none of the Philly singles I know fancy themselves Jonas Brother’s types; the idea of celibacy is about as appealing as tea bagging David Hasslehoff.  (Note: if you had to think about the appeal in this previous statement feel free to stop reading now. I’m fairly certain that we’ll never see eye to eye)

Whether you want to admit it or not, the one thing a person tends to miss in a previous relationship is the guarantee of a good banging on a fairly consistent basis. Without having to pay for it. And when you wake up one morning to find that the free pussy/cock is gone, the world appears just a few shades darker. Inevitably, since all the happy tissue time in the world cannot solve this pressing issue, one must take the time to invest in a fuck buddy.