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Ja minu isiklik lemmik — jalgratas-niiduk. Lihtsalt geniaalne!

Some of you have wondered why, when I am relating anything about my personal experiences that relates to a topic on these forums, my Navy career is usually what I will use to compare and contrast.

Well, that’s because as far as anything that is intensely personal to me, my career is the one thing I can truly treasure in my adult life. My relationships? Another story completely.

Ladies, blast me for this all you want. You happily married men, go ahead and join in the blasting. Yap all you want about lumping all women together, feed me a load of crap about “love takes time,” and then try to infect my brain with this nonsensical dribble about how the nice guys do finish first. I’ve heard it all before, and in my 34 years of existence, I’ve seen very little evidence of it. I believe in what I can touch, smell, see, and hear, and that nice guys not only finish last, but are lucky if anyone will even let them in the race, is what life has taught me is the reality of our species.

You women who are currently seething at my insinuations, with that “Well, I sure don’t treat guys like that!” attitude, well, how old are you? 30? 35? Think back about 15 years. Think back to when your shrewy girl-pals kept telling you that you deserve only the best. When they told you that the slightest flaw in a man was enough to knock him out of the running, right around the same time you were told that a “real” man should blindly accept all of your flaws. Think about high school, when the functionally retarded football players were the only guys who merited your attention and the kids who held the doors open for you didn’t merit a “thank you.”

Ladies? Is this sounding familiar? It should. I promise you, to most of the guys reading this, the story of their lives was just typed out in plain English.

Those guys who weren’t jocks…who didn’t walk around in black leather jackets…who didn’t act as though the young ladies were walking private parts just waiting to be used…those guys were me. They were most of the guys you ever knew. They were the guys who will be reading this.

I’ve seen it my whole life. Go anywhere and look around, then tell me differently. The worst scumbags always seem to have a chick just waiting to swoon over his bad boy antics. Go into any bar. Looks at the guys dancing. The best-looking ones, right? The best-dressed, right? The ones with the most expensive cars out in the parking lot, right? The ones with the fattest wallets that are removed from the their pockets in a timely fashion to buy her some drink with a mystical panty-dropping side effect, right?

Then look at the guys who can’t find any meaningful company other than the other lonely guy friends they came with. Look at the ones in the corner, washing back one beer after another, too shy to approach the female of the species because they got shot out of the sky the last 800 times they tried. Look at the ones sitting alone at the bar, getting drunker and drunker, wishing, hoping that some woman will wonder why he’s alone in such a sociable place and will slide up next to him and spark up a conversation.

Okay, and the last time you went to a club, did you dance with any of those guys? Did you ask if a particular seat was taken just to see what the guy in question was all about? Did you think that is was just plain old wrong that anyone should just sit and watch the fun and festivities on the dance floor, and that tripping the light fantastic might just brighten his mood?

Or did you just bump and grind with the best-looking guy there?

Well, be honest. If you danced with those poor saps I talked about…you sure as hell didn’t do that in any club I ever went to.

I don’t care for your idealized opinions on the male situation. The fact is that most men don’t get to live in the fairy tale world where women don’t display all the worst qualities of the men they finally start hating when 40 approaches. More men can relate to all of this than can’t.

Okay, okay…I get it. You like the bad boys. If someone treats you with courtesy, as in listens when you have a gripe about anything on earth…if someone holds open the door, if some guy treats you like a human being rather than a gutter slut, he’s disqualified. He’s just not bad enough. He’s not interesting enough. He’s just not exciting enough…he’s not mysterious enough. And let me guess…99 times out of 100, he’s not good-looking enough, is he?

Well, think about the word “bad.” Unless my English sucks, isn’t “bad” a negative? Think about it. Bad means…”not good.” You want to know what’s bad? Sleeping with your friends, that’s bad. Stealing money out of your purse, that’s bad. Turning up the volume on the TV when something makes you cry, that’s bad. Expecting you to lie down and spread ’em whenever he wants you to, whether you’re in the mood or not, that’s bad. Smacking you around because you’re half his size and your pitiful attempts to fight back don’t impress him, they just make him even more determined to show you who’s boss…that’s bad.

So there’s your bad boy. What do you think, ladies? Is that bad enough? Is that exciting enough? Is that mysterious enough for you?

So, if you’re nursing a black eye and getting used to your new false teeth because your loving bad boy worked you over after you were five minutes late with dinner…and wonder why you ignored that nice guy who asked you out all those years ago in favor of Asswhip McDuff, I dont want to hear it. If the cops show up because someone called in a domestic disturbance and you defend him because you “just love him so much,” I don’t want to hear it. Don’t jump in the sack with the bad boy after crushing the self esteem of the good ones and then run to the good ones because you need someone to tell your crap to. And in any event, if your early lives were any indication, the moment we start listening intently to your problems because it’s obvious that you need a way out, you’ll probably walk off, right back to Asswhip McDuff, because anyone who truly cares about you is just too boring. Excitement is worth a shiner, right?

And once this has played itself out, and your pal Asswhip has gotten bored with you and is looking for another punching bag with hot friends to nail, go ahead and sit in the dark…annihilate those pints of Ben and Jerry’s and feel sorry for yourself. Then call all of your friends and wonder why men suck. Go ahead and swear off of men. Tell your shrew friends that your sick of men and their crap, and while you’re at it, don’t bother remembering all those nice guys who weren’t worthy of your time. Don’t think about the geek from the computer club who asked you to the prom, remember? He was the one you shot down in sadistic fashion because our pal Asswhip McDuff, captain of the football team, was better looking, drove a better car, and stared at your cleavage instead of your eyes when you spoke to him.

Throughout my life, I’ve asked plenty of women out. I’ve done it in what I would regard as the right way. I can’t count the number of times I was laughed at in front of her friends…or my friends for that matter. Nor can I count the number of times I had a female friend who got screwed over by her precious little bad boy, cried endlessly in my arms about it, but would later tell me that she ‘valued me as a friend’ while she turned around and jumped in the sack with the next scumbag, and wondered why I wasn’t there when it all went badly again, after she ventured out to find my shoulder to cry on, all the while reminding me that I wasn’t her type.

If you women can’t stomach the concept of being with a man who isn’t that rich, or isn’t that good-looking, and his courtesy and kindness isn’t enough to make up for these perceived shortcomings, then quit bitching about men and start bitching about your reflection in the mirror.

And I will even more blunt than is characteristic. You women out there who judge us for feeling that we finish last for the sake of being good people…you women who slam us for grouping women together with no greater frequency than you group us…who whine about there being no good ones left regardless of the number of such men you’ve either stepped on or ignored…

well…how dare you…

Don’t serve us a crap sandwich and get pissed at us for complaining about the smell.

Don’t walk all over us and get pissed at us for complaining about the footprints.

Don’t lay down with the worst of men and put your emotional crap on our shoulders, then get pissed at us when our shoulders can no longer bear the weight.

Don’t laugh at us and get pissed at us for the embarrassment we feel.

And when our hearts can no longer handle the things that women do to us…

…don’t you dare judge us.

I said my peace.

I am now prepared to lose rep points.

RF

…and now… wank furiously for n seconds!!!

OK… ja siin midagi, mida proovida reede või laupäeva õhtul õlledega… open up and-> ACTION!

OK… ja siin midagi, mida proovida reede või laupäeva õhtul ILMA õlleta… või ükskõik mis õhtul, pühendan alole ja sibulale -> WOW

Tänks: rathergood

Ilmselt redneck dreamland vms.

Urge to Beer, ehk UTB. UTB on selline kurkukuivatav närviline kihelus, mis lööb välja tööpäeva lõpus, eriti tugevalt palgapäevadel ning esmaspäeval, neljapäeval ja reedel. Kohati ka teisipäeval ja kolmapäeval… kui esmaspäeval seda korralikult välja ei ravitud. Sümptomeid on palju: suutmatus keskenduda; rahutus jäsemetes; liigne süljeeritus ja pidevad neelud; kompulsiivne vajadus iga minuti järel kella vaadata jne. Ravi… noh… kõige soovitatum on võtta telefon, kutsuda kokku kohalik tugigrupp ning üheskoos probleemile valitud ravikeskuses lahendus leida. Muidu aga on ravimid jaemüügis alates 18-st elusaastast kuni kella 20:00-ni saadaval.

Idee järgi peaks toimima kui ütled, et sa kannatad UTB südroomi all ning pead töölt varem lahkuma, sest JUST täna on sul järjekordne ravisessioon. Kui sinna juurde kergelt mainida, et selle haiguse tekkimises on süüdi töökeskkonna mittevastavus soovitud tingimustele, ei tohiks keegi liigseid küsimusi esitada

Darwin Award Winners:

1. When his 38-caliber revolver failed to fire at his intended
victim during a holdup in Long Beach, California, would be robber James
Elliot did something that can only inspire wonder. He peered down the
barrel and tried the trigger again. This time it worked….. And now,
the honorable mentions:

2. The chef at a hotel in Switzerland lost a finger in a meat cutting
machine and, after a little hopping around, submitted a claim to his
insurance
company. The company expecting negligence, sent out one of its men to
have a look for himself. He tried the machine and lost a finger. The
chef’s claim was approved.

3. A man who shoveled snow for an hour to clear a space for his car
during a blizzard in Chicago returned with his vehicle to find a woman
had taken the space, so he shot her.

4. After stopping for drinks at an illegal bar, a Zimbabwean bus
driver found that the 20 mental patients he was supposed to be
transporting from Harare to Bulawayo had escaped. Not wanting to admit
his incompetence, the driver went to a nearby bus stop and offered
everyone waiting there a free ride. He then delivered the passengers to
the mental hospital, telling the staff that the patients were very
excitable and prone to bizarre fantasies. The deception wasn’t
discovered for 3 days.

5. An American teenager was in the hospital recovering from serious
head wounds received from an oncoming train. When asked how he received
the injuries, the lad told police that he was simply trying to see how
close he could get his head to a moving train before he was hit.

6. A man walked into a Louisiana Circle-K, put a $20 ! bill on the counter,
and
asked for change. When the clerk opened the cash drawer, the man pulled
a gun and asked for all the cash in the register, which the clerk
promptly provided. The man took the cash from the clerk and fled,
leaving the $20 bill on the counter. The total amount of cash he got
from the drawer…$15.
(If someone points a gun at you and gives you money, is a crime committed?)

7. Seems an Arkansas guy wanted some beer pretty badly. He decided
that he’d just throw a cinderblock through a liquor store window, grab
some booze, and run. So he lifted the cinderblock and heaved it over
his head at the window. The cinderblock bounced back and hit the
would-be thief on the head, knocking him unconscious. The liquor store
window was made of Plexiglas. The whole event was caught on videotape.

8. As a female shopper exited a New York convenience store, a man
grabbed her purse and ran. The clerk called 911 immediately, and the
woman was able to give them a detailed description of the snatcher.
Within minutes, the police apprehended the snatcher. They put him in
the car and drove back to the store. The thief was then taken out of
the car and told to stand there for a positive ID. To which he replied,
“Yes, officer, that’s her. That’s the lady I stole the purse from.”

9. The Ann Arbor News crime column reported that a man walked into a
Burger King in Ypsilanti, Michigan, at 5 a.m., flashed a gun, and
demanded cash. The clerk turned him down because he said he couldn’t
open the cash register without a food order. When the man ordered onion
rings, the clerk said they weren’t available for breakfast. The man,
frustrated, walked away.

A 5-STAR STUPIDITY AWARD WINNER!
10. When a man attempted to
siphon gasoline from a motor home parked on a Seattle street, he got
much more than he bargained for. Police arrived at the scene to find a
very sick man curled up next to a motor home near spilled sewage. A
police spokesman said that the man admitted to trying to steal gasoline
and plugged his siphon hose into the motor home’s sewage tank by
mistake. The owner of the vehicle declined to press charges, saying
that it was the best laugh he’d ever had.

This beer is too light
Not enough head either. Hey!
Who pissed in my glass?