The Ninja

Greetings all you mere mortals, heh. Prepare to bask in the awesomeness of me.

Got a problem? I’ve already been there, done that. Here, let me show you……………………….

Bad job? Have I got an idea for you, heh. Have you considered buying cheap Chinese manufactured junk (heh) and reselling them on Amazon for a 100% mark-up? Or developing your own brand of overnight oats? Maybe you should think about trying for an extra buck or million, heh. Or maybe you should just pray real hard for God to drop $1M in your lap while you’re at it? I know you don’t want to work hard, heh, and smart. Just keep hunting those gold pots at the end of the rainbow. I’m sure that will work out for you, heh.

Need to shed some pounds? Heh, well you’ve come to the right place at the right time. Oxycut is the way to go. You’ll have those Viking princesses all over you in no time, heh, heh, hehhhhh. Or just drop an egg in your coffee.

While we’re discussing pills, let’s talk about Testosterone. As your body ages you have to cheat a little to maintain your frame (heh). That’s where the little T pill comes in. Pop that sucker in and return to the vibrancy of your youth. Heh, the women will be falling all over you and you can be free to do your body weight exercises instead of those mean ol’ weights.

Heh, while I’m on it, let’s discuss these lunkheads who use free weights. The poor dears just don’t understand the meanness of a man with a finely oiled beard and pomaded hair pumping out 200 pushups a day. Heh, it drives the wife crazy to see the sweat dripping off your moobs.

Think you need dieting and exercise to lose weight? Nah, just crank up the cold water and watch the fat go down the drain. I mean, heh, you can burn 4.2896 calories in just 30 miserable minutes in an arctic stream of water. Why do jumping jacks when you can crank in the cold, heh? And if you wack off in the shower you can burn a few more calories. That’s the only way your pecker will see action if you live like this anyway.


Heh, heh, heh, hehhhhhhhh


The Ohio

0600 – As I roll out of bed on this dull, cloudy, sunless morning I can’t help but think back over my life. All the things I’ve done. All the times I saved our great nation while in military intelligence. All the 9s and 10s I have bedded. The men I’ve intimidated with a glance or a tipping back of my cowboy hat. The infinite miles on the back of a hog.

Most men could only dream of my life. Living in the paradise of rural Ohio, surrounded by nubile college females only to eager to jump the bones of a man the age of their grandpa. When you’ve got it, you’ve got it.

As I walk to the bathroom to prepare myself for ComicCon 18 I have to stop and admire the reflection in the mirror. Arms and chest that can benchpress a Volkswagon, rakish goatee, and a cocky sneer that reminds one of a refined Sean Connery. If only people realized how blessed they are to be in my prescence, or to even walk the same Earth as I.

0822 – I step out of my door way, a ruggedly handsome man dressed to the nines in a tight white t-shirt and blue jeans. With a cowboy hat rakishly tilted and hand tooled leather boots, along with a distressed denim jacket. I am the spitting image of Wolverine, if he were a towering 6’4″. I climb onto my Harley and ride off.

Look out world. Here comes the man of all men.

The Hairy Anal Little Enfeebled Sissy

1215 – Dim light filters through my eyelids. I struggle to open them through the gunk crusted on them, a combination of vomit and eye discharge. I pull myself into a sitting position and stare through the hazy light at the stairs climbing into the main house. Why didn’t Mom wake me for breakfast?

1237 – There’s a stirring in the bed behind me. I squeal like a girl and whirl around. Doing so makes me dizzy and I fall on my butt on the floor. I lunge to my feet and peer into the covers. A head appears out of the sheets and bloodshot eyes stare into mine. My gaze travels to the stubbled cheeks and square jaw, the muscular shoulders and chest. This is another of my gay flings. I’m so glad Mom didn’t come wake me for breakfast.

1251 – As the New Orleans sunlight filters through the blackout shades on my basement windows, I begin to recall the debauchery of last night. The scenes in the gay bars. The stumbling down Bourbon Street arm in arm with this man. The defilement once we reached my basement room. Did Mom hear all of this?

1316 – “You’ve gotta go.” I tell my fling, “I can’t have my Mom know I brought a man home.” He blinks in confusion, then slowly rises and dresses (OMG, what a fine butt). We lock lips one last, lingering moment, then he climbs out of the window and is gone.

1341 – I dress and slowly mount the stairs. I smell Mom’s perfume and follow it’s sweet scent to the kitchen. She is drinking tea. I go to the medicine cabinet, grab my Triumeq, and fall into a chair. Mom hands me a glass of OJ and I take my meds. Then I begin to weep over the horror that is my life. No wonder I’m so abrasive and shrill.

Where’s my face paint?

Masculine Mormon

0500 – I wake to gentle sounds of snoring. I sit up slowly, so as not to wake anyone. I smile as I think of my 17 children and their 4 moms. How lucky I am to have them all, even though they get kind of expensive. Especially when the sister wives get to bickering.

0522 – As I begin to do my morning calisthenics, my mind drifts over how far I’ve come. From the crack house to the Tabernacle. From hangovers to Passovers. From shacking up with different women to having my harem of wives.

0601 – I go into the bathroom and strip off my Magic Underwear (TM) so that I can shower.

0613 – I roam the house and wake up my brood, gathering them into the living room for morning devotionals. I take as my text the entire book of Psalms. By the time I’m done, twilight has begun to settle and it’s time for evening devotionals.

1745 – For evening devotionals, to set the mood, I read from Solomon’s Song. My womenfolk are worked into a frenzy and rush the children outside so that we five can have a few hours worth of debauchery.

2114 – As I bask in the afterglow, I take in the last of the sunlight fading from the mesa overlooking our homestead. I have such a good life, almost as good as the Duke’s…..

The Con Artist

Me: Hey babe, you still up for a quick bang?
Her: Sure, where at?
Me:Where are you?
Her: Dairy Queen
Me:I’ll swing by and pick you up.

Her: Coming out now


911: Can I help you?
Me: I need an ambulance
911: What’s the trouble?
Me: I’m strapped to a fire hydrant and bleeding profusely from my anus.
911: Oh, dear. We’re sending an ambulance to your location. Would you like me to stay on the line?
Me: Yes, please. It was about 20 of them, carrying monopoly money and dildos. They kicked down my front door, dragged me shrieking into the night, stripped me naked, bound me to this hydrant, and proceeded to anally rape me with the dildos. And you know the worst part?
911: What’s that, sir?
Me: I was leaving in two hours to fly to the World Cup, but now….I’m……not…..going to…….make it
**sobbing and wailing**
911: Sir? SIR?


Don’t Jinx It

2200 – As I boot up my Macbook I take a sip of my vintage mocha cappuccino, setting it down on my pink and purple HelloKitty coaster after savoring the rich sweetness. My Macbook is booted and I open my administrator account to AKC and apply the finishing touches to my newest article, “Be Your Own Man.”

My mind reminisces over how I’ve come to this point. Me, a scrawny, henpecked twerp telling other men how to live their lives. I giggle to myself. If they only knew. I portray myself as a testosterone laden workout freak, but in reality I am a nerd with 6″ arms and a potbelly.

“Be your own man,” I write as I nervously check to make sure my wife hasn’t snuck into the room and is looking over my shoulder. I was in therapy for 3 weeks the last time she caught me “forgetting my place”. I knew I should have made sure she was gone before taking off my tutu. I still wake up crying over what she did to me. Who knew strap-ons came that big?

I furtively type and then set the article to publish early in the morning so that people will think I’m an early riser. In actuality I require 11 hours of beauty rest. I sleep in my silk robe with an avocado butter mask and earphones to allay my anxieties.

Tomorrow is my bi-weekly pedicure. My wife will drive me there in our Toyota RAV4 and then maybe I can talk her into letting me go to the local Starbucks for a treat. I’m so lucky to have a second mommy.