Today’s guest article was provided by sleaze enthusiast Arlo Endicott IV, which is such a fake name it hurts.
Hey there, sweetness. My name is Dante, but the ladies call me King Kong Ding Dong due to the 4.3 inch man-stump resting comfortably against my testis, right here in my Hanes. The girls that I have been with describe my Johnson as “a good size, I guess”. Translation: “GODZILLA IS ATTACKING THE CITY! THE CITY IN MY CROTCH!” As you can probably tell by my ape-like physique and flowing tresses of hair, I am a sex God. I am a piston-poppin’ ass-hammer, ready to jump into action whenever the opportunity to teach some young thing some new tricks presents itself. But do I just go giving it up to any hood-rat that comes my way? Hell no! I am a man of impeccable taste, and as such, there are several criteria that must be met before I am willing to throw down. I won’t just wash my junk in a Burger King bathroom sink for anyone.
To help you understand the caliber of females that I am talking about, I have compiled this list of 10 rules. If, and only if, a lady is able to meet these criteria, she may earn the distinct pleasure of spending up to 4 minutes in my love-dungeon while I spackle her insides with my erotica-nectar.
Rule #1 – No fat chicks
I don’t necessarily have a problem with the ladies of the bovine variety, but I have got my reputation to think of. I come from a long line of trim-chasers, and I would not want to let down all my badass pimp uncles who have come before me.
Rule #2 – No broke bitches
I am currently experiencing some very complicated payment issues with regard to my ’78 Pontiac Grand LeMans. As such, the banker saw fit to send a nice gentleman over to pick it up and keep it safe for me on one of the lots that they reserve for classic automobiles, to make sure that it doesn’t get vandalized and whatnot while I formulate a genius plan to get my $28 together for this month’s payment. Will I be selling fluids on eBay? We’ll see what the ToS says!
But I digress; I know no one wants me to bore them with tales of my advanced business acumen. Long story short, if you ain’t got some cab fare, you can’t touch my ball-hair. I love rhyming!
Rule #3 – Dante will NOT buy you a drink
This rule works in conjunction with Rule #2. The good news is, I don’t expect ladies to buy me drinks either. I have devised a foolproof system for maximizing the utility of my financial resources while still getting ass-canned at a bar. It’s so simple; I can’t believe no one has thought of it yet. All you need to do is ask the barkeep for an empty pint glass. He will naturally assume that you have just arrived and are eager to join in with friends on a pitcher of fine ale. WRONG! Now it’s just a matter of watching to see who is leaving the bar without finishing their drinks. Not only is this financially smart, but the mixture of beer, liquor, and daiquiris makes for an exotic cocktail that is sure to impress even the classiest of ladies, whether they work at Wal-Mart, IHOP, or even Target.
Rule #4 – No skinny chicks
Now I know what you’re thinking, and yes, at first glance Rule #4 does seem to fly in the face of Rule #1. But sometimes you have to play the odds. When I belly up to my favorite video roulette machine down at the diner by the tracks, I bet on red and black. CHA-CHING! That’s just common sense. Same goes for hoes. Ha ha! I rhymed again, and I wasn’t even trying! Rule #4 and Rule #1 are interchangeable depending on what type of talent is giving me the “do me eyes” at that particular moment. Plus, Rule #4 keeps away those creepy Calista Flockhart looking chicks. Just don’t tell my uncles.
Rule #5 – No Redheads
I already told you; I roll out in a LeMans, not a Firebird. (What a delicious pun!)
Rule #6 – All ladies must have at least 26 teeth
I know what you’re thinking, “But Dante, when you smile wide you look like a Jack-O-Lantern without a candle. Isn’t a minimum tooth requirement a double standard on your part”? Damn right it is. I already said that I’m a man of impeccable taste. Would you expect me to have anything less than twice as many standards?
Rule #7 – No women with STD’s
This one is a no-brainer. I don’t want any of those nasty infections finding their way onto my bangin’ stick. I have never been one to wear a raincoat in the shower if you know what I mean, so if your junk looks like actual garbage, keep it at the dump and out of my mom’s basement. *Note: Herpes is the exception to this rule. I’m not really worried about catching that particular disease anymore.
Rule #8 – You don’t bang Dante; Dante bangs you
This rule is very important. The lady will know why when I start bang bang bangin’ that drum. That’s right, precisely 3 bangs or thrusts if you will. Each bang is more exquisite than the last, with the third one being the grand finale. Ladies should not be surprised if they see fireworks! This is partly due to the fact that I live right between an elementary school and a fireworks store, but mostly it’s the bangin’. However, if the lady takes over with the bangs, then my drum stick is only good for two taps.
Rule #9 – No fertile chicks
If giving birth to babies as a result of sexual intercourse runs in your family, then I suggest you peddle your baby factory ass elsewhere. I really can’t stress this enough; you don’t want me raising your children.
Rule #10 – No dudes pretending to be chicks
As the old saying goes, “Fool me once; shame on you. Fool me for a seventh time in two years and the novelty of this gag has worn off”!
So ladies, if you feel that you fit these stringent criteria you can feel free to drop me a line. Just call the fireworks store next to my house and they’ll run over and grab me. I hope you don’t mind holding. I am having similar issues with my phone as I am with my car. Talk to you soon!