If I Were A Boy

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The recent attacks on women and our rights from American male leaders, authors and commentators have truly disturbed me. Rather than discuss the economy and bettering conditions for struggling Americans, the focus for many conservative lawmakers has been locked on our reproductive abilities. New laws requiring trans-vaginal ultra sounds for abortions (super rapey), calling women sluts for wanting contraception in our health care (how dare you try and keep yourself from having an unwanted pregnancy!), while simultaneously vilifying single mother for having the temerity to give birth to a child out of wedlock or raising them without a father (Santorum ridiculed single mothers for “breeding criminals” which apparently they made without any help from a father), putting doctors in an uncomfortable position of withholding information to a patient that could result in an abortion while removing any chance of malpractice due to complications (which is in direct conflict with the Hippocratic Oath) and other gems of gut wrenching rhetoric have all been the hottest topics. Women are being cut out of these conversations, because obviously our overactive uteri’s render us incapable of talking about what’s best for our bodies and families. What oh what makes us lesser than these grand humans running these parochial sausage parties? What would it be like if for just a day I could experience what it is to be a man? What would I do if I were part of the greatest of genders? Glad you asked. I’d do what is every man’s birthright and grandest ability: put my dick in as many things as possible. Here’s my top 5!

A Honeydew Melon

This delicious, sea foam colored treat from nature is an obvious choice. Warm it up and wait until it’s reached optimal ripeness and get to the getting! Honey dew me right!

My Mink Coat

If you’ve never touched a real mink coat, you ‘re missing out. A soft, furry dead animal may sound a little back woodsy, but that’s how you get pervy top 1% style (which is as close as I'll ever get to that). Only draw back would be that it was a gift from my 90 year-old Nana, so while I’d be giving the little sucker the business I’d have to stare at her initials ornately stitched into the lining. Hmmm…

Soft Boiled Ostrich Egg

I have chosen the ostrich egg, because, come on, if I had a dong, it’d be impressive and intimidating. The average egg couldn’t take its splendor. So, all I’d need is a good, Organic ostrich egg and a recipe from Gordon Ramsay on the best way to soft boil it. Delicious!

Turducken

Yes, the infamous turkey stuffed with a duck stuffed within a chicken. Let the puns begin. I could give it my own stuffing. Happy Thanksgiving, I brought the gravy! Watch out for bones, especially the one that’s turfuckin’ this turducken. And bonus: I generally steer away from sodomizing animals, but come on, it’s a foursome.

Rush Limbaugh’s Mouth

Just so we could get him to shut the fuck up for at least 10 minutes… ok, probably more like 4. But still...

Back to School: The Reunion

I graduated from Inglemoor High School in 2002, so you know what that means: 10-year reunion. If I had the chance to go back to high school I would say “fuck no” and promptly drink myself into a stupor to flush away the memories of the frizzy hair, braces and hanging at home with Mom on prom night (totally not bitter). Yet, I’m going to my reunion. Now why is that? Glad you asked! There are 5 reasons.

Free Drinks

This needs no explanation, obviously. Is your reunion asking for some form of a cover or charging for drinks? Well, high school sucked then and it apparently still sucks. Steal a bottle from behind that craft table the dickhead bartender is working with and run like you just heard your one night stand is pregnant.

Who’s Fat?

Deny it all you want, but there’s a part of you that’s curious if those mean girls tanked out on gravy and shame. I may not be married, but that also means I haven’t popped out a couple kids, wrecked my lady business and found a permanent home with elastic waisted pants. Plus, there’s a sense of catharsis walking into a cheaply decorated gymnasium and gazing upon the volcanic ass of cottage cheese of girls who previously called you “fire crotch.” Thank you, but that term is reserved only for significant others and the homeless guy who jerks off at my bus stop.

The Train Wrecks

So you’ve got 4 kids from 5 different dads? How’s that work? Oh, there was a threesome and you were all so excited you just decided to all take credit. How quaint! Perhaps, it’s horrible, but we all kind of wonder who went off the deep end once the caps came off. Does that guy every girl drooled over still work at the car wash and watch tapes of himself playing football? Glorious. That girl who convinced your prom date you actually had another so he’d go with someone else (still not bitter) got addicted to meth and became a stripper? Fantastic! Sure, it sounds mean, but think of the fun drinking game! Every time you see the homecoming queen’s husband ignore her and stare at another girl’s tits, drink!

The Face Off

Was there a particular person who went out of their way to ensure you would have years of therapy, move far away and change your name to forget the nightmare that were your teen years? Ever wonder what it would be like to see them again and tell them what an asshole they are? Hello 10-year reunion! Reality is, you won’t have to balls to actually say anything to them and will, instead, get belligerently drunk, mumble “dick face” and projectile vomit on them. But hey, that’s pretty effective, too.

The Showboat

If your life is a million times better now than it was 10 years ago, you want to show it off. Does it sound shallow and self-serving? Sure, but isn’t that was high school reunions are all about? As for me, I didn’t get fat, I have an awesome job and now I’ve actually been on a real date (more than one, even!). So, while you continue folding shirts at the Gap at your local mall, I’m sure you get loads of tail when you use your discount card at the Pink Berry. “Sure baby, you can have extra sprinkles.” Wink!