Category Archives: Fashion

Short Temper

I’m convinced next years trend in women’s footwear will be a pair of circus clown stilts. How tall are these chick’s heels gonna get for Christ sakes!? That’s right ladies, no more puny 6 inchers or aircraft carrier-like platform heels, in 2013 just go all the way, go for the fucking stilts. In the name of fashion, women will have to duck to get through doorways, or take them off by leaning against a tree or strapping them to the roof like ski’s if they want to drive anywhere.

“Excuse me miss, would you like to check your coat and stilts?”

Being a short male in this society is basically the equivalent of having an Ambrose Everett Burnside mustache affixed to your lip; no girl is ever going to fuck you without money being exchanged. But the real jab in the eye is that you also have to compete with ever increasing heel sizes. So now if I want to talk to a girl I look like some retard jockey standing next to his decorated horse!

I’ll end up having to marry a 4’1″ elderly Cambodian woman by the name of Hua and we’ll always get into heated arguments because I can never pronounce her name correctly and she’ll storm out right in the middle of dinner, slamming the door to our little tiny thatch-woven hut a little too hard and while she’s out having ‘revenge sex’ with some tall guy from the village across the river, I’ll have to spend the next 3 hours foraging around the woods looking for one specific species of palm to repair the damaged door before sundown because little hungry vermin will no doubt enter the hole and steal the last of our rice rations like they did last time that little old cheating Cambodian bitch broke the door…. all because I’m fucking short, all because none of you women like short men!

And even you short women don’t like short men! Where do you tiny freaks get off with your squat, stubby billiard table legs thinking you can just scoff at me because you’re wearing massive heels!? Don’t I deserve the chance to have sex with you than never talk to you again like those other guys!? Never mind that I’ve got a Pringles can dangling between my legs… as long as you’ve got your 10-inch platform astronaut boots I guess I’ll be spending my Saturday nights browsing craigslist for Cambodians.



Stetson. A classic woodsy scent, with harmonious bergamot and cedar. A perfect fragrance for that special occasion… such as driving around town with a woman on your back. For the man that wants to say: “No baby, today my cologne’s riding shotgun”. $45 TJMaxx   Continue reading

Happy Halloween

Hey girls, I know you spent so much time, effort and creative energy taking your costume out of the bag this year. How on Earth did you come up with the idea to be a pirate!? The historical accuracy is astounding!

I remember reading a biography on the infamous Blackbeard the pirate once. Scholars talked about how he would always sail into port screaming “Whooo Yeaaah Halloween Motherfucker!” with his tits and ass spilling out of his tight skimpy revealing outfit. A fearsome pirate he was; polystyrene sword by his side. Most times off the docks he’d be screaming at his meaty boyfriend out in the street to stop throwing beer bottles and trying to start fights with other revelers. Blackbeard would often leave his keys, money or ID back on the ship. But this didn’t bother Blackbeard, he never had to pay for anything, including drinks. Often these nights in port would end in tears and smeared mascara, but some nights totally, like, fucking rocked – going down on some random villager in a bathroom stall who let Blackbeard snort his last crumbs of molly off the toilet paper dispenser at Club Intrigue. And after a raucous night on the town Blackbeard would often drunkenly stumble back to his ship carrying his high heels in hand because his feet would be so sore from dancing to laser lights and loud techno all night. Such is the legend of Blackbeard and you girl’s nailed it!