Advice Column: The Grass Has Better Dick On The Other Side

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Oh, You're Offended? Sorry, Not Sorry.

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Advice Column: Taking One For The Team

Dear J-Wun aka Ghetto Genius, 

Been following you for a minute and can't thank you enough for coming back. Days are much brighter now. Ok, my question for you - A few weeks ago, my buddies and I were at a bar.  We got shit faced and ended up meeting a group of random hot chicks.  The problem was, the chick I ended up talking to the whole night thought she was SO fucking hot when really, she was fluffy, wore inappropriate clothes for her size, talked way too much about herself and thought she was the whole 9.  I was completely drunk and I realized beer goggles couldn't get past trying to "take one for the team" with the chubster.  Even though I knew I had to so my buddy could get laid.     

What gives man? 

Sincerely,
Taking One for the Team



Dear Taking One for the Team,

All men have made the sacrifice.  The grenade jumping, dynamite diving, the bazooka belly flop.  I'm talking about hooking up with THAT one heinous chick so that your buddy could seal the deal with her friend.  And when I say, "seal the deal," I'm talking about smashing.  Plain.And.Simple.  Keep in mind too, when I say THAT chick, I don't mean that in any type of cool or pimp daddy way.  Hell nah.  I mean that as something you should take with a grain of fucking salt, bundle it up and throw it away.  Forever.  Take it to the grave.  Don't forget to bathe in 50 fucking bath bombs made from all things Clorox product related for a few days too.

Taking one for the team is something you should never be proud of. HOW-THE-FUCK-EVER, if it gets your buddy laid, then that shows loyalty and good karma. Because when it's time for you to step up to the plate and smash that hot chick from across the bar, that favor you did for your buddy will pay off ten-fold. Well...sometimes. I mean, if your buddy is a total fucking dickbag, then it looks like you'll be either masturbating with your tears when you get home, or banging another broad with a brown bag over her head. But hey, sometimes dry streaks happen. But I digress...

I remember when I jumped on my first grenade. It was in college. And it was fucking awful. The bitch was ugly as sin, loved to eat, talked a lot and had more hair on her vagina than a 70's porn star.  Now you're probably asking, "Why did you choose to have sex with her, J-Wunder?!" I didn't. I was fucking wasted beyond belief.  It just so happened that when my buddy took a fellow lady on a ride to Pound Town, it was in the living room of the hot chick and her ugly roommates apartment. That right there called for me and cyclops to go to her room. Cyclops? Yeah, the bitch was cross-eyed so bad, it looked like she had one fucking eye. Try sitting in a room, wasted, and have someone hitting on you.  Wanting the dilznick so fucking bad that they basically take off their clothes to implicate they want to fuck you.  I never sobered up so fast in my life. Matter of fact, I was so scared to touch her that my dick inverted into my stomach which made me look like, I too, had a vagina. A shaved one...but nonetheless a mud flapping imposter.

Here I am, willing to jump on a grenade, but not risk my life. Risk my reputation. Risk the very thought that J-Wunder fucked a one-eyed girl with a vagina the size of a London Broil. No way, no fucking how was this happening. Then came the questions?

What? You're too good for me? I'm too ugly? Why did you come over to my apartment if you didn't want a piece? Are you scared to be taken advantage of by a REAL woman?

This bitch obviously didn't get the memo that was sent out to the crew. Am I too good for you?  Based on looks, One-Eye Bandit, yes. Are you too ugly?  Have you looked at yourself in the fucking mirror lately? For fuck sakes, you're atrocious lady!  Hey, sorry for sounding like a complete fucking dick, ladies, but for fucks sake...I'm just being real!

Why did I come over to your apartment if I didn't want a piece? Bitch, two things: 1) My buddy wants to bang your hot ass roommate then cum on her back, so I'm here for support, 2) The only piece of anything I want, is that fucking slice of pizza I warmed up in your microwave that I can't go get now, because there's a goddamn fuck fest going on in your living room. Are you scared to be taken advantage of by a REAL woman?  The only thing real is that fucking bush you call pubic hair.

Never thought I would encounter a grenade so big. So difficult. So damn fucked up. But I'm a guy, and guys follow guy code. Til fucking death. Now does that mean I need to touch this chick? Nope.  As long as I keep her occupied until my buddy and her roommate finish, then mission accomplished.  You need to understand, it's these women, that keep the hot chicks from fucking dudes. They spoil that moment. The moment when the guy thinks he has it in the bag then cyclops walks up. All of the sudden the Haterade kicks in. She's tired. She wants to go home. That guy looks sleezy. He might have an STD. Blah, blah, blah.  Do you know how many other dudes had to deal with this chick so their buddies could bang the chick my buddy was fucking? Hundreds. I'm just sayin'.  Now, how many guys actually went through with fucking good 'ol One-Eyed Willy remains to be seen, but I bet she got hers. Which brings me to my point of your question.

This chick that you couldn't get yourself to fuck has fucked dozens of men based on taking advantage of the grenade rule. She plays the game because she knows that's the only way she'll get laid (nowadays, people will just fuck to fuck). Hell, if not laid, then at least giving someone dome. Think about it. You know you're ugly as shit so why not hate on men if you know all they want to do is nail your roommate/friend? Men hate chicks that hate, that's why we created the grenade rule. Cyclops is now reaping the benefits because of this rule. But don't get it twisted. Girls do this shit too...take one for the team when it comes down to SERIOUS desperate times and measures. So yeah, feel bad if you're the grenade. Shit, I know I've been a time or 40.

Your experience with Fatty Magee knows this rule all too well. It's up to you to either do what I did and keep her occupied by playing 3 hours of card games. Or, just say fuck it and go deep sea fishing my friend. Either way, your buddy will be proud and have your back when it's time for you to get yours.

Bros before Hoes,

J-Wunder

Can't Get Out Of This One, Granny!

The Angry Employee Who Hates His Female Co-Workers

best of craigslist > philadelphia > To the women who work in my office... I hate you
Originally Posted: Fri, 10 Nov 16:56 EST 


To the women who work in my office... I hate you

Date: 2006-11-10, 4:56PM EST

Girl with the bright blonde weave who works in reception- I don't know how you got your job, you are so uneducated it makes me sick. Did you graduate grammar school? I think I would respect you more if the answer to that is no. I want to throw a rock at your face every time I walk by when you are answering the phone and you say something like: who you callin'for? or "he in a meetin' right now" or my personal favorite, "who this is?" I bet the people on the other end of the phone want to throw a rock at your face too. I also can't stand when I get message notes from you that are written like so: Mr. Smith called hes wanting to kno wen he shuld ecspect the letter of aprovle. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? It amazes me that the only two things in your job description are answering phones and taking phone messages and you can't do either of those things! 

Tall girl in design with the short brown hair- You have horrendous body odor! I'm not talking a little stench here and there I am talking everyday when you walk into the building people drop dead. I don't know how you don't notice it. I'm going to buy you deodorant for Christmas. 

Fat woman who works in suite 19- I don't know exactly what you do for this company, but I know far too much about your personal life. When you talk to your boyfriend on company time, please refrain from telling him it felt so good when he slipped his hard dick into your fat ass! Yea I heard that, and so does everyone else that walks by your suite when you are on the phone. It's disgusting, and we don't want to hear about it, so keep your voice down. 

Blonde woman who works for accounting- I know that you are 30, not 25 and I also know that at the Christmas party last year you had sex with the bosses son in the broom closet and that he got you pregnant. Please don't insult me in front of our coworkers again or I will tell everyone. 

Hot girl that works in sales- When you wear that brown skirt with the white flower on the bottom and you sit down, we can all see that you don't wear panties. 

Boss' old receptionist- My name is not, John, Jason, Jack, Jim or Jared- it's Evan. 

Middle age woman who works in reception- Your job is not that hard. You answer phones, put people on hold, and take messages. I don't care that you were up late cleaning the house or that you sat up all night waiting for you delinquent son to get home, that does not give you a reason to get rude with a customer or walk around bitching about how your job is so stressful. Half of us come in still drunk from the night before, but we never yell at clients, bitch about our family members or say our jobs are soooo hard. 

Pregnant bitch- There is only one of you, so no need for further description but let it be known that you are not the first person to ever get knocked up! You are not the first person to get heart burn, you are not the first person to get morning sickness. You are not the first person to pee their pants because the baby put too much pressure on your bladder and you certainly are not the first person who has had strange cravings for cheese and anchovies. Stop complaining about it! 

Little intern girl- You are so cute with your stringy brown hair, acne and braces but your coffee skills are lacking. All I ever want is a large black coffee but you seem to thing that I would rather a low-fat latte, or a caramel machiato, or even a Chai Tea. Nope I don't want those, I just want a damn black coffee! Also, you obviously don't know your alphabet because my filing cabinet is a mess. F does not come after R, sweetie. Do you want to flunk the class you are doing this internship for? No? You better shape your ass up and get me the right coffee then! 

Pretty girl who is head of the writing department- You are the only girl who works in this office that I can stand. You greet me every morning with a bright smile and a cheery hello. And you are so damn smart. No wonder you are 22 and head of the department that could pretty much make or break our company. One time I asked you the Circumference of the earth and you kew it! Usually I would think that is weird and dork but from you, I find it really hot. I also like that you are the only girl in the company that hasn't slept with someone that works with us. But for the record, if you slept with me, I wouldn't respect you any less. 

Hispanic girl who works in design- You wear way too much makeup, I hate that you draw your eyebrows on, and I'm pretty sure you have an adams apple and are a man. 

35 year old secretary- You have a 20 year old son, and a 15 year old son... yet you dress like you are 16. I would be embarrassed to be your children. Oh and you look really stupid when you wear that plaid school-girl skirt with the white tights and hooker boots. This is an office... not a brothel. 


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Aged Like A Fine Wine Cooler

Yo! What in the actual fuck, y'all?!

I was kicking it in the pool this past weekend...relaxing, peeing in the shallow end then it hit me - I'm 40 and I'm aging like a goddamn old person. Not like a cool old person either. I'm talking about an old person who hates every motherfucking thing known to man but gets their joys off the worst shit in the world.

People. Friends. Foods. People. Music. Did I say people, yet?

I can barely tolerate shit. Hell, I can barely tolerate ME.

On the real, I've lost a step...or a hundred.

It's like I used to have rhythm. Now, I look worse than Carlton dancing to Tom Jones' Greatest Hits. I guess it's not unusual to be loved by anyone bc that's how a motherfucker feels now. But ask me how many fucks I give?

Music is complete shit. Maybe that's why. Or is it?

Social media has become a newsfeed of experts who haven't finished high school that think they know more than actual experts. Look, I don't give a fuck if you are on the left or right side. All those motherfuckers have drank way too much of the political Kool-Aid. Bottom line, our country, our world is COMPLETELY FUCKED.

There are only a few things I have going for me at this stage of my life:

- Booze: I still drink it.
- Sex: I still have it.
- Masturbating: I still do it.

Before I go off on the deep end, can I just tell you guys that my beard has become more white by the day? Not that I'm complaining but man, what the fuck happened to me in the last year? Oh, that's right...I got fucking older. Not wiser. Not dumber. Just older. Maybe some brain lapses along the way...but hey, let's not try and get all WebMD and shit. This isn't the time nor the place.

I'm not here to remind all of us old folks that our backs hurt, our pubes turn colors like the seasons and we start to hate more people every day. I'm just here to remind y'all that sometimes, we don't age like a fine wine...we age more like a Wine Cooler. Notice how I didn't say, "Fine Wine Cooler" bc there is nothing fine about that shit.

This is how fucked up I've been...I'm starting to enjoy White Claw.

WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK?!

And why the fuck are they charging $16.99 for a 12 pack?! See what I'm saying?! I know the price bc I was at the grocery store the other day trying to stock up on some stool softener to get my dookie on point and I decided to browse the booze aisle and all I cared about was getting me some White Claw. What have I become? The older I get, am I starting to become my worst nightmare?

A BASIC FUCKING BITCH?

*cue H-Bomb saying, "Bitch, you've been a basic bitch yo whole life, motherfucker!"*

I was the guy who loved craft beer, great wines and amazing booze. Now, I don't even know who I am anymore.

The other day, I yelled at some high schoolers outside my car to turn down their music. I gotta be honest, I have no fucking clue what the fuck they were listening to. All I know is that it sounded awful and it made me have vertigo. I was that guy. I was that OLD guy.

It gets worse people.

Sometimes during my lunch at work, I like to go on walks. Like, around the block and shit. You know the only walking I did before I turned 40? It was to the bar...for 2 hours then back to work. Pray for me bc I don't know who this monster is.

I drink tea in the morning. Fucking tea! By the way, Traditional Medicinals is really great and their products have something for everyone. See...what the fuck?! Who am I?! If my mom were to read this shit, she would have a fucking heart attack.

As I'm typing, I'm realizing I have no fucking idea what I actually wrote, let alone, if any of this shit makes any fucking sense. That's just something we will all have to get used to I guess. Your boy GG going on tangents about nothing, drinking White Claw and watching those SPCA commercials where Sarah fucking Mclaughlin makes you want to adopt every fucking animal bc that's what good people do. What's next? Me owning a bunch of fucking cats and hummingbird feeders bc "I just love everything about them".

The next time one of you see me, please slap the shit out of me, tell me to wake the fuck up, then pour half a bottle of tequila down my throat so I can find where my ballsack has been hiding.

I'm in a state of CODE RED.

I need to be saved. I don't care if it's from the local priest who might touch my weiner for committing sins or Karen who wants to speak to the manager every time she steps into a Target.

Someone save a hoe. This hoe.

Your hoe.

J-Wunderhoe.