Hiding

Sorry about the messed up formatting. Blogspot sucks. Now I'm going to wind up on a site dissing shitty typesetting. 

Are you on the DL, hiding in a closet, protecting your identity, discrete, private...and have no photo editing skills (such as familiarizing yourself with the crop tool)? Then this post is for you!

I've been looking for you for the past year, but you are illusive. I think I found you, but am not sure. Only you will really know. I have assembled a portfolio of photos that might look like you.

The reason you are only able to get with blind guys with lower standards than the ones used by the DMV for their driver license exams is because we can't see beyond your bad coverup photos to give your countenance a little slack. So peep these pix, slackers, and seek help for your presentation style.

Not one of these photos uses the sunglasses and hat from 20 feet away combo. Hmph!

Are you suffocating your girlfriend in a clear balloon or blown up condom? What's up with that translucent blur? Why not just take the eyepatch on your forehead and have her wear it?

This gives a new meaning to "blockheads"

Warped records on your friends' faces is not cute.

Hanging out with the Elephant Man will definitely make you look better.
Too bad you had to throw acid in your friends face.

Your girls look like they have pantyhose on their heads like they are about to rob a Chemical Bank in 1976.

Pixels are contemporary, so his photo might actually be from be from this millennium.

This is just scary. What the fuck is going on with that grid on his face, the fat, the tongue, the mess...

Not only will he smell like a nasty ashtray, but how much do you really need to smoke?

So you are all crooked and flashed out; a typical strategy.

The old "he was so ugly, I had to put a bag on his head" look. What happens when the bag comes of during sex and you see that the guy you are fucking is your dad?

The square box on the head turns you into billboard space that can be rented. "Your ad here."

Uh, You have no clothes but manage to carry around a piece of paper to stick to your head when you are taking photographs fo yourself in the woods. Watch out for the raccoons.

Not only did you steal screen grab from a porn video to pretend is yours, but depending who you are chatting with, you can claim you're good at any role: the top with the black splotch on your face, or the bottom with the blue triangle on your mug.

Scattering fireplace ashes on your face look isn't as romantic as sitting in front of a fireplace. Nice try, but it didn't work.

This is just weird. I don't know if I can get with Green Lantern.

You are orange with a black blob on your face. Is this for Halloween?  Not a cute trick. 

The ad was better before the guy got in front of it. 

What's up with the pixelated boa?

He needs a hot oil treatment for his hair. Maybe he ran out of doorags.

Talk about over-gown bushes. 

The crap on the shelves behind you is not good feng shui.


And home girl is not helping your game either.

Just relaxing with an eraser face.

WOW! Is that Flash standing next to you in the folding chair factory?

Oops! I forgot to put on shorts.

A towel could have been easily draped over his head.

Did he place a plastic white bag over his friend's head? And what a dump.

Why so shy, especially in that loud plaid shirt?

OK. That's all folks!

How Big Is It?

Who doesn't love a good dick shot? Well, these guys figured they'd use real-life examples for comparison to demonstrate the size of their dicks since everyone is hip the instant eight-inch dick phenomena online. You know, everyone's dick size starts at eight inches in online cruising profiles.

Are you not familiar with the formula of creating the statistics for your ad? Here is how it goes: Weight is reduced by three-fourths the amount of the waist size. So if you have a size 40 waist, take off thirty pounds. Age only goes in reverse once you hit 35; take off a year for each birthday. HIV status is whatever it was when you were 11 years old, before the priests started molesting you.

Dick size always starts at eight inches, with an extra half-inch added for each real inch. So if you have a four-inch dick (which is a good size since it is the only one you have), you wind up with a ten-inch dick. Below are creative approaches to making math sexy again.

Ahhh… nothing like good old advertising.

The colorful circles are meant to highlight the potential length and girth of the soft dick, yet somehow not be as tacky and senseless as they are. Are they quarter-sized or half-dollar sized or Canadian Two-nie sized? Try again.

The TV remote control. This one is for Cable Vision. Now we know how big Batman really is!

Go Cable Vision, sponsor of dick-measuring! What channel is he on? Look at that bush.

A new porn cable provider has emerged:  Cumcast!

Phone bone, anyone?

The Palm Treo 700. Why didn't Palm use this strategy to show how much smaller their handsets are when compared to Blackberry? And RIM could have run to the bank with a similar visual for their African-American-targeted ad campaigns, because "Once you go black, you don't go back."

The booze bottle/can. Now you know what kind of guy he is based on his drink preference.

Bud=easy pick-up of average out-of-shape guy at the jock bar or leather bottom who took a cab and didn't ride his imaginary hog to the S&M bar. (He likes to suffer. Why else would he drink that swill?)

Samuel Adams Light=frat boy with aspirations of being a boring banker. Belly up in bed. A tricky investment, no matter how attractive the package.

Smirnoff Arctic Berry=Modern fruit; might take more than one drink to get to his dumpy apartment (profiled elsewhere in this blog) that he keeps a secret from his Architectural Digest buddies.

A bottle of lube. Now you know what sort of spermicide rash you can expect to get when you mess with him. At least he is playing safely. The cock is hot, but the manicure is turning me off. And his sac is looking out of whack.

Spray-on Pam Olive OIl is this generation's Crisco. Doesn't dry up no matter hot it gets. Best used with Teflon condoms.

Is that Monopoly money? I'll take the Reading Railroad to Park Place for $1, please.

A mouse. A necessity for online-cruising. Is this the Lord of the Dell? Great composition. Another product endorsement strategy missed by Dell.

Holy 20 inches, Batman! This guy says his dick is 20 inches. Check the text below the photo. Again, the failure of self-reporting. A nice dick, but nowhere near 20 centimeters, let alone over a foot -and-a-half!

A ruler. Your man may be nerdy, especially with that custom-print mouse pad of his girlfriend's face. He knows there is no disputing the power of a wooden ruler, particularly since he is into spanking. I clock it at nine-and-a-half inches. That mouse pad chic is getting it good!

Beautiful

How many "health and beauty aide" products do you use? I am easy.  A single bar of soap is in my shower. The few other bottles of lotion, mouthwash, etc. are neatly hidden below the sink or in the "medicine" cabinet above the sink in the bathroom.

Who needs to be assaulted by a graveyard of nearly empty bottles collecting dust the minute they walk into the bathroom or wake up and sit up in bed to look at the pile of crap on the dresser top, a seen below? Gross. Clean your fucking house and put some damn art up above the dresser.

First we have this dude with crap all over the place, including too many beauty products on the dresser. Somewhere in there are the essentials like a jewelry box, tissues, dildo, and remote control. Start digging for 'em. Is that a maple syrup bottle next to the gallon of water?

American Eagle may be packing trade, but the overflow of dirty old bottles of shit turns me off and makes my American Eagle take a nose dive. Get organized, horder.

Army man is hot, but the whole place is a mess. I bet he lost his belt somewhere in that hole. The jewels of the crown are in the right-hand corner: He could not fit another near-empty bottle of nasty Latrine mouth was up there.

This beauty queen is not giving me sex appeal in the drugstore's makeup aisle. Go the "Family Planning" section and stand in front of the condoms, and not the female condoms.

The eyebrow waxer has his twenty (really) products in check on the shelves. He is clearly high-
maintenance, and is too self-involved to have realized he could have butched up this photo slightly by taking the photo from the other side, thereby cropping out the fade creams.

Tripping

I've just completed a year-long world tour, scouring the lowest depths of mankind's internet hook-up sites, collecting offensively wrong photos that men think will make them sexy and want you to fuck them. They are just fucked!

Hearing that she missed me, I paid a visit to grandmother's house. Through the woods I went, wearing my red clitoral hood, dodging bear traps and police. Woodsy Owl tipped me off about who needed to be exposed for the aesthetically senseless men they are. Take a look.

The first stop at grandmother's house is the living room, where her charming adolescent grandson (who is also cruising online) greets us in front of the hutch filled with books no one was read in 25 years, presenting his latest 8th grade current events collage. Sexy! Shall I sit on the shit-covered pink love seat of on the movie theater-red sofa beneath the exposed bulb of the shaft lamp that looks like it is about to fall over set the horror house ablaze?

At the other side of the living room, a gorgeous gentle lion portraits rests above the welcoming plaid couch. Cousin Mike is modeling his new drawers here since the lighting from the $20 hardware store chandelier is ever-flattering.  

Near cousin Mike is the very futuristic Johnnie (March 2011 date stamp), who enthusiastically flashed me a "hail Satan" or whatever hand gesture in front of the family portrait draped with PalmSunday church souvenirs. I can;t recall what he was watching on television, but the Holly Hobby dolls on the TV set and infants toys on the floor may have been moor interesting. Love his chewed navy blue manicure and poodle hairdo.

In the recreation room, Papo could be seen showing off not only his orange thong, but his body that he'd been pumping up in the garage gym. Feeling showy, he posed for two photos. He seemed happy to have an actual human being as an audience since he'd grown tired of flexing for the unresponsive thumb-sucking doll on the wagon wheel chair that was propped up on the nightstand in front of the window and the disinterested naked woman figuring lamps.

After all that photo-taking, I headed to grandma's kitchen to see who'd be snacking in there and maybe taste her delicious pot pie. Ah, #19 is here, but with a 2005 feeling (see the date stamp). Look at that beautiful flower lace curtain framing him. And what is al that crap on the fridge? The plastic covering the drop ceiling light is downright hot! I hope when I come in for a midnight snack, I can tell the difference between the Lysol, ant poison spray, and whipped cream atop the cupboard on the right.

Upstairs, the twins are enjoying some quiet time meditating on the splendid wall paper and matching drapes.

After the long journey, I was ready for a nap, but Sexy_Ass_2001 was already sleeping in the bed comfortably covered in children's Ralph Lauren knock-off sheets, bordered by two different faux wood paneling styles.

I think I will settle in right next to him since he looks so inviting.