The musings of a madman...

       Not that anyone needed to know this, but I might have benefitted in my earlier days from some good dating advice.   One might say it was a small miracle that I escaped high school without my virginity. This story ain’t about that… Well, not directly.      See, I always have this thing where I am willing to expend a little effort to see people do well, even if that means they will do better than I am doing or have done.   With that in mind, I used the time I have had in the house over the past seven months helping men with the tools they might use to assist them in securing more and better women.      I hear you laughing, but these kids these days have it MADE.   They have the whole of the internet, cell phones – of which I did not have until age 21 – are standard now, and ON those phones cameras are unavoidable under nearly any stretch short of the kind you send a kid into a gas station counties away because you will be using it to sell crack.   They have dating sites whe

     You’ve seen them in the news and on the internets.  People showing up to the airport with the damndest of animals; squirrels, peacocks, sugar gliders, children, hamsters/gerbils, untrained dogs and basically any other animal they probably shouldn’t be trying to bring into the passenger compartment in an airplane.  Laws are catching up with these silly-ass attempts at shirking an otherwise ill-defined system and I guess it is all for the better.      But did I tell y’all about my emotional support rooster? Stop laughing, it was a real thing.  I didn’t even bother giving him a name. As the great both of you may be aware, I LIVE for a good inappropriate double entendre, and there is no doubler of the doubles of being able to talk about my cock and not having it exist as a reference to my winky.  One could go as far as to say that my gymnastics with the English language is important to normal existence for me, so the existence of my pet rooster was an exercise in emotional s