Sunday, October 29, 2006

RANT: Evil Women

I’m going to blame the Baroness. Yeah, you got me, it’s her fucking fault. Destro’s gal from GI Joe firmly displaced Penny from Inspector Gadget in my youngling brain as a primary object of childish lust. She had it all; dark hair; glasses; a skin-tight bodysuit that screamed “I verk for Cobra undt have gorgeous breasts!”; an agenda of her own; no shortage of brains; and, most importantly, she was fucking evil. That’s where I got my penchant. It’s why my characters make bad decisions when evil pretty faces come a’ calling. Evil women make me dumb, simple as that.

I know it’s not fair to blame all my past woes on a character from my childhood, but now that I’m past most of them I tend to get introspective. I wonder what it was that drew me to them so, that still draws me sometimes. Why do I rush in where a sane man would rush any other direction? I’ll tell ya. It’s ‘cause, way deep down, evil is hawtsome. S’why I crushed on the Baroness rather than someone safe, like Scarlet or Lady Jaye. Sure, Lady Jaye would never shoot me in the back, but she’d also never shoot someone else in the back to save my life. The Baroness would, and then we’d make sweet love over the fallen corpse. While Lady Jaye would likely shout warning, that’d be cold comfort at my funeral. At least with the Baroness, I’d get some sweet over-the-corpse lovin.’

I think that must be it. Evil is predictable while good is fickle. I know where I stand with a bad girl. I know they want something, ‘cause everybody wants something. While the good girls play coy, the Caveman finds he ain’t got time for that shite. He’s too old.

Now good girls, you take heart. I've got a cadre of friends I can refer you to, and I'll still look out for you. That's the Caveman thing to do.


Sunday, October 15, 2006

RAVE: I still got it...

After several years in a rewarding monogamous relationship, I'm still...


The Hornivore
Random Brutal Sex Master (RBSMm)

Don't ever marry, you're The Hornivore. Roaming, sexual, subhuman.

The Hornivores (you) are some of the most screwed up and naughty beings in the Universe. And their numbers are growing, mostly due to skipped or misused contraception. You care not. There's one thing you want, one sole need.

Half manly, half bestial, you act on instinct, and animal charisma smoothes the way. It's unlikely
Your exact opposite:
The Slow Dancer

Deliberate Gentle Love Dreamer
you're driven by much other than your own selfish, orgasmic requirements. Your appearance and personality have evolved for the hunt. Ass beckons, you oblige.

For the record, you can happily bang all personality types, however your match percentages might be low with the kinder, more sensible people of the world, purely because they all wish to avoid you. Good luck to them.

"One day, the villagers came with torches to the house. In the smoldering ashes, stray dogs looked for cooked flesh."

AVOID: The Priss, The Sonnet
CONSIDER: Half-Cocked, Genghis Khunt


Link: The 32-Type Dating Test by OkCupid - Free Online Dating.

I'm also a fucking corporate sell-out who missed two beautiful people who are perfect for one-another's day of matrimony. I tried to escape, but leadership requires sacrifice. Since I wasn't there to say it, I'll give it a whirl now: "Fuck yeah B&B. Have gorgeous jedi bebbehs!!!"