Bad Boys

Who doesn't like a bad boy? They add a bit of excitement, make everything seem slightly forbidden. We say we want a nice guy to take care of us and build a life with, but really we want some knife wielding fuckpig to spit in our mouths while nailing us and slap us, calling us dirty little cock whores.

Romance is a strange thing.

My romantic proclivities extend to my extensive collection of films of an adult nature with all male casts. Just the other day I found a naughty little stroke flick to divert my attention, and realized a few minutes in that the top was wearing an ankle monitoring bracelet. AN ANKLE MONITORING BRACELET!!!

One would think his theatrical appearance might violate the terms of his parole.

An Open Letter To The Pregnant Woman At The Starbucks In Union Square

Dear Pregnant Woman at the Starbucks in Union Square,

You may not remember me, but I'm the gay guy who looks kind of like Drew Carey who let you cut in front of me in the line for the bathroom at the Starbucks in Union Square today. I just wanted to take a brief moment to thank you so much for leaving your urine all over the toilet seat for me to clean up so that the lady in line behind me didn't think I peed on the seat. My day was going so well that the perfect capper was cleaning the human waste of a perfect stranger.

For free.

I mean, it's one thing to use the bathroom after a short, drunk longshoreman just before closing time at the Drink'n'Fuck Tavern. In that situation, a little tinkle on the seat is a pleasant surprise, in comparison to chunky vomit or a bloody condom. But this was a Starbucks.

At 3:00 PM.

On a Thursday.

And as I believe I noticed earlier, you are not a short, drunk longshoreman, but a pregnant woman. I thought women were supposed to be all fastidious about using the bathroom. At least, that's the impression I always got from the condescending material of countless untalented, shoulder-pad-blazer wearing female stand-up comics in the '80s. Further, I grant you that as a gay man I have only the most rudimentary understanding of how your lady business works, but how the fuck does a WOMAN even get urine all over the toilet seat?

...Ohhhh, my friend Ashley tells me because some women “hover.” REALLY!?!?!? First off, you couldn't have lifted the seat? I mean, if your ass wasn't going to come in contact with the seat, why not just lift it? But really, are a couple of bum germs really that dangerous? Are you really that worried about “THE BABY?” A few germs never hurt anyone. Look at New Jersey. Those people practically live in their own filth, yet they seem a hardy, if somewhat mouthbreathing lot.

Your proclivity toward cleanliness certainly seems to be selective, as other people's theoretical ass microbes are so frightening that you have to engage in some sort of excretory acrobatics, yet leaving your HOT, STEAMING PISS all over the seat for the next comer is totally kosher.

So thanks. It's not often enough that I get to perform complimentary waste management as a thank you for my prior good deed. I hope your fetus goes six weeks past term, weighs 18lbs and comes out sideways.

Smooches!

Patrick