We Meet. We Greet. We Meat.


I’m drowning in your tears, people.  Aren’t you drowning in mine?  If not, you’re a better swimmer than I!

This is what I propose:  let’s be friends.  With the people we “think” we love — and for most of us, we “love” far too many people in far too short a timespan — we waste away the possibility of a real relationship by falling into the same traps.  Over and over and over.  Aren’t you tired?  I know I am, which is why I’ve taken vows, and changed a major routine in my life that has been a part of my life for more than a decade.


Basicly, I’m tired of fucking you.  I’m tired of fucking all of you.  It’s always the same shit:  We meet.  We greet.  We meat.  Sometimes, there are many outings before anything.  Dinners, movies, carnivals, arcades, picnics, amusement parks, bullshit conversations on nothing of any significant value! — we partake in all of these events, in order to justify a mutual reward.  Call it what you want, now we’re fucking.


Look at it this way, and call me an obnoxious liar if you will, I don’t care.  Fucking takes time.  In taking the time to fuck, time is taken away from all those fun and silly events we partook of before we introduced fucking.  We fall under the weight of our senses.  We give into infatuation and lust, and we do it all the time! 


Let’s be friends.  Let’s, you and me, and you and you, be the kind of friends that we are with our  REAL FRIENDS!  Imagine that.  Imagine, you as a man, meeting a woman, greeting a woman, and seriously working towards finding out whether she’s the kind of woman that would accept ALL of your HIDDEN faults.  If pizza and beer make you belch, the kind of belch you release at a football party with your boys, and you all laugh and admire the length of the belch, why not give that a shot with the girl you’re dating?  I mean, you know that after you two have fucked, that belch will be known to her once you grow comfortable around each other.  You know it, and I know, and she knows it!  Do it now!  If she can’t hack it, take her home, go home, and wack it.  Next!


Women, you are not without blame when it comes to these unnecessary courtesies, that only serve to hide who you really are.  Instead of laughing at ALL of my corny jokes, because you think you care for my feelings — and I tell corny jokes by the bushel — give me the gasface, and let me know when to shut up.  And don’t only talk to your girlfriends about how you could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch;  tell me too!  If I can’t hack it, what the fuck is it worth talking to me?  Why all the shame?  It’s a waste of time.  Once we’re fucking, I’m gonna find out anyway!  No one’s that good the “first time”!  But forget all that, and pay attention to this:


No more secrets.  No more unnecessary courtesies.  No more lies.  Give all of yourself, and take nothing but all of the person of your interest.  Save time, “eggs”, and semen by moving on the very second you know you’ve been lied to.  Don’t ignore anything.  Be friends.  BE REAL FRIENDS. 


Kiss your dates, go home, and rub one off.  There’s nothing wrong with kissing.  Kissing tells you a lot about the person you’re kissing.  It’s difficult to lie with a kiss.

Kiss me.  If you feel something poking the bottom of your belly or the top of your thigh, (depending on your height), ignore it.  I promise I will, — My Friend.


2 responses to “We Meet. We Greet. We Meat.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s