Monday, January 5, 2009

Douchebag! Douchebag!

I'm retiring David Wygant posts after this one, I promise. Because I think this is his masterpiece and I won't be able to top it.

Dirty Talk The Naked Truth
It’s funny – my life is really interesting, and it’s a blast.(If you say so) I work a lot – I would definitely be considered a workaholic (thanks for clearing that up) – a lot of these blogs are written at two o’clock in the morning. (Gee, i couldn't tell. What with all the fine editing and not at all redundant sentences. Fuckbag.)
But anyway, then we went for a hike, we’ve probably written about 30 blogs today, we did some audio (what the hell is he talking about? Is this a camp? Who pays for this?)– we did a new audio confession, another one of my Girls Tell All series tonight – which is a very interesting product that is coming out that I’ll tell you about in a week or two. (Can't wait.)
Yakub and Khiem (oh, them)were asking me tonight how have I become so good at dirty talk. And really, I love dirty talk. (So do I. You're a cocksucker.)And let’s not say ‘dirty,’ I’d rather use the term ‘naughty.’(Ok. You're a dick smoker)
So how did I get so good at naughty talk? (By being a self absorbed asshole?)
I have to thank my college girlfriend. Not Amy Alterman, Amy Alterman was my college girlfriend junior year. (Glad that's cleared up)I used to call her FISP – which stood for Flicking Itching Scratching and Picking (Sounds like a keeper!)– she was definitely very neurotic, and I teased her, of course. I’ve always been teasing women since I was a child! (And he's still single, gals!)
But I have to thank Ellen Weinberger. Ellen Weinberger was this hot, sexy girl from Livingston, New Jersey, that I went to American University with. (Uh-huh)And Ellen Weinberger – every guy in school wanted her. (But you got her? Guaranteed she was a goblin)I met her when I was a sophomore and she was a freshman. She had one of those incredible bodies – 5’3”, natural big breasts, thin little body, brunette, big eyes, and she just reeked of sex appeal. (And scotch)
She was one of the sexiest girls you’ve ever seen. (WE GET IT!) Every guy wanted her in school, but the problem was: she had a boyfriend. (And a dick)
Her boyfriend was this guy named Norm. Norm walked with a limp because he got into some car wreck, so we called him the Limping Boyfriend from Brooklyn (of course, being immature 19-year-olds, that was about the most clever thing we could come up with.) (Now being an immature 40ish, he still thinks it's interesting to talk about his fucking lame ass dates) Ellen and I had instant chemistry, but she had this boyfriend. (Yeah, you said that already. Can we get this guy an editor, please?)I used to go to her room, we used to catch a buzz, and we used to talk dirty to each other. (What are you? 11?)We would literally sit there and tell each other what we would do to each other if we were both single. (Are you fucking kidding me? David is going far and beyond anything here...and that's saying alot!) So I would leave her room, after getting her all hot, and she’d go sleep with her boyfriend (because every weekend she’d go to Brooklyn to see Norm.) I’d go out and have sex with some random little college babe that I’d tried to hook up with – sometimes I’d get lucky, sometimes I wouldn’t. (I'm embarrassed as I read this. Yet I go on.)
At the end of the weekend, I would always see Ellen again, and we’d catch a buzz, and I’d look directly into her eyes and tell her, flat out, that I’d thought about her while I was sleeping with someone else. (This never happened. NEVER. Once again, David is full...of..bull..shit)And I’d tell her about the things I’d want to do to her, and how great it would be if she’d just dump Norm.
This went on for two years. (So is this fucking story)We just talked dirty to each other for two years! (Paid by the word. I'm telling ya)It was unbelievable. It was the most freeing, fantastic experience. I couldn’t have her because she kept dating Norm, but the conversations got deeper, more erotic, and more sexual – I knew everything about her sexually. (Assbag.)
Then, halfway through my senior year, I went to Florida and came back. It was 1984. January 1984 – the start of my last semester of college. (This means David is pushing 50. 50!!)That was the year that old man coats were in style – if you remember those long woolen coats you could get at thrift stores. (They still have them, dickweed!)
I bought an old man coat, I had a little suntan, and I walked into Ellen’s apartment. It was on a Thursday night – we used to go out on Thursday nights, we’d catch a buzz and then go out and drink some more. (Sounds like two alcoholics jerking off)We used to just flirt and tease each other, and then I’d pick up another girl and she’d go to see Norm the next day. (Again with this?)
I remember picking her up, and doing our usual thing, flirting, teasing, talking dirty to each other, and then I dropped her off at her apartment. I asked her if she was going to see Norm that weekend and she said she was actually going to stay around here. I said, alright, cool, and told her we should get together. She said alright, and then she grabbed me, and she kissed me! (Pushing 50, folks. Still looking for some bullshit frat boy validation. Wow.)
Now this was like two years of dirty talk culminating in this fantastic kiss. I was kissing Ellen Weinberger, the girl that everybody at school wanted, and I finally had her! (Everybody in school wanted her? Is this junior high?)
Ellen Weinberger and I ended up going out for the next two years. (I'm exhausted.)
She taught me how to be free with my words. How to push the envelope – how to not care – because our situation was safe. I was busy turning her on for two years with dirty talk, and she was having sex with her boyfriend and thinking about the things that I’d said – and then she would tell me about it. (Yeah, you've mentioned this.)
That’s how I learned how to talk dirty – that’s how I learned how to push it. That’s how I learned what to say, what not to say, and how to say it. (Again. We covered this.)
I have to thank Ellen for allowing me to be free. (Got it.)Ever since then, I’ve always been able to say what’s on my mind sexually. (Yep. Been stated.) Always. Being sexually free is really what it’s about. When I talk dirty I’m not talking in a very graphic way, I’m talking very subliminally. (Sitting on a couch in a dorm room?)But that’s how it all started.
I really believe that when you’re growing up, it’s the experiences that you have with the first couple of women that really set the stage to what kind of man you’re going to become. (David must've been slapped around like a rag doll)And I had fantastic sexual experiences with my first few girlfriends. (Jerking off to JC Penny Catalogue is not sex, Dave!)
My high school girlfriend wouldn’t sleep with me, but we had foreplay all day long. (God, he's not done.)So when all my friends were trying to get laid – thinking about it all the time and then not getting laid – I was getting some great education in foreplay. I learned the importance of foreplay at the age of 17! (OK, he's officially the most full of shit man on the planet!)
And I learned the importance of dirty talk at the age of 19. (Huh?) I had to get really good at talking dirty to get Ellen to break up with Norm. It took me two years of dirty talk to get her to breakup. (This reads like a 5th grade essay. Remember folks, he gets paid to do this.)Two years of practice allows you to perfect it! Once I got her to breakup with Norm, I had the confidence to talk dirty to any woman out there. (I'm rubbing my eyes. Seriously.)
So that’s my story of how I learned to talk dirty. What’s yours? (I learned by telling jag off dirt bag hucksters to go fuck themselves)


Christo P. Ney said...


This bag of douche is almost 50!

And he's still talking like he's 21.

What a keeper.

The first time I read this, my mouth was agape...literally...the whole time.

Anonymous said...

Everyone on the planet needs to know about how this man's douchbaggery. I might make it my mission.

I, truly, think I would punch this guy in the throat if I met him.


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