Gutter Slut and the Stud, a la Beauty & The Beast

So its common knowledge, if you read my blog, that my friend Shine & I joined a website for the sole reason of dating the craziest, narliest guys off the site. So far, i've suceeded. I wanted to share a msg that I just got.



Let me start this off by saying that I’m not looking for my soul mate or the “one”, because that shit doesn’t exist.





The whole “pure truth” and “blinding realization” crap is a myth. It does not exist. Many people search for it and die trying. You will have a better chance at proving Oprah actually stays on a diet plan.

A little about myself…. I’m 27, good looking, in shape, and fun as hell to be around. But, I have a problem. I attract the most psychotic women on the planet. After many trial and error runs I have decided to stick with what I know. Why stray away from what I have already proven? Though, I have been put through the ringer, stepped on, chewed up, spit out, set on fire, and pissed on my ashes, thus damaging my soul and ability to care for someone eternally beyond repair. I have not totally given up hope.

Don’t get me wrong. I am a good person, but bad things happen to good people and I am ok with that. So, I decided that I will do someone a favor and give that lucky down and out gutter slut with bad credit an opportunity to trade up.



I believe that I was put on this planet to give someone a second chance at having a good guy in their life. I know that I will never be happy so I will suck it up and settle for someone going through a midlife crisis and has no direction in life.

Lets just say I’ve had a few rough go arounds with the female species, and maybe just maybe the psychotic spells were partially onset by my actions. So I feel that Karma has placed me on the sh*tend of it’s to-do list.
The person I am looking for must be a true basket case. A real nut job. You must be a few fries short of a happy meal and your carpet cannot run wall to wall, or this will obviously not work out. To get the chance at having a real stud in your life you must meet and are not limited to the following criteria.
You must be able to: Complain a lot, Scare off my friends, harass me at work, brick my car or bleach my clothes because u think I cheat on you, have violent outbursts and have no thought of the consequences, threaten my ex girlfriends, fart in public and blame it on someone else, beat yourself up and tell others that I did it, leave 15 voicemails in 15 minutes on my phone, cause a scene because you are unhappy with how your steak is cooked on the third try, put nair in conditioner bottle, pull a gun on someone, be unpredictable-not like a damn nun’s menstrual cycle, lack rational thought, use the words “the Fuck" in almost every sentence. Example- Where the fuck are you- or - get the fuck off me, you know what the fuck I mean?

First, I want to make this clear. Psychotic tendencies must be out in the open up front. I DO NOT want any surprises three months down the road while we are shopping at the market and you punch me in the face for making a sex comment about a stuffed turkey. Face punching must be taken advantage of from the get go. If you choose to face punch. You also must have a job of some sort. Even if you scrape dollar bills off the floor after the “boots with the fur” song or are lead shopping cart technician at wal-mart.

I don’t care as long as you have something. I’m no sugar daddy.

Next, If you have fucked up kids that get horrible grades and refuse to take their a.d.d. meds that’s cool. I’m no one to judge. I would make a terrible parent, so you just keep on keeping on with the destruction of you kid’s life. Lets have the sex talk. You are going to be in control of when and where it goes down. I’m all for being spontaneous and naughty in public, or even getting it on at your grandmother’s house in the closet during thanksgiving dinner. As far as kinky stuff goes, you’re the crazy one, so I will leave that up to you, but If we are getting it on and I’m banging you an inch from your life and you want me to give you a choker, NOOOO WAY. I do not need an accident to happen and catch a case having a dead hooker on my hands. They are hard to get rid of.

Lastly. Since I’m willingly giving up any chance of happiness and satisfaction in life you must be hot. A pleasant face and a nice body will suffice. You must also carry emotional baggage with your superficial beauty. In that, I mean you must need constant reassuring compliments about your hair/make up/ass/titts/face/shoes and clothes. Also, you must compare yourself to every little hussy that walks by and catches a glimpse by me. You know all the hot ones are crazy anyway.

YES! A guy that calls me a gutter slut, in the first MeSsaGe.. gold.

Second, is he, or is he NOT giving me an open invitation to act batshit crazy? Hmm. There is potential here, but.. ive made the decision to politely (yeah, right) decline this fucking douche canoe.

And finally.. he is NOT good looking. Oh, you're offering me a chance to "tradeup"? I need a real "stud" in my life? If you have to call yourself a STUD, no. No, man!

You are not a fucking stud. Who fucking says that anyway? A stud is an animal used for breeding, a Jackie Collins novel, a poker game, an earring in some cases, but you my friend, YOU.. are most definitely, in NO sense of the word a stud.

In your picture, you're holding a bud light (redneck). Not only that, but its like, the 2004 style bottle. And you have a beanie on, with your lucious locks hanging out. Long hair is for chicks, man.

You know what I wanted to do when I saw your gross face? Punch my computer screen, and THEN take a shit on it.
Alright. I'm off to do guttery, slutty things.