For a lot of couples across the globe Valentine’s day signifies a day to rekindle the snuffed out flame of romance that used to burn ever so proudly within their hearts. It is a day for lovers to set aside their petty differences and focus on reinforcing and making their respective relationships stronger and wiser.
Actually, that’s bullshit. The truth is, Valentine’s day is an annual event fueled primarily by thoughtless commercialism. It is a day when men throw around extravagant sums of money on flowers, chocolates and jewelry in hopes of getting mind-blowing beejers from patsies more popularly known as ‘girlfriends’.
Lonely, single people like myself on the other hand, spend the day in the sofa, eating potato chips of our tummies and crying while watching episodes of Queer Eye for the straight guy. `tis a very emotional time for the likes of me indeed.
For two years in a row now, I have spent my valentine’s days jerking off to romantic movies; all the while contemplating on the back of my head why a successful, good looking young lad such as myself has to spend this holiest of days by his lonesome.
This might sound like a cock and bull story but It hasn’t always been like this. In fact, three years and 60 pounds ago, I had a girlfriend. She was this busty Irish doll named…um…LaTonda. Yeah, that was her name. LaTonda and I were deeply inlove. We used to go out on ‘dates’ and we almost always had sex afterwards. Except of course when she’s on her ‘period’ (it’s this monthly thing when blood gushes out of a girl’s flower. Icky, I know)
Anyway, LaTonda became an astronaut and I never heard from her again. The point of that entire paragraph is that I am not an exactly an expert when it comes to the mechanisms of love, but I know enough. And I know everything there is to know about valentine’s day from reading tons of pornography and watching The O.C.
With that said, I’m going to give all you men out there tips to ensure you get ‘some’ this coming valentine’s day. And by ‘some’ I mean ‘sex.’
I have a confession to make. For months now, I have been cooing over Heather Armstrong’s baby girl Leta. Before you assholes jump into any conclusions, let me just say for the record that what I’m feeling for Leta is fondness in its most pristine form and not the warm and often masturbatory sense of affection I feel for little girls like Dakota Fanning and that Lucy girl from The Chronicles of Narnia.
Leta is just so adorable that when the time comes that I knock up one of the prostitutes I’m currently banging, I want the product of our unprotected, drunk lovin’ to be like her. Exactly like her. Then it occured to me that as with most guys my age, the vagina to me is still an object replete with unfathomable mysteries and puzzles; kinda like a jigsaw puzzle only more frustrating. And fuck, contrary to what I’ve written before, I am totally unprepared for the taxing job of being a father.
there are just too many risks involved in spawning another one of my kind into this world. What if in raising it, I fuck up along the way and he grows up to be the next Adolf Hitler, committing genocide just because of the fact that I wasn’t able to give him the toys he wanted when he was young? Or what if my kid happens to grow up to be an uber hot girl men such as myself perv on regularly? Or worse! What if my kid grows up to be a pussy who cries everytime I elbow him in the face (something I love to do to kids) or everytime a group of teenage gangsters bully him for lunch money in school? These are all unacceptable.
Bah. I need to stop thinking like a pessimistic emo kid; the point is I want a baby and I want it now! The wheels of this dream come off when I start to realize that there’s currently nobody in the picture who’d willingly provide me with an egg cell I could fertilize. This is where the internet comes into play. This shit isn’t called ‘The Information superhighway’ for nothing.
It is a common misconception that maintaining an organized workstation is vital to exuding productivity in the workplace. But the reality is that an organized desk is like saying “hey fucker, I’m idle! Why don’t you put in more work on my plate?” to your boss.
However, with a little rearranging, you can turn your workstation from a space that attracts work to one that fends it off.
In the boss’s perspective, nothing kills the urge to give an employee more work than the illusion of existing ones lined up. How do you do that, you ask? If you can shut your fanny mouth for one minute I’d tell you how.
In a world where corporations are slowly inching their way into the ‘Paperless Office’ setup, finding work-related papers you can adorn your corkboards and desks with can be quite a challenge.
One man’s trash is another’s treasure. If you really want to succeed, you wouldn’t mind rolling up your sleeves and getting your hands dirty. I’m talking about the waste basket. In many offices, the waste basket is a treasure trove brimming with discarded official documents you can use.
Pick up that crumpled provisional receipt or purchase order and post it on your corkboard; better yet, why don’t you pick up that old interoffice memo and write the words URGENT 500 copies on the upper right hand corner with double underlines.
Printouts. Printouts are perfect for decorating your desk with a nondescript pile of paper. Print out all the E-mails, sales reports and memoranda on your computer. What usually works for me is a report that has big graphs on it. This is particularly useful for when your boss passes by and sees you napping on your desk because then, you could get away with saying something to the effect of “I’m just taking a break. All this data’s giving me a headache.”
I fuck up this Q&A thing with Joey Alarilla of Inq7.net
Could you tell us something about yourself? When and why did you start blogging and who got you hooked?
I’m 23 years old and currently doing marketing work for an Internet firm. I have been single for more than a year now and have since been consistently turned down by random women I solicit sexual favors from in the street. Must be my halitosis. Or my excessive sweating. I don’t know. Again ladies, my e-mail address is mike.villar@gmail.com
I started blogging back in 1997 with manually edited HTML page. It was difficult considering back then, there weren’t any CMS (content management system) applications I could use, so I quit and turned to more productive activities such as getting drunk and spending nights in jail.
Now I’m back, more mature, much wiser, and much fatter. With regards to who got me hooked, nobody did; I basically just want to be rich and famous. I don’t know if blogging would allow me to achieve that though. Let’s hope so.
I frown on the idea of metablogging but you have to forgive me for this one. You see, The thinly veiled attempt to compensate for my glaring homosexuality called The Man Blog has been getting a lot of publicity lately thanks to its induction into two of the hottest international blog networks today.
Paul Scrivens, CEO of the 9rules network has this to say about the Man Blog:
Humor. It’s something we all think we have, but almost none of us possess it. Therefore when you can find a group of gifted writers to collaborate together on a site and it comes out to be of top-notch quality then you definitely have a good thing going for you. Think along the lines of girlspoke and Those Bastards and you are almost at the Man Blog. I say “almost” because these guys take things to a whole other level. The Humor Community is set to explode.
Additionally, The Man Blog worked out a deal with David Krug, Senior Content Developer for the Erati Media division of BlogMedia and arguably the snarkiest man on the blogosphere. The deal involves me washing his car for two months in exchange for adding the Man-blog into the network.
With that said, I want to drink a bottle of Haterade, fistfuck my throat and laugh as I watch the following people cringing in disgust bathing in a pool of my own vomit:
I just want you to know that I love you all (in a brotherly, non-prisonsex kind of way) and I appreciate all the work you’ve put into your retarded articles and making the Man Blog what it is now.
Thank you,
Mike ‘Fucking’ Villar
Heir to the Duke of Hillcrest
Rising Internet Star
Darlington Socks Model
Tonight’s Our Night Dearest One
Life is Beautiful You Also
Mike "Fucking" Villar
"a Manila-based blogger made famous by his Atrocities of Friendster series, a regular feature he publishes on his blog where he mercilessly criticizes and mocks pictures of ugly people he stumbles upon on popular social networking site, Friendster. Although a lot of people are offended by what he writes, long-time readers of his blog regard him as a brilliant satire writer."
-Taken from my WikiBios page
