Archive for the 'Gentlemanry' Category

The Mile High Club

June 1, 2012

I’m going to do something that I don’t do often on here.

I am going to swear an oath to you, the reader, that everything you are about to read is absolutely true.

I know I could get myself into trouble with this one, but I feel like this is my one opportunity to tell my story.

Within the last year, I had a chance to join the Mile High Club. And no, I’ve never been on an aeroplane with Lisa. That’s the biggest reason why I resisted the urge to join.

I was chosen to spend a few days in Orlando at a journalism conference. It was a nice excuse to skip a few days of class, check out the sights (read as: ladies), sip a few White Russians in a hot tub, and hopefully learn something about journalism along the way.

The trip was amazing, but for time’s sake, I must spare most of the details.

The trip home was a bit bumpy. We were smashed into a tiny plane at a muggy Miami airport.

We were stationed right behind two mildly-attractive “cougars”, both of which were drunk and laughing the entire time. They turned around to hit on us, talking about how we were young and strong.

They kept giving us the sex eyes.

Both of us had girlfriends, so we just chuckled and shook it off.

The problem arose when I went to get up to let Jared out to the bathroom, and I accidentally touched the blond’s leg.

She took it as a sign, and I saw the sex bubble up in her eyes.

To make matters worse, the aisles were so cramped that my ass went into the face of the person to my diagonal front and my crotch went directly onto the shoulder of the horny MILF.

I pardoned myself. Naturally, she said it was no bother.

I’m just glad I didn’t have anything poking her in the side of the face.

Soon after, I had to make my way to the bathroom, and she noticed. Within a minute or so, I heard a gentle knock on the door.


Another gentle knock.

Sigh. “Occupied.”

Another minute, and I had drained and opened the door.

It was the lady from the seat in front of me.

“Oh, poo. I thought you’d let me in.”

“Uh… it’s a bit cramped in there. Sorry.”

She brushed my junk with her hand as I passed and entered the bathroom, hoping for me to follow. Instead, I returned to my seat and told Jared that I was really tired of them.

“Yeah, I thought one of them followed you back there.”

“She did. It didn’t do her any good.” If he was a nerd, I would have thrown in a Hal Jordan joke. You know, the will to resist her.

Of course, Hal doesn’t need a plane to join the Mile High Club.

Just willpower.



This is not included in the 500 word limit.

Thanks to Ashton Cutright (again) for creating for me an outlet to tell my plane MILF story.

I’m not sure who knew of that one before now. I swept it under the rug because there were better stories.

SIDENOTE: Could you imagine being Green Lantern and taking a woman into the sky to sex her? You could just make a bed in the air, green satin sheets, bright green CD player full of Barry White.

How awesome would that be?

Truly ghjr


Women’s Rights

April 30, 2012

So, I am going to attempt to do this without alienating all of my female readers, but only because all of my regular readers except one are female. At least, of the ones I know.

No, I’m not going to talk about going back to the kitchen, and I’m not going to use the word “sammich” at all.

Except for then.

But, there is a thing going around recently. Women like to say that chivalry is dead.

I was chivalrous once. I used to open doors and pull out chairs for women and all that good stuff. But one day, something day happened.

I opened a door for a lady, just like I always had. Every other time, I had been met with a “thank you,” or worse… Silence.

This time was definitely different, though. This time, the lady tore into me with a torrent of anger.

She said things like “How dare you?” and “You think I can’t open a door for myself?” She referenced the fact that she was independent and “didn’t need a man to do things for her.”

I quietly let go of the door and went on my way.

I haven’t opened a car door for a lady since. That lady ruined it for anyone who will every know me.

Ladies like her are ruining it for everyone everywhere.

Women like to say that chivalry is dead, but the fact is this: Women’s Rights killed it.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that women are not equal. I’m not saying that they shouldn’t be paid the same as men or be able to hold the same public offices as men.

But, I’m saying that you lose all of your chivalrous privileges if these things happen.

Tell you what, you can pick up the bill for dinner tonight. Better yet, let’s go Dutch from now. Why? Well, we make the same amount of money now, so you can afraid to pick up the tab for your own dinner.

Ow. That hurt. I can’t believe you punched me. How’s that? What’s wrong? You are mad because I punched you back? No, I don’t care if you are a girl. You wanted to be equal to men in all ways. If a man punched me in the nose, I’d punch him right back.

See what I am saying? You ladies like the idea of being “equal” to men, but once it comes down to it, you don’t want to be treated like men at all. You want to gain all the good stuff about being a guy while keeping all the good stuff about being a girl.

I don’t blame you. If I could get someone to take me shopping while still living with a period, I’d jump at the chance.

Of course, I’d be at the comic book store, but that’s not important.



This is not included in the 500 word limit.

Thanks to Ashton Cutright (A WOMAN!) for the challenge.

I did my best to get my point across. A lot of people don’t take this “equality” thing into consideration, especially women. They already unofficially run the world. You women don’t need to make a big point of it by literally trying to run the world too, ok?

Either way, I think I did well without being too sexist. Am I right, bitches?

Truly ghjr


March 23, 2012

Welcome. Have a seat, won’t you?

Oh. How silly of me. Of course you are already sitting.

Would you like a drink? I have a fine assortment of aged scotches, if you are interest. On the rocks, perhaps?

Three cubes?

Why don’t you retrieve your pipe from… well, wherever it is that you keep it when you travel. Left inside breast pocket? No, it’s not a good guess. It’s just the proper place to carry it.

No, no. I have some fine imported Peruvian tobacco leaves that I am willing to share. Here’s a cleaner and my tobacco bag.

Nonsense. Be generous with it. Take as much as you need, but don’t pack it too tightly. You know it will be the Devil to keep it lit if you pack it too tightly.

Are we all settled in now? Good. I have something to show you.

No, please. Stay seated. I’ll fetch it and bring it here for you.

Just a moment now.

I would love for you to try to on. Yes, it is real silk, hand crafted by the tiniest Asian fingers money can buy. From what I understand, the silk worms are from the area surrounding the Yangtze River. Each worm is bottle-fed unfiltered wildebeest milk and fed exactly 1.3 grams of genuine Dutch tulip petals each day.

The silk is gathered by teenage lepers who have been blinded with a rusty spoon, seeing as they are not worthy to look upon the fine silk before it is woven into the sheets of fabric.

Actually, there are many people jumping at the opportunity. You just don’t walk into a restaurant and get a job as the maitre d’ if you are leprous. It’s probably the most lucrative job a leper can have.

Well, go ahead. Put it on. See how it fits.

Oh, the lining? It’s real velour.

Let yourself go. Feel the velour on your skin.

No, I’m not sure where the lining comes from.

You caught me. I don’t know how velour is made. You brash devil.

Do you like it? Good. Smoke. Drink. Enjoy it for a while.

Yes, it does match mine. Perfectly. I bought two for myself long ago, but I’m not getting any younger, and I wanted to share this fine gift with someone before my time on this world is over.

No, no. I don’t have any health problems. Why would I? I smoke fine tobacco and drink aged scotch everyday. What bad could come of that?

I just want you to have this robe. No catch. My time on this world has been long. I have enjoyed all the finer things. I just want to pass that along to a young buck such as yourself.

You have many women to love and many drinks to drink. Be careful if you do either in that robe.

Stains don’t come out of silk.




This is not included in the 500 word limit.

Thanks to Sam Jones for this one.

I had a ton of fun with it. Honestly, I felt like Ron Burgundy most of the time I was writing.

Of course, in this house full of leather-bound books, it’s hard not to feel like him sometimes.


Truly ghjr