Monday, December 29, 2008

Fake Assholes Finish Last

How long has it been since some1 has done somethin 4 your imagination?

I'm a selfish prick. A hot, well known, pampered intellectual with a big dick and a marathon tongue. I'm young enough to do it often and old enough to do it right. I don't have time for petty drama or emotional hysterics. I do what I want, when I want.

Only contact me if you have the following qualities...

-a good imagination
-intuition
-intelligence
-good instincts

I'm picky and deserve to be. There is nothing wrong with having standards. I place very little emphasis on what people think of me. I don't care. I am exactly who I want to be. I will tell you exactly what I want to tell you, when I want to say it. Contact me and tell me how you feel about rollercoasters. Paul


Ladies and gentlemen, I am a man of meager means.

Born with the ass of an elderly pilgrim woman, my buttocks continue to resonate with all the juicy sparkle and playful charisma of a post-bulimic beach clam. I have been told I possess all the vibrant personality of dried wall spackle, and my penis resembles something a weight-conscious hummingbird might classify as a whimsical yet breezy snack item.

Of mice and men, I am the mouse, frequently squeaking for a tiny scrap of female cheese. I am the guy you see getting donkey-punched by a Girl Scout in broad daylight, crying out for my mother and curling into the fetal position around my Miley Cyrus lunchpail. I am the man that leaks sixteen different fluids at the hiss of a white kitten adorned with daisies, and a man who hasn't seen pussy in so long I'd probably try to catch it with a folded newspaper and release it into the forest.

So who am I to judge personal ads you ask? I may resemble a loose amalgamation of wind-blown maypole ribbons when I skip down the street like a retarded flamingo on ecstasy, but I am indeed a wise man. A man wise enough to know I shouldn't ever try to pretend I'm someone I'm not, because I'd rather continue to be wise than begin to look stupid.

Which brings us to Paul's personal ad. How'd you feel about it after you first read it? Does it look familiar? It's supposed to hit women in the face like a frying pan, but in a good way. You've seen it before here on WWHM, and I've previously sourced it to this guy (on the left column). These fucking ads are all over the internet, all starting with a variation of "I'm a selfish prick."

It was specifically designed by world-reknowned “pick-up” artists to arouse a woman's sub-conscious and innate attraction towards a dominant man, and it's supposed to be the most successful online personal ad available. Let's break it down by sections and see how it works in theory:

How long has it been since someone has done something for your imagination?
This is designed to open your mind for the ad you're about to read.

I'm a selfish prick. A hot, well known, pampered intellectual with a big dick and a marathon tongue. I'm young enough to do it often, and old enough to do it right.
Shows dominance, leadership and sexual vitality / prowess.

I don't have time for petty drama or emotional hysterics. I do what I want, when I want.
Dominance.

Only contact me if you have the following qualities: (dominance)

A good imagination, intuition, intelligence and good instincts.
This is the same verbal trickery psychics use. Everyone thinks “Oh, that describes me!”, but it actually applies to anyone that reads it. It excludes no one. Except people smart enough to realize they're being had.

I'm picky and deserve to be. There is nothing wrong with having standards. I place very little emphasis on what people think of me. I don't care. I am exactly who I want to be. I will tell you exactly what I want to tell you, when I want to say it.
Dominance and leadership.

Contact me and tell me how you feel about rollercoasters.
In order to write about rollercoasters, you need to think about riding a rollercoaster. When you think about riding a rollercoaster, you tend to get an adrenaline rush and a feeling of exhilaration. Since you are writing to him, you will sub-consciously associate and apply those feelings to him. So in theory, you will see him as an exciting, exhilarating person. In theory.

Great job Paul! So let's rehash:

You're an unimaginative prick. You're neither hot, intellectual, nor well-known, but perhaps you might wear Pampers. Your cock resembles an apple stem, and your “marathon tongue” couldn't wheeze it's way across a fucking Topeka airport gate. But like a marathon, it's probably runny.

You “don't care what people think of you”, yet you're too much of a coward to admit who you really are, and you're “exactly who you want to be,” which apparently is someone else other than yourself. Next time women need a morning-after pill, I'm going to send them your personal ad. You make female ovaries seal up like a submarine hatch.

Now get over here and install my garage door opener. You're two hours late, you pampered intellectual.

WWHM readers, if you come across any more of these cheesy ads, respond to them stating you know it's a "form personal" and then send me the ad and the response.

Enjoy this entry while it's posted, because I'm aware that the author (to whom I applied the fake name "Paul") knows about WWHM and will probably find his ad. If he instructs me to take it down I have to per WWHM rules. But I will post his email requesting I take it down.

Happy New Years WWHM'ers and welcome back!

(Ed note: Though I despise the now-patheticly overdone "pick-up artist" community and their increasingly worn-out, market-saturated methodologies, I strongly recommend Neil Strauss' book "The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pickup Artists." Yes, he's a leader of the PUA community, but he's also an incredible writer, and the book provides a fascinating look at how men try to beat women at their own game. And how they succeed without you ever knowing what hit you. You'll learn something about yourself, male or female.)

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Reader Mailbag!

Reader SC recently wrote to WWHM to share something odd that occurred while trying her hand at the online dating world.

You see, SC is an exceptionally brilliant and driven woman. So much so that she has earned her PhD, and, like most people would, she briefly mentioned in her personal ad that she had earned a PhD.

Who wouldn't? Hell, if I had passed the third grade or had the ability to change my own pants, I'd probably include that in my own personal ad. Anyway, SC didn't require respondents to have their own PhD, didn't mention what line of work they should be in, she simply mentioned it in passing.

Now surely most men would be secure enough with themselves to view SC's accomplishment with high regard, wouldn't they? Let's look at the response she received from a gentleman:

You should not state that you have a PhD on your profile. This could intimidate men. And if you choose to keep it on your profile, you may otherwise attract pretentious, egomaniacs who can quote you every line from Shakespeare.

Admitting that you have a PhD is not wise when searching for love. In fact, you shouldn't even mention it unless they ask. Such admission can steer good men away from you; believing that they may never be able to relate to you intellectually. When searching for love, one needs to be open minded. Be completely receptive.


Let's look at that last line again, shall we? Just for shits and fucking giggles.

When searching for love, one needs to be open minded. Be completely receptive.

I guess we don't need to ask him if he has a PhD, do we? Unless of course he has a PhD in the formulation of contradictory statements. Now, not to let a snivelling little insecure pansy-boy get a free slap at her, SC wrote back an appropriate response:

I don't want to date someone who barely made it out of high school, and I definitely wouldn't want someone in my life who didn't support or encourage me in my career.

Also, something for you to consider, you should probably not tell women what to do with their profiles. This pisses women off. Women do not like men who tell them what to do. The idea that a woman has to lie about who she is to attract a man is incredibly insulting, and the only kind of woman who would go for that would be a doormat, and I am not that kind of woman.


Touche! Next serve? Back to the idiot:

I though emotional love was primary to you--second to intellectual love. I'm sorry. I wasn't telling you what to do with your profile. (Ed note: Um, yeah that's exactly you did.) I simply gave my suggestion. I thought this was something you would understand since you're a professor; with a PhD that is. After all, a PhD means, Doctor of Philosophy.

If my constructive criticism comes off as "insulting" or "pisses you off", then I fear you may have to sit down a bit and find out why you've acquired this degree. Is your PhD degree a display or do you really know its meanings and purposes? Is it something you went to school for because you believe it would impress people or do you truly wish to put it into practice?

The number of academic degrees one possesses is irrelevant when it comes to finding a mate. You're a young professor so keep your mind open. You may become wise. I can tell by your response that your mind is not fully opened as need to be as a professor. It will happen.

Wow, he serves a heaping of condescension with his small, atrophied penis. Final serve back to SC:

You have no idea what you're talking about.

Well said SC, well said.

Any other off-site dating exchanges you'd like to share, feel free to send them in to WWHM for public mockery! And thanks SC!

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Radiogasm

I Know How To Make You Cum. Even If You Haven't Before.

And I know how to do it too. I got some pointers listening to some woman on a talk radio show. Listeners called in. They asked questions and she gave good advice. I listened and took good notes. Now I know how to make women squirt. I can get you there even if you've never been able to experience your "Big-O" in the past. I'm available to host or travel. David XXX-XXX-XXXX

In his 1967 groundbreaking scientific thesis The Naked Ape, evolutionary biologist Desmond Morris theorized that the relative difficulty women have achieving orgasm is based upon modern Darwinian constructs, in that the “orgasm reward” is granted more frequently to females who select and tightly bond with males who exhibit qualities such as patience, understanding, imagination and intelligence. In other words, guys who give enough of a rat's ass about her to learn exactly how to make her head pop off like a fucking steam kettle.

Then we have guys like David who waste their time absorbing the empty ministrations of radio snake oil salesmen, who guarantee universal orgasms the same way they guarantee miracle-cure hair tonics and complicated stain removers. “Buy it and you'll see!” they promise, carefully placing one foot out the door in the general direction of an idling getaway vehicle.

“I got some good pointers listening to some woman on a radio talk show,” David states, as if he had been seeking advice on milling his own flour or barbequeing a free-range turkey, “and now I know how to make a woman squirt!” If it were only that easy David. I know women that have slept with over 100 men and never once reached climax, but have earth-shattering orgasms every time they ride a rusty bicycle down a brick sidewalk. But what does David say when he can't make you cum? "Oh, I guess your vagina must be broken."

Where a penis is simple math, the vagina is advanced theoretical calculus. If a woman boasted to her friends that she finally figured out a way to make her boyfriend cum, they'd look at her like she'd spent the previous three hours drinking concentrated house paint. Because while making a man cum is easier than mastering an introductory toast recipe, making a woman cum can involve a number of variables, each of which you need to master to get her off according to her own sexual needs.

So men, stop making your fucking worthless blanket statements about your ability to get women off like you're some kind of seasoned conductor for the Universal Vaginal Orchestra. Your forecasts fall flatter than fucking blizzard warnings in Honolulu, and you only perpetuate the human need for the yawning mechanism. Women know two things: If you say you're hung like a horse, that means your cock resembles the soggy tongue of a teenage bay clam. And if you promise her an orgasm, she knows she needs to start stretching out her wrists for a long night of finger exercises.

If a woman orders a pizza, she wants the delivery boy to show up with a pizza. You're like a delivery boy that shows up with nothing but good-natured conversation and excuses for why you don't have a pizza.

Monday, December 8, 2008

American Gigolo II

BARELY LEGAL 18 YEAR OLD(INCALL/OUTCALL)

TIRED OF OLD MEN NOT PLEASING YOU ENOUGH? WANT A YOUNG, BARELY LEGAL 18 YR OLD TO SHOW YOU A GREAT TIME? THEN THIS IS THE PLACE TO BE ;) ITS A LITTLE UNDER 8 INCHES LONG, VERY PLEASURABLE ;)I WILL DO ANYTHING YOUR MIND DESIRES, ONLY 75 HH, 100 PER HR, DIRT CHEAPPP! I DO INCALLS AT MY PLACE, FROM 6 AM TO 230 PM MONDAY THRU FRIDAY, I CAN DO OUTCALLS AT MOSTLY ANYTIME BUT YOU HAVE TO PICK ME UP EMAIL TIM AT xxxxxxx @ xxxxx.xxx

Women's fantasies have always perplexed me.

My ex-girlfriend recently introduced me to her favorite porn site titled “Erotic Stories for Women.” A typical male, I immediately scanned the titles for the nastiest sounding material, hoping to find something like “An Insatiable Throat” or “Whore Picnic at Anal Mountain” to tickle my male fancy. And perhaps my taint.

But no, this was women's porn, and most titles offered the same levels of depravity one might find at a suburban Memphis cat show. “A Midshipman's Summer” or “The Covenant of Nicole” promised little in the way of cum-drenched shenanigans, and “The Gentle Pillow” spent the first three pages detailing the playful gyrations of a forest logger's buttocks as he contemplated sparing a nest of abandoned eaglets. If this was dirty porn, the editor was a maid.

So when eighteen year-old Tim recently placed a personal ad offering his fantasy services to women for $100 an hour, I was admittedly a little perplexed. Air, water, and hard 18 year-old dicks are the most plentiful resources on our planet, and even our ever-resourceful gas stations have yet to figure out a way to charge a convenience fee for steely hard teenage cock.

I tapped a recent Askmen.com / iVillage.com survey of the top 3 women's fantasies to find out if maybe Chris was on to something. Women listed the following as their Top 3 fantasies:

#3 Abducted by a stranger for a night of hot, passionate, anonymous sex.

Tim's physique suggests he'd have a hard time abducting a de-clawed housecat from a freshly waxed marble floor. Slight of build and tattoo-free, Tim hardly resembles the hard-scrabble ex-cons many women favor for this fantasy. And most women conceded that being abducted by a greeting card store cashier on a 3-speed Schwinn bicycle and riding in the delivery basket to his parents house was just a wee bit of a stretch.

#2 Owning a man as a sex slave

It's hard to enslave a man who ejaculates when you take off your bra. And an 18 year-old man couldn't find his way around a vagina with GoogleMaps and a plastic Dallas Cowboys compass extracted from a box of Lucky Charms, so it's often difficult to instruct a man who has no idea what he's doing. Ask him to warm up your vulva, and he runs out to the garage to start your car. Tell him to moisten the hood, and he spits on his Michigan State sweatshirt.

#1 Mrs. Robinson / Shy, young virgin fantasy

Jackpot. All you insatiable, horny cougars just want an innocent young man to wear an undercooked bacon suit to your little wolverine party. To sip the nectar of youth from the shy, whimpering prisoner of his own innocence. You women disgust me, you're like .......... men with tits.

OK, I see your point, Tim. But charging $100 for your sexual services seems a little ridiculous when all a woman has to do is open her door and throw a rock to find an 18 year-old willing to fuck the eggs out of her. Do cocks grow on trees? They may as well.

A woman can hire a comedian in your area for $100, and you provide twice the laughs. Do the math.

For a list of the Top 10 female fantasies, click here. I read up on you guys for this, and your fantasies are dirty and extraordinarily whorish. I commend you with all my heart. But you should all go wash your hands right now and memorize Bible verses.

Sunday, December 7, 2008

Fear!

how do i turn a woman on?
hey im 23 years old. i lost my virginity a couple year ago but i paid for it so i don't know how well i can get a woman turned on now because i don't have much experience. im obsesive compulsive so id rather just do the sex part because i dont know fourplay and im not very big but just a little under average. so i am scared sometime hard to perform. im not very experienced but I know part a goes into part b but I know woman like fourplay so what do I do? brett

Over the course of my many years genitally tangling with the female species, I've learned there are two things women never want men to bring into the bedroom; sexual insecurities or Scottish bagpipes.

Brett has sexual insecurities in spades, and he carries them around in a suitcase shaped like an eternally flaccid penis. The only way for truly inexperienced men like Brett to overcome these primary fears is to stop treating a vagina like it's just something you read about in a museum flier. Rather, a vagina is something you must pursue and embrace with open arms and open mouth. When a woman takes off her pants, she's offering you something special, not releasing an angry raccoon.

"But why fear our pussies?" women might ask, laughing uncontrollably as they hold their vaginas high above our outstretched hands, causing us to jump repeatedly until our bones break and we crumple to the ground in a sobbing, heaving mass of sperm cells with unrealized goals and dreams.

Men fear pussies because they control us. Our entire existence is solely dedicated to acquiring as much of them as possible. If we were squirrels, tree stumps would splinter violently at the sheer volume of stored vagina. Every thought we make, every action and reaction we choose to partake in, and every dollar we spend can be traced back to our desire to get into your pants. News flash: I didn't spend 5 months writing WWHM for the firm handshakes.

Most men tackle fallopaphobia at an early age; her name is always Susie, her dad is always unemployed, and there is always malnourished livestock feeding on Meisterbrau cans in her backyard. This oft-inbred strumpet invites us to a secluded area, lifts her skirt, and tells us to pet her like we might comfort an odd-looking goat at the touch-me zoo. Once we're fascinated with the vagina, all we want to do is roll around in the goddamn things like fucking catnip. Fear quashed. And don't name your daughter Susie.

But some guys like Brett don't get these opportunities, and we end up with sexually stunted men who describe sex as inserting "part A into part b, " as if IKEA sold cut-rate vaginas at your local outlet mall. Obsessive compulsive, he cannot maintain an erection during intercourse because every five minutes a little voice tells him the oven is on. And socially stunted, he writes personal ads detailing his dalliances with prostitutes whilst simultaneously asking for someone to provide him a free sample of something he usually pays for.

Because he has fear.

Fear!

WWHM Presents: The Most Unintentionally Hilarious Commercial In TV History

This is an actual commercial for an actual product produced back in the 80's.

Turn the sound down and enjoy the wonderful reactions of the kids as they ooze each other.

Hmmmm, those facial expressions look eerily familiar.


Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Metaphorically Speaking

Whose dick is this?!!?!? ; } Oh its my D-I-C-K.

I'm on the right blowing the bubble. My thick cucumber is dripping with bumpy anticipation for your response. I can pump my man-juice multiple times in a variety of your holes simultaneously. If you are going to e-mail me make sure to send a picture. Mark easyxxxx @ xxxxx.com (XXX-XXX-XXXX)

One of the most painful and ineffective schticks men employ in personal ads is the poorly resourced genital metaphor. A sales pitch gone horribly awry, men think disguising the penis under the auspices of some randomly generated cylindrical object may somehow automatically increase it's lackluster appeal. Penis? No thanks. Trouser snake? Color me horny! You'd think women of the world ran around masturbating with soup cans, skin flutes and one-eyed unicorns.

Genital metaphors falter because women process text visually. Today's idiot Mark tenderly describes his genitals as “a thick, bumpy and dripping cucumber that can pump man-juice multiple times.” While Mark utilizes these metaphors to portray himself as a horny, well-endowed and fertile male, women tend to visualize a piece of rotting squash getting run over by a bus, or perhaps a gaggle of crows quarreling over a greasy hotdog under a van. Not exactly a literary juicer for the ladies Mark. You'd find more lubrication jerking-off with a handful of corn chips.

For men to truly understand the tragedy of using genital metaphors in a personal ad, they need to ask themselves how they'd respond to the following female ad utilizing the same strategy:

35 year-old beautiful and professional woman seeks tall, educated male for sailing adventures, dining in the park, and concerts in the fall. I enjoy coffee, classical music, and roasting the cocks penetrating the elastic snaphole of my sweaty breadbox.

Metaphorically or not, asking a strange woman to get excited about your penis in a personal ad is like asking a woman to get excited about an old turkey neck stuffed with acorns. A mutant and desperate gland appearing to forever yearn to sip from some unknown pool of water beneath it, women generally abhor the sight and thought of a penis unless they're specifically ready to take one on. It's no coincidence that vibrators and sparkly blue dildos sell like hotcakes, while giant rubber penises collect dust in the porn store bargain bin like a forgotten cart of shark bait.

Mark, if your cucumber keeps dripping in anticipation of a response, I suggest you take your ass down to Wal-Mart and buy yourself a spot mop.

You have a long wait.

We've done this for vaginas (God I hate that word), but any other names or metaphors you ladies use for your husbands or boyfriends dicks you can put in the comments. And if anyone puts "thingy", you're banished from WWHM forever.

This list oughtta be fucking cringeworthy for guys.

Sunday, November 30, 2008

WWHM Presents: Christmas Gift Ideas

(Attn. WWHM readers: This is entirely real. I wish I could tell you otherwise.)

Natural Harvest: A Collection of Semen-Based Recipes by Paul Photenhauer

If you thought finding a fly in your soup was bad, imagine a waiter unzipping his fly just above your soup to complete the dish.

“Excuse me miss,” the waiter might inquire, “but it really might help me if you briefly address me as your “dirty whore of a waiter."

Paul Photenhauer offers us his unique perspective on dietary protein enrichment in his new book Natural Harvest: A Collection of Semen-Based Recipes. “Like fine wines and cheeses," he says, "the taste of semen is complex and dynamic.” Perhaps one might describe semen this way when surrounded by fine linens and a string quartet, but most women are more familiar with the type of semen ingested in the back seat of a '84 Jetta. Bleachy and acidic, it tastes more like something they might use to buff an aluminum kettle.

Mr. Photenhauer argues that semen is simply an acquired taste. "Some tend to dismiss semen as food and describe it as bitter or salty. This is similar to a person who tastes wine for the first time and says it tastes sour." Oh whatever, you big uppity cum snob. Last time I checked, women dismissed semen as a food source because it shot piping hot out of a penis and smelled like something you'd find on your shoe after a 7 hour aquarium tour. A topping for flan? It's supposed to evolve into an infant. Do you sprinkle babies on your lasagne?

Most recipes call for fresh semen, but some recipes such as the Creamy Cum Crepes require copious amounts of ejaculate to attain that finely nuanced jizz flavor we all appreciate from childhood. Since the taste quickly deteriorates, Mr. Photenhauer suggests freezing several days worth of semen in the refrigerator. WWHM concurs, but suggests you store them opposite the ice cubes. There's nothing worse than catching your grandmother sipping a Crown on the rocks only to proclaim "This tastes like my goddamn honeymoon."

Natural Harvest contains 60 full pages of semen recipes, most of which are stuck together like the pages of a 1984 Penthouse at an all-boys summer church camp. The straight edition comes with a centerfold of Rachel Ray nude, and the gay edition comes with a centerfold featuring a beautiful sectional couch surrounded by several lovely New Hampshire antiques. And Rachel Ray nude.

While the website boasts the book measures 9" by 7", it arrived measuring only 5" by 3". The postman apologized and said "it was really, really cold outside."

If you'd like to see the actual book and read some hilarious commentary, please visit here.

If you'd like to peruse the first 20 pages, including recipes and a lovely photograph of spermed oysters, please click here.

Please link to the National Harvest Cookbook through WWHM to help spread the word, and we'll be back tomorrow to present you with more pathetic WWHM personal ads!

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Brilliant Idiocy

I am looking for a woman for me

OK, first off
• No baggage!!,-- that includes any kids, ex-boyfriends, or clingy, jealous girlfriends
• No history of substance abuse, drugs and alcohol -- Addicts and "recovering addicts" need not reply
• Vegans -- may God bless you, but I am not interested in dating picky eaters
• To those who self-identify as "Christian", I can read the Old Testament in the original Aramaic and the New Testament in the original Koine Greek. I myself am Manichean and a member of a Gnostic group.

Here is a list of the characteristics I am searching for in a woman
• must know one European language other than English, Spanish, and Portuguese
• minimum educational level is a Masters degree or, at least, currently working towards earning a MA, MPhil, PhD, or DPhil
• Maybeck or Wright?
• I only dance to World Beat music e.g. Persian techno, House music from Turkey, sufi ragas from Afghanistan, latest pop from Cameroon.
• There is a difference between Jackie Collins and Wilkie Collins. If you do not know who the latter is, then find another personal ad.
-Do you know the difference between Keynesianism and Friedman's model?
• Alexander Hamilton or Thomas Jefferson?
• Concerning sex: read Reich's The Function of the Orgasm

work/career
I am working towards a PhD.

Thank you for reading. Have a pleasant day. Philipe


Ladies and gentleman, meet Philipe, the number one reason people scatter at social gatherings. It's like watching a wasp invade a picnic, only he threatens you with the painful sting of excruciating conversation.

Know-it-all Philipe (pronounced insufferable-bore) has placed a personal ad specifically seeking a non-vegan Manichean French-speaking Wilkie Collins fanatic with a PhD in Afghani history. In addition, your vagina must smell like fresh Algonquian tree sap.

While many men feel women adopt impossible-to-meet standards for their dating candidates, Philipe has effectively trumped women by listing a set of ridiculous standards that are not only stringent, but have absolutley nothing to do with a relationship whatsoever. It's like selecting a car based on the mating habits of Brazilian tree sloths. What's the difference between Keynesianism and Friedman's model of economics? The difference is you're never getting a blowjob.

Women generally find wildly intelligent men very attractive, but when intelligence overshadows any sense of humility, you've officially crossed into the territory of the pompous, arrogant ass. Philipe crossed into that territory, and subsequently bored the inhabitants with World Music until they stabbed themselves. “There is a difference between Jackie Collins and Wilkie Collins. If you do not know who the latter is, then find another personal ad.” And he wonders why his penis smells like an unearthed mummy.

Philipe holds the weighty erotic appeal of an impotent meerkat with chronic back acne. His ad invokes Wilhelm Reich's The Function of the Orgasm to tantalize you with what forthcometh sexually. Let me describe the manual via Amazon: “An exploration of sexuality relating to the importance of human life and it's relevance in understanding the social problems of our time.” If you want to get yourself really juicy, you can read that and a bus schedule.

Translate that riveting manuscript into the bedroom, and you have all the sexual electricity of an undercooked ham. Him, the superior being, fucking you, the inferior dolt. He ejaculates, and then burns your People magazines.

One thing you certainly won't have to worry about with Philipe?

Clingy women.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

The Vagina Whisperer

Do you own a stubborn, shy, finicky or easily spooked vagina?

I am The Vagina Whisperer, a vagina virtuoso with over twenty years under my belt of coaxing deep, fulfilling orgasms out of perturbed, unfulfilled and inexperienced vaginas. A skilled artisan, I have soothed angst ridden vaginas, and coaxed into deep, florid orgasm some of the most determined and obstinate vaginas that ever graced the earth.

Bring me your weary, mishandled or neglected vagina. Permit me to nurse coddle and cajole it back into its original form and glory. Don't you miss the days when your vagina had repeated daily use? Remember when it was toned, and moist and ready to ride at a moment's notice? Vaginas are mankind's greatest treasure. Don't let yours go to waste! TomE

A “horse whisperer” utilizes various methods of modern equine psychology to train and rehabilitate disturbed horses. Tom "The Vagina Whisperer" meekly attempts to correlate this horse-healing ideology to women, not realizing that a vagina isn't going to dance around like a little circus monkey for a sugar cube. Believe me Tom, if it only took sugar to open a woman's legs I'd bathe myself in waffle syrup and dress in a nougat suit.

Horses and vaginas are completely different creatures Tom, so don't compare the two. One is an animal in and of itself; it has its own feelings, moods and desires. Although sometimes it relishes human interaction and affection and enjoys getting saddled up for a great ride, we must remember at heart it's just a wild animal. The other one lives in a barn.

Tom takes the worst possible approach to attract a woman; he treats your vagina as though it were some sort of troubled autonomous nation-state with a self-esteem problem. The vagina isn't the problem Tom; the problem is the endless line of impotent, inexperienced assclowns that think spending 10 minutes with a thesaurus and some nifty word trickery will get them a day pass into the Ovarian Institute. Pussy is an exclusive Hollywood nightclub Tom, and you're Bill Gates in a Thriller t-shirt and a Member's Only jacket standing outside the velvet ropes with a bag of glowsticks and a hula hoop wishing you knew what it felt like to be inside.

Your ridiculous personal ad instantly and completely negates your claim that you have nearly twenty years experience resurrecting neglected and weary vaginas, because in just two paragraphs you managed to bore 10,000 vaginas to death. You might think your ad is clever, but I haven't seen this many collective vaginas yawn since erectile dysfunction became hip.

WWHM readers frequently note the strong correlation between the illiteracy of a person posting a personal ad and the stupidity of the content of the ad. Tom completely destroys this theory in that not only is his personal ad the most literate ad we've ever posted on WWHM, but it simultaneously qualifies as one of the stupidest personal ads we've ever run. It's almost as if all the stupid in his head miraculously drained into his balls right before he put feather to parchment.

But as all women know, if balls were IQ points, then ......... well I think that joke just kind of finishes itself, doesn't it?

Near Miss

You almost missed out on the best man ever

All my life I have been dating beautiful women, meaningful relationships mind you. I know I am a great man, I know this, but obviously you don't, and that's a shame. There is not another man out there in his 20's that would treat you better, treat you with more respect, or satisfy you better. So, this is my final good bye. Good bye meaningless online advertisements. Goodbye women that have blown me off, when in all reality, yeah, I was giving you a chance. I would have been your last, first kiss. A kiss that holds so much passion that you cannot hold your emotions. A kiss so authentic, you will not understand, because you are used to so much less. A kiss so heart felt, that your feet will tingle. Too bad, it could have been life altering. Too bad

It's like watching a sad, desperate birthday clown threatening to leave a children's party because none of the kids like the bowl of steamed brussel sprouts he contributed.

Friday, November 21, 2008

Honesty in Personal Ads


How To Fuck Up a Wedding

Women love weddings- you're witnessing the ultimate expression of committed love, the heartfelt promises two people make for the future, and the limitless opportunites of growth and happiness the bride and groom can explore after exchanging vows.

Men love weddings too. Beer is free, you can bang the bridesmaids whose loins are quivering like a bunch of hairless cats in Fairbanks, and it's perfectly acceptable to pass out in a patch of church shrubs with a ham sandwich on your face and a gallon of ranch dressing in your tux shirt. Just another day in paradise.

When weddings go wrong though, 95% of the time it's the drunk guys fault.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

The Porn Mag Trade

39m do you like pornography?

I'm a guy that really likes to mastrbate to porn mags. I'm jerking off allthe time and am seeking a woman to masterbate with. Do women like to masterbate with porn mags as much as I do? Do you like porn? If you do we should have a jackathon. lol.No sex required but apreicated . Be dirty because I am.Please call Jason @ XXX-XXX-XXXX

Today's award-winning erotic wordsmith Jason wonders whether women utilize pornography during masturbation. The answer is yes, although recent studies have shown that, unlike Jason, women are significantly less likely to masturbate into the open end of a soiled gym sock when doing so.

Men are visual creatures, and our pornographic magazines generally reflect our visual appreciation of the culturally idealized female form. More specifically, they tend to reflect our visual appreciation of the form women might take had two horses been tied to their big toes and frightened in opposite directions. The photos of female genitals and breasts are often accentuated and exaggerated, and sometimes blown up to such a degree that men are unaware whether they are masturbating to a photo of a vagina or the gills of a shark.

Women rely much less on visual stimulation than men to become sexually aroused, which is a relief, as most flaccid penises resemble a tired senior citizen burdened with a heavy sack of cantaloupes.

Rather, women tend to become aroused by a multitude of stimuli simultaneously during masturbation. Very lucky researchers on the topic determined that sensory reactions to sight, sounds, touch, and smell can combine with intense erotic visualizations to propel a female into a frenzied masturbatory state that enables her to experience multiple mind-blowing orgasms. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go have a cigarette. And grab a female-masturbation-researcher job application.

To find women's pornography, one need look no further than the abundance of romantic literature and erotic books and websites available to American women. Where most men visualize a bunch of boring stories about silly shirtless men in capes that ride around the Scottish countryside on horses saying ridiculous things like "I must reunite with Katherine before she marries Marquarht," women see these stories as an opportunity to manifest fantasies that allow them to treat their vaginas like a misbehaving stepchild at a country picnic.

Unfortunately Jason, while research shows that erotic literature and the written word can have an extremely powerful psychological and aphrodisiacal effect on women, men have difficulty masturbating to erotic stories. Men tend to process words, women tend to visualize them.

Which I found out the hard way yesterday when I spent six hours as a straight man trying to masturbate to a brief passage describing the smell of a man's shoulder.

All You Single Ladies........

I hope you single ladies have fresh batteries at home.

You'll need them after this.

Best Oral Sex #3,345,717

Best oral in Las Vegas! -19
Hello ladiez of Las Vegas. Let me introduse myself my name is Kent from summerlin area of Las Vegas. Would you like a night of intense oral plesure? Becase thats what i'm here for just your oral pleasure.Not like most guyz I know where your clit is and will focus on it for hourz strait to totally get you off. I am young and full of cum, redy to lick your clit and gspot, clean only, i will keep you interested. no smelly ugly girls. Kent XXX-XXX-XXXX

WWHM would seriously like to know who's handing out all these oral awards we see in personal ads. "I'm the best in the Mid-Valley!" "Best in Manhattan!" and "Best oral ever!" More importantly, we want to know who is judging all these competitions. With that much stimulation, her pussy must look like a giant bee sting.

Today we meet Kent, a 19 year-old man so confident in his oral abilities that he promises to "keep you interested." Way to set a low bar for yourself, Kent. That's like paying $1000 to a call girl who promises to keep you "semi-hard."

Rustling leaves outside a window can keep a woman "interested" Kent, but to keep her interested in the bedroom you need to look for more subtle signs. If she moans lightly or shifts her hips, that's a good sign you've garnered her interest. Conversely, if she starts vacuuming the foyer while you're going down on her, you may want to sharpen your technique.

Kent plans to "totally get you off" by spending hours focusing directly on your clitoris. Which is kind of like offering a woman a complete home makeover, then just painting the chimney. Think of it like a mosquito bite- it feels really good if someone scratches on it or around it for a little bit, but if you scratch it directly on it for hours on end, someone's going to end up with a fucking 2 X 4 right in the throat.

Perhaps as a testament to the preparation he's putting in to your encounter, Kent has also included a crudely drawn diagram of a vagina inscribed with the words "lick here." I'm not saying it's a cheat sheet, but if he starts peeking at his palms while he goes down on you, feel free whack him in the head with a ruler. A picture may be worth 1,000 words Kent, but in your personal ad a picture is worth two: No thanks.

Words say a mouthful, and the words in your personal ad quiver as they say "Oh God, I have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing here." Believe me, there's a difference between performing cunnilingus on a woman and eating a bowl of Grape Nuts between her legs. And if you're going to "lick her G-spot", then I need to ask you to please keep at least three feet away from my ice cream cone.

Thanks to Kent however, WWHM plans to produce our own nationwide "Best Oral" competition next year to avoid further confusion in men's personal ads.

That's right folks, get ready for the 2009 Vulvies Awards.

Sponsored by John Deere lawnmowers. (OK, that was pushing it.)

Backfire

Mr.Right....Now -

I desire to find you now. I am about to give up soooo much just to meet you and take a chance on true love-not mediocre love that is way too common. I have shed tears every time I read a romantic greeting card because I do not have someone to tell those beautiful things to- i feel like crying. The next lady to connect with me will be the happiest lady on the planet - Tim

Women are genetically predisposed to seek out aggressive, unpredictable and dominant males. To attract females, men must exhibit a kill-or-be-killed mentality, show absolutely no fear in the face of incredible danger, and must prove they have an innate ability to protect you in the most harrowing of situations. Men that successfully project this Herculean image are regularly rewarded with countless 3am trips to your apartment because "you thought you saw a moth."

But sometimes we find guys like Tim, who instead presents himself as a blubbering, impotent pantywaist soaking the aisles of Rite-Aid with tears after reading a romantic Hallmark haiku. I'm not calling him a pussy, but if he cuts himself, I'm grabbing a maxi-pad in Aisle 6.

So if a man knew he had to project an image of confidence and strength to attract a woman, why would he post a personal ad that implies he posts muffin recipes on his refrigerator and shaves his pubic hair into a heart shape?

Because he's an idiot.

After years of women complaining about the "emotional unavailability of men,” Tim has neglected his bravado and chosen the sneaky back-door tactic of displaying his emotional vulnerability up front in hopes of attracting a woman, not realizing that when women say they desire emotional vulnerability in men they mean they want it in men they are already dating. So, essentially, he's putting the cart in front of the horse's ass.

What that means, Tim, is women don't want you to admit you're a whining, soft-cocked, bird-fearing sissy boy before they date you. So instead of coming off as a sensitive man in your personal ad, you come off as the type of guy who hides behind a blind Girl Scout in a wheelchair every time a dog barks.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Why I Love Australia

One of the great things about Australian and European cultures is their willingness to embrace a completely open dialect about all aspects of sex and human sexuality.

Our country collectively shit its pants several years ago when Janet Jackson's nipple popped out of her stage costume for one second during the Superbowl, and people literally lined up to sue her for emotional distress. Are you fucking kidding me?

Meanwhile, I was living on Bondi Beach in Sydney at the time, and there wasn't a bikini top in sight. How 13 year-old boys go to the beach in Australia without adding a right angle to their abdomens is beyond me.

But thanks to the many fundamentalist Christian conservatives who somehow get to dictate what the moral values of U.S. citizens should be, we would never be able to see great commercials like this on our televisions. What's wrong with it? Absolutely nothing. It's a great commercial.

But if the U.S. fundamentalist Christian conservatives saw this Australian ad on American television, can you imagine the uproar? They'd drop their abortion clinic bombing instructions right into the holy water they were planning to throw on gay people.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

WWHM Returns Next Week!


We'd like to welcome all our newcomers from Facebook, LiveJournal, Ravelry.com, the Sydney Morning Herald and the E! Channel. Please note WWHM is NSFW, and deals with a mature subject matter in an immature manner. If you can laugh at human sexuality, you've found a great resource.

If you can't, please visit this wonderfully insightful page about penguins. Not only are they cute, but they taste wonderful on toast.

And remember, always wash your hands after reading WWHM.

Have a great weekend people! - The Weasel.

Cougar Hunting

18 looking for hot cougar 40-50
18male looking for an older woman to fuck. Will please you until your whole body is tingling and you can't walk. I will fuck you like no other man can. Don't be scared! Email me and I can send you tons of picture any kind you want. You would have to have a place. Call Scott at XXX-XXX-XXXX.

Sending an 18 year-old boy to satiate the sexual appetite of a woman in her libidinous prime is like sending an aloof zookeeper into the polar bear exhibit at dinner time with half a sardine served in a decorative teacup. You're going to end up with a pissed off animal Scott, and you should be scared. Never write a horny woman checks that your penis can't cash.

Little boys like Scott don't realize women reach their sexual peak in their late 30's and early 40's. She no longer views her reproductive organs as a delicate and fertile flower; now it's a Battle Cage designed solely to deliver her mind-shaking orgasms. If you dare step into her war zone armed with "The Alphabet Technique" and a Planned Parenthood pamphlet tutorial of the G-spot you downloaded at the local community center, she's going to send you home in a body bag with a pee stain.

Conversely, 18 year-old men are also at their sexual peak. In a cruel act of nature which I'm sure God plans to someday post on YouTube, these boys need an OnStar service representative just to find the nearest erogenous zone. He thinks he's getting you off by going down on you; you wonder why it feels like he's gnawing on walnuts during oral sex. Combine the two and you've got a mature woman who knows exactly what she wants, and a young boy that doesn't have a clue how to give it to her.

Most young guns like Scott have been having sex for a couple years and figure they've got this whole "woman" thing figured out. Like most young men, he aggressively humps a 17 year-old girl like he's trying to smash a spider in her womb, and the girl has no clue she's experiencing bad sex. When and if she has an orgasm, she might whimper like she failed a calculus quiz, but he feels like he's done his job.

A mature woman on the other hand owns her sexuality. She knows how she wants to get fucked, where, when and how often. She doesn't want a whimpering orgasm, she wants to eat a bedpost. She wants you to fuck her perm straight.

Although you have the gift of unending stamina, I doubt an inexperienced teen's entry-level movie-theater mop closet moves will make her whole body tingle, and I'm pretty sure she'll be able to walk after you're done with her. In fact, she'll probably walk right to her dresser drawer to get her vibrator. And it's not for her.

Bend over, Scott. Welcome to the jungle.

Tutorial For Men: Why Women Give Out Fake Phone Numbers

I've received lots of requests to post this, and I actually posted it back in July, our first month to go live.

Here's the original post, along with the stupid rookie commentary I left back when WWHM wore diapers.




I'd call this guy a horse's ass, but I have more respect for the actual anus of a horse than I do for this guy. And the last thing I want is another horse anus upset with me. (Um....long story.)

Anyway, at least a horse's anus has an excuse for spouting shit as horrible as this. That's because the horse anus has one job and one job only: to release shit.

"I'm not a jazzercise instructor, I'm a horse anus, " the horse anus might say.

Good point, horse anus.

This guy on the other hand, has NO excuse for the shit he spouts.

Two words: Restraining. Order.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

WWHM Wednesday

Sorry WWHM'ers, I've been really busy so we only got one new post up today.

But to keep you hungry ladies off my back, I'm going to let you have sex with this handsome guy until my next post. Is he hot or what? I bet just looking at him makes you feel like you're sitting on a George Foreman grill.

Too bad he's hung like a sterilized tse-tse fly.

A couple pointers before you have sex him:

1. To properly remove self-tanner from your sheets, use three parts Shout It Out! and two parts Sherwin-Williams industrial grade barn paint.

2. Please note this guy is so pumped full of cow steroids he actually ejaculates tender strips of Kobe beef. Grab some A1 Sauce.

3. When he comes, he sounds like a little girl at a High School Musical screening. Stick a lipstick-absorbent sweatsock in his mouth.

4. He's balding, so he hasn't removed his stylish hat in 2 years. If you remove it, prepare to smell an open grave.

Have fun, and try to resist flossing your gums mid-coitus.

Congratulations to Old Cock for making the WWHM Hall Of Shame! Read it again right now if you haven't eaten in the past 12 hours (CAUTION NSFW!). And as the author of WWHM, I'm automatically granting Cock Talk immediate Hall of Shame status, simply because it's the most ridiculous ad I've ever encountered in 4 months at WWHM. Email your nominations to WWHM- I keep track!

Lastly ladies, do you have an important decision to make with your significant other in the near future? Tell him your stance, and then just show him your breasts. Why? Because it disables their ability to make a rational decision. And science now proves it.

Wow, I'm glad it took "science" to figure that one out. What's next? "Science proves guys want to fuck all the time."

Duh.

(Image courtesy of HCwDB)

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Mama's Boy

Hard to pass me up!

Hello ladies, a little bit about myself. I graduated from Duke University a couple years ago. I have a great job which pays incredibly, a Lexus, and an apartment which is filling out very nicely. I've been wanting to buy a house, but there is one thing missing, my thin, beautiful trophy wife on my arm. You should be athletic (I run five miles every day, rain or shine) and your fat ass will not be sitting on the couch. You should be intelligent enough to hold a conversation in polite company, but know your place, and when it is appropriate to speak. You should know how to cook, because I am tired of ordering in, and going out every night. My mom has already said that she'd be happy to show you how to cook some of my favorite meals. You can be college educated, however you won't be working anyhow, so I don't see how it matters. Unless of course you studied home-making. Be sure to send a full body photo of yourself, clothing optional. *wink* Steven

I'm sure we all remember that strange kid with the plastic helmet in second grade that used to spend half his day eating wasps and the other half sticking his tongue in the pencil sharpener. Tempered brilliance tends to manifest itself in a bizarre fashion with youngsters, so most of these kids actually end up as mildly successful adults just like Steven did.

Mothers excessively coddle these disturbed youths however, and as a result they tend to grow into adulthood with a bloated sense of entitlement, especially in regards to women. That's unfortunate, because Steven sincerely believes he's an irresistable catch for any woman, despite the fact that just up until last year he couldn't shit properly without wearing a blue cape that said "I'm Mommy's Favorite Sooper Pooper" in pink stitching. He continues, however, to make tractor noises when he wipes.

So as expected, Steven has done quite well for himself. He graduated from Duke University and found himself in a high-paying job. So high-paying in fact, that not only has he has been able to afford something called an apartment, but he also drives a Lexus. Wow, Steven, that's pretty impressive.

Until you consider the fact that the last time I saw a Lexus, I was stepping out of one and heading into .... wait for it ..... my apartment. I'm a man that writes a blog about penises and I have the same accoutrements as you, yet you don't see me ordering my girlfriend to make me a goddamn pot roast.

Anyway, Steven seeks a thin, beautiful, educated woman that can cook and knows when to keep her mouth shut. That sounds like a fine selection, Steven, because when she's aggressively cooking the pool boy's cock in her thin and beautiful uterus, she'll be educated enough to keep her mouth shut about it.

Maybe when your mother is sharing tips with your new girlfriend about how to raise bread properly, she can share with your mother some tips on how to raise children properly.

Now go buy her some new shoes, bitch. The pool boy is almost here.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

Welcome To A New Week at WWHM!

Welcome to a brand new week at WWHM World Headquarters, located in beautiful downtown Dubuque, Iowa right next to Wing C of Tom's Animal Rendering Plant!

Speaking of Tom's Animal Rendering Plant, that's how we lost our precious WWHM cat, pictured here on my obtuse thorax, who accidentally fell in the beluga whale chopper last fall.

While we did enjoy having the cat around the office, we also enjoyed him as a zesty and protein-rich sandwich spread. Thanks Tom!

Ladies and gentleman, WWHM is excited about the spread of WWHM to all corners of the globe. But as new viewers continue to stream in to WWHM every day to pore over the nauseating specimens of men we analyze, we like to remind our readers that WWHM is a disgusting, vile and immature website dedicated only to those who enjoy our particular brand of humor and our underlying message as a whole. If you like to live in a dreamy world of rainbows and ponies, we recommend you visit this website instead.

Are they gone yet?

Alright fuckers, let's do this! Welcome back regular readers, and welcome to the growing number of colleges, universities, employers and Facebook users making WWHM a daily distraction from their responsibilities. Ready to see some idiots trying to get into your pants?

Let's do the posts!!!!!!!

And remember ladies, your stories are better than mine, so feel free to put them in the comments!

Car Jackin'

Watch me get off?
I am a normel 50 age male who has a life long goal of woman watch me jerk off in my car in public. Stand by bus stop or parking lot and I will pull up to you and get off in my car. All you have to do is watch me stroke myself to cumpletion in my car no touching necesary. nice cock 9 inhes 5'7 200 clean cut and will be clothed. call Matt XXX XXX XXXX can pay up to $5 per time as insentive if you expose your pussy or hair

Mobile male masturbation dates back to the early 1800's, when one Bernard T. Huffingsworth was arrested on a red-faced horse outside a women's butter churning hovel for "coaxing forth God's seed fromst open knickers."

He was charged with one count of Dishonoring a Horse and two counts of Causing a Wench to be Aghast, and was sentenced to two days in jail. He was also ordered to feed his horse a Bible.

Matt aspires to achieve his "life long goal" of masturbating in front of a woman at a bus stop from his car. On the surface, WWHM readers may suspect this lowly goal qualifies Matt as a rather unmotivated individual, but let me assuage those concerns by assuring you he plans to clean the ejaculated sperm out of his belly hair with a Dairy Queen job application.

Sexual psychologists would suggest Matt suffers from a severe case of "exhibitionism," defined as "a perversion in which sexual gratification is obtained from the indecent exposure of one's genitals to a stranger."

I'd suggest those sexual psychologists stand at a bus stop for a couple days and see who's really suffering. Is it the poor woman on her way home from work, or is it the fat guy in a Toyota Spanker XE whose eyes are rolled back in his head as he groans like a shot moose and unloads another bleachy blast onto his windshield?

Interestingly, a recent poll of 12 friends of WWHM concluded that 100% of them had been the unwilling subjects of a serial masturbator at some point in their lives, so if you've been a victim, acknowledge it in the comments. Or even share the story, so we have something to talk about at Thanksgiving over pie.

A Night In Enid, Oklahoma

SEEKING: ONE PRETTY LADY FOR FANCY NIGHT ON THE TOWN AT APPLEBEES

I HAVE: ONE FIFTY DOLLAR GIFT CERTIFICATE TO APPLEBEES, AMERICA'S FAVOURITE EATERY

YOU HAVE: TITS AND A TWAT
JIM

If you're looking for someone to blame for the poor wording in Jim's personal ad, we may want to point an accusing finger towards Applebee's new ill-advised marketing slogan for the Enid area of Northern Oklahoma:

Applebee's: Moistening Enid's Twats Since 1972

Anyway, today we meet Cowboy Jim, a man brave enough to detonate a "twat" bomb in a personal ad, yet still expects to see a piece of what he's referencing after he takes you to Applebee's. And pays with a coupon.

Here's an equation they obviously don't teach in Enid, Oklahoma:

Twat + coupon= hand + lotion.

If you use a coupon to take 100% off her dinner tab on a first date, she's going to counter with a coupon guaranteeing you 100% off of any opportunity of seeing her naked.

I don't know how it works in Enid, Oklahoma, but in Los Angeles taking a woman to Applebee's on a first date might earn me a weak handshake and a fake phone number. Paying with a coupon automatically upgrades me to the "Knee In The Balls" plan, likely accompanied by a simmering pile of excrement on my doorstep.

Enid likely has fewer dining options, 95% of which involve eating off of a wagon wheel, but the dining etiquette remains the same, Jim. Take note: Paying with a coupon on a first date makes you cheap, and to women, cheap has nothing to do with money. Cheap has to do with selfish. Women don't concern themselves with how much you tip in order to determine how much money you make. They do it to see who you are as a person.

There is an absolute, direct correlation between your tip and how many orgasms she's going to experience over the course of your relationship. And that number tonight will be zero for you, and three for her, only after she goes home and fucks the guy that took her to TGI Fridays and paid the full tab and tipped 30%.

Oh, and guys, if you try and hide how much you're tipping when you pay a tab, don't bother. She knows why you're hiding it. You cheap fuck.

Put your cheap dates and anything else in the comments.

Friday, November 7, 2008

Bits N' Pieces

Hey guys, I'm off to parts unknown for a day or two for a quick shave.

A lot of of bloggers have been writing to ask how WWHM became popular. Believe me, it wasn't always this way guys. Four months ago I wrote this blog for 6-8 people, and they didn't even read it. But as I've told you all, it exploded once I posted a few comments on other blogs and it just somehow took off from there.

Feel free to use WWHM comments to promote yourself. In fact, post your direct links in the comments below to get started.

If you must have some losers today, here's a site from WWHM reader Jaime. Thanks Jaime!

http://www.mailorderhusbands.net/order/

I'll be back soon guys, and thank you for making WWHM a success. We've got kitten photos coming up next week, so you know what that means. ***YOU'VE BEEN WARNED***

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Cock Talk

Neglected penis looking for neglected vagina

Hi. I am a friendly but neglected penis looking for a friendly, beautiful but negelcted vagina. I dangle between the legs of a nice guy who has gotten into a rut of being too busy to take care of my needs. Do you lie between the legs of a nice gal who is like my guy, too busy to find you a penis for your pleasure? My guy's lips tell me he hasent even kissed a nice vagina in so long mr tongue is getting as restless as I am. I sure miss doing the slip and slide in and out of a nice moist vagina. My neighbors, the balls brothers tell me they are so ready to make a huge batch of their special, high protine, love potion for your gal's enjoyment. Caio baby. Greg

Good fucking lord, where do I even start with something this lame? This is like picking on The Real World cast.

Greg's been abusing his penis like an alpine ski pole for the last 20 years, and with this personal ad his dick just secured another fucking 20 years in solitary confinement.

I'm not saying your personal ad will turn women off Greg, but I know girls who would rather spend their last government food coupons on a cross-town bus trip to blow a semi-professional mime.

"Nice, moist vagina"? "Nice and moist" is how my grandmother would describe a piece of steamy senior-home poundcake. You know what you get when you tell a woman you want to feel her "nice, moist vagina"? You get a dry, closed vagina.

"Mr. Tongue","the Balls Brothers" and "love potion"? I feel like I just walked into a puppet show titled "How Not to Get Laid."

Congratulations Greg, you've successfully written the lamest personal ad I've ever seen on WWHM. Speaking in third person would be bad enough, but you don't even do that. You speak in penis person.

Hopefully your balls enjoy dangling, because they're going to be hanging idly like a basement windsock for the next 20 years.

What do they have to look forward to?

Your knees.


Identity Crisis

Is it possible that I'm Gay?

I love to Cross Dress. I don't know why...maybe DNA...maybe subliminal advertising....maybe too much cable TV. It just feels sexy to dress and feel like a woman. If you're a single woman, I could understand why you might be hestitant in playing with a strange man. Rest assured, I'm VERY submissive, and would be OK. Single guys I'm not so sure about, but maybe if you look OK. Seth

WWHM receives a lot of personal ads featuring rugged, burly men modeling the latest trends in dainty, girlish panties and lingerie. Every time I open my email, it looks like a Victoria's Secret outlet exploded at a fucking logging convention. But whether they're dancing in front of a mirror, lying across a mattress, or posing in a coy fashion on the couch, I can assure you even the sexiest lingerie in the world has a 100% fool-proof antidote: Balls.

Putting lingerie over a pair of balls is like putting a little pink tank top on a shark; you may be trying to sex yourself up a little, but we still know what's going on underneath. Yet the whimsical, carefree Seth attempts to further conceal his balls utilizing a technique called the "tuck-under." By pulling the penis back into the open, fragrant prairies of the taint and closing his legs tightly, a man can make it appear he has no genitals at all. The problem is keeping it back there; it's like trying to stuff a housecat in a travel cage.

Conservative straight Midwestern guys like Seth often worry that an appreciation for wearing women's clothing makes him "gay." That's like putting on a pair of moccasins and worrying people will think you're an American Indian. Wearing women's clothing doesn't make you gay, Seth. Going to parades makes you gay. You really need to educate yourself.

We don't know if you're gay, Seth, and we don't know why you cross-dress. If you think corporations spend billions of dollars on subliminal advertising to sell you hamburgers, I could maybe see your point. But if you think corporations spend billions of dollars on subliminal advertising just because they want you to slip into a slinky pair of purple fishnets, then you're not gay, you're crazy.

Plus, I've watched 20 straight hours of Entourage and I didn't find myself wearing a pair of edible crotchless panties, so I don't really think you can blame cable TV either.

You wanna know why I think you like wearing women's clothing? Because you like wearing women's clothing.

(Remember guys, WWHM is going in a new direction. Cross-dressing is NOT a reason for women to hate men. We're going to make fun of all kinds of sexual quirks on WWHM from now on, because all human sexuality is hilarious. Not only do I need to change the name of WWHM, I also need to start trying on women's clothing. I'll start right now with a breezy, summery scarf.)

Welcome Australia!!

We've been getting thousands of hits from Australia today, which should re-assure American women that we're not the only country in the world full of douchebags. Welcome Aussies! Be warned, this website isn't pretty.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

WWHM Election Day Issue!

Good morning WWHM readers, and welcome to the Election Day Issue of WWHM!

And for the thousands of WWHM readers outside the United States, what does Election Day mean? It means your chances of being on the receiving end of a Teledyne AGM-158 high-precision air-to-land missile for a couple of barrels of rotted dinosaur bones just went down about 98%. Congratulations Ulaan Bator, Mongolia, now feel free to go about your regular daily business! We will not steal your sheep!

I'm The Weasel, your cordial host into the shady world of WWHM. What is WWHM you ask?

WWHM is a heavy, nasty and pasty stew of clueless men who have no fucking idea how to relate to women. Are they just shy? Unfortunately, no.

No, we analyze the type of men that make you dry heave like a grass-fed cat. We amalgamate these men into a rancid, viscous ghoulash called WWHM that not only entertains you, but also acts as a fecal-based burning agent that you can cast forth at your enemies eye sockets, causing them to flee post haste in a robust combination of fear and horror.

Well, here I am ready to go cast my vote for President of the United States! You see, in 2004, I tied a string around my finger so I'd remember to vote, but I forgot. So in 2008, I'm stepping it up a notch and chaining myself to Dick Cheney whilst adorning myself with an 18th century cast-iron man-cloak. Man, my balls itch so bad I'm about to release a cauldron of snapping beetles into my over-snug llama-skin cock sleeve. Pray for me!

I can't wait for the results tonight folks, and please make sure you get out and vote today. This is the most important election we will ever face in our lifetime.

As always, let's do the posts...............

(Hey, thank you WWHM fans! November 1st was our 4th month anniversary. With over 300,000 hits, I can't thank you enough. Keep spreading the word of WWHM!)

Unrealistic Expectations

Single Male 49 needs girlfriend

Im looking for a replasement girlfreind that left me// we always fight, so why bother styaing in a relationship with a fucking bitch? .Im looking for skinnywoman with no issues please be pretty and understanding, sexual in bed plus you will cook for mebecuase i can't. Must be pretty, thin, young attractive most important mid 20s under 30 i have trailer and job. Kevinn email kevinnXXXXX @ XXXXX.com

WWHM reader SR writes in:

"Weasel I find it funny how these fat, unattractive, old guys show their cocks in personal ads and say they are seeking 'attractive, thin, young women'. Look at yourself! Go on a diet! Why do they do that?"

Well, luckily for you readers, I was at least able to slice off Kevinn's penis. Unfortunately I used Photoshop, so I'm only speaking metaphorically. On that note, if Lorena Bobbitt ever feels the need to hurl another hastily amputated pair of genitals out of a truck window, all she has to do is visit my "Recycle Bin." It's like a fucking catch basket for a medieval penis guillotine.

SR, that's a great question. Time and time again on WWHM, we find disrespectful assholes posting grainy cellphone photos of their sagging scrotums online, and then expect a Heidi Klum look-alike in red fishnets to break down their trailerhome screen doors holding a tube of KY Jelly in one hand and a steaming bowl of garbanzo beans with a T-bone steak in the other.

Clueless idiots frequently suffer from delusions of grandeur. An ideology that they can expect certain standards from women, yet don't have to meet those same standards themselves. Hence:

"...she has to be thin ..." he scribes, as he generously coats another healthy, whole harp seal with margarine and swallows it like an Advil.

".....I want her to be young......" he ponders in the elevator at Target, gyrating rhythmically while snapping his fingers enthusiastically to instrumental versions of 50's Bing Crosby show tunes.

"...and she must be attractive...." he insists, as two pustulating boils threaten to merge on the crown of his nose like a chain of active Pacific volcanoes, blocked only by the emerging row of malformed horse teeth currently emanating from his nasal passages.

Fortunately, in real environments, women usually respond to these aggressive, gangrenous blowhards by kicking them in the fucking balls so hard their stomachs will have to digest more white swimmers than a starving shark in Laguna Beach on a Labor Day weekend.

By the way, I love the term "replacement girlfriend." Apparently you ladies should stamp 'General Electric' on your asses, because you're just as disposable as a common lightbulb. The next woman to date this guy will have something in common with a lightbulb, however.

She'll be screwed.

Dancing Fools

The Weasel went out to a couple clubs this weekend.

Playing the role of "social maverick," I hid in the corners and nervously sipped a Shirley Temple all night whilst my legs trembled in fear of an actual woman approaching me and attempting to start a conversation. Just the thought of such an occurrence caused my weak bladder to continuously emit a laser thin stream of watermelon-tinted urine into my Haggar slacks, causing an effigy of Our Lady of Guadalupe to form just above my left knee. I was then followed home by 74,000 third-world Catholics with candles and a FOX news crew on a break from distorting reality.

But I witnessed an unspeakable horror at the club, a male behavior so reprehensible yet laughable that today we're gonna play a little show-and-tell with the group.

We're talking about men that dance by themselves in a club and/or bar. The insufferable fucking douchebags with armband tattoos, Ed Hardy T-shirts, and enough Axe Bodyspray to sterilize the entirety of gametes present in the collective wombs of the club.

And I present to you a recorded sample of just such an occurrence. Please note, the girl in this video is openly mocking these guys for attempting to dance sexily by themselves in a comical effort to seduce a woman.



I salute this woman for performing her civic duty of making asses out of these ridiculous cocksmokers. If anyone knows the woman in this video, please forward her name and address to me so I can rub her feet and hand feed her Bon-Bon's in a spa tub for eternity. I love you, sweet damsel.

And I hope to someday tickle your Chiclets.

Animal Attraction: A Brief Synopsis

Furry Companion?

I am interested in "furries" (?) in my area. I am agoraphobic and cannot easily explore outside of my building. Would anyone be willing to come to my condominium in XXXXXXXX tomorrow or Saturday?

When most people spot a moose in their backyard, their first instinct is to run into the house and hide. However, for a few select others, their first instinct is to run into the house and put on a hide- and grab a nice bottle of wine and some Marvin Gaye records while they're at it.

Just kidding. We have to make a distinction first, because in our example above, we're actually describing "bestiality", which refers to humans initiating sexual contact with actual animals. Bestiality is always disgusting, unless I'm alone in the WWHM offices and a confident sheep with a coy demeanor just happens to waltz into my office wearing a frilly garter and dark green eyeshadow. Then it's called youthful exuberance. Followed quickly by alcohol poisoning. Take notes, Mr. Gere.

Today, we're actually going to discuss "furries", a peculiar sexual fetish characterized by a desire to dress up and role-play as an animal. Which is not disgusting at all, but rather just completely fucking odd.

If you think about it, "furry" sex is just like regular sex, only there's no kissing, no touching, and rather than making love to a woman you feel a deep emotional passion for, you're blindly dry-humping the shell of a large plastic Chinese chipmunk ensemble. Wow, talk about some deep thinking on a long drive home.

Psychologists theorize "furries" share a basic set of common traits; frequent exposure to and idolization of animals and animal characters as a youth, a feeling of detachment from other human beings, and a close relationship with a dry cleaner capable of extracting large semen stains from the intricate faux-fur of an overblown raccoon head.

"Plushies" are similar to "furries", only they have an attraction to stuffed animals, as opposed to real animals, or humans dressed as fake animals. In addition, some "furries" may be "plushies" if they enjoy dressing up as an animal and having sex with a stuffed animal rather than another "furry". Am I the only one that feels this blog entry needs a fucking flow chart?

Plushies may outfit their favored animals with multiple genital entry points, as plushies frequently enjoy having sex with stuffed animals. So apparently "double-stuffed" doesn't just apply to Oreo cookies, and we must continue to recognize the differences in the creamy fillings. But God help us if Hasbro and Nabisco ever merge.

Some other "furry" terms? "Yiffing" refers to a sexual act while in costume, a "furpile" denotes group furry sex, "skritching" means affectionately tending to another's costume, and "spooge" is the term used for ejaculate, proving furries aren't always as creative as they think they are.

Lastly, furries utilize the term "furvert" for those who are sexually attracted specifically to college mascots. Indeed I find it odd that a grown man getting boned in a gopher suit refers to someone attracted to the Stanford Tree as a word so closely associated with "pervert."

(WWHM realizes that some of our posts don't live up to the blog name Why Women Hate Men. Being a "furry" is not a reason for women to hate men. In fact, WWHM staff does not find any fetish offensive to women at all. Except poop. And urine. And bestiality. We just like to mix up our posts now and then to make fun of different aspects of human sexuality. Because, fuck, even regular sex is funny. Plus, we'd like to sincerely apologize to Mr. Gere for once again prolonging the stupid "gerbil in the ass" urban legend. He still won't get caught dead in a pet store.)

Saturday, November 1, 2008

I'll Be Back!

Hey guys, I'm running out of town for a swim meet for a couple of days.

As you can see, I bought a new sleek aerodynamic swim outfit. The salesguy said it would cut my time in the 1000-meter by at least one second.

I had high hopes, but for some reason, my time has actually gotten slower. Hmmm.

It's almost feels like I'm dragging something behind me, and for the life of me I can't figure it out. And why are there so many goddamn squirrels in this pool?

Maybe I should shave my legs?

I don't know, but if you guys have any suggestions, let me know.

I'll see you next week.

Thursday, October 30, 2008

WWHM Blames Porn #3,587

I have Exam Fantasy

Come over and explore a patient/doctor fantasy. Come over to my house, and we will do a normal gynicogical exam. I will examine you in a special chair and we will go from there. I have this fantasy for years, very hot Email XXXXXX@. XXX.XXX -Hawk

Occupational fantasies have been around for centuries. Scientists acknowledge pre-historic women often fantasized about sleeping with esteemed tribal firestarters, who probably tired quickly of cavewomen's repeated sexual innuendos regarding his profession. "Yeah, I've never heard that one before," they'd sigh, as another bored and horny cavewoman suggested she knew a place he might want to try and start a fire.

Occupational fantasies continue today. While many men fantasize about sleeping with teachers, nurses or waitresses, women often fantasize about about sleeping with construction workers, police officers or firemen. But gynecologists? Not particularly, which might explain why I still have 60,000 copies of WWHM's The Erect Gynecologist Swimsuit Calendar 2008 collecting dust in my garage. If you'd like to order one today, I'll throw in a jar of cold jelly and a phone shaped like a uterus that gets all emotional and cries when it rings.

Hawk, let me turn the tables on you. Would you answer the following personal ad from a woman?

"Complete stranger would like to come over and scrape the base of your urethra with a Q-Tip."

Maybe I'm asking the wrong guy, but if you can get your dick hard when someone is cyst mining your urethra, you really need to open up and talk about what went on at Bible Camp.

Mr. Sensitivity

Looking for a woman as frustrated as me with this shit

Maybe im just not saying the right stuff in my posts. I wont kill or rape you i swear, just want to make you feel good because as weird as it sounds, there are actually some guys who find great pleasure in making woman feel good just to make the world a better place and dont want to just shoot thier load and dump the bitch To be honest it sickens and insults me at how insensative woman think guys are sometimes. Pael

Hello class! Welcome to WWHM 101, where today we hope to instruct Pael how a woman processes a personal ad.

Right behind a woman's ear lies an absorbent, spongy gland called the GHSP, or goddamn horse shit processor. The GHSP strains and extracts meaningful words and phrases from the virtual spraying shit hose of misinformation, false assurances, and distortions exhibited in men's personal ads. Straining a personal ad is similar to straining a pot of pasta noodles, Pael, only your flaccid penis doesn't haunt our personal space like a fucking boneless ferret hanging from a doorknob.

With the help of my secretary Dolores, I just strained your ad Pael, and her GHSP extracted the words "rape", "kill", "shit" and "bitch." Strangely, it also extracted 450mG of Viagra, a Ronco 3-gear Penis Pump, and a small Scottish boy questioning the whereabouts of his parents.

Dolores' GHSP then sent this information to her cerebral cortex where an appropriate response was formulated- she gouged her eyes out with a spork, threw her ovaries in a fern, took a vow of celibacy, and moved to a remote convent where she now harvests peas and cries herself to sleep at night.

So, yeah Pael, I think you might want to re-think some of the words in your personal ad. But I completely understand how it sickens and insults you that women find men sooooo insensitive. Because you know just what women want: just a grainy photo of your cock, some nauseating discourse, and a generous heaping of blame. That's sensitivity to a woman's needs!

In your next ad, you should offer them a free apron and a vacuum cleaner. That'll get 'em!

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Don Juan

FR sent in this lovely video about a guy with over 100 girlfriends. Quite interesting, and I suggest you share it with your grandparents around the hearth on Thanksgiving.



Lastly, don't worry about the blog trolls, guys. They don't bother me, and just like FHOTD suggests, if you ignore them they just wither back to their little holes and try to find other ways to get the attention they so desperately seek. I'll tell you right now, WWHM is immature and offensive. If you can't handle it, please don't read it. To the thousands that read it every day, thanks for your support and I love you guys.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Prison Break

BAD BOY LOOKING FOR SOME ACTION

im fresh out of prison so dont be scared.im just a good guy who got caught up and robbed banks.no threat.im looking for a girl who wont be afraid to put it on me!im way horny and looking to wreck something!im on limited time so if there is a WOMAN out there and ur interested!hit me up and im there!! Lee

Ladies, let me tell you how horrible prison is.

Imagine getting powerfully fucked in the shower every day by an endless line of brawny, tattooed, dominant and faceless men who use you only to satiate their deepest and most instinctual sexual desires. It's a nightmare scenario that..... um....ok....... apparently we need a 5 minute break so you can all retrieve your vibrators.

Are you done yet? Geez, I haven't seen that many quivering lips since a hunter shot Bambi's mother.

Women seeking to get fucked like a common barn hen may enjoy a romp with a guy like Lee, who posted a personal ad seeking sex from someone who won't leave stubble burns on his thighs or pay him in Saltines. Lee just got out of prison, and would appreciate an opportunity to finally fuck something that doesn't laugh hysterically at farts. If you're up for the challenge, cover some plums with syrup, roll them in cat hair, and hang them from your uterine sponge. That way when he reaches down to tickle your balls, there won't be a stop in the action.

Lee hasn't seen a pussy in so long, he'd probably play Scrabble with it. The cramped confines of prison walls will do that to a man. Spending 7 years in a crowded and uncomfortable space, eating that horrible food, and dealing with such uncaring, brutal employees- imagine flying United Airlines for seven years, but throw in some confrontational ass-fucking. Thankfully for Lee, prison rarely sends your luggage to Guam and patronizes you with a fucking $5 Bartell's coupon.

Proceed with caution: a guy who hasn't been with a woman in seven years will attack your vagina like a threatened bear. Curlers, grannie panties, or Crocs- no antidote will deny his determination to live in the confines of your Levi's for at least a couple months. At work you'll walk around like you just rode a fat horse from Dallas to Fargo, because a guy fresh out of prison puts more miles on your crotch than Christmas puts on a FedEx truck in northern Manitoba.

And thanks for being honest, Lee, about the bank robberies- for a minute there we were concerned you might have committed some kind of crime or something.

Phew.