So Who Is The Real Bitch Now, Bitch?

Welcome to WWHM.

As our thousands of faithful WWHM readers know, we've put up a couple posts on WWHM in the last few months showing some of the psychotic, pathetic and bizarre missives crafted by recently spurned men.

We thought the idea was interesting enough to make a suggestion to WWHM readers that they send in any letters, emails, texts or recorded phone messages they have stored on their computers from men who currently house a piece of your goddamn foot straight up their ass.

Because when you dump a guy, he's trolling around with his buddies telling everyone what a fucking bitch you are.

Meanwhile, when he's at home all alone at night in his scared little place, he's writing you pathetic, psychotic and rambling emails and letters because he's a fucking pussy and he can't own up to the fact that he loves you or wants you or whatever.

And believe me, these motherfuckers can write. These guys are writing goddamn novellas, minus the dainty ponies, the dewy fields of wheat, and that weird Indian guy that always pops up with some wise ass shit to say.

We got quite a response from our request for letters, and we decided to post them in a new companion blog. Now, you will find some but not all the sarcastic commentary you find here on WWHM, but you will indeed find the darkened and trampled hearts of guys who apparently should have a background check done before they are even allowed to wield a pair of dull second-grade art classroom scissors. Is WWHM going anywhere? Absolutely not.

So without further ado, I present to you a new blog from WWHM.

The Psychotic. The Pathetic. The Bizarre.

A forum to show men who the real bitch is.

Psychotic Letters From Men

Disguised

I need a meaningful relationship... 53/m

I really want a relationship, but I need to find out why a woman justs wants to have sex with me and nothing else. I mean they're all willing to come over for sex, but anything else is out of the question. They just want sex and all I want is a meaningful relationship. Is it too much to ask?

Is it about my manhood?
I have such a great package, and what I do with it is even more interesting.


Maybe it is my amazing oral abilities that scares them?
My tongue is a normal length, but the softness, and the way I flatten it out, and how I move it makes even my lesbian ex's miss me.

Maybe they can't handle all the gushing orgasms?
I know women like it when I move that slow dance I move. For some reason that move I do makes things very very messy...But in a good way. In a way that makes them wonder what the HELL just happened to me? I've never done that before! Maybe it's because I know how to make woman just explode everywhere. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about.

Oh well, still if there are any of you woman out there that want to help me figure out what's wrong with me, you know what to do... I just want to be in loving relationship with a good woman. Seth

For his next trick, Seth will place his balls in a teacup and tell you it's fucking won-ton soup.

In a brilliant move, Seth has attempted to ingeniously disguise his personal ad seeking sex as a genuine plea for a meaningful relationship. Yeah, that works out pretty well for you Seth. As an encore, I'm going to tape two bee wings to a horse and tell everyone it's a fucking canary. Your ad doesn't fly Seth, but it certainly attracts flies.

It attracts flies because your personal ad is nothing but a shit sandwich. Your false pleas for a relationship at both ends of your personal ad merely symbolize the slices of softened bread which you desperately hope to crisp in the nearest woman's cock toaster. And betwixt these flaccid and flimsy slices of bread, you present an unbelievable layer of shit, bespeckled only by the hollowed kernels of corn that symbolize your empty lies. Let's have a chew on some of those peanuts of truth, shall we?

"My tongue is a normal length, but the softness, and the way I flatten it out, and how I move it makes even my lesbian ex's miss me."

You weakly attempt to make a preposterous point that you eat pussy better than a lesbian. But even the pea-sized hypothalamus of a teenage barn snake could extract the deeper meaning within- the interesting fact that more than one of your exes is now a lesbian. Coincidence? I think not. Perhaps your penis fulfills a prescription for Sominex, yet cannot fulfill a woman- understandable when an intial penetration feels like inserting a quartered snack carrot through the St. Louis arch. And perhaps one might equivocate your oral technique to that of an elderly woman tongue-suckling the juice off the nubbin of a moistened pickle at a senior home gherkin expo.

"Maybe it's because I know how to make woman just explode everywhere. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about."

I know three things that make women explode everywhere; cheating men, unripe green apples with skin, and food poisoning. I don't know which method you use, but my ex-girlfriend read your ad and immediately stated her preference for fucking a punchbowl of E coli.

"I know women like it when I move that slow dance I move."

At 53 years-old I assume you employ some type of ancient Viagra-fueled Lawrence Welk penis polka set to the pleasant musical fumblings of Dick Sitka and His All-Harpsichord Quartet. "Sweatin' to the Oldies" was a Richard Simmons workout tape, not a fantasy theme for desperate women.

What's wrong with you Seth?

You're an ass of the highest order, a false and embellishing braggart humiliating himself in the name of a piece of ass for which you will never have a taste. Enjoy meandering through the fog of your scripted sexual past, because when you come to the clearing that is reality, the crisp and cool air of truth shalt emerge:

If you were that good in bed, you wouldn't be wasting your days dreaming up wayward schoolboy sexual scenarios for a desperate and delusional personal ad.

The Power!

Looking for a fun date 28m

I'm looking for a beautiful woman to accompany me to dinner. Hopefully you are interesting and appreciate my sense of humor. Honestly, I want to get laid of course so you must be the sexual type.

Long term is possible. I am an avid rock climber and enjoy water skiing and hope to compete next year at XXXXXXXXXX. I hope you might enjoy these things but once again I want have sex so please keep that in mind. If you aren't horny than please don't waste my time.

Matt


Today the Weasel will channel Matt's ad to teach women to truly understand and appreciate the overwhelming power of Sperm.

I don't think women spend much time thinking about Sperm. Sure, they know it's something they have to chisel off their ribcage in the morning with a fingernail. They know it tastes like something that leaked out of a helicopter gearbox, and the nuanced flavor tends to haunt their mouth like a Tide-flavored poltergeist. Most importantly, they at least know not to let Sperm around their free-range eggs when nature calls for the cock of a tattooed fry cook born with webbed flippers and some type of fucking bird beak on his forehead.

To men however, Sperm is a version of God. Just take away the powers of fire, lightning and locusts, and replace them with the Power of Pillowstaining, the Power of Bleach, and a wide array of refreshingly original freestyle swimming strokes.

What women don't know is that Sperm makes guys do stupid fucking shit. Ask any guy the stupidest fucking thing he's ever done, and undoubtedly that act will lead directly back to Sperm. Confront Sperm with the evidence, and He'll just sit there whistling and shrugging His shoulders, as if He actually had shoulders. We, as men, must take full responsibility for Sperm's actions. Because without Sperm, we are weak. We are pasty little lambs frightened of our shadows and the wind created by passing flies.

Matt's ad is a perfect example of the power of Sperm. I'm sure Matt's actually a great guy and not as self-centered as his ad appears. So let's take a closer look at what actually transpired:

Matt: "I'm looking for a beautiful woman to to accompany to dinner......".

Sperm: "YOU WILL WRITE 'I HONESTLY WANT TO GET LAID'."

Matt: "I don't know Sperm, I think that's just a little forward and some women might construe it as........."

Sperm "YOU WILL DO IT NOW!"

Matt: Yes sir.

Five minutes later:

Matt: "Long term is possible. I am an avid..........."

Sperm: "YOU WILL WRITE 'IF YOU'RE NOT HORNY DON'T WASTE MY TIME!"

Matt: "Now come on Sperm. I will have zero chance of .... .... . "

Sperm: "YOU WILL DO IT NOW OR I WILL SHRINK YOUR FUCKING SACK AND COAT YOUR FUCKING FACE WITH ACNE!"

Matt: Yes, sir.

As you can see, Matt is simply a worthless pawn in Sperm's game. And the problem is Sperm simply has no game with women.

So how, you ask, do you release a man from Sperm's grip? You must release the Sperm, and if you don't know how to do that yet, you need to visit a Bakersfield biker bar at 1 am with an edible thong, five tabs of ecstasy and a three-ply dental dam.

For after a man ejaculates he is finally a man of his own devices for five minutes, a man with no Sperm. And as you'll immediately discover, a man powered simply by his own devices is a weak, whining little worthless bitch who doesn't want you to touch him and just wants to sleep in the fetal position. So what is a woman to do?

Nothing. You're totally, completely fucked.

Sorry.

(Thankfully, we don't have to listen to the endless confusing ministrations and 577 languages of Vagina. That thing has more opinions than fucking CitySearch. I'm surprised women don't just walk around in circles clucking like a goddamn chicken.)