Why do all men want a bigger penis? That's right, leave it to the Blaque-Man to come out with some shit like that. No preamble, no warning shot. Fuck it. It's my blog, and this is how I get down. Now back to the subject at hand.

My penis is directly attached to my ego. Especially in the bedroom arena. How confident are you going to be if when the time comes to do the damned thing and you pull out the angry inch? You could get laughed at. And trust me, laughing at a man's goods is not cool. Not that it's happened to me, but that's a good way to experience domestic violence! I've heard...

I want a bigger penis because I swear that it was bigger when I was younger. I distinctly remember girls asking me to show it to them even before I was in High School. Now 18 years later it looks like I've got two belly buttons! What the fuck is that about?

Now don't get me wrong. I don't want some knee-scratchin', baby elephant trunk looking shit. That would probably just scare whoever I try to use it with. I've got enough problems getting women in bed without scaring women out the bed. i just want a penis that has good girth, good length, and isn't visually displeasing. Who needs an ugly penis?

As you may know, before I do a post such as this, I do a little research. I found out that the penis enlargement industry (that's right, the penis has it's own industry) brings in over a billion dollars per year. So don't get it twisted, I'm not the only person thinking about this shit. I'm just the only one brave enough to admit it and then write about it.

I blame it on women. Women make us think our units are too small. To all the women who think like that, I propose this to you: Have you ever thought that maybe out penis is fine? Maybe you have a HUGE pussy? How about that? Maybe you should have some elective surgery done and get your ginormous bat-flap looking, beef-curtains trimmed up? Ever thought of that? What about if the next time we're doin it and I'm giving you all I've got and you say 'deeper', what if I hit you with a brick? It's not my fault that you've got the fucking abyss between your legs! Fuck you and your man-flesh eating vagina!

Excuse me, I lost myself...

Anyway, you get the gist. Fuck smilin' Bob. He's just some puppet created to make you feel bad about yourself. Be strong. Be proud of what you've got. And if that doesn't work, do what I do. Date Oriental midgets!

Blaque-Out!

So I walk into my local Nextel/Sprint store... Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke right? I wish it was.

I went in with a friend of mine to exchange my busted ass phone for one that worked. As I entered the store, the girl behind the counter says 'Hi Baby' to me. My friend was astounded, and he let it be known that he was astounded by saying 'What?' really loudly. Me being who I am, I let it go. Small thing to a giant right?

A few minutes later, another woman walks in and says 'Hey Boo'. Again, instead of letting me have my accolades, the asshole I'm with says 'Naw, what the fuck?'. Exactly! What the fuck man! It was as if he couldn't believe that 2 women (did I say incredibly attractive) could find me cute enough to give me a compliment.

Not to be rude, but this has to be told. My boy is no super-model! This brother is UGLY! Sure, he has a nice build (no homo), but that's it. He's got one eye, a fucked up grill, and no class on top of all that. But even with all that against him he has the absolute gaul to be pissed off that I garner more attention than he did.

(Here it comes ) FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, you ugly fucking bastard! Who the fuck are you to even imply that I a woman should be more attracted to you than me? Kiss my ass and bark at the hole while you're down there you faggot!

If it had stopped there, that would have been okay. But this NIGnant fucker has the nerve to keep talking. He actually asked me how I pulled then fine assed bitches! I can only think he thought he was giving me compliment when he called me a pimp. As if I had to be a pimp to get two women in the same place to give me compliments. Again I say, FUCK YOU. This is why I prefer to stay home with my computer! Real people are just way to fucked up!

Blaque-Out!

I'm beginning to think I'm a loser. I'm 35. I live with my mother. I can only see my children when their mothers allow. (That's been getting better, but that's not the focus of this post.) I'm diabetic. I'm morbidly obese. And to top it all off, I'm all balls and no shaft. (Don't make me show the picture again, you know I only speak the truth here.)

I asked my sister what she thought and she assures me that no I am not a loser. It's hard to take her word for it though. She's my sister; what else is she supposed to say? To admit that I'm a loser would be like saying that there's some fucked up gene in our lineage that someone else could be a carrier of. I don't know where I was going with that, but it sounded cool at that moment.

I've got to get somethimg going for myself. At the moment I'm stretching myself a little thin. I've got very limited income. Hell, who doesn't? It doesn't get problematic until you see my expenditures. Three weeks out of the month they match my income. On that fateful 4th month they exceed my income. Admittedly, when I'm finished paying for my Yukon I'll have a bit more disposable income.

Why couldn't I have been born rich instead of so damned good looking?

Blaque-Out!

I've decided that I am no longer capable of making proper choices for myself. I've known this for a short time now, but acknowledging it and doing something about it are two very different things.

By witness of the millions of (possible) readers of my blog, I surrender the power to make decisions about my health to my mother and sister.

I feel better just by writing that. The cool thing is: They don't read my blog, so they'll never know! On the serious tip, my declaration is for real. I'm not going to interfere in their attempts to help me. Even though I heard some alarming rumor about them placing me in an in-patient program, I won't interfere. What can I do? They're not going to do anything any more detrimental to my health than I am by NOT doing anything, I hope you all followed that, because I almost got lost putting it down.

That's all for today. I've got more to say, but I have to fully formulate the concept. You know I like to bring you a well thought out post. Yeah right! Most times I have no idea what the fuck I'm going to write. I just put shit down and put the title in later! Now you know! Oh well, I'm done.

Blaque-Out!

Okay, so I didn't run. I could've, and I probably would've won too! Some of you may remember my platform: Guilt-free head for every man, every day. At precisely 2:00pm every day (eastern time), no matter where you were there would be a woman to give you head. The woman would know the deal. It would be completely legal. Your wife or significant other couldn't get mad at you. It would be great. Why? Because at 3:00pm (eastern time) the women would get the same treatment from the men. Who could think about wars and taxes all kinds of bad shit when you had head to look forward to? I was a shoo in!

So why didn't I run? Obama and Oprah. It turns out that O-man wanted to run but knew that he didn't stand a chance of winning against me. So Oprah called me up and asked me to bow out of this electoral race so he could at least give it a try. Now you have to realize that when Oprah asks you something, she does it in a special way. She offered me the one thing I wanted as much as power. Exposure! Not the kind that Autumn currently has of me on her blog My Way to Vent (shameless plug), but exposure nonetheless.

Now bow out I did. Even though I probably had the best plan for world peace (everyone in the world would get a piece), O-man really believes that he can make a difference. Whatever! Politics isn't really my thing anyway. I guess I'll just stick to this blogging thing and enjoy the popularity and fame it brings me.

It just occurred to me that this is really a He-Man Woman Haters Club type of post. Shit, multi-tasking isn't my thing. If you're still here with me this far into the post I would like to thank you. My posts have been a bit dreary lately, and I know that's not what you come here to find. You come here to find this kind of crazy shit. Why I don't know, but I'm glad you do!

I love each and every one of you (some more than others). May you live as long as you want, and I hope you still can see the humor of a fat person roller skating while eating donuts!

Blaque-Out!