Here's a zinger for you. A guy's best source of information on meeting girls and getting dates is his mom. She's a girl and knows how girls want to be met, treated, messed with, etc. - and - she's the only girl you're ever going to know who'll tell you the truth—unslanted towards a personal agenda—about anything.
On the other hand, a girl's worst source of information on meeting guys and getting dates is her dad. Common sense: 'cause dad don't want no guys sniffing around his baby.
In the following pages, Uncle John, who has a vast amount of experience as a guy—and being the curious person that he is—had a sex change operation and got a vast amount of experience as a girl—and then had another sex change operation 'cause he liked being a guy better—presents the most efficient ways to get somebody of the opposite sex to mess with you.
Watch for Uncle John's new book titled:
"How to Get Lucky With Women Who Don't Drink."
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Chapter One
But first, a few very important things you should know about how it all began.
In the beginning, God said, "Adam, I gave you that really nifty penis to use, not sit around and stare at all day. Now, get out there and poke something."
Adam replied, "Up yours, dude. These animals get really pissed when I try that stuff, and I'm not getting my ass clawed all to hell just so you can watch."
God thought for a moment. "How about I create you a bitch?"
"Cool," said Adam. "You make it; I'll poke it."
So, God created Eve and said, "Adam, this is Eve."
To which Adam exclaimed, "Wow! Look at those tits."
At this, Eve uttered a disgusted "Harrumph," turned on her heels, and stomped off to another part of the garden.
God, sensing trouble, hurried after her, and catching up asked, "Jesus, Eve. Why are you being such a twit?"
Eve replied, "Who's Jesus?"
God said, "Never mind. What I'm concerned about is you copping an attitude just because Adam appreciates a nice rack."
Eve began to cry.
"Christ, Eve," said God. "Stop with the waterworks."
Eve sobbed, "Who's Christ?
"Never mind," yelled God, getting a little flustered. "Look. Here's the deal. It's the beginning, right? This is the time I create stuff, so I created, well, you know… all the stuff. When it was all done I decided to put something alive in this snazzy garden I'd thrown together. So, I created a penis 'cause I thought it would be fun to watch it poke at things. I put it here in the garden, but it just lay there on the ground doing nothing. So I put some legs on it so it could get around, but it kept bumping into things, so I stuck a brain on top to show it where to go. That worked fine, and I named it Adam. Your job is to let it poke at you once in a while. Now, is that asking too much?"
Still sobbing, Eve asked, "But why is it such a pig, and how about a little romance?"
"Number one," replied God, "it's not a pig, it's a penis. Number two, well, sorry, but I didn't add any romance to it, only that poking instinct. That's really all it is, just a penis with a brain to point it towards something to poke at."
Pondering her options, Eve demanded, "Okay, I'll let it poke at me occasionally, but you have to let me run the world."
God said, "Uh, that'll be a little tough since it's bigger than you. But wait, I've got an idea. I'll put something really cool on you like... oh, I don't know... I'll think of something—something that will pretty much guarantee things will always go your way. How's that?"
Eve, now assured she would always be in control of the world and anxious to get started, agreed, then walked back to where Adam was waiting and said, "Hi there big boy! Gee, have you been working out?"
So, after all was said and done, everything worked out just fine. God's happy, Eve's happy and Adam thinks he's happy.
(some more Chapter One)
THERE IS AN ALTERNATE VIEWPOINT
In the beginning, God created Adam and placed him in the Garden of Eden where Adam lived a wonderful, happy, fulfilled life. God, who obviously is a woman—since no man would have invented circumcision—became agitated at seeing Adam so happy, so she created Eve and said, "Eve, go down there and stir up some shit."
Now, Eve, being freshly created, and having no idea how to go about stirring up shit, asked, "How, exactly, do I do that?"
And God, who is no stranger to stirring up shit herself, answered, "Just be yourself."
So Eve went down to the Garden of Eden where, much to the dismay of Adam and all his descendants, she and all her descendants have been stirring their little brains out ever since. Not deliberately, of course, just "being themselves."
Although the story above is fiction, the female propensity for stirring is not. The woman's instinct to keep the air redolent with the smell of shit comes not from a vengeful, man hating, penis-envying, lesbian God, but from the fact that they're smaller than men, have less effect on their physical environment, and get pushed around all their lives. It's their way of saying, "I Exist!" It's the female version of Cogito Ergo Sum – "I stir shit, therefore I am." A strong man can move mountains, shape history, and rule worlds. But, unfortunately, man's majestic accomplishments often collapse under the weight of the unbelievable amount of shit a tiny little woman can stir up. A good example of this was the mighty Samson.... and little, friggin' Delilah.
Understanding the shit stirring instinct, and other bizarre female behavior, requires understanding how smaller organisms use rationalization to, figuratively, level the playing field in order to compete with larger organisms—in this case small women belittling large men in an attempt to create an imagined equality between the sexes. The small female's most obvious effort to affect the above is to corrupt the larger male's basic attitudes and needs by attaching nonsensical values to his actions and motivations. So adept is the female at stirring up shit that she can, in this case, stir where no actual shit exists.
The female's most effective attack on the larger male is to denigrate the male attribute she covets the most: his penis.
By attaching frivolous relevance to that most envied object she attempts to deny the male at least one of his symbols of dominance. Creating such myths as ‘Men like guns because guns remind them of their penis’ is one such attempt to ridicule men's values, thus leveling the field. Women tend to think this is very effective although, in truth it is abhorrent—to say the least—for men to discharge, or even imagine discharging, large caliber weapons, especially those with substantial muzzle blasts, in even the general area of what women secretly consider a magnificent organ.
So, the bottom line is, the next time you take a date to your favorite biker bar, and she starts getting that glazed look on her face... you better get the hell outa there before she starts to stir.
Now that we have an idea of what we’re up against, let’s move on.
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