I ::heart:: this blog. I really do. I wish he would update more often, but it’s always worth the wait. It’s called Why Women Hate Men and it’s written by a man! He describes his blog as, “Actual internet personal ads posted on public dating boards by men who have absolutely no clue how to attract a woman. With immature, inappropriate commentary that is completely satirical in nature.”

We’re like two peas in a pod, no? Actually, this guy is WAY smarter than me and uses some words that I have to look up. I find myself reading through his blog sometimes and going, “Wait. What?” Then I have to go back and reread it slowly so as muh brane can kahm-pre-hend. It’s fantastic though. You should check it out.

Anyway, here’s his most recent post:

Why Women Hate Men Presents: Sex Addict!

SEX ADDICT 57M

very horny 57m sex addict looking for women who want all their holes filled 2 or 3 times a week// I am Married to a friggid wife , I dont have sex with her so I am here to offer sex to any willing young women.

Younger in 19-30 range or up to 35.

I would like meet at the Super 8 motel in XXXXXXX. you cannot sleepover, but I will buy you dinner before or after at the sizzler steakhouse.. Would prefer a married young woman and sex addict . Must enjoy sucking cock / swalowing

Clean, disease free, twats only// also will get you pregnant if desired//

Do not dare ask me for money I am not looking for protsitutes.I will buy youre dinner up to $15 dollars at sizzler

if interested please call

Mike (xxx) xxx xxxx

While Mike’s personal ad initially appears to lack any sort of romantic enticements, please understand that Mike promises he will perform an erotic post-coitus interpretive dance titled “Thanks for Letting Me Slap That Beaver” in a revolting puddle of his own flop sweat.

Now, as most WWHM readers know, I hardly qualify myself as an expert on women. WWHM critics oft contend I use WWHM to “get laid” or “make myself appear more attractive to women,” a completely laughable hypothesis considering my own sexual expertise with women falls somewhere between that of a 4 year-old Amish boy and a gay seagull.

When it comes down to it, I’m essentially as clueless as the next guy when it comes to satisfying a woman’s needs in bed; women demand I treat their vagina like a clown car, and I end up treating it like a gas bill. While a paraplegic drooling chinchilla could manipulate the average penis into orgasm, the pussy presents a whole new host of problems for guys. We have to focus on so many parts- inner, outer, upper, lower, folds, lips, spots, buttons, hoods- it’s like assembling a fucking Mr. Potatohead in your pants. Up until last week, I actually thought the “G Spot” was an inner city discotheque.

So where’s my sexual confidence? Let me put it this way: I’m the only guy in the world who actually caught a woman faking a fake orgasm, and I’m hung like a hamster clit. Job well done dominant small penis gene!

Perhaps I should aspire for the confidence of Mike, our 57 year-old married “sex addict” featured today, who’s looking to wheel out a few dozen of his wheezing sperm into the youthful expanse of a 20 year-old uterus, the sexual equivalent of unloading an Atlantic City casino bus directly into an iPod store. Are young women really this turned on by the thought of getting fucked by an older man? It depends.

Now, I don’t have any problem with older men chasing after younger women, but prepare for the inevitable generational problems. You tell him to bring a vibrator, but he brings a gear-driven mule-drawn dildo called the “Ye Olde Britches Tickler.” He loses his teeth during oral sex, causing your vagina to resemble a rhododendron with porcelain veneers. Fingers stuck to your clitoris? Thanks PolyGrip! And try not to look shocked when old men refer to their ejaculate as “monkey sparkles.”

Yet I have a few major problems with Mike’s ad, so let me “fill in the holes” as Mike so eloquently states. First, Mike chose to deliberately detonate a “twat” bomb in his personal ad. The word “twat” originates from the Old Norse term “pveit” which literally means “to form a clearing in the forest,” ironic considering the immediate re-forestation caused by the use of the word “twat.” WWHM would like to kindly suggest all men refrain from detonating a “twat” bomb in their personal ads, as not only do women find it particularly offensive, but it also makes kittens cry.

Yet Mike’s unfortunate twatsplosion pales in comparison to his misappropriation of the term “sexual addiction.” Philandering men often like to utilize the “sexual addiction” excuse as a form of insanity defense against their recurring extra-marital affairs, but like any insanity defense, the “insanity” usually applies more to the defense than the actual defendant.

To imply that some sort of “sexual addiction” causes your infidelity is to imply you have no control over your penis, but rather you are simply a victim of it’s headstrong whims. It suggests the penis has the ability to make independent decisions, as if a penis might wake up some morning and suddenly apply for archery lessons, read Algonqian poetry, or perhaps sample a variety of odiferous cheeses.

The truth is we, as men, spend our entire lives actively seeking penile recreational opportunities, yet when caught cheating by our significant others, we might blame sexual addiction and respond “Oh …. , it just happened.” Believe me, I’m in my 30′s, and for me pussy has never just “happened.” I have to search it out like Ponce de Leon.

Besides, calling yourself a sex addict because you want sex 2-3 times a week is like calling yourself a food addict because you had a light chicken salad for lunch. You’re not a sex addict if you want sex 2-3 times a week; you’re a sex addict if you’re fucking a light chicken salad.

And believe me, I should know.

I used to live with a recovering sex addict.

A real one.

[It continues here, and is WELL WORTH the click.]

GENIUS, no?