Meet the Bloggers

My participation in the lonely, isolated hobby that is blogging has introduced me to fine people throughout the world. I have blog-buddies in Canada, England, Australia, Italy, Ireland, and all across the United States. As someone who doesn't like a lot of people I meet in person, this has been an unexpected but welcome benefit of making an ass of myself for the amusement of dozens on a near-daily basis.

I've even met some bloggers in person. None of the beautiful female bloggers I've met wanted to have sex with me, and that killed me a little inside, but I can't say I've met anyone I haven't liked; and since I openly advertise myself as a fat middle-aged impoverished schlub, I don't think it's possible I've disappointed anyone (except Pants, of course).*

I would like to meet other bloggers in the near future. Actually, Blonde is coming to Vegas in May and I'm very excited. We're gonna drink Patron like we're on Spring Break.

Disclaimer time: I'm going to list some things I'd like to do when I meet certain bloggers. Take it as a given that if you're female and single, I want to have sex with you. Is that clear? Gender: Female, Status: Single = I want to bang you. So, I won't mention that again.
Also, I want to meet all of you, but how long would this post be if I mentioned everyone? Pretty fuckin' long, I'd wager. So no hurt feelings, damn it.

Dena: I wouldn't introduce myself to her, since her inevitable rejection of me would crush my spirit. Instead, I would follow her into a coffee house and stare openly and lustily at her fleshy parts, hoping she would notice and either yell at me, blog about it, or god willing, yell at me AND blog about it. I would then be immortalized and could die a happy man.

Anti-hero: He is a smooth dude, so we'd go bar hopping and he could give me some pointers on how not to come off as a complete assbucket in front of the ladies. Then maybe sex wouldn't avoid me like R. Kelly avoids women who are old enough to drive.

Brooke: I'd want Brooke to give me a walking tour of the Jersey shore, but the entire time I'd want her to talk in a Bruce Springsteen voice: "Well, Todd, a lot of folks used to hang out at the pier, but the factory left town and took the people with it. They say at night, when the wind's still and the moon shines down on the abandoned buildings, you can hear the ghosts who still live here, saying a prayer for our souls."

Nick: I'm thinking either Opera or strip club. What are your thoughts, Nick?

Claudia: This is Canadian Claudia, not Vegas Claudia, whom I've met (she rules, by the way). Claudia already knows I want her to do the Wheelbarrell, the Running Man, and any other outdated Soul Train dance in the middle of a posh, crowded Vegas nightclub, preferably while wearing a Sam's Town belly-shirt.

Ubie: I adore Ubie. Her righteous indignation is like food to me, and I'm a fat guy who likes his food, so I think we should go to an abortion clinic and harass the douchebags who harass the female patients. Most people have an opinion about abortion that is a little more nuanced than the media would have us believe, but I have a feeling the sight of old men screaming pseudo-religious hatespeak at teenage girls is something that would get Ubie all riled up. Then, god help those fuckers.

Calzone: I don't even know if Calzone will ever post again, but I have to meet the person behind this creation. I'd probably just sit in awe as he weaved tales of depravity that would make Larry Flynt get up and walk away.

tlsd: I want to give her a lovely tour of Las Vegas using my worst phony British accent ever. I want to say "Pip pip and all that" and "Cheery-O" and use "shan't" in every sentence I utter. Just thinking about it puts a smile on my face.

Princess Steph: We differ politically, so of course I'd want to have a spirited yet civilized discussion of topical issues; followed, of course, by her having hot sex with another gorgeous woman in my presence. Sort of like Crossfire meets Cinemax.

Egan: I would try to talk him into not liking the French so much, maybe by having him speak French to an actual Frenchman. The resulting snooty critique could very well bring him over to my side. Really, I would just want a tour of Seattle, but what's funny about that?

There are so many others, especially the other single female bloggers with whom I want to do the bone-dance. Hope to see you soon.
*Just kidding, Pants. Get well, babe.