In All the Wrong Places
It's no secret that Lowtax and I are both single. We've exhausted all more conventional methods for securing a date to the big dance - the Sadie-Hawkins Dance - and we have each turned to less traditional means of finding a foxy young lady to trip the light fantastic with. We have been scouring the personal ads in newspapers and online (not together, this isn't some knitting club), we've tried date lines; heck I have even tried a Russian mail order bride. She turned out to be a revolutionary from Chechnya who kidnapped me for money and cut several of my fingers off with bolt-cutters. After she ran off with the ransom money I called her and left like ten messages on her machine but she would not return my calls. Bitch.
Then I realized; why are we spending all this time trying to find the right woman when we can just post a personal profile on the internet and let the fine young ladies flock to us? I talked to Lowtax about this and he thought this was a great idea, so I ran with it and developed the "Awful Sexy Man Catalog". So far Lowtax and I are the only items offered in the catalog. It's not even really a catalog it's just our steamy personal profiles posted here at Something Awful, carefully tailored to drive the women absolutely crazy.
I was going to do myself first but R-Lo just kept shrieking, "Second place is first loser! Second place is first loser!" Since he wouldn't shut up and it's his web site anyway, prepare to feast your eyes and reading comprehension brain-centers on Rich "Lowtax" Kyanka: Information Stallion. He insisted I call him that.
Rich "Lowtax" KyankaNOT A PHOTO: COMPUTER RECREATION.E-mail: [email protected]
Sexual Orientation: It's been so long that I've forgotten.
Describe your appearance in five words or less: Winsome.
What are you looking for in a partner: A steady pulse, functional skeletal system, resistance to CHUDs.
What can you offer a partner: The chance to clean my filthy kitchen.
Turn ons: Gunpowder, Sonic the Hedgehog, trampolines, homosexuals.
Turn offs: Nepotism, rotting corpses, property deeds, those robots from the 1960's that were supposed to kill people but instead just lumbered around for an hour.
Interests: Sleep, showering, sleeping in the shower, avoiding mass murderers.
Income: Depends on what section of Seattle I'm panhandling in.
Automobile: Yes please!
Other comments: I've been thrown off the National Basketball Association because my debilitating foot fetish caused me to uncontrollably ejaculate in other players' lockers. Once I saw what I thought was a UFO but later it turned out to be my reflection in the mirror. I will not date vampires or anybody from France. My only goal in life is to get so fat that I have to take up two funeral plots, so I hope you have ample transportation to accommodate this. If you're ugly, I will request for you to get a new face. Must be willing to defend me from mutants in a post-apocalyptic nightmare world.
Rowr! Ladies, how can you resists an apple-cheeked face like that!? Do you see that? He is jerking off on that bus JUST FOR YOU! Head to those e-mail programs and fire off some purple prose to the esteemed Mr. Kyanka, I am sure he can't wait to respond. Some people say Don Juan was the greatest lover the world has ever known, but to those who agree I would like to point you in the direction of R-Lo and invite you to give him a test ride. You won't be disappointed!
Let's take a look at your other choice: Hunka-hunka burnin' love, Zack Parsons!
Zack "Geist Editor" ParsonsNOT A PHOTO: COMPUTER RECREATION.E-mail: [email protected]
Sexual Orientation: Apathetically Heterosexual
Describe your appearance in five words or less: I have a giant head.
What are you looking for in a partner: Ladies, what can I say? I can say a lot, that's for sure. I am looking for a woman to settle down with, maybe build a nest like a bird with you in the branches of a Great Redwood, or build a hut on legs like mythological Russian witch Baba Yaga. I'm looking for a caring, intelligent, and attractive woman who is willing to cook for me, do my laundry, earn money to support my meth habit, fellate my friends if asked, and most importantly, knows how to treat her own head injuries and conceal bruising with makeup without looking "trashy".
What can you offer a partner: I won't hit you unless you make me. I shower sometimes. I have a callus on my hand from using the mouse too much. Did I mention my head is gigantic?
Turn ons: The Board Game "Sorry!", women other than you, testosterone injections, documentaries about Hitler.
Turn offs: Hair in my food, sass, when my shirt isn't fucking ironed right you lazy sow.
Interests: Candle light dinners, skiing, dancing, sharing champagne in a hot tub together while snow falls on pine boughs, blow jobs, simulated rape, sadistic genital torture, anal fisting, Bismarcking, and you, sunshine.
Income: How much do you make?
Automobile: 1996 Ford Escort (gray) with "BATMAN" painted on the side.
Other comments: In 1999 I received the Nobel Prize in Applied Physics while on the campus of the University of Michigan. Despite the opinions of Michigan State investigators I had nothing to do with the disappearance of Nobel Prize recipient Hanz Mueller. I also don't know anything about those nurses. Sometimes late at night I can hear the way the electricity is vibrating in the walls and I think if I close my eyes I can follow the sound to the power plant. They have a chamber inside the power plant where if I walk in I will become one with the electric grid and be able to shoot out of wall sockets and control machinery like that guy in "Shocker". Either that or it will be like "Tron" and I'll get to ride a motorcycle in heaven with a beeping animated cursor. I smell your stink cow woman, bring it to me and please me forthwith!
Act now ladies and the man with the super-sized noggin can be yours to take home! He will cuddle with you tenderly at night and will only steal out of your bed three or four times attempting to sodomize your furniture and houseplants. Wait! That's me I'm talking about. I'm a great man, a patriot, and an upstanding member of the citizenry. I am also quite the man about town.
Did Louis C.K. jerk off in front of two female comics? And why are these ladies squandering an opportunity to learn from a comedy legend?
Elliot said my breakup must have been due to the sweater curse, an unexplained phenomenon where anyone who gives their significant other a hand-knit sweater gets dumped. The only way to break the curse, Elliot said, was to destroy the sweater.
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