If only I had gone with the "Vatican banker" story more often, I might have hooked up with Anne Hathaway at some point. So close, and yet so far away.
Now that she's single again, I have to make a pitch to the fair Anne. Don't let the 5'2½", 310# physique fool you, baby, I'm a fucking sex walrus with ribbed tusks. You will not be disappointed, especially if you are not disappointed by erectile frustration and shortness of breath. I'm tellin' ya, I'm hung like a manatee and I got fewer legal problems. I have not recently tried to bilk the pope. If you dig Peter Griffin, I sorta look like him in a certain light.
She probably gets this sort of shit all the time. It never hurts to try.
4 comments:
What if her thang is more like the oleaginous sleaze of a Quagmire, Heywood? Can you pull that off, man? ;-)
Oh, giggity-giggity, hells yeah! Actually my model for picking up women is Eddie Murphy in the beginning of Trading Places. The "once you had a man with no legs, you never go back" stuff works every time. The key is finding that line between perseverance and desperation, and obliterating it. Why wow them when you can just wear them down?
Man, get a grip. ;-)
You could do like everyone else and lie like a rug. I've noticed that honesty doesn't seem to work anymore now that I'm not a young studly 25 year old.
There is hope for all of us, if the likes of Hathaway still fall for the Eurotrash likes of Zach Braff.
Or maybe, at heart, she's still one of those provincial American girls who, although stunning, can't resist a cheeseball who can pronounce pasta alla putanesca with the proper accent. Something about Europeans all being sophisticates, or some such crap.
Post a Comment