WARNING: Hanging out with the guys

   
   "WARNING:  Hanging out with the guys"
  
   Being a bit anti-social, yet in a state of ultra-sublimity mind you, I still have the personal history of engaging in locker room talk with guy friends at the pub before I hit my 40's.  It was totally toxic and severely sick.  Just plain, damn wrong.  But what the hell--we ARE guys!  Who gives a stinking rat's ass!?!  No politically correct blasphemy concerning our Bill of Rights.  
   Anyway, I was 33; moreover, still eyeing the ladies in tight jeans and short shorts in the rural aspects of Arkansas.  So one moonlit night, cruising in my creepy mini-van, I wended my weird way to the local tavern, pub, whatever, and ran into a crazy dude whose Dad owned a car dealership--they were filthy rich for Arkansas standards.  Unless of course you're Hillary Clinton and feed off of the reptilian money from atop the venomous volcano.
   So, we had a few domestic lagers; next, I ignited the evil and insidious flare of tobacco, and the symposium began on human sexuality--an anthropological kinda class for us Arkansas boys.
   Dude probed me with non-gay inquiry, asking:  "Hey Mark, you know what a Dirty Sanchez is?"
   Indeed, I did not, simply replying:  "Nope."
   He further ignited my intoxication by spilling the scatological beans about fecal matter and a girl's upper lip.  Hell, I was divinely disgusted.  Punished myself; specifically, mortified my senses by going home and engaging in ascetic prayer--yeah, an ascetic who smokes cigarettes, really?  Yup, anything is possible.
   So, that's hanging out with the guys.  Girls, don't let them do that shit to you.  Be a lady, unless of course you're steam-rolling over the minds of meek-minded men, royally emasculating bigger bums than me.