PSR and it's practical use!

I have terrible luck attracting good women into my life. It's hard to believe, I know. Who wouldn't want to be with someone so cynical about everything all the time, right? Anyway I have devised what I like to call PSR. It's my personalized skank repellent! If you or someone you know are having guy/lady troubles and turn to the internet to try and find someone special, keep this in mind. Don't just copy and paste this either, it won't be of any use to you if it's not personalized, so just keep that in mind.

"I tend to be cynical about things. I doubt very much that there is a greater meaning to life, thus I take things accordingly. Slightly neurotic about things at times, but everyone does. If you say you don't, then your lying and should be bludgeoned with a can of soup. What brand and kind it is should be left up to your discretion.

I can be fun and outgoing, but most of the time I choose not to be because I already make terrible life decisions when left to my own devices. Then again, you probably have as well.

I'm looking for someone that likes to have a low maintenance relationship. I don't care much for romance, so if your looking to be with someone that reminds you of Prince Charming in Cinderella, you will most likely end up on the floor with a self inflicted gun shot wound to the head when you realize that this is reality and that is a fairy tale.

People have faults. Whoops! Sorry, forgot I was trying to sell something here! I mean... Everyone is special! Anyway, no matter how you look at it, the faults are always what you miss most about a person when they are gone. I don't know why that is, so don't ask me why.

Also not looking for a slut. Funny... I never thought I would ever type those words, but apparently I found something deeper than sex. Oh! If you are interested in someone like me, have your own personality! Nothing is more annoying than a girl that just tries to mirror you and pretends to be like you when in all reality they aren't comfortable with themselves.

Oh, before I forget, I have trust issues. I'm not controlling, people can do whatever they want. I just would appreciate just once to meet someone that has the courage to be honest and straight forward. I'm also brutally honest. Sorry, I'm not going to tell you that I want you or that your sexy if your not. I'm also not going to lie and say that you are really intelligent if your not.

Limiting my options? Not really. For the most part I would rather be with an intelligent woman that looks only okay rather then a hot girl that knows nothing. They tend to not have any opinions that are worth listening to, and they are generally bad in bed. No matter how hot you think you are, there is no replacement for a brain.

If you find any offensive, well then your obviously not looking for the right guy. Go back to your abusive relationships and be miserable. It seems to be the only thing that makes you truly happy. Naturally that would be playing the victim. If you are offended yet interested, then maybe your a little on the weird side... Oh wait, sorry. That would make you a human with a normal emotional range like everyone else. I often confuse the two."

This is a great way to attract (wo)men that are not complete whores and have personalities! Please keep in mind that this is my personalized skank repellent and should not be copied and pasted. I decided to use mine as a template to show you how to go about writing your own. Happy writing, and be selective!

Etiquette for would be muggers

As a rule of thumb whenever I go out to the bars, I throw caution to the wind. Usually because I never have problems with anyone and I don't usually put myself in a position to be in danger. Last night was the exception to this rule.

After I met a girl on the internet I went to have some drinks with her. The night started off fun. I met a gangsta, an unholy black metal goddess and a girl I knew in high school. Of all the people I chatted with I found the goddess the most interesting. She had this cool yet dangerous look in her eyes at all times and the kind of aura that screamed: "You wouldn't want to fuck around with me."

As the night of whistling and yelling at strippers progressed we ended up at another bar. Now the Generator used to be extremely fun, however since the change of ownership it seems to have lost all it's flavor. The once drink stained walls that featured big 80s metal bands have been replaced with a fresh coat of tan colored paint. The dangerous pedestal dance floor has been removed and in it's place is a pastel colored linoleum level dance space. As soon as I stepped inside, I knew I was fucked.

I had no idea why I felt so anxious, but I knew that it was a sign that something bad was about to happen. At the time I didn't know that I was going to willing put myself in such a bad position. I told the girl I had gone to the bar with that I was leaving and that I hope she enjoyed the rest of her night.

As I walked home I had the feeling that someone was following me. I ducked into an alley to spill some urine on a dumpster when all of a sudden a crack head appeared next to me.

"What are you doing tonight?" He asked me. I replied that I was pissing on a dumpster. He then asked me if I would like a blow job. When I declined he grabbed my wrist, I quickly jerked away and shoved him with the hand he grabbed, he staggered half a foot back and turned, I stepped forward and landed a lucky hay maker on his back. He fell, slid about a foot, got up and continued running.

I decided that following him down the dark alley wouldn't be the safest thing to do so I went the other way. Gripped in paranoia I ended up at the girl's place I had gone out with. Her babysitter was nice enough to check out my forearm for any puncture wounds just in case he had a syringe in his hand. There were none, thank the one collective consciousness! I passed out shortly afterward.

Needless to say, the night was completely twisted by this event. I came to this conclusion when I stopped and thought about the situation. I was almost stabbed last night, but at least he had the courtesy of offering a blow job before hand.

Celebrity E-Mail: Octo Mom

Dear Octo Mom,

I have recently been seeing your face grace the covers of the tabloids in the super market. Although I regret to tell you that I do not know your whole story, I see that you had 8 children in one labor sitting and can only assume that this is the reason behind your name.

As I have no children of my own, I have a few questions of how this all works. First off I really am interested to know if you are one of those kink girls I see from time to time on sites that have pornography. I'm not trying to criticize your life style if you are, I am just curious if all 8 children came from one fluid ounce of semen or if it was a combination of 8 different loads. If it is the latter, kudos to you! That is an amazing feat and you should get a plaque made up in your honor!

Next I was wondering what you do when breast feeding? Do you have some sort of circular conveyor belt that systematically feeds two kids at a time, or do you just feed each one individually until another one cries for milk?

Finally the question that is burning deep inside my head most of all is was this a publicity stunt to gain notoriety, or did you actually want to have 8 little ones? I only ask because as I have said before, I don't know the whole story. I would rather hear it from you directly than to read about it in a tabloid magazine.

Thank you for taking the time to read this letter over. I sympathize with how busy I can only imagine you must be and I can only hope that the coming years are filled with joy and warm memories!

Awing over all the cuteness,
-A. Warren Johnson

"Together Now" Excerpt 8

Warren was lying on the floor. He tended to do this whenever something really bothered him. He was already stressed out about selling a screenplay he wrote and Anne just leaving put even more stress on him.

He decided to go find her. It would be an adventure since he wasn’t very good at making his way around Los Angeles. If this were back home he would be able to narrow down exactly where she would go and head over to try and work things out.

He got up off the floor and put his shoes on. He was wondering where he should go. Suddenly it came to him! ‘Borden!’ He thought. He was the only person that they mutually knew! He would try there. Warren walked to the coffee table and grabbed the card with Borden’s number on it and left.

***
Anne and Borden sat at Denny’s drinking coffee. Borden seemed out of place, but Anne being Anne had insisted on Denny’s.

“So let me get this straight. Lindsay Lohan showed up to give Warren his keys, you over reacted to the situation and left?” Borden asked.

“No! I didn’t over react, Warren is the one that over reacted. If he wouldn’t have started getting mad at me I wouldn’t have left.” Anne responded.

“He just answered the door, after getting laid... I don’t see why he would be mad about anything.” Borden said.

“Well I may have started it a bit after he got his keys back.” Anne replied.
Borden’s phone began to ring.

“Pfft. It’s him. Don’t answer it.” Anne stated.

“I still don’t understand why you’re so mad. There is no reason to be. I think you really need to just talk to him.” Borden said.

Borden answered the phone.

“This is Borden speaking.” Borden greeted.

“Hey Borden. Is Anne with you?” Warren asked.

“Yeah, just give me a second okay.” Borden said.

Borden covered the phone and said to Anne, “Business call, I’ll be right back.” Borden got up and walked outside.

“Hey Warren, that’s some fight you two just had.” Borden said.

“Well I wouldn’t call it a fight. Anne is bi-polar. She tends to do this to me a lot. I don’t really know what I did wrong.” Warren confessed.

“Well she’s good, but I agree she is quite angry. She’ll probably stay at my place if I can’t convince her to go home.” Borden stated.

“As long as she is safe, that’s what I’m really worried about.” Warren explained.

“She’ll be fine. Get a coffee, go home and print off a copy of that script. I’ll see you tomorrow at my office and Warren, try not to worry about this. My girlfriend gets cranky with me at times. She might be able to get through to Anne.” Borden comforted Warren.

“Let’s hope so. Later Borden.” Warren said.

“Bye for now.” Borden said. He closed his phone and walked back inside.
“What did he want?” Anne seethed.

“To know if you were okay. Second of all he is just as confused as I am about the whole situation.” Borden explained.

“Well he shouldn’t be. He...” Anne started.

“Seriously Anne, you need to work this out with him. He cares about what happens to you and more importantly he made the decision to come here with no prior plan to try and make you happy and restart a life for both of you.” Borden cut Anne off and tried to reason with her.
“Why are you taking his side?” Anne asked.

“I’m not taking sides. I don’t believe in Heroes and Villains, I believe in the facts. The main fact being that even though you get upset with him from time to time, he’s still there for you.” Borden stated.

“I guess you have a point.” Anne replied.

"Together Now" Excerpt 7

Warren walked through the front door, with excitement radiating off of him.

“Great news! I’m finally selling a script!” Warren exclaimed as he entered.

“YAY! That’s excellent! Now you can get a working visa!” Anne replied as she stood up to greet Warren.

Warren started another sentence, but was quickly occupied by Anne’s sudden lunge on him. Her legs wrapped around his hips and her arms around his neck. Anne buried her tongue deep into his mouth. Warren held Anne by the waist. One thing led to another.

***
Anne and Warren were lying on one of the couches. Warren was holding Anne. Both of them could not help but pant. It was good.

“So how much do you think you will make off it?” Anne asked.

“Not sure yet. Giving it to Borden to look over tomorrow, he said don’t worry about revisions or anything like that, that’s what an editor is for.” Warren answered looking at Anne.

A knock at the door ended the moment abruptly. Anne and Warren exchanged looks as if to decide who would answer it. Warren lost.

He got up from the couch, threw on his jeans and went to the door. Anne got up and quickly put her clothes on. Warren looked back and flashed her a smile and answered the door.

“Yo”, Warren said as he opened the door. It was Lindsay Lohan. Warren’s eyes widened with shock and awe. He felt more surprised to see her for the second time.

“Hey Warren. I felt bad about the other night. I got your car out of the impound for you.” Lindsay said.

Warren lifted his hand so that Lindsay could give him back his keys. “Th... Thank you!” Warren stuttered.

“It was no trouble at all. I’ve done a lot of things wrong in my life, I figured it was about time I did something right.” Lindsay said. A smile crossed her face. “Anyway, I have to go. Good luck here in L.A. I wish you all the best!”

“Yeah, you too!” Warren called after her.

Lindsay waved bye to Warren as he closed the door. He turned around and saw the familiar half glare Anne was sending him. She was pissed off.

“What’s wrong?” Warren asked.

“I think that should be apparent. A slut shows up at the door after we just have sex and you have the nerve to ask me what’s wrong?” Anne replied.

“It was Lindsay fucking Lohan, she got my car out of the impound! Now we don’t have to walk around everywhere, or try and figure out the ridiculous bus system. I thought that would be something to be happy about!” Warren said getting agitated.

“Well you always wanted to be a star fucker. Better not let her get away!” Anne exploded. She walked to the washroom and grabbed her toiletries, returned to the living room and through them in a bag.

“What are you doing?” Warren asked.

“What does it look like? I’m leaving!” Anne retorted. She went to the closet and grabbed some of her clothes and shoved them into the bag.

“Where are you going to go?” Warren pressed further.

“Anywhere but here!” Anne exclaimed.

Anne zipped up the bag, slammed her feet into her shoes and stormed past Warren.

“Goodbye Warren and fuck you!” Anne exasperated. With that Anne left and slammed the door.

Warren stood for a few moments in utter confusion about what had just transpired. The perplexed situation made no sense to him. Still in disbelief and not sure whether or not he should go after her he went and sat one of the couches.

***
Anne walked down the street wondering where to go. She didn’t even know what made her so mad about the situation. All she knew was she was mad and she needed to distance herself from Warren.

This was always the case though. They would get close, then she would back off. Completely ignoring him. The reason she did this was because she was scared. She worried about being with him and then losing him. Losing Warren in any way would be devastating. It scared her how much she cared for him. You can’t miss what you don’t have.

As she walked down the street with her bag on her back she replayed the situation back in her head. There was no real reason she could think of that justified her course of action except that they were getting close again.

‘But now what? Where can I go? I don’t know a goddamn person in this city! Warren probably won’t even come to see if I’m all right. What a fucking asshole!’ Anne thought.
Anne’s cell phone began ringing. She knew Warren didn’t have time on his cell because he had been using hers, so who the hell would be calling?

She reached in her pocket and answered.

“Hello.” She said sternly.

“Hey Anne, is Warren around?” The voice replied. It was Borden.

“Hey Borden, no, we had a fight and I left, could you come pick me up?”