Liberalguy

I Wanna be a BAD Boy!
By Patrick Hurley (bio)

A study released today confirmed what I have always suspected: Bad Boys get the Girls. My day, along with the rest of my life, is officially RUINED! I have as much chance of being a Bad Boy as James Bond ordering milk. In order for me to get babes, I would have to change several things beginning with that I look like the Pillsbury Doughboy. When I walk into a room, women don’t say, “Psst, check out the guy with the dark side…” They giggle, “Set the oven to 425 degrees and hand me the butter!”

I knew who I was in kindergarten when the sexy Cynthia Hunt kissed me on the CHEEK and said, “You were the nicest boy in class.” A curse that has followed me ever since. I don’t want to be the boy next door who makes people smile. I want to buy a motorcycle and get a tattoo and let what hair I have left on my head to grow down to my ears. Except, that I am scared to death of motorcycles, tattoos hurt and I am about as fierce as Lamb Chop. I am doomed to niceness. Forever.

What is wrong with women, anyway? Why do Bad Boys appeal to them? Why would they want to spend their lives writing to someone in prison?

“Hi honey, your son turned sixteen yesterday and even though it has been ten years since we have heard from you, we both miss you in the deepest of ways. All the diseases you gave me are finally under control and my scars from your beatings are pretty much healed. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. It was my fault that I bought all that beer for you. I will be at your parole board hearing next month to support you because I honestly do believe you are a good man. I know that you killed that bartender because he looked suspiciously at you and that was HIS problem, my love. I am now working three jobs to support us when you finally do come home and I hope that you are enjoying all the chocolate chip cookies I am sending you. You two friends, Lola and Kit still stop by with your other two sons. We all miss you and pray for you. All my love, Stupido.”

When I go on dates, I always pay for the meal. I open the car door and I walk on the outside of a walkway so if anyone gets hit it will be me and not my lady. I always stand in a restaurant when she gets up to powder her nose and I stand again when she comes back into the dining area. I love sending flowers, writing poetry and spoiling a woman. Valentine’s Day is very special to me and I love giving a lady compliments.

In other words, I am a loser.

I need to go to an army surplus store and replace my wardrobe with camo and black. I need to invest in lots of leather and learn how to cuss. It is time to let a few teeth fall out and start drinking HEAVILY. I need to tell my future dates how my dad abused me and how nobody accepted me growing up. She needs to feel my pain and realize I am a rebel without a cause and that at any moment, I could die in a speeding accident or overdose on, uh…heroin? Did I spell it right?

No more Mr. Nice Guy. I need to find a chick who hates herself enough to love me.

If you can’t fight the facts, become one of them. I am buying a new pair of sunglasses, er biker shades, and sweating a lot more without deodorant. I may look like Tim Conway but I am going to start acting like Jack Nicholson. I no longer want to get married to a wonderful gal, I want to get laid every single DAY!

I feel better now.

I think things are going to start changing for the worse now.

Thank God.