And here we have it: probably the first non-football post on the blog. Hey, we never said this was solely a sports blog. This is the quintessential man blog.
As such, I feel as if we should, nay we MUST, lay down the groundwork for one of my favorite pastimes as a red-blooded American: ladies and gentlemen, I’m talking about the art of fiending.
[Sidenote from Oakley: I never heard of the art of fiending that Armando is about to tell you (well since I’ve gotten my fair share of pussy) but I will definitely start using this rare art that many men should start using right now.]
A lot of you may be confused at this point. Am I talking about drug addiction? Well, yes in a way, if your drug of choice is the intact hymen of a virgin or the rush and sensation of a perfectly executed blowjob. Fiending to me and my friends means to eye and examine females in a lascivious and ravenous manner. Many times, it helps actually picturing yourself actually fornicating with said girl. Hey, we never said fiendin’ was easy!
A little backstory: when we were in high school, my friends and I all had lockers adjacent to each other. We pretty much ruled one particular hallway as our group was easily over twenty dudes. It just so happened that our hallway, in addition to sharing residence with a math classroom and an electronics lab (we went to a super nerdy and technical high school…an aside: how did I end up blogging?), housed the sole female bathroom on the floor. An entire day of girls coming into and out of our hallway for our viewing pleasure. Jackpot.
Did we actually, you know, talk to any of these girls or try to initiate them in any way? Of course not! What are we, fags? No, we stared. And dissected her every feature as she exited the bathroom for our second viewing. Now picture this image in your head. A group of ten to fifteen guys, standing around in a circular formation (our Circle Jerk as we affectionately called it), who would go COMPLETELY silent when a girl would enter the hallway to achieve her goal of urination, stare at her, and then converse and rate her looks. And now it’s apparent why we weren’t fully embraced by our high school community.
Regardless, the conversations we had about some of these girls were epic. The debates would rage and get heated. Every minute detail of every girl was analyzed to death. Of course, these conversations led to its inevitable conclusion: the creation of “The List.” Everyone did it in high school, but not quite like this.
We wanted to compile a list ranking EVERY girl in the grade. No one would be left out. And with so many girls in our grade, we needed to have decimals in order to allow for some variation. And of course, we couldn’t just limit it to just our group of friends. We needed basically every faction and clique represented. The ballots were distributed, collected, and tallied by a Jew on Christmas when he had nothing better to do than to fuck around on Microsoft Excel and create The List of all Lists. Fuck, I miss high school.
We distributed the results in small circles at first. We had limited copies and didn’t want it to spread, just for the select few who were ready to hear The Word. Naturally, everyone in the fucking grade saw that thing. Many tears later, we felt a little bad, but knew we had struck gold. I don’t think you understand how pleased we were with this thing. Sure it could’ve been improved here and there, but it was so comprehensive; it was our bible. No joke, I had that thing saved on the desktop of my computer for years. That’s how OCD I am. And I’m still upset that my PC eventually broke down with The List lost inside of it forever.
As college came, I became frightened at the notion that my fiending would be limited. I’d be jonesing for my fiending fix, but would be forced to go to class or play beer pong on occasion and pretend to be perfectly normal. Luckily for me, I became friends with equally perverse people/degenerates. Who knew. We helped take fiending to a new level and, dare I say, it has evolved and become somewhat sophisticated. It really is a miracle that any of us have even spoken to a girl and achieved the moderate success in the dating world we have thus far considering the circumstances. It sounds pretty bad typed but you have no idea. I have described some girls’ faces in the past as “able to take a substantial cumshot…and like it.” Sometimes I disgust and amaze myself.
Anyway, this was not the purpose of this post. Over the course of our years of fiending, we have discovered a system that should become the metric system for rating girls. Fuck the United States and its inches and bushels and perfect tens. I present to you: the area code system. It was taught to me by a co-worker friend of mine, but I have since learned it is commonly used in many social circles. It is our duty to spread the good news folks. The advantages over the ten-based system will manifest themselves shortly.
The system is simple. Like an area code, a “score” for a girl consists of three digits. The first digit, anywhere between 0 and 9, represents the female’s face. 0 is for a mongoloid leper (or your run-of-the-mill wildebeest) and 9 is for your typical cute eighteen-year-old blond with big brown eyes and short pigtails. Wait, did I just say that out loud? We’ll just stick with Adriana Lima as a barometer I guess. The middle digit is easy, a 1 or a 2. One signifies yes, I would indeed pork her, while two signifies, yep you guessed it: I’ll pass on the bacon good sir. The last digit is similar to the first, 0 through 9, but this time represents the female’s body. This one’s a little more open-ended because a body, as any good physician will tell you, consists of multiple parts. A girl has an ass, tits, and legs. That’s it. Sure, things like a stomach, shoulders, hips, and ankles are part of the body as well, but are secondary characteristics that can only detract from a score. Using this system, it should be obvious that a ‘919’ is a perfect score, while a ‘020’ is the lowest of lows. Using this system, let’s take a look at some well-known people. We’ll do cartoons for shits and giggles (and because I actually do enjoy masturbating to cartoons. Not hentai, just plain old cartoons. Some bad habits just never die)
Jessica Rabbit: 919
This is the obvious one. Look at those bazongas! And that ‘come-hither’ face. I jacked off twice while trying to find the right picture to insert into this post. My first childhood love. In 2051 if we have created the technology, I would love for the chance to titty-fuck the shit out of her and add a nice pearl necklace to her outfit. Made from my semen.
Figure I continue with the rabbit/bunny theme, though this one is, you know, actually a fucking rabbit. Still though, look at those perfectly supple breasts, complemented with that tiny waist, which turns into that ass. My heavens, that ass. That ass would make Vida Guerra jealous. And you know Lola works out, so it’s as firm as the grip I have on my cock right now. While her baby blue eyes are gorgeous to look at and they are accentuated perfectly by her eye shadow, she loses points in the face category, because…well, she’s a fucking rabbit for crying out loud.
Officer Jenny: 617
Here’s one that isn’t fully represented by the area code system. Sure, as with any Japanese animated character, Officer Jenny of Pokemon has glorious legs and that innocent wide-eyed look I love so much, but nothing else really jumps out at you. That’s why her face and body earn conservative 6’s and 7’s respectively. However, that middle number is an emphatic ONE as I’m pretty sure she’d give you the fiercest sex of your life. Why Brock was always a bit more fond of Nurse Joy I’d never understand. I always thought she’d be dull and boring in bed, while Jenny would make you wish your dick fell off from the shit she’d do to you. Give me Officer Jenny.
Marge Simpson: 324
Lisa Simpson: 412
I give her ‘1’ in fuckability just because banging her would accomplish a rape fantasy of mine. A hate-fuck if you will. That’s the thing, the middle number is up to you and only you. The parameters you set for fucking or not fucking these prospective females/cartoon characters is entirely up to you. And Lisa Simpson, I’d hate-fuck the shit out of you. Plus, you gotta figure she has a tight pussy.
Betty Rubble: 815
Has there ever been a cartoon character who’d benefit more from implants? Betty’s absolutely stunning and gorgeous, but her tits are just a disappointment. Her legs are nothing to write home about either. I’m upset just thinking about this. No wonder she landed a small-dicked loser like Barney. I’m bitter.
Betty Boop: 518
I never understood the big fuss about her. Sure, her body is smoking, but look at her face. Classic “butter face.” I could envision it contort in orgasm while doing her doggie style, but the hair and hoop earrings do nothing for me. Just a trashy ghetto girl. Go suck some black dick in a dark alley Betty. That being said, I’d still bone her.
Patty Mayonnaise: 010
This poor girl. Not only is her dad a fucking cripple, but she has absolutely nothing going for her. No ass, no tits, nothing. And that face. That fucking face. Doesn’t scream sexy to me, now does it? She’s the type of girl who’d give a handjob. Listen girlfriend, just get on your knees and put that cock in your mouth (I have a theory this is why her and Roger Klotz have a weird sexual tension). Now, why did I give her a ‘one’ in that ever-important middle column? I’d love to bang her just to spite Doug. Really brah? THIS is the girl you’re apeshit over? Sometimes when it comes to sex, I more often that not go for the cool story. Sleeping with Patty and having Doug walk in would be worth the trauma my dick would endure from having to explore her mutant vagina.
There you have it, ladies and gentlemen, the area code system for rating girls. Easy to use and discreet enough to use in public. So whenever we here at the Strong Move describe a girl as a 614 or a 823 or a 412, you know exactly what we’re talking about. So go out, be fruitful, and fiend!