I wonder what you Vampeeps would even consider to be even a romantic date. What I like when I go out with a woman is how I own the fucken place. She is off doing her thing, bathroom, make up, cell phones, whatever girls do you know?

And I case the joint, survey the menu, find out what is fresh from the kitchen, what is recommended, it helps to know what is good in life, and to have a knowledge of the possible fusion of different spices, I can never go wrong. I wish I would go on a date where my girl actually has the taste to pick something right off the menu so she doesn't scarf all of my food because she is an inbred uncultured idiot. She thinks the world of me, but I never see her again, because I am not into people whom can't cook, are afraid to dance, don't play sports, or write in their diary since they were 14, and only have the limit to memorize the cable channels for COMEDY CENTRAL.

And MIss Fuctard, you are ireprehensible, it really is a darn shame. I am actually not a conceited fellow, the charm of me is I have all the talent in the world and I go around giving the right of way to the bum with a broken cane. I sing in the street so children can hear beauty, I push cars out of the snow without a second of hesitation and if the car tires roll over a foot by accident - it didn't happen, and if the guys peels out and I am covered in dirty slush, I still wear those grimy clothes for the next two weeks because frankly I look good in anything, as the sons of Scandinavian supermodels aught to look.

So when you see me walk by and you want to hop on brown professional athlete looking wide shoulders that would floor a gang in 5 minutes without me even botherring to take a breath or sweat because I have three kidneys, and you imagine that you could press your bulging panty panel into the back of my fuzzy blonde neck it ain't gonna happen because you are so fucken outclassed with you in actuality being the crusty the clown culprit, and whatever else you said which is so weak you had to have 5 lame friends come on and pat you on the back for your diluted made up onslaught of niggarisms and pointing fingers with snot dried from babyhood not too long ago.

Ever even been on a date? I never even have to bring fucken money, the girls pay their way because it is an honor to go out with the Prince of New York. The full reason why you wouldn't go out with me is because you wouldn't know what the fuck to do seated next to a gentleman that already ate your edible panties the moment you stepped out of the cab and met at the fountain of the monument of your stupidity.

This one is so good FUCKTARD McFATTY, that I am going to memorialize your moronic idiocy in my journal for all time. You have no taste in men, and good luck being straight because you ain't never gonna find a strgaight man on this planet or a good man either. If you want some light shed on your future, some man is going to treat like shit so bad you are going to start doing animals and eating vegetables. Then your hips are gonna get so wide in your trailer park chainsmoking NEWPORTS and dunking doughnuts, one day you are going to cuff yourself to your bed and no one is going to find you because you got no friends that really freaken care about you, much less rather go on a date with you. Go kill your dog so it will let you hump it.