Fux and Fox

So I was asked about Megan Fox the other night.  The gist of it was,

“you’re telling me you wouldn’t fuck her, yeah come on dude”

My response was, “No, I wouldn’t”

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She is absurdly physically attractive.  However she is a perfect example of the proverbial ‘well worn suit’.  She’s got a killer suit, she just wears it all wrong.

Her poses in photographs, her body language in motion, it screams of crippling insecurity.  It says, ‘I’m hot, and I can have you, or you, or anyone….(I’m no good..please love me..I hate you, I hate me..etc, etc.)’

What do I mean by crippling?  I mean that she is an emotionally needy head case who will try to overpower every obstacle with raw sexuality, and when she smacks into one she can’t conquer with that, she will either try to destroy it or become dangerously obsessed with it.

Bitch got some issues, but that hasn’t stopped me from enjoying a tumble with hot, similarly damaged chicks in the past.  I can hear you now reader, ‘Ooook Tobas, you have to be THAT GUY…the, look at me going against the grain..I’m soooo unique!’

Why wouldn’t I fuck Megan Fox?

Because Megan Fox would be the one doing the fucking.  In her mind, I would just be some nobody having the best 45 seconds of his entire life (I’m not even going to try and pretend I would last more than a minute with someone who looks like that).

Most guys wouldn’t think of that, or care.  I find it impossible not to think about things like that.  Nobody is doing me a favor by sleeping with me, not even Megan Fox.

and now, a poem.

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I would not fuck her in a box,

I would not fuck her in my socks,

I’d close my door and turn the locks,

I would NOT fuck that Megan Fox,

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I would not fuck her in a bed,

Or in a house that’s painted red,

I would not fuck that Fox I said,

I’d rather pull my cock instead.

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