"Wieners" by Mr. Banana Hammock (not Omari)

OMARI! on the Silver Spring Express. Woo Hoo.

To date, I have not typed a single line on a topic of importance to some 30 million American men, including about half of all men aged 40 to 70 years: erectile dysfunction or ED. ED of course is the inability for a man to achieve or maintain an erection adequate to perform sexual intercourse. Mr. Banana Hammock has never encountered this problem, but it worries me some as I draw closer and closer to my 40th birthday.

For those of you who are unaware of the physiology behind erections, or perhaps have never seen an erection, since most of the women on this message board are single and virgins, undoubtedly “waiting for marriage,” when a man is sexually excited, the arteries in wiener relax and widen. This allows more blood to flow into the wiener. The increased blood flow causes the wiener to become hard and erect. The veins that normally carry blood away from the wiener then become compressed. This restricts the blood flow out of the wiener. With more blood flowing in and less flowing out, the wiener enlarges, resulting in an erection.

I’ve seen a lot of movies in my day, and one thing that I’ve noticed is that wieners in R-rated movies are flaccid (or the actor suffers from erectile dysfunction I suppose). I’ve heard tell that there are plenty of hard ones in “blue” movies, which I of course don’t watch. The movie that I am thinking about is “Revenge of the Cheerleaders.”

“Revenge of the Cheerleaders” stars a young David Hasselhoff in the role of his career, Boner. The movie tells the tale of a fictitious Aloha High School and the problem it faces regarding a possible forced merger with Lincoln, which is a "vocational" High School, not nearly as uppity as Aloha. The Aloha High Cheerleaders are not down with the possibility of the merger and plan to stop it from happening at any cost. Especially if the cost is friggin' every wiener in town! But most of the sexual activity involves the guys on their own basketball team, Boner included, the star center of the team. The young Haselhoff displays many of his talents including a fantastic dance number and another of the “full frontal” variety.

Perhaps the erect wiener in movies was seen as a threatening menace and therefore not allowed in R-rated movies. With the rise of feminism, the wiener was no longer seen as a gift from god, but a thing to be feared. It was no longer a mechanism to be pondered, nor the giver of life and civilization, but rather a menacing threat to womanhood. Especially the erect kind, a reminder of violence. A social enforcer of male dominance and heteronormativity.

From his website biography I found out that David Hasselhoff is not only a Baltimore native, but is also one of the most recognized faces on television throughout the world and was named one of "TV's Ten Most Powerful Stars" by TV Guide, and "Most Watched TV Star" by the Guinness Book of World Records. And whether he’s Michael Knight in TV’s “Knight Rider” or Mitch Buchannon in TV’s “Baywatch,” “Baywatch: Panic at Malibu Pier,” “Baywatch: River of No Return,” or "Baywatch Nights," Mr. Hasselhoff is playing that hairy-chest, wiener-wielding Alpha Male that feminists find so threatening.

I think I need a vacation.



He gets letters:

"Lol. I like that. It pissed me off in some parts,but the rest, I laughed very hard. I am sorry this is a concern of yours. I had an ex-boyfriend with ED, and he was only 28. He didn't admit he had a problem, and he made it up in other ways. :o) I am sure, if this becomes a problem, you look like the kind of guy who could easily still satisfy a women."

"would love to suck on your cock ..........."

Amateur Gynecologist wouldn't mind LTR either

Him? Professional. Me? Amateur

Hello,
I am serious...maybe Craigslist can assist me in locating a smart, fecund, lady in whom I can implant my man-seed for baby-making. Before actual baby-making, I will need a couple of years practice baby-making. I am a swashbuckling, modestly evil man-child that is both outdoorsy and indoorsy. I adore seedy bars, travel, the vocal stylings of Jenny Lewis, and have a life that is under control for the most part. My middle name is Matthew but I thinking of changing it to “drama.”

Only serious replies get a response promptly. Please relate your needs and tell me about yourself in some detail. No longer psycho-friendly.

Thanks

"Victor Wong" by Mr. Banana Hammock (not Omari)

OMARI returns...

Today I came in late this morning. My voicemail was again fully loaded with messages from Dr. Carlos Martin something or another. You may recall he left a message on my voice mail yesterday. He’s reportedly in “intelligence prison.” A follow-up call by him where I got to talk with him in person revealed that “intelligence prison" is a euphemism for “nursing home.” So again for you code breakers out there, A is the first letter, I is the 9th and S is the 19th. ABC goes into 2, DEF into 3, GHI into 4, and so on.

In today’s installment I found out that 1903 Essex Road upside down is 1603. Dr. Carlos Martin something or another is also the “it” and the “and” which means that Jesse Helms is not the “and.” (there can be only one you see). And remember, all of this has grave implications for the health of Larry King’s wife.

I was up late last night watching John Carpenter’s “Prince of Darkness” starring Victor Wong as Prof. Howard Birack, possibly the only non-Asian role in his illustrious career, which has spanned several decades. He’s played Grandpa Mori Tanaka in “3 Ninjas” and “3 Ninjas Kick Back,” Mr. Wong in “Jade,” and Walter Chang in “Tremors,” among other roles. I was impressed. This versatile actor can not only play a non-Asian, but also can play a Japanese guy in one film and a Chinese guy in another film. Wow. Why he hasn’t won an Oscar is beyond my comprehension.

It saddened me somewhat. The film was not uplifting like “The Highlander,” whose main character, Christopher Lambert, plays Connor MacLeod, a Scot with a decidedly Swiss/French accent. Sean Connery, a Scot, plays Juan Sanchez Villa-Lobos Ramirez, a Spaniard with a Scottish accent. In this film, literally, there can be only one and luckily Mr. Lambert wins the “prize.” The “prize” it turns out is mortality and having kids. Go figure.

And who can forget Clancy Brown, who plays The Kurgan in “The Highlander” and Captain Hadley in “The Shawshank Redemption”? His memorable line to Tim Robbins was “You're gonna look real funny sucking my dick with no teeth.” And while the visual probably isn’t all that funny, I’m sure the sensation would be fantastic.

"Larry King's Wife" by Mr. Banana Hammock (not Omari)

Oh-mari.

So after the excellent Pink Martini show, I hurried home to catch a show on TLC called “The Boy Who’s Skin Fell Off.” This English guy, thirty-six-year-old Jonny Kennedy was born with a terrible genetic condition called dystrophic epidermolysis bullosa, which meant that his skin literally fell off at the slightest touch, leaving his body covered in agonizing sores and leading to his final fight against terminal skin cancer. It was very depressing. He also had a high voice.

While that show was really sad, what followed this morning was truly bizarre. I got a call this morning from a Dr. Carlos Martin something or another. He left a message on my voice mail. He’s reportedly in “intelligence prison.” A follow-up call by him revealed that “intelligence prison" is a euphemism for “nursing home.” So for you code breakers out there, A is the first letter, I is the 9th and S is the 19th. ABC goes into 2, DEF into 3, GHI into 4, and so on. If you can break it, this apparently might have implications for the health of Larry King’s wife, who is dying of Alzheimers and a kidney infection. Her life, apparently, hangs in the balance.

This isn’t the first time I’ve dealt with Alzheimers. Once I was a waiter in a hotel restaurant. A wealthy elderly woman lived in the hotel and took classes at the University of Michigan. One day she snapped and left me a $14,000 tip on a $7 egg white chicken liver omelet. Bless her heart. It would’ve gotten me out of student loan debt. Did I collect? Nope. Am I still bitter? I guess so.

Oh, and for all you sensitive souls who demand music with empathy, and loud guitars, Ian MacKaye’s “Evens” are playing Ft. Reno on Thursday. I’ll be there, but I’m too shy to talk to girls.

What the feck

Or what the heck.

Has your social life has fallen into a rut and you need help climbing out? I’m looking for a professional, fit, attractive and intelligent women that can pull several G’s. I don’t know if I’ve ever been mistaken for a metrosexual, but I have been for gay. Women actually think they’re safe going home with me...HA! HA! Actually, I tend to surprise most women if they tend to judge books by their respective covers. Not sure what to expect from CL but nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Thanks for lookin’

p.s. In addition to an X-Wing fighter, I also have FUR SHOES and several TOWELS.

Dare you experience my superior version of man on woman sensuality?

Nobody mockworthy today. Oh well, yet another Mark Leyner inspired post. Red meat for the ladies of craigslist...

Since my current projects are coming to an end, I’m updating my resume and preparing for an afternoon interview. I’m in my Carla Behrle leather pants. No shirt. My medallion of a Buddha Vitarka Mudra flanked by a couple of Bodhisattvas bounces off my rock hard pecs as I type. My head bouncing in rhythm to music that only I can hear. I was in the gym earlier today. Day 89 of my new fitness regime. My SuperFreak Workout for Juiced-Up Psychos. I can still feel the pump. I can still feel the burn. I’m contemplating what I want to eat for dinner. I’m thinking, Piccola Scimmia con Vino Rosso. Spider monkey is best served con Aceto, braised in vinegar and maybe rosemary, but our cafeteria is a bit limited.

My commute this morning was quite dull. I got up later than normal. Apparently of PUMP TECH™ washed down with ISS Effervescent Creatine Orange and mojitos was not a good mix. Anyway, I was late and there were fewer lovelies on red line from Dupont Circle than usual. I soldiered on and gave a flex wink point with a trigger-finger to a few and gave them a series of poses that drove them nuts: Front Double Biceps, Front Lat Spread, Side Chest, Back Double Biceps, and signature Back Lat Spread. They are impressed with my physique and mien -- muscle mass, density, ripped definition, intensity, mental focus, dignity, flair, humility.

A few want me to sign their breasts. I graciously accede to their requests with my Mr. Sharpie. Then I settle into my magazine. An article on very expensive yachts. I should get one of those, I’m thinking.

Me you ask? Job seeking. Looking good. Working out. Signing women’s breasts with a Mr. Sharpie. That is what I am about. And if you want to experience my superior version of man on woman sensuality, you know where to write.

He gets letters:

"Pleeeeeeeeassssse sign mine"

"Khan" by Mr. Banana Hammock (not Omari)

Still more OMARI, who posted yesterday....

I’m going to be seeing Pink Martini at the 9:30 club tonight with a good friend. Full disclosure I suppose is in order: 1) I know nothing about Pink Martini and 2) My good friend is someone I once dated. I just now googled Pink Martini and found this description on their site: “Somewhere between a 1930s Cuban dance orchestra, a classical chamber music ensemble, a Brasilian marching street band and Japanese film noir is the 12-piece Pink Martini.” Good. Maybe a chance to perfect the dance that I am known for, the “white man’s overbite.”

Reflecting on the Cuba connection, it seems somewhat ironic that Cuba has been playing an important part of my life lately. Not only am I going to see the apparently Cuban-influenced Pink Martini, I am reading a book called “The Invisible Government” about the Bay of Pigs fiasco, and last night I had a mojito. Curious. Actually I had two mojitos. I was celebrating my belated birthday with said friend above and I lucked out with a very awesome t-shirt that reads, “KHAAAAAAAN!”

While I am not a huge trekkie or anything like that, “The Wrath of Khan” is probably one of my favorite of the Star Trek movies. It starred a young and not fat Kirstie Alley as Lt. Saavik and of course Ricardo Montalban as Khan Noonien Singh. Mr. Montalban is known mostly to me for his role as Mr. Roarke on “Fantasy Island” and his seductive pitching of the Chrysler Cordoba, with its "rich, Corinthian leather." I’m still not sure what that means, but I know I wanted some. I think I still might.

At some point after the second mojito last night I was doing what I do best, dispensing quality relationship advice. And while I don’t wish to breach any confidences, I would suggest that you wait until at least the fifth date, ladies, before you whip out your “bend-over boyfriend.”

"Breast Friends" by Mr. Banana Hammock (not Omari)

Omari posts Saturday with thoughts on jumping off cliffs? Mine mentions cliffs. And Daryl Hannah's prescience. Eerie, no?

Watching "Summer Lovers" the other day, it struck me that it has been a long time since I have been to a nude beach. The film, released in 1982 stars a young Daryl Hannah and Peter Gallagher (who plays Sandy Cohen in "The O.C."). Daryl and Peter go to what I am pretty sure is Santorini for the summer and are dazzled by the beauty and the uninhibited people surrounding them. Peter meets and begins an affair with a French woman, played by Valérie Quennessen. Valérie played the princess in Conan the Barbarian which was released the same year. Anyway, Daryl discovers this and goes to confront the other woman. At some point they begin a three-way love affair. Before all this happens, they spend a lot of time in various states of undress, frolicking on a beach. Lot's of boobs. Somewhere I'd be happy to be frolicking right now. With or without two naked women who are also sleeping with me.

While I am indeed what some might call a "breast man," I'm a big fan of nude beaches not for the nudity of others, but rather my own. What I am not a big fan of is bathing suits. Letting it all hang out appeals to me. My favorite nude beach is at the bottom of the Gay Head Cliffs on Martha's Vineyard. Above it is a big tourist spot. Little do they know that below is probably one of the finest nude beaches on the East Coast. A long time ago pools of liquified clay formed at the base of the multi-colored clay cliffs and people would soak in the clay and walk around naked wearing kind of dried clay "clothes." This practice was stopped a bit ago when the government gave the cliffs back to the local native american population and because the clay was sacred, people were asked to not wear it any longer.

The beach is also famous, or maybe infamous,because it is the beach where the detritus from JFK Jr.'s crashed Piper Saratoga washed ashore. John-John and his wife were heading from Manhattan to the family compound on the Vineyard when it crashed. The family had lived in Manhattan since the assassination of JFK, when Jacqueline Kennedy became "Jackie O," marrying Greek shipping magnate Aristotle Onassis. Before Kennedy married Carolyn Bessette, there was much speculation that he might settle down with Daryl Hannah, whom he dated for five years, and coincidentally had been to Greece years before to film "Summer Lovers."

I began to think about what the world would've lost had it been Daryl in the Piper Saratoga instead of Carolyn. I don't think "Kill Bill," Vols. I or II would've been the same. And neither would have a string of straight to video films like "Dancing at the Blue Iguana." And then a chill went down my back when I recalled a remark that Daryl Hannah's character makes in the film "Summer Lovers." She tells Peter while they are frolicking on a nude beach that when she was little she wanted to be a mermaid. Two years later she starred as a mermaid in Splash.

Kind of makes you think, doesn't it?

"Ice" by Mr. Banana Hammock (not Omari)

OOOOOO-MARI. That is all.

Last night I was making myself a cocktail after washing my dishes and Tupperware. The Tupperware once was the proud home of a penne dish that I took for lunch yesterday. It’s was a “raw” or uncooked sauce of parsley, garlic, olive oil, those cute little tiny tomatoes cut in half, kalamata olives, parmasean and romano cheese, salt and pepper. Yum.

Anyway, so I’m done washing the dishes and my hands are a little damp. I reach into the freezer and jam my hand into a big bag of ice cubes, pull it out to put the ice into a glass, and the ice isn’t going into the glass. It’s stuck to my hand. I’m shaking and shaking my hand over the glass and the ice won’t come off. So I’m off to my computer and with my one good, non-ice-filled hand I’m googling this phenomenon. Apparently at the molecular level, there are an awful lot of molecules that are left "hanging" - left searching for a partner to join with in a hydrogen bonding arrangement. When ice comes in contact with another surface that is capable of forming hydrogen bonds, like my wet hand, then it will stick to that surface. Basically, my skin was very suitable for forming these interactions. Thank you Todd Whitcombe, Associate Professor, Chemistry!!

My search also came up with a link for nude pictures of Katie Holmes. I suppose because she was in a movie called “The Ice Storm.” I think the pictures might have been photoshopped as I don’t think she’s done any nude scenes in her movies (if she has, please send me pics). Ok Ok, in the movie she plays Libbets Casey, the love interest of Toby Maguire in a coming of age film which depicts middle class families in Connecticut involved in the sexual revolution and declining morals of the 70s.

My biggest memory of that film was the “key party” near the end of the film. I’ve never been to a key party for a number of reasons. One, I was probably too young in the 70s. Also, I’ve never been married. And last, I’ve never been invited to a key party. I guess if I ever am, I’ll bring that penne dish. That was some damn good pasta.

It's too bad there isn't enough of me to go around

Yea! Another homage to Mark Leyner...

I wake up this morning thinking it was Saturday instead of Friday. Drat. Instead of cleaning my Adams Morgan compound I’ll be going to work. But first breakfast. Then the gym. For now, I’m unclothed and contemplating my body in the mirrors on the ceiling of my bedroom -- total fitness and power, ripped definition,intensity, stamina, endurance, mental focus.

Breakfast? Penguin eggs and macaque bacon. A glass of breakfast wine. I head down to Tryst to pick up a double-cap-frap-half-caf-mocha-something-or-another and head to the gym. I’m in my Carla Behrle leather pants. No shirt. I jump the 42 to Dupont Circle and take the red line to Judiciary Square. I flex for the ladies on the platform. I hit them with a Front Abdominal-Thigh Isolation then move into a Back Double Biceps. I finish off with my signature pose, a Front Single Biceps while I point with my right hand at a special someone and give her a wink. Brown hair and blue eyes. I settle into my New Yorker, my head bobbing in rhythm to music only I can hear. She gets off at Metro Center.

I hit the gym. Slip out of my Carla Behrle leather pants and into my hot pink banana hammock, apply some bikini bite, and get started. Preacher Reverse Curl, Seated Concentration Curl, Crossover Chest Fly, Pullover Crunch. Done, I hit the shower. I air dry. My body glistens as I practice my posedowns in the mirror and I’m thinking that it’s too bad there is not enough of me to go around. Not all the lovelies in the Metro DC area can have a piece of this, but someone out there somewhere might.

I settle into my office. My chunky gold bracelet keeps clanging on the keyboard as I type. Why do I do this you ask? I can't leave the exploration of hot man on woman sensuality to the crude F&N poster, whoever the hell he was. And if you think you can handle the sublime beauty and hyper-erotic nature of what I have to offer, you know where to get in touch.

He gets letters:

"very good read - great visualization"

Dressing room sex?

Response to a rather sordid tale of dressing room sex...

Dear Penthouse:

I never believed your letters until it happened to me. I work in retail at a well known clothing store when one day a rather impatient boyfriend was waiting on his girlfriend trying on armfuls of clothing. It was rather annoying since my employer makes me refold the garments a special way, and well, let’s just say it is a big pain in the ass. Anyway, like, it wasn’t nearly as bad as the older married guy had it. OMG he was carrying his wife’s purse!

Anyway, I’m folding this bitch’s clothes she DOESN’T want. Like almost all of them. While I’m doing this I see the boyfriend go into the ladies dressing room and I’m thinking, WTF. So I go over there and knock on the door and stick my head in. I’m like “Hi! I just wanted to make sure you were alright!” They kinda step away from each other as good as they can since the room’s pretty small.

So like he nodded and she smiled back, “Oh, everything’s fine…just wanted his opinion on this dress…be out in a minute!” And I’m like, “OK!” and I shut the door.

Then I hear giggles and sucking noises and I’m like, OMG, they’re DOIN’ IT in there. Yuck. Then I hear her. She’s like, “Oh…my god…” muttering slowly and quietly between deep breaths, “Uhn that…feels g –” And then before long there’s this banging sound on the dressing room walls. I’m thinking maybe I should call security.

Finally they come out and try to leave the dress, but I insisted that they buy it since it was all wet from her and had spots that had to be pre-cum. I barely wanted to touch the thing. Then I ask then if they were interested in anything else and the guys like, “next time, join us.” And I’m thinking like, “No fucking way. You’re both way skanky.”

Signed...

He gets letters:

"That has to be the funniest story I've heard in a long time....you're awesome!!!"

"That you, big boy?"

"You are hilarious. I've been reading your posts daily. And in my book, a witty, hilarious guy is a hot guy :)"

Tired of the metrosexuals and new age milquetoasts?

Recurring character...

So I'm sitting here in the office having my lunch of Complete Creatine Effervescent Power mixed in Vodka as I pound out this missive on my keyboard. Me? I'm wearing my Carla Behrle leather pants. No shirt. A heavy gold chain with a medallion of a Buddha Vitarka Mudra flanked by a couple of Bodhisattvas is bouncing off my rock hard pecs as I type. I'll be posing and flexing for the ladies in the cubicles after my afternoon workout. Hopefully I’ll have time to slather on some Pro Tan Muscle Juice Pro Posing Oil beforehand. “The Juice” helps show off my true muscle definition without creating blind spots like baby oil does.

Why this ad? I can't leave the exploration of hot man on woman sensuality to the metrosexuals and New Age milquetoasts who frequent this message board. How could they possibly match the intensity of my love-making? Can you? You'll probably want to bring a Mr. Sharpie because you’ll want me to sign your breasts afterward.

Working out. Looking good. Superior punctuation and diction. That's what I'm about.



He gets letters:

"I have read a few of your posts. You are an absolute riot at best - and at a minimum a chuckle. Keep posting."

"Yeah....jesus. You crack me up. Keep on man."

"Thank GOD your lats are back and the Beherle pants! You are obviusly not Omari, but I confess I've missed your bannana hammock."

"My Dream" by Mr. Banana Hammock (not Omari)

More Omari. OMARI!!!!

My dream. This post isn't intended to talk about the "dream woman" that I might find surfing the internet or skulking in bars over a tall frosty Miller Lite. This post isn't intended to tell you that man and woman, black and white, conservative christian and sane, physicists and everybody else can somehow form some utopian society, live in giant geodesic domes like in "Logan's Run," and eat soylent green. Mostly because they killed people when they turned 30 in "Logan's Run," and that doesn't work out so well for me. Also, as we all now know, soylent green is made from people. PEOPLE!

Rather, I had this weird dream last night about carnivorous mutant toads. These regular sized mutant toads began eating humans and then became gigantic (like dinosaur sized) mutant toads but could hop great distances and crush things (and they still ate people). The humans that were bit by the toads but didn't die became rather large mutant human/toad creatures but spoke perfect english (UK english). They were by and large the main food source for these giant mutant carnivorous toads.

Anyway, I scurried around until I found this largely underground society that had escaped the toadapocalypse and founded this new utopian society. I say largely underground because some of the facilities were above ground. They were somehow safe from the giant mutant toads and their hopping because they planted these fields of flowers around the outside parts because they had figured out that the toads couldn't process the information or that the purple color of the flowers somehow acted as human camouflage or something.

Anyway, the leader of the underground communities daughter and I got together. Not sex or anything, but a sort of May/September romance blossomed. It was much like Tom and Katie. I was my age and she was like 18 or something. She kept saying, "Wait for me. Will you wait for me?" as we watched the sun set over a destroyed civilization, gigantic mutant carnivorous toads leaping across what was left of the sun as it fell below the horizon. Then I woke up.

Any Freudians out there?

36 year old stud ISO much younger woman for sex

18 year old stud indeed...

We probably don’t work for the same company, so it’s ok if we have sex. Me? Hot, 36 year old stud, always hard, always ready to give you endless hours of mind-blowing sex....anytime you want it, just how you like it. Man on top. Man not on top. Man from behind. Me twirling you around like a top while I’m on my back (if you’re short enough).

I'm interested in younger women only. You must have a sex drive to keep up with me.

“Ass Cleavage” by Mr. Banana Hammock (not Omari)

More OMARI!

Recently a good friend of mine sent me an article from the New York Observer on the latest craze to hit New York. Basically men are intentionally showing an inch or so of butt crack. Luckily the craze seems to be confined to the under-30 crowd. The author postulates that this is an evolution of metrosexuality and that these low-rise jeans speak to a male co-opting of a very particular form of female vanity: the idea that we need to suffer to look good.

But I’m thinking, they’re not suffering by exposing their butt crack, I am by being forced to look at it. And please don’t respond by saying that I don’t have to look at it and that I can look at something else like that braless and nippley girl a tight tank top over there. I know what I’d rather be looking at, but when presented with bare skin and a hairy man crack it’s almost impossible to notice anything else, or even look away. We’ve all been there I think. Some guy fixing an appliance. He’s all bent over on his knees. And then blammo: Man Crack. Try looking away. I dare you. It’s sort of like that impulse to look at a solar eclipse when you are told not to and if you do you will go blind.

I used to date this woman who I would do this thing to all the time. It was a nice sunny day, and I’d point and say, “Hey, look at the sun.” She fell for it every single time. I’m not sure if this was mean or not, but it certainly was funny. I’d always get socked in the arm after that. Perhaps I deserved it. I’m not sure. And her eyesight was pretty lousy when I met her to begin with, so I don’t think I caused her any permanent damage.

Another thing that apparently can cause blindness is masturbation. My mother always said that playing with myself will cause me to grow hair on my palms and it will cause me to go blind. My hands are no hairier than your average “man hands.” And my vision is nearly perfect. Just a slight astigmatism in one eye. And I never heard anyone say that masturbation would cause a slight astigmatism in one of my eyes. Or if they did I wasn’t paying attention. Hmmmm.

“Business suits” by Mr. Banana Hammock (not Omari)

Maybe I rely too much on Omari. But I do love his rambling posts dearly.

Although Washington, DC can be pretty buttoned down culturally, my current employer doesn’t require that I wear a business suit to work day to day. I do, from time to time, wear a business suit if I have a meeting up on the Hill or a meeting at my office, or I think maybe a business suit will impress some girl that I noticed on the 42 bus the day before and I am hoping to get noticed the next day. Now that the heat of summer is upon us, I tend to keep some clothes around the office and get them dry cleaned around the corner, and I’ll make my commute in shorts and a t-shirt. That way, I can come into work less sweaty and I save bunches on dry cleaning. Also, it lets other commuters note that I have pretty nice legs.

Speaking of legs, I was planning to prepare some musings on marriage while in the shower. I was washing, you guessed it, my legs. I work from top to bottom, but that might be the subject of another post. Yours truly has never been married. Most of the people I know are married or have been married at some point or another. At 36 it is probably not that odd, but I think it's sort of odd that I haven't been married at least once. My younger sister has been married. Three times. All to guys named Jason. JASON! Go figure. If anybody knows a Jason in need of a bride in Michigan, let me know. She's 33 and could stand to lose a few pounds and only has three kids, so not much to handle right?

Tom Cruise is going for marriage #3 I believe. And this to someone, what, 16 years his junior. Yum. Katie Holmes. I liked her in "Go" but never saw "Killing Mrs. Tingle." She got her start in acting in High School at Notre Dame Academy. It is an all-girls school located in Toledo, Ohio. Oddly enough, I'm from Ann Arbor, Michigan originally, about 45 minutes from Toledo. One of the Hammock clan, a lumberjack, was chased out of Michigan for "womanizing." I kid not. He settled in Toledo and that is where many of the Hammock clan now live. I even once dated a nice girl from Toledo when I was in High School. By nice I mean smokin' bod, very hot, and easy. We met at a club. We had fake ID's. And we slept in the back of my Toyota hatchback. It was cramped. And it sounds like a Meatloaf song, but all true.

Which I think brings me full circle. Today I had to wear a suit to work for a meeting. It was grey. White shirt. Yellow tie. These "punk rock" safety pin cufflinks. I was listening to "Bat Out of Hell" on my iPod. You know the album. And I'm sitting there, totally rocking out to "Two Out of Three Ain't Bad." And I'm in my suit. It's really hot out. And the bus? The air conditioning isn't on. What is up with that anyway?



He gets letters:

"I really enjoy your writings. I only wonder if you'll be married by the time I'm not. In any case, I hope you keep amusing me with your posts."

Normal, healthful guy, but not for everyone

Inspiration from Michigan Girl. This guy has one serious cock (or very short legs...

Hi. I'm an attractive, reasonably healthy and slightly mushy in the middle. Well educated, White, 6'0", 172lb. More than likely you'd like what you see.

However (and I'm not making this up), I'm over a foot long in the trouser department, and thick. I have trouble finding women who can deal with this. This isn't an ego thing. I just need a girlfriend who can handle my extra-long torso and my short and very meaty legs. My penis is average.

I'm looking for both a physical and non-physical relationship. Serious replies only. Your picture gets mine.

I'm on top

Here's to you fellas. You who repost the same message 20 times a day because you don't think women scroll down and read your posts.

I'm on top for now anyway. Then other posters will post and I will no longer be on top. That's why the ladies aren't responding. Then I will repost this message. That should take care of things.



He gets letters:

"Just have to say, you are a very funny guy. If I was at home looking at this with a beer in my hand, it would be even funnier. Just get a kick out of your postings."

“Passes and Glasses” by Mr. Banana Hammock (not Omari)

I just cannot get enough of Omari...

Do women make passes at guys that wear glasses? I know I make passes or at least flirt with women that wear glasses. Come to think of it, all of my serious girlfriends had been glasses girls. They also had previously dated men who either suffered from paranoid Schizophrenia, were check kiters, robbed banks or were Asian.

Glasses girls: they are hip, fun, like good music, epitomize glamour. If you want to know if someone's really cool - the best way to tell is if they wear their glasses out to a nightclub - then you know they're comfortable with themselves. They buck a system that says glasses aren't chic. They are expressing their individuality, they accept themselves for who they are, in all their glasses glory, and I find that very sexy.

I think I really started to fall for glasses girls after Lisa Loeb’s “Stay” video was released. Not so much that I liked the song, but I liked her look. Her glasses. Ms. Loeb is also an actress. She was in a movie I “on demanded” last weekend called “Serial Killing 101.” The story revolves around Casey Nolan, a high school senior who leads a bland, boring existence. Neither a nerd nor a popular jock he goes unnoticed by most, except for his teachers who are always on his case due to his lack of discipline. Casey becomes enamored with the dark things of life such as horror movies, goth music and especially serial killers. So much so, that Casey decides he wants to be a serial killer himself, figuring it will finally get him noticed and give him a chance to put his stamp on the world. He's not exactly sure where to start until he meets Sasha (Lisa Loeb), a goth girl in his class who cuts a deal with him: She will help him become a serial killer as long as he makes her his first victim. Casey accepts the deal but as time goes on he realizes that it's mighty hard to kill someone you're falling in love with. Her performance was rather good although a mid-thirties high school student is a pretty tough sell.

I don’t think I’d make a very good serial killer, however. It takes patience, good timing, and motivation. I have none of these skills. In fact, I was telling someone just the other day that I probably would’ve stalked her had not it been so hot out and had “From Justin to Kelly” not been on HBO at the time. So go figure.



He gets letters:

R&R Post, Raves: "not only is this guy funny but he is hot. very hot. yum."

Still Looking For That Special Woman

Him too...

Hi ladies,

I'm a funny, looking, brave, swashbuckling, single and a very sane white guy. I’m into telekinesis, chakra balancing, basic pirating, and panty sniffing. I'm 6'-o tall and about 172#. I have brown hair and brown eyes. I make a good friend and am a worthy adversary.

I've been single for a while and I am looking for the right woman to change my singlosity. I have met some lovely women, lonely women, ugly women, fat women, skinny women, tall women, short women, women with no sense of humor, way to young women for me (above 18 I guess which maybe isn’t way to young, but..) through CL and I am trying again since Miss "Let’s have sex in the alley behind the dumpster" wasn't among them. I hope to add a fun, easy woman to my group of friends.

Being totally single, as opposed to partially single, a romantic interest and a party/dinner friend would be nice. A fuck-buddy would be better. A girlfriend would be ideal. A wife? Let me think about that one.

I know that Miss Perfect doesn't exist but I believe that Miss "Let’s have sex in the alley behind the dumpster" does. I'm looking for the right woman to start a fun/best friend relationship.

Knowing that the luck of a lifetime is rare, I move slowly with regard to romance. I am dangerous though. And bad. Women like that right? I’m really bad.

I believe that good friends are where relationships begin. I am practicable and I know that luck doesn't just happen. This type of luck needs the combination of timing, geospatial locationing, voodoo chanting, and a willingness to try something new.

I have no physical preference as long as I am attracted. Thin to a little thinner than average, short to medium short. It doesn't really matter as long as you have nice boobies. I'm a sucker for boobies. Boobies are key. I like them blue footed, but red footed are ok too.

I am open to making new friendships and my heart is open to romance.

Boobies!



He gets letters:

" You are a jerk! I've met the poster and you seem like an Idiot. Make
up your own post and stop knocking others. Grow some guts!"

“Serving and Obeying Talk” by Mr. Banana Hammock (not Omari)

Omari has returned with his thoughts on sports. I respond with my thoughts on some guy who wants you to serve and obey him. Eek.

When it comes to keeping track of happenings in the curious world of craigslist, I am hopeless. I do take a passing interest in the business of these M4W ads--for example, I am not much of a dom type person, but find the professional man looking to explore synergies with a woman who wants to be tied up, exposed in public, and wear a collar somewhat erotic and I suppose there are women out there that might want to do such things. None that I know, but perhaps we don’t run in same circles.

That's not because I don't like to engage in erotic play from time to time. To the contrary: sometimes woman on top is one of my favorite positions. Pretty wild, huh? If you’re the right size I’d be happy to take you on my kitchen table or carry you around my apartment and let gravity take its course.. Maybe I’m a space explorer and you are a Vulcan, like a girl Spock, and need to unleash your emotions with my version of raw and animalistic man on woman sensuality. Who knows? Or even sit you in my lap and bounce you up and down like you’re riding a horse. Girls like horses.

My younger sister had a horse when she was little. It was called “Chicken George.” She really loved that horse. This was, of course, before she got married and had kids. She’s recently out of her third marriage. His name was Jason. In fact, all three shared the same first name: Jason. I was thankful in a sense because I didn’t have to learn a lot of new names. Just Jason I, Jason II, Jason III, etc. Kind of like the Friday the 13th film series, but slightly less gory.

What I did find somewhat gory about the “you will obey me” guy was the whole ass rape and deep throat gag thing. It doesn’t seem very respectful to your partner. And I think it is good to respect your partner’s boundaries. It’s healthy, normal, and good psychologically (at least for me anyway). I’ve also read somewhere that coitus is good lots of other things also. Regular male release is supposed to be good for the prostate gland. And who wants to end up with cancer? Not me. Additionally, it is also good for weight loss. At the healthy weight forum, I calculated that 90 minutes of vigorous sex at my body weight burns 186.84 calories. That is more than 2 Miller Lites and burns a few more calories than talking on the phone for the same amount of time.

I’m not much of a phone talker. I’m not sure I’ve even spent 90 minutes on the phone in one sitting, but I have cooked for that long before. Cooking for that amount of time burns about 111 calories, but it is not a zero sum enterprise. I like to cook with real butter and cream, but not in the summer. In the summer I like lighter fare.

Where does that leave us? I’m not sure. Is it lunch yet?



He gets letters:

"...I'm 15 years your junior and I amn't single. But, looking through postings on craigslist, I just couldn't resist telling you that you're made of excellent. Don't ask me why I a) look through postings on cg or 2) compliment strangers on whom I have no romantic designs. I just do."

Reflections on the female uterus by Mr. Banana Hammock (not Omari)

More fun with Omari...

Over email this morning some of my friends and I were contemplating the nuanced differences between desire and passion. That perhaps desire is about craving, possessing something, or maybe just borrowing it for personal use. That it is about expectations. And passion is perhaps about celebrating something, using your senses to really relish and experience it. It can be about an idea, a person, a place, or something of that nature. I wasn’t really into the conversation. Being somewhat familiar with female anatomy, this morning I was rather thinking deeply about the female uterus.

The cradle of life, the female uterus is prone so several diseases, including Endometrial Polyps, Endometriosis, Fibroid Tumors, Uterine Prolapse, and Chronic Pelvic Pain. Chronic Pelvic Pain intrigues me. Some think that it can be cured by doing your kegel exercises on a regular basis. The causes can be varied. I happened to google kegel and found that there is something on the market that claims that there has NEVER been anything to make doing kegels truly effective like the patented, 510(k) FDA medically cleared Kegelmaster™. It apparently has 15 levels of adjustable resistance. It comes in lavendar. I don’t know if it comes in different colors. The website claims that the Kegelmaster™ was inspired by companies such as Nautilus™, utilizes the state-of-the-art exercise principles of progressive resistance to tone, strengthen, and bulk-up this hidden but vital muscle. I used to use Nautilus™ machines in high school and my generalist said that I had the best set of stomach muscles she’d ever seen on a 16 year old kid. That admission on her part kind of creeped me out, perhaps in the same way a gynecologist, if I had one, would creep me out if he was complimenting me on the strength of my kegels.

Another thing had occurred to me as well. I have often heard that some women say that babies or pictures of babies make their uterus ache. A blogger named Scarlett, located in Bahrain says that talk of babies, pictures of babies, and babies makes her uterus ache. And curiously enough, the same had also been said about Pearly Sweets of Baby Teeth who happen to at least at some point shared recording labels with DC’s own Ted Leo. The Chicago Reader wrote that “Pearly [Sweet's] croons, snarls and drawls with a sleazy quiver that's so foxy it makes my uterus ache.” I trust that this was written by a woman.

My point being this...um, er...I forget. Any help?



He gets letters:

"We should meet for drinks right away and discuss these reflections."

Everything I do is going to be mad crunk, aiight?

Everything he does is going to be funky. Everything I do is going to be mad crunk, aiight?

Professional American mutt, 36. Well, I’m so adorable that small woodland creatures alight on my outstretched arms as I sing on nature walks. They might be biased, however, as I slather my arms with peanut butter and bird seed before setting out. So, you be the judge. I love dark smoky bars, road trips, greasy diners, surfing the internet for pornography and codependent women. Can be bad but it's always good. Sending a picture would be appreciated, since you already have mine. Live for today. Proprio quello che ha ordinato il medico.



He gets letters:

"You ad is hilarious (in a good way of course)! good luck in your search, you are cute so you should not have any problems."

"You rock. Thank you for the smile. :)"

"HAHA. I just had to say that your ad and pic put a smile on my face."

Sleeping in the wet spot by Mr. Banana Hammock (not Omari)

Yay. Channeling Omari yet again...

So thankfully the air conditioning is back on in my Adams Morgan compound and sleeping was much easier than the night before, although for some reason I couldn’t get the DVD player to work in my bedroom. I was going to watch Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope. I bought the box set off Amazon a couple of weeks ago and to my surprise there were not one, but two, copies of Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope in the little plastic thingy that DVDs snap nicely into. So basically I could have the movie playing nearly simultaneously in both my bedroom and in my living room. I say nearly because I would have to run to each room to turn the machine on and there would be a slight lag of a couple of seconds.

Anyway, I woke up in the middle of the night and took a long drink from a glass of water that I had on the night stand. While I was holding the glass of water I fell asleep again dropping the nearly full glass of water all over me and my bed. I instantly woke up again, toweled off as I was sleeping nude, and tried to fall back asleep. But it was hard. There was no escaping the wet spot. I began to muse on Omari’s musing about water and that ultimately, we all came from water and we all are water. And that while water may carry the current of life, it isn’t a whole lot of fun trying to fall asleep on a water soaked bed.

My thoughts began to turn to Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope. Tatooine was largely a waterless planet. Luke’s aunt and uncle were moisture farmers. And here I was trying to go back to sleep on what might be a gold-mine for them. I was vexed by the wet spot but I could not escape the irony.

SAF + SWM + various computer parts = EVIL HYBRID CYBORG

It could be "lots of fun," no?

I’m 6’0, short brown hair, not exactly fat, not exactly skinny. Greedy, ever so slightly evil, histrionic all describe me, and I’d also say I like to keep things dark and mysterious in a, well, dark and mysterious way. I’m not malicious, at least until the situation calls for maliciousness. I’m looking for an independent woman who appreciates being taken care of, rather than relying on it. For fun I like to drink vodka, create human-animal hybrids and cyborgs, brood, write emo songs, and frolic in meadows. Write back if you like what see!

Why no B-Day Sex was OK by me by Mr. Banana Hammock (not Omari)

More along the lines of my favorite muse, Omari...

Birthday sex. My white whale. I have been in several long term relationships, dated short term, dated casually, and have never had birthday sex. I’ve heard tell of it happening, but it hasn’t happened for me. I’ve given birthday sex, but never received birthday sex. Apparently I’ve stumbled into some sort of “it’s that time of the month” conspiracy whereby the female population of wherever I happen to be at any given moment are synchronizing their biological clocks. I’ve largely accepted this as fact and am more or less resigned to a life without birthday sex. Generally speaking, I wouldn’t turn birthday sex down, although I would probably be suspicious somebody was playing a practical joke on me.

However, last night, I was rather grateful that there was no birthday sex on the horizon for me. I was having a rather fun, albeit beer-soaked, evening in my favorite happy hour watering hole, Angles, with friends. I even briefly met a nice glasses girl and lied about my age. It was a small lie, I’m sure I cannot pass for 24. Even with a bag over my head. But I did smile and wave as she walked down the street (and I think she waved back). Or I had too much to drink and imagined the whole thing. But that is ok, it was my birthday. And since I figured I wasn’t going to be performing, it didn’t matter. And lucky I was.

The air conditioning in my building has given out so no central air. I had been running the air in my apartment with the windows closed out of respect for our scant natural resources. It was at least 100 degrees in the bedroom. And though I had one of those giant bottles of Gatorade Frost, I’m pretty sure last night was not a good night for birthday sex. Perhaps it was because of the combination of heat and humidity and lack of air conditioning. Or, although because, ultimately, we all came from water and we all are water, it’s not always pleasant sharing your water with a total stranger. Does anyone care? I’ll gladly accept rain-checks.



He gets letters:

"I'm a guy and i'd love to be your friend. I'd also love to discreetly suck your cock and lick your balls whenever you need it."

Flag Day musings by Mr. Banana Hammock (not Omari)

God I love Omari...

As some may note, I am not Adams Morgan – 35, but Adams Morgan -36. The reason? It is my birthday. Yes, Mr. Banana Hammock ages, but much more slowly than normal guys. And yes he will be celebrating at his favorite Adams Morgan watering hole later today. But this day is also shared by another holiday: Flag Day.

Flag Day, is a day for all Americans to celebrate and show respect for our flag, it's designers and makers. Our flag is representative of our independence and our unity as a nation.....one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all. Our flag has a proud and glorious history. It was at the lead of every battle fought by Americans. Many people have died protecting it. It even stands proudly on the surface of the moon, in the green zone in Iraq, on bases in Afghanistan, Germany, Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, Japan, Guam, Italy, Iceland, Spain, Turkey, Bosnia-Herzegovina, Korea, Hungary, Great Britian, etc.
As Americans, we have every right to be proud of our culture, our nation, and our flag. So great is our culture that most of the world and even the moon people appreciate our presence on their soil. So raise the flag today and every day with pride!

And did you know that if you like to study flags, then you are a Vexillologist! I didn’t until I googled it. Before that I would’ve probably called you a big loser. Now I can call you a vexillologist (although big loser is probably much easier for me to pronounce).

If you have any flag day related, or other, questions, please feel free to write.

Sticking to my pleather couch by Mr. Banana Hammock (not Omari)

Omari....

What is it about the summer and my skin sticking to my pleather couch?

Sunday I was laying on my pleather couch. First I watched an “on demand” film, The Rachel Papers. I thoroughly enjoyed Martin Amis’ novel of the same name. Ione Skye had a couple of topless scenes. I liked seeing Ione Skye topless. But it was only fleeting.

Then I thought I’d watch “Foxfire.” It was based on a novel by Joyce Carol Oates. It is the story of five teenage girls who form an unlikely bond after beating up a teacher who has sexually harassed them. There is an extended nude scene where Angelina Jolie tattoos herself, Hedy Burress, and Jenny Shimizu. Unfortunately, Jenny Lewis, who currently fronts the band Rilo Kiley, didn’t take her top off. Rilo Kiley is on the Saddle Creek label, home to emo savior Conor Oberst’s Bright Eyes.

That wasn’t enough nudity for me so I thought I’d get up off the couch. It was hot, into the 90s, and humid and I had been sweating. My skin had become somewhat affixed to my pleather couch. As I sat up there was this ripping sound as my skin slowly became unstuck from the couch. I headed for the fridge for a Dole Fruit 'n Juice Frozen Fruit Bar.

But why does my skin stick to my pleather couch in the summer but not in the winter? Perhaps it is because of the heat. But my apartment is heated in the winter. Perhaps it is because of the humidity. But it can also be humid in the winter, although generally it is drier. Perhaps it is because of the combination of heat and humidity. Or, because, ultimately, we all came from water and we all are water. Maybe it is because water carries the current of life. And pleather with water and heat and humidity make me stick to it. Does anyone care? I’m not sure I do.



He gets letters:

"You are my absolute FAVORITE! Well done!"

"...too funny yet again. Good job!"

Do ladies like players???

Do they?

I'm not talking about the guy in the cheezy shirt who talks to every woman and goes home alone. I mean the good looking, athletic guy who has class and talent and is not gross or rude and knows how to dress well. Any ladies out there who would like to strike up a conversation? I am a single white male - attractive - d&d free - confident. Snappy dresser. Point and wink while sending you a appletini...

18 1/2 orgasms in a weekend?

I had the pleasure of making my myself cum 18 times this weekend...I was at home thumbing through my Playboy that came in the mail (I came soon after), then I went surfing for porn, then I was hanging out in that park up by Kalorama and Columbia Road (just thinking about all those sunbathing girls), once on metro, once while watching the remake of “Dawn of the Dead” (I really cannot explain that one), once while in the theater at The Adventures of Sharkboy and Lavagirl in 3-D, oh baby Lavagirl…and then a bunch of other times...I had a blast ....pretty good for a weekend? any similar experiences? is there something wrong with me? ;) would love to hear some comments.



~flagged and removed by the craigslist community~

Any cute fun girl out there in internets?;)

Serial poster, serial responder...

Am fresh meat in town looking for ur. ur a real cute slim fun easy going 18-30 grl for fun or more..Im from Michigan originally, so im cool down to earth no games, nasally michigan accent etc..im an policy guy and do telekenesis for fun;) so send me urpic and lets go out dance the electric slide or go to a Foam Party or something-you betcha-send ur pic for a reply.

Under-worked intellectually challenged emotional cripple

Ispiration comes from the strangest places...

I am a very different mix so I will lay it out here as honestly and completely as I can. I live a life bouncing back and forth from my Adams Morgan apartment and my office downtown. I spend most of my time in my apartment so I thought I might try this. What you will find in me is an under-worked intellectually challenged emotional cripple and socially retarded. I would love to find someone. Anyone. Female. I know that you are out there, I just hope you are reading Craigslist in DC.

I am a lot of fun, can talk for hours about almost anything except celebrities, most sports, art, literature, your friends, my friends (I don’t have any), religion, science, films, current events, etc. What went on in therapy this week is always a favorite topic of mine.

I am 35 years old but look and act younger. Younger like the Home Alone kid. Star Wars fans a big plus. Please no Wookies.



He gets letters:

"...thank you for being so damned entertaining!!...Can you please spoof that guy who posts almost everyday with "Looking for my new best friend" or "Looking for a lucky lady" 45...he really needs some new material!! We're counting on you!!"

Summer combo beach fling a-go-go

Summer beach companion, summer fling. Why not both?

Howza. I'm looking for someone that would like to go to the beach and looks good in a bikini. I thought I'd be in thong-shape by the time summer rolled around, but sadly no. I'll probably go naked instead.

I'd really like to have a good fling, summer style. I don't mean a one night stand type fling, or an NSA, sex only type of fling. Just one that begins on June 21st and ends approximately September 5th. That kind of fling. And what better time than now? And there's no saying it couldn't end up being more than a fling, I just don't want to feel rushed, commitment issues and all...

A bit about me. 35, I'm in pretty good shape, especially if 'donut' is considered a good shape. Many women would find me to be highly erotic. I am gainfully employed, college educated, street-wise, left of center, enjoy napping, and have virtually no strong opinions on most topics.

If you like the beach, and look good in a bikini, send me a message!

Young Nonprofit Drone Lives in DC

Visitors? Well, they suck.

35 y.o., young nonprofit drone living in DC and does his droning in DC as well. Would like to meet someone who could accurately be described as one or more of the following: happy - fun - sexy - smart.
i'm 6'0", 171 lbs, brn brn, nice normal friendly fun and attractive.

It is sooooo hard getting to work by myself

Biter? Ouch? I cannot tell...


It was hot as hell this morning. Anyway, after a cold shower I’m air drying in the kitchen of my Adams Morgan compound. CNN is blaring in the background and I am eating a breakfast specially designed for my nutritional and bodybuilding needs: Golfina huevos rancheros (the eggs I had flown in from their nesting grounds on Playa Escobilla this spring), Koala sausages, and breakfast wine from Spain. Dry, I slip into my Carla Behrle leather pants. No shirt. Black frame Jean LaFont glasses to better stalk my prey. I head for the red line from Woodley Park to Judiciary Square.

Metro is packed this morning so I give the train a Front Double Biceps, Back Lat Spread, Front Abdominal-Thigh Isolation on the platform before boarding. There are too many gorgeous DC women to give them all individualized attention. I flex wink point with a trigger finger to all of them. Many blush and someone with small hands is squeezing as best she can my rock hard glutes. My head bobbing to the sound of music only I can hear. A classy blonde asks me to bend a piece of iron rebar she brought along with her this morning into an origami animal shape. Using my glutes. “Swan,” she says. I say, “Swan is too easy. How about ‘leaping stag?’” She swoons when I deliver the goods.

Before heading up to the office, I hit the gym. I change into my tangerine banana hammock, apply some bikini bite, and get started. Preacher Reverse Curl, Seated Concentration Curl, Crossover Chest Fly, Pullover Crunch. Done, I hit the shower. I air dry. My body glistens as I practice my posedowns in the mirror -- total fitness and power, ripped definition, stamina, intensity, mental focus, dignity.

Me you ask? Air drying. Eating endangered species. Bending iron rebar into origami swan shapes with my ass. Playing Frisbee with other people. That is what I am about. And if you can handle my superior version of man on woman sensuality, drop me a line.

He gets letters:

"i'm wondering, adams morgan funnyman, if you ever actually go out with anyone you meet on here. or are you just making us laugh out of the goodness of your heart?"

Playing with myself is soooo hard alone.....

So too is playing frisbee I suppose.

Oh wait. No it's not. But I also get funny looks from the tourists in their matching FBI hats and t-shirts. Maybe I should take my shit inside. Thoughts?

He gets letters:

"To the biter of the frisbee ad. Real original buddy! You would figure at 35 you would have the experience and knowledge to think of something on your own. Guess not...oh well. Yes, this is the original poster."

Am I missing something?

Yes. You are missing something. A few marbles.

But WHEN did the beginning-of-June turn into Crazy girl days? Did I miss the memo here or something? Let me explain and you'll see what I mean...

So Girl #1 and I went out a couple of times last week. All seemed to be going extremely well and I could tell that she liked me. I liked her too. Third date. We’re at this nice French restaurant. I turn my left pants pocket inside out. My penis is hanging out of the fly. I say, “Hey, ever seen a one-eared elephant?” And she’s like, “put that thing away.” I never hear from her again. Since I don’t have time for this crap, she’s out. Moving on...

Girl #2 and I had a lunch date yesterday. Yesterday's date went well, no awkwardness at all and all went well. She mentioned to me that over the holidays she went on a bike ride with her friends, one of which I knew. So last night she showed up to a mutual friend's party and was basically hanging out with this one guy. No bid deal right? Wrong. I found out through another friend of mine that the dude she was hanging on was her ex. Also, this was the same guy she went on a bike ride with this weekend. Double whammy. I turn my left pants pocket inside out. My penis is hanging out of the fly. I say, “Hey, ever seen a one-eared elephant?” She gives me this cold stare. Naturally, I'm perplexed as all went well and I’ve been planning our wedding all afternoon. What we’re going to call our kids. How many kids we’re going to have, etc. I think it is mean to cheat on your potential spouse....

So am I missing something here? Do I have my blinders on or something? Are there really, honestly any ladies out there that aren't crazy? Is it the time of year or something? Are people offended by one-eared elephants? I mean I know I'm a pretty easy-going, fun, attractive guy but this shit is too much.



He gets letters:

"Oh my god....Your post was too funny! Let me explain, my girlfriend turned me onto "Craig's List" because she knows that I am addicted to laughter and she knew I would get a big kick out of what men and women post. She was right I am addicted! I never respond to the ads but today I made an exception for I simply loved yours. Thank you for allowing a burst of sunshine into this drab rainy Friday afternoon! Again I have to state your post was hilarious!"

"you're building a great portfolio. i'm starting to see it now."

"For the past few weeks, I look forward to procrastinating with a quick glance at the men seeking women’s, often in hopes of seeing who you ridicule and mock. You always pick the good ones and for that I commend your fine taste. Today’s satire was the best so far. Congratulations. I am still laughing. Luckily, I managed to swallow the coffee I was so innocently sipping on when I came across the one-eared elephant line."

Ladies want to attend an ON-premise lifestyles party this Saturday

Mine is on-premise, his is Off...

I am seeking single women to come over to My House (MH) with me. MH will feature an on-premise "lifestyle" party for me and, well, single ladies this Saturday night.

I have never done this before but I suspect I will enjoy myself. If I really really enjoy myself, I might want to do this on a more regular basis.

Since other men aren’t allowed to attend MH for any reason whatsoever, I am seeking females to attend MH with me. Because MH is an on-premise party, you might loads of wild stuff, like me wearing girls underwear with a lampshade on my head, dancing around like a nut. Maybe a game of spin the bottle on the living room floor. I might even be playing my Xbox at some point. I'll even do the "have you ever seen a one-eared elephant" joke. Truly wild stuff.

As for me, I am single professional male, 6’, 172 lbs. If you wish, we can meet for drinks beforehand during the week for "pre-screening" purposes. If there is mutual attraction, even better.

If it makes you feel more comfortable, perhaps we can meet for a drink with the other women who answered this ad so that it feels less like a date.



He gets letters:

"YOU are so much fun."

Can you handle my superior display of masculine prowess?

I will make you serve and obey, but I think my approach is much better...

Chilly morning. At least chillier than it has been. I’m in my Carla Behrle leather pants. No shirt. Not in the mood to walk to Cleveland Park, I hop on the 42 bus. Quarry and Columbia to Dupont Circle. I hop the red line in the direction of Glenmont. I must say, I was quite impressed by the talent. Maybe as impressed as the lovelies were of me -- muscle mass, density, ripped definition, intensity, stamina, endurance, mental focus, dignity, flair, humility. A blonde-haired beauty with dark, smoldering eyes cooed as I went through my routine for her. Front Double Biceps, Front Lat Spread, Side Chest, Back Double Biceps, and signature Back Lat Spread. I finished it off with a bicep flex, point and wink. Not used my superior display of masculine prowess, she drops like a stone. I revive her with a whiff of my pheromones and she stumbles off near Farragut West, probably still fantasizing about me and my raw and powerful version of man on woman sensuality. I hope she knew where she was going.

Me? I know where I am going. I’m on my way to the multinational conglomerate that I help run. Largely I think my employment is the result of their interest in exploiting my image and style, although I don’t think that I am fairly compensated. I decide first to hit the gym before answering my fan mail. Instead of my usual weight routine this morning I will hone my craft: the ancient and deadly art of Shohei-Ryu-Bollywood Karate. I put on my kashmiri styled silk kurta-lehenga and enter the Shohei-Ryu-Bollywood Karate dojo on 2P of my building. I practice Snake-creeps-down-and performs-the-dance-of-the-Shakti and Golden-cock-stands-on-one-leg-Dhandia on the China Red Freestanding Wing Chun Dummy as I sing Tere Bina Zindagi Se:

Tere Bina Zindagi Se Koi, Shikva, To Nahin,
Shikva Nahin
Shikva Nahin, Shikva Nahin
Tere Bina Zindagi Bhi Lekin, Zindagi, To Nahin, Zindagi Nahin Zindagi Nahin,
Zindagi Nahin

Kash Aisa Ho Tere Kadamon Se, Chun Ke Manzil Chale
Aur Kahin Dur Kahin
Tum Gar Saath Ho, Manzilon Ki Kami To Nahin
Tere Bina Zindagi Se Koi, Shikva, To Nahin, Shikva Nahin

I don’t know what the words mean, but the sound will truly frighten any opponent.

Me you ask? Taking advantage of all forms of public transportations, electric and gas powered. Superior posing. Potent pheromones. Martial arts. That is what I am about. And if you think you can handle my superior display of masculine prowess, please look me up. Your pic gets mine.

~deleted by craigslist staff~

Two Moon Junction........

What the @#$@!?

I recently saw this movie, and was moved by it. It was directed by Zalman King famous for his Red Shoe Diaries. It is about real life. It is about a young Southern debutante who temporarily abandons her posh lifestyle and upcoming, semi-arranged, marriage to have a lustful and erotic fling with a rugged drifter whom works at a local carnival. It's really deep. So if you have seen it, please, write to me. And let me know what you thought of it.

Single and athletic and sassy II: Electric Boogaloo

Single athletic and sassy?

Single good looking elliptical trainer-athlete about to give up....Ok so my sister is always making up stories about having heart-attacks for attention and her problems with her ex-husbands (three different guys named Jason) and how she knows people who can assassinate my mother’s dog…she’s basically nuts. Then I read this other guys post about HIS sister and how she always talks about how the DC area is full of great catches for her single brother. So I figure it must be working for him since he posts every single day, so I decide to give it a try:

I also know, as he claims, that everyone here claims to be strikingly gorgeous ....but write something interesting and get my attention and send a pic....save me from CL.

So maybe you were a college athlete, or even better a college grad, and now are in the corporate world…or work non-profits…or just work (not a lot of gold to dig here ladies)... looking for that single semi-successful elliptical trainer-athlete to challenge you..look no further!

Ok so there must be more than a few DC girls that fit that description....so where are you?

I want you for stimulation... Crotch-wise - Helpless Cad here!

Helpless (?) Romantic...

I want somebody I can connect with and have deep conversations with, like how many tater tots it would take to fill in Lake Michigan and whether or not the new Bennifer is better than the old Bennifer. I would love to get to know you, maybe even get together in person rather than on these internet, go get a bucket of KFC and hang out in some park.

I've been looking for a great girl with an enlarged heart. This type of girl is so hard to find these days. I have found many of the wrong girls, I can tell you. Going to the bar/club and getting hit on by drunk girls or girls that just want to get in your pants honestly never gets old but it may if ever happened to me all the time. I am sure you feel the same way. I want something a little more substantial. You may be reading this and thinking is this guy crazy? He wouldn’t take advantage of a drunk girl or a girl trying to get him in bed? You’d be wrong because I never actually said that. I guess I'm different than other guys.

What you get: Im 35 y/o, 6'0 foot good lucking, dark brown hair, bryn eyes. Most would describe me as well put together. I try to keep fit and try to look good. I am affectionate and not afraid to show it. I’ll show you my affection in a bathroom at a bar, in an alley behind a dumpster, in Rock Creek Park, wherever. Thanks for reading my post.