Lots of guys come up to me all the time and ask me the same question:

“You’re really fucking skinny”

Which is fine. I am skinny. And yes, bitches love it, but you know what? That’s not all it is. There’s an art to picking up the bitches. I like to call it Bitch Art. And many people (me) agree that I’m the fuckin Picasso of Bitch Art. Over the years I’ve broken  my process down into these simple steps:

Step One — make sure she’s alive

This is actually one of the most common mistakes guys make when approaching their lady; you cool walk right over to that vag only to find out it’s a dead vag. You don’t want dead vag, dude. Trust me, I learned the hard way. Literally. Like one time I brought this dead bitch back to the house and by the time the panties dropped she was more stiff then me, if you know what I’m saying (boner). Couldn’t even move her arms around for a handjob. Rigor mortis is not hot. Yes, sometimes it’s hot but no, usually it’s not that hot.

Step Two — don’t kill her if she’s alive

This is another big one. After you’re done doing the deed, she’s gonna wanna talk about either her pet or what it would be like to be married to a rich guy or Beyonce’s baby or something. It’s gonna make you wanna reach for that glock. Don’t do it. A lot of people (nobody) have asked me if it’s legal to shoot a girl in the head if she’s talking about her pets, and the answer is yes it’s legal but it’s such a huge mess after and you don’t want to deal with that.

Step Three — make sure her name isn’t Rochelle

This should go without saying. I don’t even know why they don’t teach this in grade school, but for fucks sake don’t ever sleep with Rochelle. You’re gonna think she’s real sexy because of the way she dances but once you get that girl in the bedroom she’s gonna start bawling her fucking eyes out. You’re not gonna know why and when you ask her she’s gonna tell you she doesn’t know either. Way too much baggage. 

Step Four — get her wasted

No sober girl will ever fuck you. Let’s just get that out in the open, brother. Every real Bitch Artist knows that the secret to having any alive girl you want is shots. A wise man once said, “Shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, EVERYBODY” these are words to live by. Rule of thumb: if she ain’t fucked up, you won’t get fucked! Simple as that. It’s the hard truth. You probably never realized it but your mom has been straight blacked out drunk the entire time she’s been married to your dad. It’s just how it works. I’m sure every animal has some form of Malibu or something to get their furry chick feelin right. It’s called nature.

Step Five — tell her nice shit

So you’ve got this living, breathing, completely inebriated fine ass staring back at you with that beautiful eye (if she isn’t closing one eye to look at you, you’re doing it wrong.) You think you’re home free, right? Wrong. The fact of the matter is, even the sloppiest lady needs a little convincing. So tell her nice shit. Some examples you can steal from me:

“I love you”

“Your skin is so beautiful, I’m surprised there isn’t a coat made out of it”

“I’m in love with you.”

“I can get lost in that eye.”

Throw any one of those at her and she’ll be Niagra Falls in no time. Guaranteed.

So that’s it, fellas. If you have problems after following those steps then frankly I’d check my pants for a dick, because this is fool-proof. Also tell them your name is Ace. Girls can’t get enough of guys named Ace.

Look, anybody who knows me will tell you I’m a McDonald’s guy. Always have been. 20 piece McNuggets all day. McChicken sandwiches all day. Any shit with Mc in front of it, I’m gonna eat it. I love McShit, plain and simple. And for a while I thought Mickey D’s was all I would ever need.

How wrong I was.

The other night I pulled up to the McDonald’s drive-thru like I did for breakfast, lunch and dinner earlier that day. It was around 2 am but its a 24-hour drive-thru so I wasn’t worried. Someone would be there to ask me what I wanted in an exhausted voice. So I waited.

And waited.

Nobody ever came. Granted, I only waited like 45 seconds but fuck it, nobody should take more than 45 seconds to speak. They have that microphone attached to their head, you can’t be late for that. So I drove across the street to motherfucking BK.

Pulled up the menu and immediately spotted these big, beautiful pictures of char-broiled bacon cheddar burgers called “BK Toppers” for fucking TWO DOLLARS. Had to have them. In a mere nine seconds, the nice drive thru lady greeted me and I ordered six toppers. I may have even ordered seven of them, I really don’t know because when I got them I just shoved them all down my throat, wrappers included. My first bite? All the shit inside my bowels spewed out of me. That’s how good it was. There’s such a huge difference between McDonald’s burgers and Burger King’s burgers. What I mean is this: Burger King makes actual burgers. With a burger in it. McDonalds makes a grilled cheese sandwich with a sliver of adobo. Adobo is that shit the Aztecs used to make their clay houses. That’s what’s in McDonald’s burgers. Straight adobo. Disgusting.

Anyway, everything else Burger King makes is still inferior to McDonald’s so my suggestion is, go get your fries and chicken at Mickey’s and your burgers at BK every time.

That might sound good at first thought. Obviously easy is good, right? Easy means people can conceptualize and create on a fraction of a fraction of the money it would have cost a long time ago. 

But that means that more and more people can “conceptualize” and “create” on a fraction of the talent it would have cost a long time ago as well. Nowadays, any old mother fucker who gets a DSLR for their bar mitzvah can shoot really, really shitty videos. They think, “oh, this camera makes the background all blurry so fuck it, I’m a director right? This is how it works in the movies business! Let’s go to the woods and record branches and shit!” 

It used to be that you had to have a real drive and passion for the medium before you had the means and the chance to truly make something out of it. Now all it takes is 500 bucks.

if weed was ever legalized, it would start getting mass-produced and sold that way; so you’d be able to just walk into the gas station and be like “yeah let me get a pack of marlboro greens” but WAIT

when you go to McDonald’s and get a burger, it’s fine, but it’s a shitty burger, right? Like it’s pretty grimey. But when you buy the ground beef and take the time to season and grill your own burger from scratch, it’s fuckin bomb as hell right?

mass produced weed = really shitty weed for everyone.

your pot guy has good pot because he got it from his pot guy who got it from a lonely, dirty, dread-locked man who spent hours in his cellar breeding the fuck out of his marijuana plants. Just botanizing it until it’s a thing of beauty. He wants to make the best possible plant for the best possible result… for the love of the game.

That’s mad inspirational but the point is, all these bitches with gloves and hairnets on an assembly line packaging your shwaggy shit won’t care about you. No more calling Craig up like “yo are you good for a dub” and picking up his new shipment of Afghani Mindfuck Sodomy Kush, now you can just go to get gas, and run in and get your weekly pack of brick. Your expensive weekly pack of brick.

Also since weed is legal now you have no more little private smoke-spots all over your city because you don’t need them now. You can just walk down the street sparking a blunt while you pet that guy’s dog. That’s not fun. Shut up.

and this guy wanted to pay for his food with his credit card, so I’m like “yeah what’s the number of the card” and he goes “hold on let me just grab it out of my wallet real quick” and then he starts making these obnoxious grunting sounds and heavy breathing and shit into my fucking ear like he’s lifting a god damn vehicle so I can hear that he’s apparently grabbing the absolute SHIT out of his card. I know you’re trying to get your card, you don’t have to put on a show to convince me you’re working hard on your end. I trust you, it’s all good. Get your card, I have time. No rush. You don’t have to pretend to get fuckin winded from reaching for your pocket just to make this even. The money is all I need from you.