A few weeks ago, I woke up next to a bird named Alison who said to me "Jary, you know we only met 6 hours ago?". My response to her was "it could be worse, it could have been 5 hours ago". After I had finished laughing at my own joke, I ended up with one of Alison's tits in my mouth and the other on my nuts. Her tits were so massive that this was achieved with relative ease.
Alison was just one of the many birds I've met via online dating; a tool for hooking up with women which a lot of men seem to have problems with. Luckily, I'm here to educate you losers on how to attract the best pieces of skirt available. I'll be telling you which ones are the single mothers only looking for "this week's dad", the boring women who think that their job as an auditor is a substitute for having no personality, and the big tittied slags who can wrap their tits around your head and your balls at the same time.
You’re right. They are massive. And yes you can. You can tell everything. From an online dating profile, you have the following things to base your predictions on:
• Written bios
• Drop down forms
Together, these three things combine to form a Triforce of endless knowledge about any bird you want, and I don’t mean a gay Zelda Triforce for virgins. I mean a Jary Triforce for the actual people who have used their dick for more than pissing. Let me explain how:
When I was 5, my dad told me "Jary, never be a virgin". I ignored his advice for a number of years and didn't lose my virginity until I was 12. The woman I lost it to was a teacher who was one of the most boring people I've ever met, and I was only 12 so I didn't really understand most of the words she was saying, probably because I wasn't listening. But this teacher woman taught me a valuable lesson about birds:
Listen to the shit they talk about and pretend to be interested just enough so that it comes across as slightly detached but still like you’re paying attention to the important bits.
That might be a long quote for your losers to put on a motivational quote with a sunset background but fuck you and your moms. If advice can be condensed to a few words, then it’s not good advice. Anyway, I got talking to this girl called Stephanie whose biography on her online dating profile was a diatribe of shit no one cares about. She had one picture on there and it was a selfie of her looking moody, which basically means she was ugly, boring and has no tits.
I met up with her because she was hardcore into video games and I needed to borrow a PS4 controller. When I met her, all of my suspicions were confirmed. She was dull as fuck and spent the entire afternoon talking about her work. I don’t mind if a woman talks about work if she’s a stripper or a prostitute or unemployed (so she has nothing to say), but when her job is so boring that it made me think about putting cocktail sticks down my japs eye I knew I had to make my exit.
But shit! The PS4 controller! I couldn’t leave yet. I needed to play FIFA that evening with my mate Frank. I pretended to be interested long enough to get back to her place for what she assumed would be an afternoon shag. After listening to her talk about admin work for about 12 hours, I finally managed to get her back to her house.
“Nice PS4. Got a spare controller?”
She strongly implied that I would need to shag her to get the controller, but you don’t become a sex connoisseur like me without rejecting a few ugly birds along the way.
“Sorry bab, I’ve got chlamydia. Did I not say? I have to wear a rubber at all times to catch the leaky shit which comes out of my cock. I was too embarrassed to say earlier and I wouldn’t want to infect you with an incurable disease which would probably make you infertile.”
Moral of the story: sometimes I don’t shag. Sometimes I just like to beat Frank King at FIFA.