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{i am the biggest dick in the universe} jack wilder After learning that a couple I know actually met through a personal ad, I woke up on Valentine’s Day morning, decided to take a look at the ads - and then it came to me, slowly: My personal ad. So, I created it. And ran it. The only response I received? From a Princeton graduate, current Ph.D. student that described herself as: insane, irresponsible optimist, impulsive, articulate. She said, “I am three standard deviations above the mean by most measures, including baggage and general fuck-up-ed-ness.” This couldn’t have gone any better. Here’s the ad: ...so, the initial title of my post was to be: I HAVE the Biggest Dick in the World. Somehow, strangely, I mistakenly input AM for HAVE. And so, when I went to post my desperate plea to the world for some good lovin' on this day of Saint Valentine, I found that it was oddly appropriate. And more than that, I’m the kind of dude that knows: Chicks love Bad Boys. And I, dear reader, am ba-ad. I will strangle you and slap you upside the head with my awesome lexicographic badness. Really, you’d love to meet me. Because really, once you get around the fact that I have a massive rooster and like to talk in dysphemisms to emphasize my awesome bad self, you should easily locate the fact that: I AM the Biggest Dick in the World. Trust me: You’d love to meet me. I am such a Dick/Johnson (both are my birth names, but I won't tell you which is my surname – if you even know what that means) that: I will probably tell you things like: You can't split an infinitive. Or, stranding prepositions is okay. But after that encouraging pat on the back, my true cockiness will become erect in some foul-lick state and I will say: An ellipsis consists of no more than 3 (read: three) periods. Idiot. Caveat Emptor: I. Am. Bad. (I am so bad, I actually wear all white – like J.C. or Colonel Sanders) I am such a Dick/Johnson that at some point I will probably demonstrate my wealthy pedigree with some bedazzling gems including: My sesquipedalian lexicon. My aptitude for locating and destroying everybody's grammatical and verbal solecisms. I am such a Dick I can't even tell you how many times in an evening I will brag about how badass I am at holding the door open for you. In fact, I may even give you a fat lip with my favorite of the antiquated words: chivalry (second place, “sepia”). Caveat Emptor: I am a colossal, endowed, gigantic Dick. Er, Johnson (You bet your serf-like existence that I'm proud of my family's name. Bow down and lick the hand that feeds you, please). I am such a ginormous (yes, that’s a word, language serf – it was one of the top neologisms for 2007) Dick/Johnson that my bad biker self will probably always say things like: The word "irony" is not the same as the word "coincidence". Geezus (I’m pretty bad, but I misspell on the fact that I don’t want to offend the top badman of the world, J.C.). I’ll have you know that “cliché” is not the same as “hackneyed”. And really, get it right: "notorious" is not synonymous with "famous". Nor is “modern” synonymous with “contemporary”. Douche. I will probably use contractions appropriately and you will probably become annoyed at my awesomeness and general adroitness with language. If you are lucky, I may even recite some of my favorite poems from poets like: Myself, Rilke, Neruda, Plath, Bukowski or even cummings. Yes, that’s right I am the kind of Dick that’s a pleonastic erudite. A giant Johnson in the ass. Huh? Anywho: You probably should know however that yes, I'm the kind of Dick that won't capitalize anything in my emails because I believe in artistic liberty. And yes, by liberty I actually do mean: choice. And while there are multitudes of other fine, awesome-ass points that I could make on my behalf, I will simply leave you with these facts which support the fact that I'm NOT the kind of Dick/Johnson that: Has any friends named Chad. Owns even one baseball cap/wears it backwards and in public. Visits LoDo's scrumptious bars or grills (with or without that British "e"). Says "delish". My favorite word, however, is: fucktard. And no, you can’t say it just because my gigantic Dick of a bad self uses it. I hate followers, but I do like to have my ass worshipped and rubbed. Kneeded (did you catch that word play. She-it. Be-otch.) In the end I am the kind of big Dicked Johnson that does not enjoy the company of very fat, er check that – stupid – girls. You can be kind of fat as long as you’re not kind of stupid. For I wish not to diminish the fine pedigree of my family (this of course will happen after you see my massive Johnson and begin the worship ceremony which inevitably will lead to the dispersion of my coconut infused man juice). What? |
