The Complete A**hole's Guide to Handling Chicks

Chapter One

FROM BIRTH TO BEATING OFF

THE BIRTH OF AN ASSHOLE

It all started one day when your parents were drunk and Dad attacked your nearly passed-out mom after she had finished her third glass of white zinfandel. From that auspicious debut, you began your life as a little bad-ass sperm attacking the ovum like it was day-old pizza. Spitting on all the other pansy sperm, you set up base camp on that egg and spent the next nine months like a goddamn king. You were in a warm haze the entire time, eating constantly, never worrying about blind dates, cheating girlfriends, or the female orgasm. In fact, it was so great there in the womb, when you finally got out, you knew you were going to spend the rest of your life trying to get right back in.

THE PUREST FORM OF ASSHOLE

Regardless of what kind of sympathetic nice guy disease you’re currently trying to purge from your system, you need to remember that you were a complete asshole when you first shot out of Mom. Think about it: you shit when you wanted to and some chick would clean it off your diapers. You cried like hell and made sure that nobody could sleep until you got what you wanted. You even puked on people who didn’t feed you correctly. You were master of your domain, so nobody was about to fuck with you.

And what was the result of your blatant selfishness and complete disregard for everybody else? Did women hate you? Of course not! They thought you were the cutest thing they’d ever seen. They played with you, constantly rubbed your butt, and two or three times a day, one of them would let you suck on a boob for twenty to thirty minutes at a time. This is why infants are the purest form of assholes. They understand that women are there to serve them, and they don’t give a shit about anything but the next nipple they’re going to suck on.

If given the opportunity, you would carry on like this for the rest of your life. After all, you let a guy crap, burp, fart, puke, and take afternoon naps whenever he wants, and there’s pretty much no question that he’s going to try to keep that deal going for as long as he can. So what happened to finally knock you off your pedestal? More chicks came along and screwed things up. Get used to it.

GIMME MY TOY, YOU BITCH!

Around age three or so, you begin spending time with girls your age and things start to change. Suddenly, you can’t cry and get your way with them anymore. If you pee all over yourself, they’re more apt to laugh at you than to help out, and, if you puke on them, you better be ready to get it right back in your face.

These challenges to your God-given right to be served by women are just the first of many dramatic differences you will start to notice. For example, the little girls are wearing pink, while your clothes are blue. Girls are playing with dolls, while your every attention is focused on smashing trucks or eating dirt. And you’ll also start to notice that they cry a lot more than you do. They get frustrated, they cry. They get hungry, they cry. You cry, they cry. This is one of the few things from your early childhood that will continue throughout the rest of your life, so you should probably get used to it.

Not surprisingly, at this point in your development you begin to realize that women suck. The adults tend to fawn over the cute little girl in pigtails, while you gnaw on Fisher-Price racing cars and get no attention. Slights like these turn you off to girls and make you realize that you couldn’t care less what they do, as long as they stay with their own kind and you get to hang out with your buddies and break stuff. Chicks play with chicks, little dudes play with little dudes, and everything in the world is right. Who’d have thought this would be the last time you’d ever have a healthy relationship with women?

CROSSING THE DANCE FLOOR

During the years between three and (about) eight, your life in the schoolyard stays relatively carefree. Testosterone is working its magic on little boys, turning them into hyper-competitive, out-of-control monsters, while estrogen is doing the same thing on the other side of the fence, making girls fashion-conscious and catty. However, with boys and girls streaming to opposite sides of the playground, they’re each in their own little worlds, and the opposite sex doesn’t bother the other much.

Then, one day it starts to happen. You’re eight or nine years old, the school has set up a square dance, or something similarly retarded, and, while you’re hanging out with your buddies next to the punch bowl (precursor to the keg), you stare across the floor and notice, for the first time, holy shit, that fourth-grade chick’s got a great ass! You look to your left and you see one of your Little League teammates staring at a fifth-grader’s suddenly developing boobs! To your right—oh my God!—one of your friends is actually walking across the dance floor to talk to … girls?! No boy has ever walked across the dance floor—certainly not to talk to some whiny little chick. You and your friends are not supposed to be interested in girls—you’ve got baseball cards to trade, comic books to read. What the hell is going on here?! What’s happening inside your brain that suddenly makes girls interesting?

Well, we hate to tell you, but you’ve just begun a lifetime journey—a journey to hell and back, where you’ll spend every waking moment desperately trying to get into the pants of one girl and out of the cross-hairs of another. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll dump, you’ll be dumped. Where you look for companionship, you’ll find loneliness. Where you seek passion, you’ll find indifference. The things that occur around you will often leave you baffled; but, unfortunately, what seems like an answer one day turns into a question the next. This will be a tumultuous time, as you join the everlasting fraternity of guys who are embittered, frustrated, resentful, and downright pissed at the lunacy that characterizes the female existence. You’re about to start dealing with chicks. You’re only nine or ten years old and guess what? You’re fucked.

HOW DO I GET HER? THE BEGINNING OF THE END

At around eleven or twelve, your hormones are starting to kick in and the serious pain is about to commence. Realizing that you want women is not so bad; actually trying to get them is when it all goes to hell. Because you’re too young to really know what’s going on, you spend a lot of this time confused. Actually, you’ll spend the rest of your life confused but, at age ten, you can’t get blackout drunk, so you don’t yet have the proper tools to deal with the whole woman thing.

Compounding this problem is the fact that chicks mature faster than dudes. They are already developing their sexual organs, and every one of them is about a foot taller than you. How are you supposed to treat a woman like dirt when she can probably kick your ass across the playground?

Grab your sack and start some shit, that’s how! The only guys getting ass in middle school are the ones that antagonize the hell out of any girl within arms’ reach. Even though the girls don’t like being treated poorly, for some reason they’re intrigued by surly behavior. Offer to carry a girl’s books and she laughs in your face. Smack her in the back of the head and she’ll be passing you notes during fifth period. This is a crucial fork in the road of your social development. Assholes are about to become distinct from nice guys. Were you mature enough to realize that calling some girl a bitch would have her making out with you by lunchtime? Or were you too young to realize that being a nice guy means you spend the weekend playing Dungeons and Dragons?

*   *   *

Events start to move quickly as you pass through your teenage years. Right after your first growth spurt makes you realize that Pokemon cards don’t hold a candle to a fifteen-year-old’s sprouting boobs, you get thrown right into a freezing-cold ocean filled with chick sharks and chick barracudas, all looking to take a bite out of your tender, innocent ass. The next few years are going to be especially brutal. Your dick gets hard virtually every time you take a breath, girls’ bodies are guaranteed to be firm, and, yet, you can’t leave the house unless you’re in the family SUV. How can you score some action if your mom’s sitting in the front seat humming a disco song from 1974? The truth is, you can’t, and that’s why you’re so frustrated. You’ve got enough testosterone coursing through your body to provide daily Viagra pills to half the North American senior-citizen population, but there’s simply nothing you can do about it until.…

ROUGHING UP THE SUSPECT

Somewhere around twelve you realize that your penis has two very distinct states of mind: hard and soft. And it seems that the odometer is always stuck on hard. You wake up in the morning, you’re hard. The wind blows, you’re hard. You take a breath, you’re hard. There comes a point that your dick is so hard, so often, that you finally decide to do something about it.

One day, when you can’t take the pressure anymore, you pull it out of your pants and just start slapping it. Strangely, it feels good, so you keep going. You smack it, tug it, and work it around in circles. What starts off as innocent fun, however, soon turns into a much more serious affair. The more you rub, the better it feels. Your heart beats a little faster, you start to sweat, and then it happens for the first time: a chick sneaks into your mind. It could be any chick—your babysitter, the girl on TV, or that babe sitting next to you in social studies. Suddenly, you’re wondering if this would feel better if she was doing all the tugging. Before you know it, you’re having your first fantasy, and your seed is spilling all over the place.

At first, it shocks you. Where in the hell did all that stuff come from? Why are my legs weak? Why did it feel so fucking good? This, our young friend, is where the true pain begins. You’ll spend the next four years sitting in a bedroom beating your meat like a butcher. You’ll start naming your hand after every girl in school, and you’ll subscribe to Sports Illustrated just to get The Swimsuit Issue. Chances are, you’re jerking off so many times a day that you can lift an eighteen-wheeler with your right hand but can barely pick up a fork with your left. Unfortunately, none of it will ever be enough. The more you jerk it, the more you want some chick to lend you a helping hand. But how—how can you possibly get some girl to touch your penis? This is the make-or-break moment for every young man.

Unfortunately, most boys fall to the dark side of the force and start kissing chicks’ asses in hopes of getting to grab one. These poor kids will eventually end up in the humiliating and lonely world of the pussy-whipped—a place where you could waste away for eternity if there wasn’t a book like this to finally pull you out. The rest of the boys—the assholes—understand exactly how to get little girls to touch their little male penises. They simply pull it out and slap some chick in the face with it. Eventually, they’ll catch some seventh grader with her mouth open, and it’s all roses from there.

Okay, so the rewards may not be too substantial at this age, because you’re probably not dating in the eighth grade. But, hey, you are playing a little grab-ass underneath the bleachers after a football game, or you’re finding some other slut who will let you feel her up behind the Phys. Ed. trailers. That’s pretty cool in junior high school, but, trust us, if you can further develop your asshole skills, it’s just the prelude to bigger and better things. Get ready, you’re going to high