Whipped Page #7

And then there was Jonathan.

He was harmless, Jonathan.

Yeah.

I could've hung out

with him a little longer.

Mia, you getting "emo" on us?

-Please.

-What's "emo"?

Emotions. Occupational hazard.

No, I just felt kind of

bad for him, that's all.

-Then again, he had it coming.

-Of course he had it coming.

Exactly.

F*** this sh*t. I want details.

Did he have a big dick?

Come on, give it to us.

Package size.

Oh my...!

Come on.

Holy sh*t!

-Oh, baby!

-You go, girl!

Does he have cousins or brothers?

So is that all of them?

No.

Then there was also Eric.

The pathetic married friend.

Married, not married, married...

He comes over to my house,

giving me this sob story

about how it's my fault

his friends are abandoning him

-on their Sunday brunches.

-Which it was.

Of course, but I didn't

let him know that.

So what did you do?

I blew him.

Yeah! Who's your daddy now?

He actually tasted good.

-His wife probably reads Cosmo.

-Yeah.

Mia, you're a f***ing pro.

Where do you find these guys?

When I saw them work on those

three girls in the park that day,

I knew they were the ones.

They had the bloated egos,

the look, the lines,

the whole nine yards.

Why are men such

f***ing idiots?

I figured these guys out

in a matter of minutes.

They were perfect.

It was awesome watching them

scramble in their own game,

thinking they're

God's gift to women.

They didn't know what hit them.

The point is that it's fun.

I mean...

Yeah, it's fun.

Guys do it all the time.

You got to be willing to face

the consequences if you scam.

You know...

everybody fucks everybody

in the end.

You got to be prepared.

Its the nature of the beast.

Next, please.

I don't know what you got

down here, lady.

Its been clogged all week.

I think I got something here.

That's where it is.

Give me that!

Here comes Papa!

What the hell...?

I haven't been able to come

all week and that's why.

What's that smell?

What?

Never mind.

Just put your pants back on.

I got to talk to you guys.

Im serious.

What now?

I don't care what the guys say.

Anymore.

They're always...

giving me sh*t about Loraine

and trying to cock block me.

Cock block is where, let's say,

you're in a bar and you're

trying to hit on a woman

and she's buying your sh*t.

And then...

one of your a**hole friends

comes up and they're like:

"Hey, man. How's the wife?"

That's an instant cock block.

You cannot talk your way

out of that sh*t.

Why are you trying to pickup

women in bars if youre married?

What?

I said, why are you trying to

pickup women if youre married?

I mean, come on...

Im a guy.

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