Fuck you, Uncle Sam. Now pay me.

The U.S. government is fucking me. And not in the good way.

It kind of figures. For the first time in my life, I got my act together and went to an accountant. A really good accountant.

He showed me a myriad of things I could write off, and when all was said and done my refund was the largest it’s ever been. By a country mile. I’ve never gotten back thousands of dollars before. 2009 was gonna rock, baby!

And then, the fuckers must’ve just decided that I wasn’t worth that much money. They probably got wind of the fact that I’m just out here coasting through life and did not earn the right to get back so much of my hard-earned dough that I involuntarily send to their diamond toilet and gold-plated yacht fund every year.

I had to go so far as to file a claim with the U.S. government to either track down the original check (which some online robot swears was mailed out) or eventually send me a replacement check.

Of course, the paltry little California state return came back with a quickness. Bah! Sure, you owed my that chunk of change, and I’m glad you were man enough to pay it, Mr. California. But can you please say something to yer boy America? There’s a kilo of cocaine, a gross of condoms and a week fucking as many dirty hookers as (in)humanly possible in Amsterdam between raiding coffee shops for their supplies of Sour Diesel buds in my future whenever they gimme my $$$$. That shit is gonna be epic.

Unfucked

Dr. Drew has got my number.

OK, I’m far too old to be listening to the good doc on the “Loveline” radio show, but whenever I find myself in the car between the hours of 10PM-midnight, I can’t resist tuning in and listening to the kiddies talk about the dirty dirty.

But every once in a while, that damn Dr. Drew will just nail me. Like last night.

A girl called in and asked about her fixation on extremely rough sex. Of course, Drew got her to admit lots of childhood molestation and serious abandonment issues.

The guest was Andrew WK, who actually piped in with a sensible question for Drew: Would indulging in these sexual activities, would the caller be able to ‘work out’ some of her issues with them? Drew bummed me out by saying oh hell no.

The way Drew sees it, indulging in such sexual compulsions doesn’t help the psyche work through them, but actually cements them even deeper into the subconscious. Oh, great.

He went on to encourage the caller to basically reset her sexuality with a long period of abstinence followed by getting involved in close relationships minus the sex. In essence, getting comfortable with being close to someone without having to have them give it to you up the butt while choking you out, that sort of thing. On this point, I have to call bullshit on the good doctor.

That was pretty much my M.O. with my last girlfriend. I was going to really get to know this girl, become her friend, and not just reduce her to a sex object. Guess what happened? We ended becoming such good friends that the sex eventually just… went away. And neither of us said much about it.

By the time we did address the issues, it was already too late to salvage things. I had un-fucked my way out of a relationship.

It’s almost laughable to me. Me, the raging sex addict that has to cum at least twice a day, lost a girl for not fucking her enough. Now that’s just rich. It doesn’t help that she’s the most together woman I’ve ever been with. She’s got her proverbial shit together and is doing good things with her life. Meanwhile, I’m blowing lines, following porn stars on Twitter and jerking of to xTx’s blog.

Ah, good for the ex-girlfriend for getting the hell out while the getting was good. I mean, I’m sure we’re not done done. Not quite yet, anyway. She’s definitely left the door open for me. I just have to get my act together and fly right. And oh yeah, she’s also trolling for a proposal—which is the real reason we’re no longer together, if I’m being honest.

She’s ready to make that move and I’m just not. Typical. But when you’re contemplating ringing up the Moolight Bunny Ranch in Reno for a session with Jordan Soprano, it’s kind of obvious that marriage is not exactly a priority for me right now…