Against "Snow White" acts: a polemic

Since Sanders got me voted out of the KEG house despite my herculean efforts to get him kicked out of CU via set-up attempted thefts/fraternity pranks committed against cuckolded, dickish, anti-KEG sociology professors' autographed baseball collections, I've had a great deal of time to reflect on my behavior. Some–like those femi-nazi bitches at the Take Back the Night rally–seem to think that I'm the worst example of a frat boy based on my obnoxious behavior. Okay, I'll admit, I tried to fuck a fifteen-year-old runaway before (YET AGAIN) my archnemesis Steve Sanders laid down a cockblocking of epic proportions. And instead of realizing that taking advantage of vulnerable, already probably exploited minors is wrong, I came to the following conclusion: WOMEN ALL SECRETLY WANT TO HAVE NON-CONSENSUAL SEX WITH JOHN SEARS, BUT THEY LIE ABOUT IT AFTERWARD JUST CAUSE AND THAT'S HOW YOU GET INTO TROUBLE. This has become my new life motto, a "carpe diem" of sorts.

By the way, in the interest of full disclosure, I am John Sears, former KEG man and enthusiastic date rapist. I am also being discriminated against by these lying women who all want every inch (all four and a half, BABY) of my weight-lifting, self-congratulatory, disgusting frat pig self, and who later claim that's not true and I "assaulted" them. No means yes, ladies, GET IT THROUGH YOUR THICK SKULLS. You were put on earth for one reason, and one reason only: to be sexually harassed, abused, and preyed upon by myself, John Sears. WITHOUT following that up with accusations of so-called felony rape. Girls, it's time to get with the program. It's completely unacceptable for you to be infringing on my right to impose my mighty Sears penis upon you.

Let me give an example of what women should NOT do. Let's look at Kelly Taylor. The girl is a certifiable rape magnet. I mean, she lost her virginity when some heroic dude dragged her drunk ass into some bushes and used his high school senior status to subjugate and "date-rape" her (you go, bro). Adding insult to injury, he then inscribed "Kelly is a slut" (FACT) on a wall tile at West Beverly, where it remained until Kelly's five-year high school reunion in 1998. Then she wore a suggestive costume to a Halloween party and almost got what she deserved from a USC frat boy dressed as a cowboy with an admirable ability to stay in character even while attempting to straighten Kelly out as far as the sex she ought to be having. Too bad the cowboy wasn't at CU (GO CONDORS), and too bad ONCE AGAIN that dolt Steve Sanders intervened and punched him out when he called Kelly a slut (a fact, I should add). Then Kelly would later be raped for the slutty crime of walking down an alley in a bad part of town while enabling that moody, needy loser McKay. And with me, Kelly acted like a TOTAL whore. She talked to me on the phone about her psychology homework, she FLIRTED with me, and once she even did a little tongueless making out with me. But in spite of all this skanky behavior, she claimed I–yes, I, JOHN SEARS!–was the one acting out of line. UNBELIEVABLE. What did she think I was doing, hanging around for her brilliant freshman repartee?

I've had it with the Kelly Taylors of the world, and by Kelly Taylors I mean ALL WOMEN. They run around acting like total skanks and basically shouting from the roof that they want me, BAD. And how could they not? Look at me:

It should be obvious that I'm the kind of guy who doesn't take no for an answer. Just ask my former KEG brethren, who couldn't get rid of me even after my railroading at the hands of the loathsome legacy pledge Steve Sanders. Women take note: if you've ever interacted with me AT ALL, you should be prepared to back up your seductive ways by receiving what I like to call "the John Sears Jackhammer," and NOT complaining to law enforcement afterward. I really HATE that when some broad obviously comes on to me, by asking if I want paper or plastic, or by asking if I'm a teacher at her middle school, or by greeting me at the Encino Wal-Mart, and then acts all stuck-up about the sex that naturally ensues. I mean, sex without permission is totally NOT rape when the woman signs away her so-called "rights" by wantonly asking me if I have the time.

I've had enough of this and it's time to strike back. The only way to fight what I like to call a "Snow White" act (because Snow White was also an uptight bitch who would rather hang around with laborer midgets than put out) is with my own God-given sword. So, my plan is thus to go out there and "rape" up a storm, in hopes of reclaiming my divine right as a man and a Sears. Take that, Snow Whites and Kelly Taylors of the world!

And if that doesn't work out and I'm not in prison, I'll probably just go play Chad Michael Murray's dad on One Tree Hill.

Dental Hygienist of the Month: January and February 2010

Hi gang.

Sorry I've been absent for a couple months, but you know what they say: absence makes the heart grow fonder. Well, that's what I told my son David, anyway, when he complained that I'd been gone so long at an "oral surgery conference." Better tell him that than the truth: I was actually getting oral from a certified head doctor and youthful new employee during an extended trip to sunny México. If it makes David feel any better, I was thinking of him when they played that Jasper's Law song he wrote for Donna or possibly Valerie in the Mazatlan airport bar. That's a great song for waiting around to. I think I might start jamming that in the reception area of my thriving dental practice (the third best in Los Angeles, I might add).

Anyway, let's get to the business I know best: hot, nubile oral hygienists. This installment of this series had to be great, since it has to make up for two months of silence. After scouring the world for a woman of such quality, I finally found the lady to light fires in my loins during these two dreary winter months in beautiful Italy! Meet the luscious and talented Nicole Minetti:

The luscious Ms. Minetti was convinced by the awesomely corrupt Italian President Silvio Berlusconi to throw her thigh-highs into the political fray and run for some type of regional governor position. This makes a great deal of sense, because before she attended to President Berlusconi in a time of dental crisis (when an angry citizen struck him in the face with a marble statue of the Duomo di Milano), she appeared on some show as a "dancer" and the Italian version of "Candid Camera." Clearly she is qualified to preside over the workings of Tuscany or wherever, if she's qualified to preside over the president's mouth. I vote Minetti, or I will, the next time I take one of my dental assistants to Europe for another "conference."