wither in the light

As part of my continued anthropological efforts to observe and document the human species in its natural habitat, I present to you Bad News Hughes and his Diary of Indignities:

It all started with one of those rare bouts of sexual intercourse that included participation from both myself and a living, female human being. And, happily, I did not render myself unconscious at any point during the brief consummation of the act. Though I did get a little distracted wondering why girls that act all liberated and dirty and sexually adventurous with their clothes on always turn out to have so many uptight rules when it's naked time: "What are you doing?! Sorry, I don't do that. Don't touch me there! Don't look at me! Just what do you think you're going to do with THAT thing?! Untie these ropes right now! I'm allergic to dogs!" Etc.

Reading further on his site, there is a list of hard-earned-if-somewhat-random lessons he shares for our edification. Apply liberally as needed:

Yeah, I know Sid Vicious wore a lock on a chain around his neck just like that. But the first time you try and pogo with that thing on it's gonna chip a tooth, Road Warrior.

Now that you've climbed up there, it's a lot higher than it looks, isn't it? Dumbass.

When it comes time to pick out that first tattoo, remember: it doesn't matter how much you like that one comic book. There's always a chance that eight years later someone will make a movie of it that stars Sylvester Stallone. And you'll be fucked.

Dungeons and Dragons never goes away. Girls will still sense that shit 20 years later.

Be warned, however: I sifted the contents of the site for the most presentable material. Something on that page is pretty much guaranteed to offend just about anybody. But it's good reading if you're not easily miffed.