In other words, like so many working women everywhere, it appears that what she did was organize things and send out a lot of emails and memos.

Of course, Goldman is in the business if making money, not organizing things and sending out memos.  According to Bloomberg, assets within Rominger’s division “fell 4.5 percent in the quarter as clients pulled cash from money market and equity funds. Stock market declines also reduced the level of assets under management.”  At that rate, in less than 21 years, the entire division would have been wiped-out.

I’m sensing a pattern.

Unlike Brandstrader, I have a blue-chip business degree.  I’d note that Rominger did 8.6% worse from 2000-2002 than a guy who stuffed his cash in a mattress.  Using a fuckonometric analysis, had a guy put $100,000 in his mattress at the start of 2000, he could have withdrawn enough money from the mattress to have sex with 43 hookers (at the widely-available rate of $200) and ended up with just as much money as had he given it to Rominger to invest and not gotten laid at all.  Not particularly impressive.

Click on pen to

If you are in the Tampa Bay/Sarasota area and want to be an Eskimo Brother to Tiger Woods by having fucked the same woman, porn star Devon James is looking to get laid, and willing to do so for only $180.  Here’s her current ad, on backpage:

Be aware, however, that James was recently banned from working at the Bunny Ranch due to having broken the hooker’s code of silence by blabbing about sleeping with Tiger.  There’s no guarantee she won’t run her mouth about sleeping with you.

Then again, if the reason you fuck her is because you want to be able to tell everyone that you fucked the same chick as Tiger Woods, I imagine you don’t much care.

I also don’t like the fact that she claims in her ad that she’s visiting, but, in fact, she lives in the area, or at least did when she first made headlines.  I have known other hookers who have falsely claimed to be only visiting the area when they actually lived there.  I guess they have their reasons, but IMO, the less lying, the better.

In case you are interested in what Devon James looks and sounds like with a penis in her, here she is in action.  Frankly, I prefer her with a little less light, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not considering becoming Tiger Woods’ Eskimo Brother.

Devon James can be reached at 941.726 3745.

Click on pen to

I have been granted an audition for the Stienfeel porn parody!  On Tuesday, Producer Ricky James (real alias), having reviewed The Balls Monologues, invited me to “audition on a hot Mexican girl.”  The audition will occur Labor Day week in Ensenada, Mexico.

This could be my big break, especially since James is looking for fresh faces, a perfect fit for my short porn resume and porn-version-of-Seinfeld-character real-world- likeness.   Though I’m not religious, I believe I may have registered a porn star first by placing a note in Western Wall in Jerusalem on Wednesday praying for my success in obtaining the role.  In fact, if I get the part, I may credit the note for my landing the role and get religious, but not until the conclusion of the 13 episode shoot, which I imagine calls for the Kramer character to have sex with at least about 40 women.

Wish me luck – whoever gets the role will get paid $26,000, while sex with 40 women would cost me about $8,000, a difference of $34,000 before taxes.

Details to follow.

Click on pen to

I’m in Paris for about three days, with some time to kill.

How did this come to be?  Its complicated, but its really ultimately simple.  The simple explanation is that I’m single.  Being single means I can have time to kill in places like Paris, not having to be on someone else’s agenda, schlepping through overpriced stores to buy the same stuff you can get at home for less.  Its like living the gay lifestyle, albeit a little lonelier, but without the disgusting anal sex.

And what does a guyinist do in Paris with time to kill?  I know what you’re thinking.  A married guyinist with time to kill would be doing hookers.  But a single guyinist?  Yes, I am staying in a red light district (bordering, if not in, Pigalle), but a single guyinist has plenty of hookers at home he can do.  There’s no need to waste precious time in Paris getting ass that can be gotten back at home, where if I like the ass, it’ll be around for me to have again and again.

For a guy from Tampa, doing hookers in Paris is sort of like a guy traveling from Paris to Tampa to sample French restaurants.  If you’re from Paris, when you visit Tampa, I recommend Mons Venus strip club as our topic local offering – in fact, until I get too famous to have the time, shoot me an email and I’ll even take you there.  Afterward, any grub will do.

Does a single American guyinist in Paris spend some extra time going to museums?  Again, no.  That’s what married guys have to do when they visit Paris with their wives, and that’s what backpackers do when they travel around on their parents’ money after graduating from college.  I don’t have to cave in to the dicates of a wife, and I don’t have to explain the trip to my parents, so I don’t have to shop, and I don’t have to stare at paintings.

No, what a single American guyinist does in Paris is what my fellow artists and intellectuals have done for centuries.  Like Proust, Wilde, hundreds of fucking guys I’ve never heard of, and Jim Morrison, I’m creating.  I’m sitting at La Palette sidewalk cafe on Rue de la Seine in St. Germain, putting pen to paper, so to speak (warning to future visitors:  supposedly, this was the place remaining on the Left Bank with real artists and intellectuals, but it appears that may not be happening any more since word got out – I see only one guy on a laptop, and almost everyone else here looks like they can buy me and sell me.  And the place is a fortune – I just paid 5 Euros for a glass of pear juice, and another 5 for a Diet Coke).

I had planned to spend all day doing this, expecting to be inspired to post with prolifity.  Thanks to the presumptively-willful incompetence of Delta baggage handling and its contractors, I’ve spent far too much of my time here tracking down luggage, its past fuckin’ 7 o’clock and I’m just starting.

So here are my initial observations.

When I was preparing for my trip, I read in the Time Out guide about a new Parisian “seduction school,” L’Ecole de la Seduction, which supposedly teaches guys “skills” in meeting women.  Its run by a chick, so its probably clueless, and costs at least about $10,000 in U.S. money.  According to the lengthy blurb on the dating service, most of the guy clients in the agency have never slept with women other than hookers.  On the other hand, the women who sign up for the service – undoubtedly, some of those very same hookers -  have dated a lot but never been able to land a commitment.

The school claims a 90% success rate, a success being “a constructive, amorous relationship with somebody in the year following the lessons.”Of course, for that kind of scratch, the school could afford to just pay people to fake it.  The minimum tuition would cover 40 fucks at 200 Euro each, which appears to be an available rate for a one-nighter, but girls tend to be cheaper for regulars.  On the other side, women consider something a “relationship” if they are dating a guy out of their league for five minutes, so its easy to round up guys for “relationships” with the kind of moolah per student the school is taking in.

Anyway, I’ve met multiple women who complain about French guys.  They say they are too skinny from eating health food, and look old for their age.  IMO, they also seem a little on the effeminate/high-strung side; they look, and seem, like they need to hit the weights. If any of you French guys are reading and want to be able to get it “free,” skip the seduction school, read a free pickup artist website (I highly recommend Roissy), and hit the gym.

I’m nothing to write home about, but I’ve been getting an inordinate amount of attention and consistently positive body language, and I haven’t exactly been religious about hitting the gym.  France isn’t one of those places – like Latin America, Southeast Asia, and Eastern Europe – where you think about finding a girl to bring back to the U.S., yet I remember a friend of mine – just kind of a regular guy – who well past his 50th birthday managed to land and bring back a hot 28 year-old French chick.  It seems that France is a good hunting ground for hot young chicks.  As I am writing this, two seriously gorgeous chicks sat at the table next to me and close, and their body language is unmistakable.  They are seated across the table from each other, but both angled toward me.  In the States, the body language I get is usually so poor that I still wouldn’t even know what the one next to me’s face looks like.  Its at least the fourth time in three days chicks looked like they wanted to go to war over me.  French guys are making it easy for me.

Moi!  47 year-old, 5’9″ me!  Me, even with only remnants of my wardrobe!  My height-enhancing shoes (see my Tall Man Shoes banner at the bottom of the page) hadn’t even made it to Paris yet the first three times!

Of course, what the chicks may really be unhappy about has nothing to do with French guys being skinny, and, contrary to reputation, quite friendly I should add.  It could just be that they don’t seem to drive expensive cars.  Its a city full of restaurants – for tourists.  French guys apparently don’t pay for sex indirectly – they go right to the source.  And when they do go to restaurants, it appears they do little eating, and let the women – who greet them with friendly kisses -  show up first.

Or it could just be that, it being August, the alphas are at the beach on Holiday (for my fellow Americans, that’s that lengthy period each year when Europeans don’t have to go to work or even use vacation days – its the European equivalent of Labor Day, but it lasts around a month), and the service-worker types are just about all who is left.  But I doubt it – the payah deprogramming dating service isn’t something I found on some obscure website; its in the leading Paris guide book.

Also, it seems like every neighborhood in France has some colorful history involving prostitution.  In the Pigalle, that history obviously continues, with small bars filled with half-naked women sitting around, and, at 3 AM, hordes of guys hanging out on the street, late-night snacking, all appearing to have the type of type of relaxed attitude that accompanies freshly-drained balls.

I suspect what’s really going on is that French guys have – like increasing numbers of American guys – simply given up on their women.  Unlike, for instance, in Japan, with its massive, celibate, “herbivore” trend, French guys apparently haven’t given up on the vaginas and breasts of their women – they’ve just given up on the shopping bags, bling, and bassinettes women require.  The aforementioned dating service is for some of them surely only to make their parents happy, like 21 YO backpackers wasting an entire day half-consciously trapsing through the Louvre, knowing little more than that the Mona Lisa was painted by Picasso (that’s a joke).

As in so many other spheres – remember “Freedom Fries?” – we have a lot to learn from the French.  Work/life balance, nuclear power, urban planning, and large-scale Guyinism.  After cultivating a reputation for being the world’s greatest lovers, it appears that French guys aren’t resting on their laurels – it appears that they simply don’t care anymore.

They’ve moved on.

Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité, Guyinism

P.S.  Sorry about the lousy editing – too many hot, approachable chicks sitting next to me.

Click on pen to

Like many cities, New York City has a zoning regulation that prohibits adult businesses from being within 500 feet of a place of worship.

I cut my payah teeth in a peep show within 500 feet of the proposed ain’t exactly at Ground Zero mosque. For just a 50 cent token, a window would open up, through which I would give hot chicks just one more dollar in order to fondle their breasts for a minute or so. “$1.50 Breast” is what I would call it, and for just a few bucks more, a guy could get more. For instance, another $1 and you could be feeling the chicks’ ass.

For added stimulation – not that a younger DirkJohanson needed it -  sometimes there were a couple people fucking on the floor of the room the naked chicks were in.  Even without the people fucking, I would frequently leave $1.50 Breast with large, Peter North-sized, wet semen stains on my pants, as I embarassingly slithered through the crowded downtown streets onto the subway.

$1.50 Breast as I knew it is gone. Last I checked, there was still porn at that location, but no more windowless peeps, gone since Mayor Rudy Giuliani drove them away.

Nonetheless, if the mosque is built, never again in the foreseeable future will pornography and prostitution flourish at this historic location, where DirkJohanson first cut his, uh, er, tongue on numerous hot Puerto Rican chicks’ nipples.

Its bad enough that an asswipe like Giuliani shut down windowless peeps, but to allow a mosque to destroy the nature of this site – historic to guyinists and payahs everywhere, even if they’ve never heard of it yet – would forever desecrate this historic location.  The mosque cannot be built at that location.  The ground nearby is holy to Guyinism.  It is Guyinism’s ground zero.

As an alternative, technically, some of the original Twin Towers site itself  is more than 500 feet away from the former site of $1.50 Breast.  To the Iman and your fellow America-hating financial backers, just sayin’ it could be a win-win for both you and Guyinism if you’ll kindly remake the plans for a couple blocks to the southwest.

After all, dammit, if you build the mosque at the proposed location, it would be like Giuliani won.

Click on pen to

People are always saying you’re going to meet someone when you least expect it.  Maybe that works for girls.  For guys, its a canard.  Most of us have to work at it hard to meet a girl.

When I least expect it?  Please.  I used to least expect I meet a chick while taking a dump at a filthy crowded stadium bathroom.  After all, where could I be less likely to meet the woman of my dreams.  Meanwhile, I’m closing in on 48, and while a friend of mine’s girlfriend once opened the door on me while I was shitting in college and insisted on watching, that was a co-ed bathroom in a dormitory – I kind of expected I’d get walked in on sooner or later.  In a filthy stadium bathroom, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a chick, let alone gotten to know a hot one while on the bowl.

Maybe the problem is that, due to the saying “when I least expect,”  I soon came to expect that I would meet a chick while on the bowl of a crowded stadium bathroom.   The saying is a vicious cycle that way, making it all the more of a canard.  After all, how can you meet someone when you least expect it when you start expecting it to happen in the most unlikely of circumstances?

I guess now that I have come to expect that I would meet the girl of my dreams while on a stadium bowl, “when I least expect it” has now become the second before I give up on the possibility of actually getting laid and start jacking off.

The reality is, I meet girls when I most expect it.  I call the hookers, and most of the time they come over fairly promptly.  Worked like a charm again last night.

Fuck this “when you least expect it” shit.

Then again, last night, I really only called the girl to see if she wanted to go to FetishCon with me, since I was sitting at home doing nothing on a Friday night and since she does fetish sessions (although not my bag),  lives right down the street, and doesn’t have a car.  She suggested instead that, since she really needed money, she’d see me for only $50, which soon turned into $50 and a pack of Newports, but still.  So I guess I didn’t really expect it, at least not the getting laid part.

On the other hand, how shocking is it when you ask a hooker out and she wants to just come over and fuck instead?

This “when you least expect it” stuff is all very confusing

Click on pen to

I’m fascinated by this employment ad for discount supermarket chain ALDI.

The ad asks, “Are you made for ALDI?” and answers “It takes a unique person.  Someone who’s dedicated.  … And is ready to do what it takes to earn the rewards.”

Judging by the picture, it appears that one of things it doesn’t take is having balls.  And one of things it does take is willingness to eat a fellow girl’s pussy in a group setting – which isn’t really all that unique these days, my contrary experience in a “mother teaching teen (she was actually 20)” threesome I had yesterday notwithstanding.

In any event, who’s quibbling.  The message got through clearly to me, whether intended or not.

I’ll be back shopping at ALDI soon.

Click on pen to

For those of you who have been incredibly jealous looking at the banner ad for Swingfest on my site, now removed, you don’t have to be as jealous.  Swingfest 2010, scheduled for next weekend in Orlando, has been canceled, so you don’t have to think about more than 10,000 people having group sex in one hotel and you not being there.

Of course, many of those people will simply orgy elsewhere next weekend.  In fact, I first learned of the cancellation when I received an email announcing replacement parties at the nearby Tampa Bay Area Caliente Resort.  Still, some will not choose to go to Caliente – or have group sex at all, for that matter – so you can feel better than if Swingfest were going on.

And for those of you who were going to go to Swingfest, go to Caliente instead.  Hopefully, I’ll find a date, and end up banging your wife or girlfriend, but only if she’s hot.

Click on pen to

Like so many women these days, particularly those in their late 30s and their 40s who are losing their looks, Lady Gaga has been publicly proclaiming that she is celibate.  She claims its because she’s doesn’t have time to get to know anyone.

It turns out that Gaga is full of caca – like nearly all women that claim they are celibate, she’s just hypergamous, and couldn’t really care less about getting to know anyone before sex if they are of sufficient status.  As reported by the New York Post, the not-all-that-hot-looking Gaga’s desire to fuck out of her league has caused her to be banned from the New York Yankee clubhouse as a result of spending about half an hour Friday night stripping and fondling her breasts in an attempt to get summarily fucked by ballers she doesn’t know other than as guys she sees on TV.

In fact, Gaga’s lack of knowledge of the ballers was particularly evident considering one of the guys she hit on was 34 year-old Alex Rodriguez, who is known for focusing his dating – and even marrying – women older than he is.  Gaga is only 24.

The incident occurred after a game between the Yankees, who have the best record in baseball, and their mediocre cross-town rival, the New York Mets.  Just days before, she had flipped off the Mets home crowd at CitiField, apparently angered that she was “only” given a front-row seat, and not a seat in a private box (to which she was eventually moved), so it can be safely presumed she would not be caught naked with a member of the second best baseball team in New York.

No word on whether Gaga is still celibate.  Of course, like most reasonably attractive successful women, Gaga considers herself  “bisexual” – if they can’t get top shelf guys, they’d rather not give regular guys the satisfaction.  Having obviously been striking out with the few guys she deems worthy, here’s betting the next we hear about Gaga having sex, its with a chick.

Click on pen to