The Florida Association for Women Lawyers (“FAWL”) has released its 2010 Legislative Advocacy Positions.

Get a load of these three, numbered back-to-back-to-back:

11.Supports ratification of the proposed amendment to the Constitution of the United States relating to equal rights for men and women.
12.Supports legislation allowing female inmates to maintain relationship with their minor children.
13.Support legislation keeping female inmates in close proximity to their minor children.

Apparently, FAWL wants to keep help female inmates – some of whom may be imprisoned for having killed one or more of their children – in close proximity to their minor children.  But a guy in jail for smoking weed?  Fuck him.

I’m wondering how these brilliant legal minds are planning to reconcile their gender bias with the constitutional position they are pushing.  Wouldn’t equal rights require that the guy weed smokers be kept in a close proximity to their children as female murderesses?

Or are the lawyeresses just assuming, like as is the case with so many other laws, that “equal” means laws are only struck down if they favor guys, but not if they favor women?

I’ll answer my own question.  Of course they are making that assumption, which is why they also keep pushing for more female judges, because women are so great at reasoning

and just because.

Just a few weeks before she was embarrassed in front of the world by her husband’s sexcapades – apparently shocked by the fact that a guy who used to be married to a porn star would want a little strange, or a lot of strange as the case is turning out to be ( the New York Post reports James’ cheating count is up to 4 women, but a source told the Pulitzer-nominated National Enquirer that there are at least 11), Sandra Bullock was recorded advocating domestic violence.

Click here to hear a woman who has been oft referred to as “America’s Sweethart” talking about how she would have woman-handled Tiger Woods.

Bullock, who held out before getting married at 40,  has been quoted as saying, “I’ve always been very skeptical about marriage because I only want to do it once, and I want to do it the right way.”

I guess, then,  she should have married a regular guy, not a wealthy, famous biker formerly married to one of the top porn stars in the world.

Anyway, on a somewhat-related note, I have to cut this post short.  One of the two hookers I am supposed to go to Winter Music Conference with tomorrow just beat and bloodied the other, and the latter just called me to pick her up at a gas station since now that the other hooker through her out of their sugardaddy’s crib, she has no place to stay.

I received an excellent question today from a Monologues reader:

Not much beats the anticipation of waiting for an escort to show up.  Whereas on a date with an amateur I’m rarely sure I’m going to get it, and when I’m with a regular girlfriend I don’t really much care (been there, done that, can do it just about whenever I want), an escort is virtually a sure thing with strange pussy of my choosing, or at least pussy I don’t see that often or have ready-access to.

Something that surely does beat the anticipation of an escort showing up is when the first escort doesn’t show up and I have to call a second.  Assuming I haven’t become so disgusted or run out of time such that I can’t call another, that second escort is even more greatly anticipated and likely to be the recipient of the contents of even-fuller balls than the first escort would have been.

As you can imagine, when the second escort doesn’t show and I am not too disgusted or out of time or palatable options and call a third escort, the anticipation is even greater, and my balls even fuller, than for the second escort.  In fact, I’m not even sure I’ve let it get to the point where I was anticipating and generating sperm for the third escort.

Until today.

BL gave me a fierce earful on Friday night, and announced on Facebook that I had broken up with her, and my sugarbaby has been tied up for a month with her toddler and isn’t free until next weekend.  Having not done an escort in about six months, I am way overdue and so I kept looking and looking and making call after call trying to find the right girl and the right situation.

Finding the right situation isn’t always easy for me.  I’m very particular, and generally focus my hunt on girls under 5’4″, under 120 pounds, and under 29 (I don’t do “29 year-olds” since I believe that’s the age a lot of escorts – just like amateurs -  claim to be when they are actually considerably older – in fact, I’d much sooner do a purported 33 year-old, so long as she actually looks 33, than a purported 29 year-old, who might be using old pictures).

I also rarely knowingly do girls that aren’t “independent” (i.e., they don’t work for an escort service) or who have a driver, since, at a minimum, sessions with girls whose time is being monitored – or who are merely keeping the driver’s interest in mind -  tend to be rushed, and also since a driver is always ready with the get-away car for the relatively few girls that attempt cash-and-dash.  The one exception I will make is if its a female driver, in which case I will invite the driver-girl to wait inside, a situation which, the one time I did it, resulted in an offer of free sex from the second girl – something my friend and long-time payah, George Martin (real alias), has experienced, as well.

But I decided to break another one of those rules today, that’s how horny I am.  I did something I haven’t done in years – I called an escort service.

I try to avoid escort services for a variety of reasons, in addition to those already mentioned above, one of the bigger reasons being that escort services keep black books that occasionally end up ruining a guys’ careers when the service reveals their names or the black book is seized by law enforcement (“LE” in payah parlance).  Currently, this isn’t much of a concern for me, since I use my alias (“Dirk”), since I use a pre-paid phone not in any way connected to my name (I paid cash for it and refill the time by making cash purchases of a card with extra-time, and usually don’t even refill it for several days so that the store’s security video is destroyed before the card purchase can be connected to the phone), and since I live in a large apartment complex and only give out the street number of the main office.

Services also tend to cost more, since the service takes a cut, and I also like to talk to the girl in advance to get a feel for her personality.  For instance, if a girl calls me “sweetie,” that’s a deal-breaker, though I’ve made one exception  – one I’m glad I made – when the girl swallowed her words in realization of her faux pas in displaying disrespect.  Guys are supposed to dominate – not be someone’s “sweetie” – at least until after we’ve either fucked the chick for free, or she’s taken a load in her face or mouth.

I broke down and called a service today, not just out of horniness – since there were other options – but because of two things.  First, the escort service I called, Rocco’s Escorts, doesn’t drive the girls, so there isn’t quite that time pressure of a guy sitting outside in the parking lot getting antsy and calling and texting the girl.  Secondly, Rocco’s has the girls call you right after you call the service, so you get to the talk to the girl and screen her for “sweetie” and similar tendencies.  Also, Rocco doesn’t take down your address – the girl does – so presumably the service doesn’t have as large and reliable a black book, if it has one at all.

Finally, I called Rocco’s, rather than another service, since Tori (one of her former real aliases), who I met apart from Rocco’s through Craigslist a couple of years ago, occasionally works for him, and had become friendly with another Rocco’s girl, Amber Gold, who not only has won the 2009 award for Tampa Bay’s “Escort of the Year” at the Night Moves Annual Adult Awards, but, who, according to Tori, loves her job so much that she doesn’t wear any makeup (“why wear makeup?  its just going to get messed-up, anyway” is what she has told Tori).  Gotta like a girl who gets down-and-dirty, especially with balls as full as mine are right now.

When I called, I was greeted by Rocco himself, who is also a local strip-club magnate, and who has a friendly and pronounced New York accent.  I asked if Amber Gold would be available, and for how much, and he told me $250.  Considering I’m a petite-ophile and was booked with a hot 21 YO spinner the last night for $175, and then booked with another spinner this morning for $200, when Rocco asked if he should send Amber Gold, who is not petite, over, I started to balk and said I would think about it.  Rocco began lecturing me that for a matter of $50, its an insult to the girl to negotiate – that the girl would know, and that would be reflected in the session.  He said “if you took a girl out to a nice restaurant, you wouldn’t refuse to buy dessert, would you?” He kept continuing, as I was trying to explain to him that I wasn’t negotiating but merely weighing my various options.

Of course, as I told him, he was preaching to the converted – something I have long taught other payahs is to realize that escorts are as human as anyone else, not to negotiate, and prepare yourself for the date (including by shaving your balls) just as you would for a date with any other hot chick you’ve never met before that’s coming over to your crib to fuck you – or at least how you would prepare yourself for such a date if it were to ever actually happen.  He said 90% of guys don’t know this.  Hence – since compared to me Rodney Dangerfield was feared – I am again relying upon a highly-credentialed expert rather than my own words in the form of this post.

A few minutes later I got a call -  it was Amber Gold.  There wasn’t a trace of “sweetie” in her voice – she sounded a lot like one of my ex-es, was incredibly friendly and talkative, asked when I wanted to see her, told me she had lunch plans with a friend she couldn’t break but could see my soon afterward, and when I told her I was grabbing a quick lunch myself, asked what I was going to eat and then told me she was going for Italian and more or less where, which isn’t far from my place.

Within two hours, she’ll be coated with my semen.  In the meantime, I just hope she doesn’t order anything with a lot of garlic.

While I’m busy having sex with Amber Gold, check out Rocco’s redesigned website.  He asked for my input, and I told him one thing that he should add is the height of the girls, weight not really being necessary since the pictures give a good-enough idea of the girls’ bodies.  He agreed, and told me it was a good idea.  If you have any other ideas for how Rocco might make his website as good as it can be, at the risk of having him hook you up for sex with a hot chick, give him a call at 800.230.9099.

If any of you want to know the details of my session, shoot me an email at DirkJohanson@guyinism.com.

And, remember, and spread the word, that gay guyinist Dan Savage won’t give you advice like this.   The guys of the world need DirkJohanson.

Don’t ask how I could have gone so long without managing to add that feature.

Anyway, you can now subscribe by entering your email address. The space for doing that is currently directly beneath the Recent Comments section.

Imagine yourself out in a club.  You’re a regular guy and you see a group of four hot chicks.  You manage to work up the nerve to go over and hit on one of them, and you can’t believe it, but its working.  Her friends keep trying to drag her away, but, somehow, she keeps talking to you.  They finally leave, and she stays.  Maybe because she’s so hot, your drawing upon extra reserves, but its closing time, and somehow – don’t even ask yourself how – she’s actually leaving with you.

Next thing you know, she’s in your bed. Your sperm is everywhere – on her tits, on her face, in her mouth, in your own mouth, on the headboard, even on the kitchen floor.  Your balls are soaked from sweat, you feel like you lost ten pounds, and she just keeps coming at you.  “Everything DirkJohanson told me about Latinas is true,” you think to yourself.  “Except for the fact that there is only one girl, this must be what its like to be Derek Jeter on a typical night,” you conclude.  Your only real question:  are there any wedding planners in The Bronx?

The next day, you drove her home, and soon afterward there’s a loud knock on the door.  She did say something about a psycho ex-boyfriend the night before.  What if he has a switch blade?  You look through the peep hole, and see cops. “Police! Open up!,” they shout. You open the door, and in a friendly but concerned tone, ask, “Officers, can I help you with something?”

“You’re under arrest!  You have the right to remain silent ….”

“What am I being arrested for?”

“Rape!”

“Rape?”

This is sort of what happened to a guy named William McCaffery.  In fact, McCaffrey didn’t even get a chance to fuck the broad. He was a perfect gentleman, who ran into a cunt, Biurny Peguero Gonzalez, who took a lot of shit from her friends when she blew them off to go a party with him.  Her friends got so pissed, they got into a drunken brawl. In fact, the cat fight was so violent one of the woman’s heels broke a car window, and Gonzalez ended up in a hospital. The “wise Latina woman with the richness of her experiences would more often than not reach a better conclusion than a white male who hasn’t lived that life” blamed it – and more – on McCaffrey.

Four years of presumably getting his ass-fucked in prison later, in the midst of a 20-year sentence, the cunt recanted after DNA evidence proved her wrong and a priest who she confessed to urged her to come clean.  She apparently figured that now that she’d hatched another kid out of wedlock, only three months old, she won’t have to serve any time at all. She figured wrong, but not by much.  The prosecution asked for up to 6 years, but as the holder of a pussy pass, she got 1 to 3, and will be eligible for parole in a year.  Its actually a long sentence as far as false rape accusations go.

As I commented to The Spearhead, “true justice would tie the length of her incarceration into a multiple of what the guy had to suffer – triple the time seems the minimum appropriate to me. Also, as a fan of creative sentencing, the wrongfully incarcerated guy should be given the option of actually having sex the false accuser. He did time – he may as well get to do the crime.”

Why not?  I’m not talking about mistaken identity cases when I suggest this  – I’m talking about out-and-out lying about rape cases.

Yes, cruel and unusual punishment is prohibited by the Constitution.  However, rape – rape of guys, which is far worse than rape of women for obvious reasons – is already a de facto punishment for even relatively minor offenses, so its certainly not unusual.  And allowing a guy to put his dick in a girl who was willing to leave a bar with him can not possibly be described as cruel.  Vaginas are where penises are supposed to go.  Vaginas get pleasure from penises.  How could the mere insertion of a penis in a vagina – absent violence, STD exposure, or other external circumstances – possibly be described as cruel?  Especially for a woman who apparently likes penises and isn’t going to get one put in her for at least a year.

Of course, while there is a good chance that Gonzalez will be sexually assaulted by a prison guard, since, according to the United States Department of Justice, female guards are more likely to commit sexual assaults than their guy colleagues, not only will Gonzalez never have to give it up for McCaffrey, she has female advocates at her side every step of the way.  Organizations such as the Florida Association for Women Lawyers (“FAWL”) have expanded to become, in effect, an association for women non-lawyer prisoners, and are now advocating for special treatment of female prisoners to keep them in close proximity to their children.

Of course, the membership of FAWL has two words for a guy like McCaffrey, even if he has kids:  “fuck him.”  In fact, fucking – fucking Gonzalez, to be more specific – is what McCaffrey should have been given a chance by a court of law to do.

As brought to my attention by a Monologues reader, notorious porn producer Dirty D, was finally arrested in Tampa last night for filming a “simulated sex act” involving a 17-YO chick.

While, unlike his most recent previous arrest at a porno theater, I had nothing to do with this arrest, he was arrested on a property virtually adjacent to my office, across the street from Tampa International Airport.

I suspect, and will attempt to confirm, that he was arrested while returning to his car after arriving back in Tampa from the overseas trip that he was one when the shit first went down.

Bail has been set at $200,000, which is somewhere in the ballpark of what it normally costs him for talent for 200 filmed sexual interactions.  Lets hope he can come up with the money quickly, so I can resume stunt-cocking.

Something happened with my host’s server recently, and this site was down for a few days.  Some recent posts were not backed up, nor some recent comments.  They gave me some technical terms as to exactly what happened.

I’ll have a new post up soon, hopefully by the end of the day, and plan to restore the now-missing posts.   If any of you copied any of my posts since March 3 in their entirety and can email them to me, that would be very helpful.  Also, if you have ideas for a way the posts might otherwise be restored and need to see the technical description of what the host claims happened, let me know and I’ll send it to you.

In the meantime, the host is 247-host.com, and I’m looking for a new one.  Any suggestions are welcome, though the host has to be willing to host adult content and all the other things I advocate.

And say.

And do.

Anyway, you didn’t miss much.  Its not like two hookers asked me to take them to a swingers club free of charge.

Uh, well, actually, come to think of it, two hookers did ask me to take them to a swingers club this past Saturday night free of charge.  And I indeed took them.

More on that later, maybe.

As you know, my mantra – and one of the first things I told you – was to shave your balls.  However, compared to me, Rodney Dangerfield was feared, so I like to cite other sexperts when I dispense advice.

Tomorrow, “She’s Out of My League” opens in theaters nationwide, and essentially provides that same advice, but I panned it, and you probably won’t see it, so I’m calling in someone else with established sexpert credentials to back me up,  His name is Todd Crawford, and he’s 1/2 of the couple that operates swinger (“lifestyle”) website and one of swinging world’s sex party centrals, LoveVoodoo.com

Below, I have reprinted, in its entirety, and email sent out by Todd earlier this year enumerating 25 recommendations for single guys (or guys who have snuck away from their wives and girlfriends and showed up at a swingers party or club alone)  to enjoy the swingers scene – the same scene that, a few weeks ago, Dan Savage negligently advised single guys they could not gain entry to.  As you can see, not one but two of Todd’s recommendations, #s 4 and 20, are that guys shave our balls – its so important, he repeated it.

As I just wrote on February 22, a female Goldman Sachs Partner, Addy Loudiadis was behind the fraudulent scheme to defraud the world financial community concerning the level of Greece’s debt.  I wrote, “unless the conspiracy theorists are right, and Goldman is above the law, it can’t be long before Goldman starts paying more of a price for shit like this.”

Prior to the Greece debt-scandal, Goldman was increasingly seen as having too much influence and, in effect, operating the United States Department of Treasury as a division of the company.  The Greece scandal, however, was of a different nature – more fraud than influence.

The chickens are already coming home to roost.   Just days after my post, in what The Wall Street Journal labeled an “unusual disclosure,”, Goldman, for the first time, noted in its annual report that “adverse publicity” is a “risk factor” it was required to disclose to investors, stating that it “could adversely affect our businesses and results of operations.”  For those, like Nicholas Kristof as well as some broads who have been scapegoating guys for Wall Street’s downfall and insisting that the Street hire more women, the Loudiadis/Greece scandal is an embarrassment.

But its been a lot worse for Greece: