When someone asks me about my worst hookups, I have plenty of stories. Believe me. I could talk about awkward, disgusting, annoying one-night stands all day. But I always end up repeating the same story. The one where I end up triggering some hippie broad, arguing with her on the way to the bedroom, and waking up devising a silent exit strategy out of her apartment in the morning. It’s not that I didn’t have fun fucking her. It’s just that her septum piercing and Subaru Forester (complete with a FEEL THE BERN bumper sticker) both had me nauseated.

Most septum-pierced, Subaru-wheelin’ sluts I slayed were easier to deal with in the days before Trump’s glorious pussy-grabbing scandal. None of the political stuff really bothered me back then. Now that the election is over, and my ex-girlfriend refers to me simply as “that white supremacist she used to fuck,” things have gotten tedious. That ex, by the way, contends my only attraction to her was the “power” I had over her as a Hispanic woman. Not the fact that she had an ass sculpted by angels or anything. It’s easy to call bullshit on the power thing because I’m actually intimidated by Hispanic chicks. At least this one. She took a rock to my car and slashed my tires. Can’t say I’m surprised—she’s Puerto Rican.

Since the end of that relationship, I’ve been trying to land a nice conservative girl with a brain. But I seem to only attract beautiful lefty zombies who eat brains for breakfast. It’s probably my long hair. I’ve never been one to do something for other people in that department, so I don’t cut it. Plus the fact crazy liberal chicks are often great lays.

There’s nothing better than schooling a Hillary supporter as to why their candidate belongs in prison, ending up back at her place, banging, whispering in her ear, “That’s why we won,” during her inevitable climax, and then arguing your way into your clothing and out the door. It’s quite the experience.

Next time you’re arguing with a girl about politics, just interrupt one of her long drawn-out rebuttals by asking, “Can we stop talking politics and just get to know each other?” My opinion: if she wasn’t into you, she wouldn’t have talked to you in the first place. And If she doesn’t continue the conversation, she ain’t worth your time. Plus you’re probably dodging a bullet. If you can get to her place rather than yours, that’s better because it’s easier to leave. Just go right back into arguing about Trump’s ties with Russia, and get your ass out of there.

Courting her like a gentleman and showing her a good time in the bedroom could spell disaster for you in the long run. Especially if you’re the one-night stand kind of guy. I’m not saying don’t do those things. Just be conscientious of your actions. Luckily, my Puerto Rican redneck friend from Upstate New York let me in on a secret that I’ll share with you proud fuckers:

Only give’r half.

Now I know that seems a bit much. But you can’t just go around willy-nilly throwing every lefty chick a solid full bang. If they’ve been sleeping with beta cucks all through college, they probably haven’t experienced an interesting evening—let alone an orgasm. Don’t be the guy who totally changes their life for them.

Or go ahead, what do I care? You’re the one whose car is getting keyed. If you want the ride of your life… jump right in. Help yourself. Just make sure you have an exit strategy.

Truth is, I’m not prejudice toward pussy. I love all women. The problem is that at least half of these beautiful creatures are brainwashed into believing Donald Trump is the reincarnation of Hitler. So I’ve decided that by showing them the ways of the wang, I can maybe help reverse years of indoctrination. I know it’s drastic, but I’m willing to try anything to help them see reality. This has proved harder than expected [Editor’s note: That’s what she said].

And here I am, still banging Hillary supporters.

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