PLUG FOR MY NEW BOOK

          A QUICK PLUG FOR 
             MY NEW BOOK

But first, a few very important things you should know about how it all began.

In the beginning, God said, "Adam, I gave you that really nifty penis to use, not sit around and stare at all day. Now, get out there and poke something."

Adam replied, "Up yours, dude. These animals get really pissed when I try that stuff, and I'm not getting my ass clawed all to hell just so you can watch."

God thought for a moment. "How about I create you a bitch?"

"Cool," said Adam. "You make it; I'll poke it."

So, God created Eve and said, "Adam, this is Eve."

To which Adam exclaimed, "Wow! Look at those tits."

At this, Eve uttered a disgusted "Harrumph," turned on her heels, and stomped off to another part of the garden.

God, sensing trouble, hurried after her, and catching up asked, "Jesus, Eve. Why are you being such a twit?"

Eve replied, "Who's Jesus?"

God said, "Never mind. What I'm concerned about is you copping an attitude just because Adam appreciates a nice rack."

Eve began to cry.

"Christ, Eve," said God. "Stop with the waterworks."

Eve sobbed, "Who's Christ?

"Never mind," yelled God, getting a little flustered. "Look. Here's the deal. It's the beginning, right? This is the time I create stuff, so I created, well, you know… all the stuff. When it was all done I decided to put something alive in this snazzy garden I'd thrown together. So, I created a penis cause I thought it would be fun to watch it poke at things. I put it here in the garden, but it just lay there on the ground doing nothing. So I put some legs on it so it could get around, but it kept bumping into things, so I stuck a brain on top to show it where to go. That worked fine, and I named it Adam. Your job is to let it poke at you once in a while. Now, is that asking too much?"

Still sobbing, Eve asked, "But why is it such a pig, and how about a little romance?"

"Number one," replied God, "it's not a pig, it's a penis. Number two, well, sorry, but I didn't add any romance to it, only that poking instinct. That's really all it is, just a penis with a brain to point it towards something to poke at."

Pondering her options, Eve demanded, "Okay, I'll let it poke at me occasionally, but you have to let me run the world."

God said, "Uh, that'll be a little tough since it's bigger than you. But wait, I've got an idea. I'll put something really cool on you like... oh, I don't know... I'll think of something—something that will pretty much guarantee things will always go your way. How's that?"

Eve, now assured she would always be in control of the world and anxious to get started, agreed, then walked back to where Adam was waiting and said, "Hi there big boy! Gee, have you been working out?"

So, after all was said and done, everything worked out just fine. God's happy, Eve's happy and Adam thinks he's happy.

ON THE OTHER HAND - THE ALTERNATIVE

In the beginning, God created Adam and placed him in the Garden of Eden where Adam lived a wonderful, happy, fulfilled life. God, who obviously is a woman—since no man would have invented circumcision—became agitated at seeing Adam so happy, so she created Eve and said, "Eve, go down there and stir up some shit."

Now, Eve, being freshly created, and having no idea how to go about stirring up shit, asked, "How, exactly, do I do that?"

And God, who is no stranger to stirring up shit herself, answered, "Just be yourself."

So Eve went down to the Garden of Eden where, much to the dismay of Adam and all his descendants, she and all her descendants have been stirring their little brains out ever since. Not deliberately, of course, just "being themselves."

Although the story above is fiction, the female propensity for stirring is not. The woman's instinct to keep the air redolent with the smell of shit comes not from a vengeful, man hating, penis-envying, lesbian God, but from the fact that they're smaller than men, have less effect on their physical environment, and get pushed around all their lives. It's their way of saying, "I Exist!" It's the female version of Cogito Ergo Sum – "I stir shit, therefore I am." A strong man can move mountains, shape history, and rule worlds. But, unfortunately, man's majestic accomplishments often collapse under the weight of the unbelievable amount of shit a tiny little woman can stir up. A good example of this was the mighty Samson.... and little, friggin, Delilah.

Understanding the shit stirring instinct, and other bizarre female behavior, requires understanding how smaller organisms use rationalization to, figuratively, level the playing field in order to compete with larger organisms—in this case small women belittling large men in an attempt to create an imagined equality between the sexes. The small female's most obvious effort to affect the above is to corrupt the larger male's basic attitudes and needs by attaching nonsensical values to his actions and motivations. So adept is the female at stirring up shit that she can, in this case, stir where no actual shit exists.

The female's most effective attack on the larger male is to denigrate the male attribute she covets the most: his penis. By attaching frivolous relevance to that most envied object she attempts to deny the male at least one of his symbols of dominance. Creating such myths as ‘Men like guns because guns remind them of their penis’ is one such attempt to ridicule men's values, thus leveling the field. Women tend to think this is very effective although, in truth it is abhorrent—to say the least—for men to discharge, or even imagine discharging, large caliber weapons, especially those with substantial muzzle blasts, in even the general area of what women secretly consider a magnificent organ.

So, the bottom line is, the next time you take a date to your favorite biker bar, and she starts getting that glazed look on her face... you better get the hell outa there before she starts to stir.

Now that we have an idea of what we’re up against, let’s move on.

...BUT UNCLE JOHN, WHAT IF I'M GAY?

In the interest of accuracy, Uncle John asked a lot of gay people to help out with the subject of getting gay dates. They all said, "fuck off" ...except for one transvestite biker named Dede, who proved to be very knowledgeable on the subject. Uncle John couldn't find any lesbians who would cooperate, so you girls are on your own, which doesn't matter since Dede says that most women are a wee bit 'bi' anyway.

Dede says, the most important thing is to make sure you are actually gay before going out to look for dates. Dede says, being with another guy, in bed, naked, on your knees, is not a good time to look over your shoulder and say, "You know what? I don't think I'm gay after all." It's rude and extremely disappointing to the guy behind you.

Dede says the following can help you determine if you are really gay:

Do you like Quiche?

Do you wear a fanny pack?

Have you ever said the word, "Moi?"

Do you carry a bottle of water around with you?

Do you wear tank tops after dark?

Do you change your underwear every single day?

Do you honestly think a man and a woman can be "just friends?"

Do you drive a PT Cruiser?

Do you have a dog that requires professional grooming?

Do you put that blue-colored stuff in your toilet?

Do you sip alcoholic drinks from a straw?

Do you like Kenny G?

No shit, do you really like Kenny G?

Do you have a cowboy hat but no cow?

Do you pay 4 bucks for a friggin' cup of coffee at Starbucks?

Do you go around acting macho and calling people faggots, queers and screaming queens?

Dede says, if you answer "yes" to any 3 of the above, you're probably gay and are reasonably safe in pursuing your gayness.

Now that you have determined that you are actually gay—as opposed to just enjoying an occasional colonoscopy—you should move to Key West. Everybody there is gay, and finding dates is much simpler. However, even in Key West there are some places that are not good for finding gay dates, like Lamaze classes, monster truck rallies, etc. Incidentally, don't go rushing off to Holland... that "finger in the Dyke" story has absolutely nothing to do with the subject.

Actually, truth be told, there is no 'Dede, the transvestite biker' and Uncle John doesn't have a clue as to how to go about getting a gay date... unless... well, ...you might try hanging around the showers at the health club... but, good luck anyway.

P.S.

If you are gay and would, seriously, like to offer some, humorous but helpful dating advice to others (since Uncle John, being very wise in every other way, is a little untutored on this subject), email Uncle John at: good_old_uncle_john@askunclejohn.com

(it would be a real plus if your name happened to be "Dede the transvestite biker").

That's all you get. Buy the book at amazon:

 SNEAKY TRICKS for snagging dates and meeting people