Yes ladies, you read the title right. I, Fishman, am looking for a girlfriend. Some of you may know me as the guy on this web site that bitches about embarrassing and/or pathetic stories from his past, or you may know me as the guy who writes about pornography. There is more to me than that. Did you know that I start talking like Sylvester Stallone when I get a girl into bed? It’s true! That’s only the tip of the iceberg, too! Consider this an advertisement for dating Fishman!

Good Looks

I am blessed with incredibly good looks. It’s really a miracle – when my mother was pregnant with me, the doctor said that I would have numerous facial defects (my mom snorted a lot of coke when I was still a growing fetus). When the doctor delivered me, he was quoted as saying, “I guess it could have been worse.” The facial defects were so minor, that my dear mom decided not to sell me to a South American drug lord for some premium Nicaraguan cocaine. My dad was upset – he was going to Studio 54 that night, but now he didn’t have any quality blow to snort off a hooker’s anus. How do you like the sound of that, ladies? I’m so good looking that my parents couldn’t find the inner strength to sell me for illegal narcotics!

A sketch of me by Kimberly, my 9-year old neighbor

Ethnic Spice

Ever wanted to date an Irish guy? How about a Romanian? Maybe a Pole? Well, look no further! When you date Fishman, you are dating a living melting pot of six countries rolled into one sexy package!

Isn’t that what defines America…at least what used to define America, before Christian evangelical psychopaths became the norm? I may be Jewish, but I have a little bit of Irish Catholic in my blood. So if you have qualms about dating a Jew – meaning that you’re from the Midwest – just remember that I’m 1/8th Irish. The Irish are good folk - they are in no way pugnacious and they rarely succumb to influential beverages. I also have the sharp mind of a Pole! This one time, I…uh…shit, what was I…uh…something about sharp? Knives? Me like knives. They fun to play with.

Large Penis

I don’t mean to brag, but at my bris, the rabbi had to use a machete. My foreskin was saved and eventually sold to some hippies. They used it as a tarp before the seagulls began nibbling at it. Most ladies say that the size of a man’s penis doesn’t matter, but to the rest of you that aren’t liars, I have to say that I am adequately endowed. Just listen to these testimonies!

“It’s the biggest I’ve seen, but keep in mind, I really haven’t seen that many.” –
My ex

“Slightly above average, I guess.” –
This old lady that works at a Chinese restaurant

“I should really write you a prescription for those sores.” –
My doctor

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!” –
Random girl that I flashed on the train

It’s getting pretty hard (no pun intended) to resist me now, isn’t it? Although my penis is fine, I must warn you that I lost one of my testicles in a freak kiln explosion. As a result, my sack looks a little lopsided. It may also cause me to involuntarily piss blood on you if we’re getting intimate, but you’ll get used to that. Consider it to be my “love ink.”

Humor

I don’t really have a sense of humor.

Style

Fishman has tons of style. My wardrobe of funny T-shirts and long sleeve shirts that I have owned for five years are beloved by all. If you date me, I promise to wear my torn-up casual khakis on every date. This is because they are my favorite pair of pants. The only time that I am not wearing them is because I’m washing them due to stain and/or smell. Why do you want to go out with a guy who cares so much about his clothes anyway? There is a scientific name for guys who are so concerned about their style: homosexual. I am a straight man with a straight man’s wardrobe: boxers, casual khakis, funny T-shirt, white socks with a golden tip, and New Balance sneakers. If you’re seen with me, everyone will know that you are dating a man’s man.

Personal Hygiene

I like to shower twice a day. Once for cleanliness, and again to just huddle naked and cry. I don’t brush my teeth. I prefer to rinse my mouth out with Mountain Dew Code Red and then pick my teeth with toenails that I have bitten off. You’re going to have to live with that, and you know what? I never had a cavity. Oh, and I don’t always feel like wiping after I go to the bathroom. As for you, please don’t burp in front of me. That’s just gross.

Dates

I hate paying for everything, so we’ll split the bill at the restaurant 90/10. I’ll pay the 10 percent because I’m not exactly working right now. You also have to leave the tip because I never carry singles and I hate breaking big bills. Come on - don’t be cheap. If we see a movie, I usually get up several times and mingle with other females in the theater who are by themselves. If you see me sitting next to a girl, and her head is bobbing up and down on my lap, she is simply giving me a blowjob. It’s not like it’s sex or anything. The same goes for anal. Stop being such a fucking prude.

Sex

I have some weird fetishes, but you will have to indulge me if you want this relationship to work. First, you have to wear a big red clown nose. Second, you have to call me “Mustang Jones” until at least an hour after the sex is complete. Third, don’t look me in the eyes when we are having sex. It freaks me out and I start to have spasms. Lastly, I prefer having sex in public, such as in libraries and supermarkets (preferably the pet food aisle). I just can’t get it up in a private setting.

Sacrifices

We come to the most important part. Since we will be in a relationship, you will have to sacrifice some things for me. First and foremost, I will have to sell you into prostitution. It’s nothing personal, but with the economy and all, I just need to be making some extra bucks on the side. Most of my former girlfriends were cool with it. It really isn’t as bad as it sounds. I operate the business from afar, so you’ll be dealing directly with Muddy Brown, my partner and your future pimp.

This is Muddy Brown and by no means a picture of a guy modeling a Halloween costume

It takes a while to learn how Muddy likes things done, but if you mess up, don’t worry. Muddy will simply “slap” you. And by “slap,” I just mean a simple open-handed connection to your face at a decent speed. It’s really nothing. In fact, it means that he likes you. It also means that I really like you. I trust you enough to have sex with other men for my profit. You can’t find solid trust like that anymore.

My ex-girlfriend Julie. She never listened to Muddy’s lecture on how to spot an undercover cop.

You may also have to take the blame for me sometimes. I conduct a lot of business, be it “drugs,” “weapons,” or “buying slaves from a Chinese crime family.” It attracts a lot of unwanted attention and I don’t want that attention. Do you understand me? I SAID DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, WOMAN? Okay. You will have to take the blame for your man. It’s only for the minor stuff, I assure you. Recently, I was busted selling some LSD to this elementary school crossing guard, so my ex-girlfriend Shira had to take the fall. I pinned everything on her, and did she mind? No. She understood the risks of dating me. What, did you actually think that she’s studying in London for 9 months? She’s in the same jail as Martha Stewart right now. She’s even Martha’s cellmate and bitch! In fact, Martha loves her so much that she offered Shira a job at her company when they both finish their sentences. It’s nothing but opportunity when you date me, ladies.

I’ll bet my Yahoo account will be overflowing with e-mail from the sexy women that read this article. Don’t worry – there’s more than enough Fishman to go around, and Muddy doesn’t mind if I give him several hoes at a time. Oh yeah, I also need a girl to take the blame for something. I kind of lit two federal judges on fire.

Questions? Comments? Love ink? E-mail Fishman347@yahoo.com