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Dear Colonel Beaugus,
Your views are disgusting to say the least. You men think all you have to do to please a woman is bring home a paycheck and be able to get it up once a month after having drunk a six pack of beer and watched a rerun of Baywatch. I'm here to tell you that if you so-called males were to pay attention to your bodies and drink less than a six pack a night, maybe we women would be less inclined to employ those carrion-eating divorce lawyers you're so fond of cutting up.
I'll also tell you a little secret: We women want men who can keep it up for more than 30 seconds without either having an orgasm or falling asleep. A flaccid man is a divorced man. I suggest, Colonel Beaugus, that you have spent many a night telling your wife how tired you are. In reality, it means that you ate one too many pork jowls and drank one too many six packs of Bud to be able to get it up.
I also know that, being a man, you cannot (no matter how hard --I use the term loosely, as always--you try) resist the temptation of a woman. Men simply cannot because of the way their bodies are made. Blood goes from the brain to the penis, my friend.
I challenge you to a duel, Colonel Beaugus. A duel---the fair sex against, well, the grey-matter challenged sex. What say you? Do you dare to meet me and help me to prove hypothesis? I eagerly await your response.
Sincerely,
Kandi Kane Lipschitz
Dear Ms. Lipshitz,
Blow me!
Sincerely,
Colonel Patton Lee Beaugus
PS. I wouldn't meet you if you looked hot enuff to be on Barmaids, owned a pub, and promised the entire militia free beer for the rest of our natural lives. You are obviously just the kind of psycho bitch most of us are trying to get away from. I pity any man who would want to meet you.
BTW. If there is currently a Mr. Lipschitz, please give the poor sorry son-of-a-bitch our URL. He is going to need it bad.
Send in your own damn
Letter to the Colonel
TO: Oh Colonel, My Colonel,
FROM: Hanish Mrvca aka barjock@aol.com
RE: Fight Song Lyrics
I think you dudes got your balls hanging heavy, and I'm with you all the way to payday. But you need a fight song. So I wrote the lyrics for one. Any music dude who want to write the music, cool. And I just want to say -- fuck the Dixie Chicks, I'm with Earl.
Down On Her Knees
by Hanish Mrvca
On her knees.
On her knees.
Bring her down to her knees
Fight for your rights like the man that you are.
Fight for your house, for your kids and your car.
Fight her attorney, the judge and the courts.
Fight all her lies, her motions, and torts.
Fight 'til you die of of divorced man 's disease
Or fight 'til you've brought her down to her knees.
On her knees
On her knees.
Bring her down to her knees.
Yeah, that's where she belongs.
Down, down, down,
Down on her knees.
Fight for some justice like the hero you are
Fight for all men, for your place at the bar
Fight the good fight like a gentleman should
Fight 'til you've won, or you've lost your manhood
Fight until hell is ready to freeze
Or fight 'til you've brought her down to her knees.
On her knees
On her knees.
Bring her down to her knees.
Yeah, that's where she belongs.
Down, down, down,
Down on her knees.
TO: Potential Composers
FROM: Colonel Paddy Lee
RE: Fight Song Lyrics
I think these lyrics make a the right kind of inspirational statement for the corps. They make a picture in my mind that I kinda like. Right now nobody is writing music for Mr. Mrvca's ditty, but before you go to far on it, please email me that you are doing it, so I can post it, and you don't spin your wheels plinking piano keys when you could be doing something constructive like drinking.
Send in your own damn
Letter to the Colonel
To: Col. P. Beaugus
Married Mens Militia
in-nyc.com
Yo, Colonel!
It was interesting meeting you the other night. I didn't know you Militia guys were on the same site that is carrying my story. What a coincidence.
Thanks for buying the beers. Sorry about the ones I spilled on you. Sorry that I also can't remember more about what we said, but what the heck! I found your card on my floor a few days later and checked out that website of yours.
Woah, boy! I know from experience that there's a little kook in all of us, but I don't care where they put your stuff. IN-SANE or not, I think you're Right On! When I read your whole thing on Divorced Men's Syndrome, I nearly flipped out! No one I ever remember shooting the breeze with anywhere (and I've shot it a lot, with lots of divorced guys) ever had the smarts and the guts to spell it out like you did.
If I ever told you what SHE did to me (maybe I did), then you'd know why my life has been so fucking crazy the last couple of years. Why the hell do you think my friends started calling me "Dangerous" Dave?
Let's get together again sometime to talk about what it's like to be "close to the edge."
Regards,
Dave
Dear Dave,
Sure, I'm always willing to have a beer with a D-War vet. You did tell me quite a bit about HER. Oh, and after you sold your new vibram-soled post office shoes to the guy at the end of the bar, you did buy the last pitcher and at least two flamers, so I think we're about even. Next time, however, let's not fire up those shots. I singed my beard. And I didn't like what I saw in your eyes as you looked into the burning 151.
Best Wishes In Your New Job,
Colonel Patton Lee Beaugus
BTW. My friends can't help you with your buy. They suggest you stick to a fertilizer base.
Send in your own damn
Letter to the Colonel
Dear Colonel Beaugus,
My friend, Danny the Bartender, told me about your website. I checked it out one evening at home on the kids' computer. While I was surfing around, I started laughing. LOL time. I mean, I know there is information in there, but sometimes, you must admit, you are a bit absurd.
But that is not why I am writing this email. While I was chortling, my wife, Laura, walked in to see what the hubub was. And Laura started reading it. She did not think it was funny at all.
In fact, Laura started buggging bigtime. I am now neckdeep in the deep doo-doo.
I am at a loss. I do not know what to do. What do I tell her?
Sad Surfer
Dear Sad Surfer,
Obviously, the truth didn't work. And it is too late for lies -- even if I could think of any. My only suggestion is thirty minutes of abject apologies for being a douchebag who didn't know any better, followed by thirty minutes of oral sex. On her this time.
If that fails to head off her tirades, I think it is very possible you should quit reading our Battlesite for giggles and start taking what we are saying seriously.
Unfortunately, it looks like you may need it.
Paddy Lee
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