Well?  Are you?  Do you even know what a “mangina” is?  Ah, if not, you need an introductory lesson in Idiot speak.  Idiot speak is a male-dominated language that is usually used in male bonding situations, especially when alcohol is involved.  Knowledge of this language is critical if you are to survive within this cutthroat environment and, if you become skilled enough, crush your friends by insulting their manhood.  Lesson #1 (Degrading your buddies):

Mangina = Term for your buddy when he has left his balls at home, voluntarily or no; especially if his wife or girlfriend has his balls in her purse.  Evidence of being a mangina is a mild case of “vaginitis” (see below).

Asspussy = A large step beyond being a mangina resulting from a severe case of “vaginitis.”  Basically, when your buddy is being an asspussy, he is acting so pathetically that you wouldn’t be surprised to see him riding bitch on the back of a Harley or outside his house picking daisies.  This term is derived from prison (male facility) and the special type of love practiced therein.

Vaginitis (aka AJ’s Disease) = In short, trading in your sack for a box of Tampax.  You:

o    drink daiquiris during happy hour;

o    mysteriously disappear from the bar around midnight (like Cinderella) without telling your friends “goodbye” for fear of ridicule;

o    trade in your jeans and casual shirt for an all black ensemble of slacks and a tight-fitting shirt (Dieter look – from Saturday Night Live fame);

o    date girls for weeks although no one but you can prove they exist;

o    cannot bring your dates around your friends for fear that they will expose your vaginitis or whisk her away with their overpowering masculinity (in comparison to your own).

Meat Gazer = Identifying your buddy’s disturbing habit of making comments regarding the packages of other men.  He may try to disguise his affinity for the male organ by making derogatory comments of the subjects of his interest (“Did he paint those pants on?”  “Look at that guy adjusting himself!”), but you know what is really going on.  Don’t worry, this is usually a temporary affliction brought on by having to watch too many “chick movies” while trying to secure the booty of his latest female companion.  Once the booty is given up, he will turn back into the crude jackass that you know and love and this disturbing action will subside (Of course, his new girl will also drop his ass after he returns to normal).

          Enough for now.  You need time to digest this lesson and put it to use.  One word of caution, make sure that none of these terms fits your behavior before you introduce them to your friends for obvious reasons.  Of course, if you find these terms and their definitions offensive, you certainly aren’t expected to introduce them to your friends.  I hope that I haven’t offended anyone but, if I have, I express my deepest regrets... Mr. Mangina.    
 

Idiot Sighting:  Slithy Toves, Dallas, TX – Ah, finally…an idiot sighting that I witnessed firsthand.  It really was only a matter of time considering my choice in company – and my own outlandish behavior.  This one goes out to Slithy on what, I believe, was his farewell binger in Dallas.  Slithy was tying one on with yours’ truly and a few of the other DOGZine contributors and readers on a Friday night a few weeks back.  Slithy was in good form as he was already slapping full drinks out of our hands and giggling gleefully as the drinks met the floor, made a crashing noise, and showered us all from the waist down.  Although oblivious to the scene that he was creating, the rest of us prepared for the worst as we realized that Slithy had leap-frogged us into the Spirit World.

          His drunken mind then latched onto the notion that we must visit a “freaky” bar on the outskirts of downtown Dallas.  Although uninspired to follow, The Whipping Boy, our DOGZ cartoonist, and myself felt obligated to accompany Slithy to try to ensure that he wouldn’t be beaten senseless when he pulled some of his “tricks” at the next bar.  A quick taxi ride later, we arrive outside a divey-looking bar.  Surprisingly, it is Friday night at about midnight, there is not a soul waiting to enter this establishment (Slithy’s choice in bars comes into high suspicion).  Regardless of the near instant entry time to the bar, Slithy has decided that he must relieve himself of used alcohol.  Thus, while the rest of us present our IDs and enter the bar, Slithy relieves himself on the bar façade in plain view of the doorman who is allowing us to enter.  Not too surprisingly, Slithy is denied entrance to the bar when he zips up and saunters to the bar door.

          After being notified that our friend will not be allowed to join us in the bar, we reassemble our party back outside with young Slithy who is mumbling something about people being too uptight, etc.  Our quick attempts to show the logical progression between urinating on a bar and then being denied entrance to it fall on deaf (and more significantly, drunk) ears.  Ah, but Slithy is nothing if he is not resilient.  Off we trudge, a couple of blocks further into the seedy fringe of downtown Dallas.  The two bar options that present themselves look like cock farms, so we dejectedly start retracing our steps.  Surprisingly, Slithy is in relatively good spirits and is talking about checking out the bar up ahead.  The rest of the party is a bit befuddled by Slithy’s statements as we are walking back to the same establishment that witnessed Slithy’s break from social standards with respect to bathroom etiquette.

          Something should have triggered a warning signal in our heads when Slithy kept asking where we were (the obvious answer:  the same place we were 10 minutes before) and things looking unfamiliar.  As we approach the first bar, urine stain still visible on the wall, Slithy starts heading to the entrance.  Our protests are futilely offered as he stumbles up the stairs.  Once again, our drunkenly stupid friend is denied entrance.  He seems angered and not a bit incredulous that the same “dumb bastard” that denied him entrance before seems to be stalking him and blocking his entrance to all bars.  A ½ mile walk down to Deep Ellum, a few beers and shots, a taxi ride, a drunken rant by Slithy about the evils of the whores in Dallas, and a drunken phone call to his out-of-town girl later, Slithy is mercifully put down for the night.  It takes the light of day and a relatively sober Slithy to be able to successfully explain to him that he had, in fact, returned to the same bar that he had earlier defiled a mere 15 minutes after the fact seeking entry and had not, as he remembered it, traveled to another (surprisingly familiar) bar in the area.  As such, this would explain why he ran into the same individual who barred his entrance to the first bar – thereby destroying his Dallas conspiracy theory against dork-wielding drunkards.  Oh Slithy!!  I love you as a brother but you can sure be an Idiot sometimes.  I guess the mystery of our friendship is solved.  Good luck in Washington, my friend.

Until next time, The Idiot