A Testimonial: Tell us your V-Day horror stories and WIN!, WWIINN!!, WWWIIINNN!!!

I believe in providing examples when trying to convince people to do things like sending me photos of their naked lady bits, lending me money or writing for my award-winning* Had a Few Beers blog.

Regarding the last bit, the writing bit, did you know we have a contest going on right now?

A contest with actual prizes?

Yeah, we totally do.

We want you to send us your funny Valentine’s Day story. If you do it, I will send you a HAFB’s Beer mug.

I said “I” and not “we” up there because the other fuckers who work on this blog won’t send you shit.

I’m your only real friend here, remember that.

... and these. These are also your friend

… and these. These are also your friend

Anyway, I totally mean it.  If we publish your story I will send you something from the HAFB’s Cafépress Store.

Don’t believe me?  Here’s a testimonial from former guest writer Thor.

As one who enjoys HAFB, there may come a time when Todd “graces” you with an invitation to guest write.

There are opportunities in life that you must not turn down: Beer bonging at a frat party, oral in a bar bathroom, riding nude through Kanye’s green-screened universe.

But Todd’s offer to write for HAFBs? Turn that shit down.

Todd promised me fame and riches. Terms like “speaking engagements” were tossed around like they were commonplace!

Very quickly I realized those things were not going to materialize.

Still, I was excited when I came home one day to find a HAFB’s gift box. I opened it with anticipation.

Cashmere?

Crystal?

Pure Columbian coke?

No.

I got shorts — as in underwear — with the subtle HAFB’s cock-and-balls logo across the ass.

Todd’s cruelty did not end there.

See, Todd knows me in real life – he knows I’m built like a German peasant. The underwear wouldn’t even fit over one of my thighs. In fact, I think Todd’s DVD collection has warped his idea of ass size. I’m talking Thai lady boy ass size here,  folks.

So I got shafted, and not in the good way.

With nothing left to lose, and desperately wanting some pay off for the hours I watched TMZ while claiming to write for HAFB, I asked Todd to “make it worth my while.” He sent me a picture of balls; he said they were his.

It was the final insult, because I know hamster balls when I see them.

Photo credit: Who the hell knows.

Photo credit: Who the hell knows?

So it’s really just that simple!

Send us your best Valentine’s Day story no later than Feb. 10th (We’ve extended the deadline) and you’ll be famous. I’m talking book deals, multiple speaking engagements, a lunch of Thai fried rice with Condoleezza Rice** and free HAFB’s swag .

What’s cooler than that?

* HAFBs has never won an award.

** Winners will receive nothing but the HAFBs  mug and lunch with Condoleezza Rice***.

***  Condi, if you’re reading this call me please, I totally need to ask a favor!

Call me!

Call me!  Country Code 49, then 151 400 33 094. I’ll be nude when I answer, just so you know.

 

Editors Note: Todd also sent me some HAFB swag. I got a sweatshirt emblazoned with the HAFB logo, which my son promptly announced looked like dick and balls.

I was excited about the sweatshirt until I opened it. It was a 3X.For your viewing pleasure I’ve included a photo of me holding the aforementioned sweatshirt. I think it’s just gonna be a bit too big.

What the fuck is wrong with him? ~ Fran

I have mad Photoshop skillz.

I blanked out my face, but left those calves, slippered feet and the stray sock on the ground behind me, untouched. You’re welcome world.

 

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