When I think of the ideal pilot, I think of a grey -aired ex-Air Force colonel who has spent more time in the air than I’ve spent watching Seinfeld. I know this guy will take me on a no-frills cruise at 35,000 feet. Nothing fancy, just a no-nonsense ride that gets his cargo where they need to go with minimal complications. He’s not much to look at, and probably has outrageously awful farts from his strict diet of peanuts and Chili’s Too. But he’s the best of the best, and I trust this pilot with my life.
But after seeing this Swedish pilot who is St. Elmo’s Fire flames-level hot, I’ve completely reevaluated what I want in someone flying me to all corners of the earth. Her name is Malin Rydqvist, she’s a 29-year-old pilot from Sweden who is based in Croatia, and she likes to post pictures of herself doing yoga poses in exotic places. And they’re prettayyyy prettayyyyyy pretty good. Remind me to start flying to Croatia more after you look at these photos.
I would do unspeakable things to show this girl my puddlejumper’s cockpit.
According to the New York Post, she has her own yoga clothing line called “Fly Me Yoga” and hopes to one day open a yoga resort. Smoking hot, flexible, AND entrepreneurial? Another example of how girls from Sweden are unparalleled..
Whenever a hot girl is in a relationship, there’s a bunch of dudes and “platonic friends” just waiting on the wing. The moment a girl leaves a relationship, she can’t even leave the house without getting dozens of dicks tossed at her. It’s like a severe dickstorm. Remember that shitty disaster movie The Day After Tomorrow? It’s like that, except with cocks and better cinematography (but for some reason Jake Gyllenhaal is still involved). There’s a cornucopia of corny horndogs waiting for a chick’s relationship status to change from “in a relationship” to “single” on Facebook so they can get in line to try to stuff her like the Thanksgiving turkey owned by a guy who likes to fuck cooked poultry.
That’s gotta be hell. I mean, breakups are already difficult and complicated in their own ways, but now this chick can’t leave the house without an umbrella to shield herself from flying hogs? Heartbreaking. Even if they wanna ruffle the sheets with these dudes, it’s logistically impossible to keep up with everything. With all the guys sliding into their DMs, the trillions of thirsty Facebook messages, corny pickup lines on tinder, and an art museum gallery’s worth of unflattering dick pics being sent to them until their phone explodes in their pockets… It’s just too many guys, not enough time.
So let’s look at it this way. When you’ve got a thing for a girl that’s already dating someone, it’s like you’re sitting in a waiting room. You’re just chilling, yawning and impatiently checking the watch on your left wrist while jerking it with your right hand. You’re killing time, scrolling through Facebook and Twitter, reading Time Magazine, googling “is Bruno Mars taller than 5’0″?” (Nobody knows; even Google just shrugs when you ask). You’re in a plain beige room sitting around with a bunch of other thirsty douchebuckets, waiting until her goddamn boyfriend leaves her office.
So, if we take my terrible, poorly-thought-out, corny-as-fuck waiting room analogy a step further, it leads us to this inevitable conclusion, and a perfect solution to this dickish douchebox dilemma: Every newly single female needs to have a secretary.
Think about it. They could hire secretaries to help get all their guy BS thoroughly organized and make life just a teeny tiny bit easier. If you wanna ask this girl out, you gotta go through her secretary first. It would have its own system. And sure, this secretary will cause tens, if not hundreds of painful cockblocks, but that girl wasn’t gonna hang out with you anyway so it doesn’t matter. It’s a necessary evil.
The situation would be a lot like a normal secretary scenario.
Guy: “Hi, I have an appointment at 5:30?”
Secretary: “Name?”
Guy: “Brian Johnson.”
Secretary: “Hmmmm…. Sorry, I don’t see you here. I have a note that says you’re ineligible because you post douchey gym selfies and your Facebook profile picture is a truck.”
Guy: “Damn. Can I at least TRY to set up an appointment?”
Secretary: “I’ll check. What’s your insurance?”
Guy: “Cigna.”
Secretary: “Sorry, she doesn’t take Cigna.”
Guy: “Can you just check one more time if my name is there? It might be under my rap name, “Lil Bry.”
Secretary: “Oh shit, you’re a white rapper too? Yeah, you need to go.”.
Emily Ratajkowski and Bella Hadid are currently vacationing somewhere beachy with other model friends and they’re putting on an absolute clinic on Instagram. Their beach vacations are nothing like yours or mine, by the way, with the constant modeling poses and spontaneous photo shoots and staged jet ski rides across the bay and all.
Your first reaction when seeing pics like this is how incredible it would be to go on vacay with these girls. Really hot models with seemingly photoshopped bodies walking around in tiny bikinis, plus there’s a jet ski. I don’t know, though. Maybe put the damn camera away for a minute and rip this tequila shot with me.
Such a Kardashian/Jenner move to try and be the center of attention on Christmas. But Kylie couldn’t let Jesus have his own day, instead releasing a short film, which I thoroughly enjoyed. It has the critics buzzing. They’re talking award season sweeps with this masterpiece.
It’s basically three minutes of her naked, smoking a cigarette, being wet, and staring blankly at herself in a mirror. Some call it smut. I call it art. Whatever it is, it’s pure heat.
To loosely quote Seinfeld, I sense great vulnerability. A woman-child crying out for love. An innocent orphan in the post-modern world. I see a parasite. A sexually depraved miscreant who is seeking only to gratify her basest and most immediate urges. Her struggle is women’s struggle. She lifts my spirit. She is a loathsome, offensive brute. Yet I can’t look away. She transcends time and space. She sickens me. I love it.
You can say a lot of things about me, but you can’t say I didn’t direct your attention to Kendall Jenner’s pierced left nipple on Friday, December 30, 2016.
