TOP 5 COCK BLOCKERS of ALL TIME

5. AC Slater

Everyone knew Zack was bound to smash Kelly Kapowski from day one. Those two seasons or so when he competed HARD for her were the reasons he won “Hater of the Year” in 1990.

4. TMZ

Think of the greats who have had there money train derailed by the tabloids. Kevin Federline, though he wasn’t the first but probably the highest profile rags to “digging out cash so please don’t fuck this up for me” of the decade. Someone owes Stedman Graham a cool BILLION dollars of that Oprah. Think of all the would-be husbands of Liza Minnelli or Cher or Elizabeth Taylor. All those potential “ho to housewife” stories we missed out on are because of tabloids.

3. The Catholic Church

Quite possibly the largest conglomerate of cock blockers ever assembled, they’re notorious for denouncing anything fun or entertaining that's ever been contemplated. Technically, any sex other than that performed in the missionary position by a married couple minus all forms of pleasure condemns you to an eternity in a Lake of Fire. That means “heaven” is NO PLACE I want to be. Seriously speaking though, the church is sexual repression in its most organized form. They’ve been giving would be slides excuses to not smash since… well Constantine.

2. The Clingy Ex- Girlfriends

It’s over. We no longer speak. We haven’t touched each other in months but you feel like we have unfinished business whenever someone else is showing me love. Really? Very original asshole. Why is it that you feel we need to talk when she’s sitting on my lap?

1. The D.U.F.F.

When I was working at a gym in Houston, my life revolved around flirting with the new members. There was one in particular that I hit it off with almost immediately. Since Houston was still a semi-foreign country to me, she invited me to go drinking with some of her friends. Southern hospitality is the shit by the way. I recruited a wing man and we both drove over to a bar in downtown Houston. We get there a bit late and the girls have been drinking for a while now.

There were 3 of them, the young lady I was speaking to and her roommates. I don’t remember their names but there was a cute one and the “not so cute at all” one. (Side note: What’s with there always being one not so attractive friend amongst a group of overall hot friends? Is there like a quota that every group of friends has to fill like they regularly get investigated by the NAACP for discrimination? Why is it that this friend always has the most influence? Why do they always feel more important than everyone else? They are always the ones saying shit like “I’m hungry.” or “This party is wack.” or “My feet hurt, when are we leaving?” At the same time, we outsiders can’t piece together why the fuck they’re there in the first place. Also, the reverse happens a lot where there are a shit load of fugly chicks in a crew and one extremely smoking hot friend, but I digress) Well our “not so cute friend” commences to drink as if the elixir for her “ugly ills” is in each shot of patron. I’m watching the carnage unfold hoping and praying she has an extra liver or that the excess weight gives her an ability to metabolize liquor faster so she doesn’t ruin the evening. I learned on this night, there was no god.

Despite the now drunk ugly fat friend (commonly known as the DUFF), we were all having a good time. I was definitely getting the “this night will probably end in a sex” symbols. My boy is getting love from the cuter friend (who shall be referred to as CF for the duration of this post).The DUFF is even getting play by the bar. That is, of course, until she throws up. The ladies quickly run to her rescue while the bartender orders her out and I begin to prepare for the worst.

They all live together and thankfully the DUFF didn’t drive, so they throw her in their car and tell us to follow them. The plan being once we get there we “figure out what to do next” which translates to “this is your chance to smash it out the frame.” We get to the apartment and there are 3 bedrooms. SUCCESS. We walk in and I chill on the couch. The girl I'm talking with is in the bathroom with the DUFF holding her head as she throws up; my boy and CF exit stage left to her room. Half hour later, the DUFF is led to her room where she is put to bed. My girl comes into the living room and apologizes. I say it’s cool, glad I could chill with her blah blah blah. We start to make out, make it to her room, close the door and right as my shirt comes off KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK at the door. It’s the DUFF’s drunk-ass talking about there are demons in her room because she hears howling. It was actually my boy and CF. We both assure her that there are no demons and tell her to go to bed. Then she asks for water. So my girl brings her water to her room and closes the door. She comes back to the room and we start up again and again KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK at the door. This time Chantel’s doesn’t stop, I don’t either. That is, course of, until we smell the wretched stench of vomit. The floor was wall to wall carpeting, by the way. My girl puts on some clothes opens the door and accidentally hits the DUFF in the face with the door. The DUFF starts to cry and I spend the rest of the night helping this girl clean up the puke by her door.

Thomas Jefferson, author of the Declaration of Independence wrote, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” The reason why cock blockers suck so bad is because they impede on all the above. I should have the liberty in this life to the pursuit of what makes me happy. You blocking my happiness, impedes on the rights granted to me not just because I’m an American, but as a citizen of the world. We as a nation, determined to live the lives our forefathers intended, minus the whole slavery thing, must stand up and say NO MORE will we allow you drunk bitches to fuck up our nights. NO MORE will we allow you former lovers to keep the “P out of the V” because you can’t stand to see someone else happy. NO MORE will pseudo religious, ritualistic sexual repressions keep you from knocking any boots. NO MORE will the throngs of haters looking to change the perspective of your naïve, yet rich lover be successful and banish you to VH1 reality stardom… And oh yeah, FUCK AC SLATER.