Top Secret Sex-Free Manwhore Diaries - Six

[MsFroggy]

Before we launch into this week's pitiful tale of woe, we would just like to humbly beg your forgiveness for last week's purposefully obtuse ramblings. As a group, we admit to being infused with equal amounts of misplaced elitist hauteur and high-flung but naive ideals of imparting wisdom through our offerings, which may at times cause raised eyebrows or perplexed looks of complete incomprehension. We get it. We're just so much smarter and there's no hiding that fact. Clearly, we need to find a way to feign some humility if we're to earn your undying devotion, so we're working hard on that task.

Take this week for example. One of our talented writers contributors who often has flashes of brilliance even brighter than is our group norm, which is no small feat if we may say so, came up with a clever way of obtaining this week's manly diaries of hypocrisy and stupidity. Her idea was sparkling and inspired in its simplicity, leaving us wondering why we never thought of it before with all this excellent brainpower at our disposal. Some of us were mighty jealous and resentful of her but that's neither here nor there.

The suggestion was this: Instead of sleeping with our source why not just ask the men directly to fork over the goods? The air in our Diary Headquarters pow-wow room was pregnant with hesitation and discomfort when she was done explaining that we've all been whoring ourselves out going to incredible lengths to acquire something that perhaps could be had just for the asking. Besides, we partied away all that PayPal cash, ayyyy, Tequila! were running low on cash.

So we did. A few phone calls later, during which we sank to new lows of condescension and insincere fawning, our fax machine was humming and the goods were pouring in like bad fiction from FOX News. Not only was no one obliged to take one for the team beg our contact Fleiss yet again but we felt smarter than we did for at least the previous six hours. Difficult to envision, we know.

If you weren't worshiping us before, you will now. Clap your eyes on these babies:

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Kiptyn:

Dear Book of Manly Thoughts,

So, yeah, final two. I really like Jilly, but propose? Seriously? I've known her just a few weeks. I know the craft services guys better. Why did I sign up for this show? Oh yeah, they promised me top two and a good edit. I'm a shoo-in for The Next Bachelor! Hell, I've gotten the run-hug-twirl thing down better than Elle Woods can do a bend & snap so it should be easy. BoMT, only to you will I confess that "Legally Blonde" is one of my favorite movies.

But before I sign any more weirdly blurry contracts, I need to ask the producers some questions. I seriously thought they were trying to kill me on the ropes course. Sure, that would have made a very dramatic episode, but I didn't sign up for "Wipeout" or a snuff film. I put on a brave face, but on that phone pole, my inner little girl was screaming "Get me down from here, mommy!" I just hope they edit out all our puking. I don't want Joel McHale to have even more material to work with than I know he already has.

Then again, maybe I really could be the final one. Hell, I'll propose if it takes me out of life-threatening situations, despite what my sister will do to me if I do propose. I need to go find where Ed's power charger is. If I can run down his internal computer battery, he'll fall asleep before the final rose ceremony even starts.

Love,

Kiptyn

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Reid:

Dearest Diary,

I know you are the only one who loves me now. Yes, these are my tears dotting your page and smearing my neatly written letters...sigh. If only had lied to professed my love to Jillian. I was trying to tell her with my eyes, but they failed me, obviously. Just like my lips - they teased her with laughter but were unable to form those special words: Jillian, I love you and always will until Fleiss tells me I don't have to any more. But common sense my lips betrayed me and I just could not do it. But still, I thought I made up for it in the bedroom. Afterall, rumors are that Ed couldn't even perform!

I am considering pulling a Jeremy. Fleiss has offered me untold riches and the next Bachelor series I feel I can convince her that I am really right for her (at least as far as the tabloids cover us, then I can dump her like Canadian moose pooh). What do you think, Diary? Can I pull it off?

Diary, please tell me I will always be your honeybear.

yours,
Reid

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Ed:

Diary,

What can I say? I'm better than a CES convention crossed with Macworld and multiplied by the entire Slashdot archive. When the ones and zeros were down this week in Hawaii and all I had to work with were her DOS prompt and my smarts, I hacked Jillian's shell account and managed to enslave her whole system. There will be no more denial of service attacks from this chick, I can tell you that much. Her whole root account is now putty in my hands. How great am I? Not only did I perform serious kernel level damage control by hauling my parental units all the way from their safe homes to Hawaii to meet Jillian - she had this bug up her registry that continuously spammed me with subliminal messages about how it's either parental approval or she's reformatting my hard drive - but the parental modules delivered, as usual, and it looked like Jillian and I hit play and were finally streaming live.

I did encounter an unpleasant operating system failure on our Fantasy night, though, I must say, the situation was beyond my control. I can't help it if I'm batting for the other team just not good at plugging into strange sockets in front of six cameramen and three hot stage lights. Jillian, who really updated her delivery methods with that white outfit she put on for me, was a bit miffed that my peripherals crashed at the wrong moment, despite copious helper applications of body oil, but I was determined to refresh her memory of our good times. Not that there were many filed away on her C drive - what with my deal with Fleiss our untimely server problems in Chicago and all that - but I had a USB stick on me full of goodies. In the end, USB stick or no stick, that date was a complete meltdown.

Why did she not delete me then? Was it because she had her own program running in the background? Now, that's what I call a rhetorical question. Must go now, circuits are getting fried.

Later,
Ed

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Disclaimer: While we hold these Diary pages to be 100% authentic in every way, should we get sued, we will deny any and all involvement with the contents, the method of procurement and any barely legal activities we may or may not have conducted in connection with them.

Many thanks to our fearless contributors: AshleyPSU, BritLit, iguanachocolate, lildago, Mariner, MsFroggy, PhoneGrrrl

[Google]

 

[I'msotired]

If you weren't worshiping us before, you will now.

I already was and still am. LOLOL I say you earned the right to embezzle and spend it on a mood-enhancer.

My two favorites:

I've gotten the run-hug-twirl thing down better than Elle Woods can do a bend & snap so it should be easy.

a bit miffed that my peripherals crashed at the wrong moment,

[nocalgal]

Ms Froggy your wit is sharper than a spear! The Elle Woods comparison and operating system failure were brilliant!

[MsFroggy]

Thanks!

Just to clarify though, I'm not the only incredibly brilliant, super smart and amazingly humble person in this bunch. Read the disclaimer!

[Debz]

This is brilliant, nice job lol.

[Pimento]

sigh these diaries are so much better than the show

[duckfarts]

Thank you !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Dancer27]

MsFroggy, this was over-the-top hilarious fun. Thank you so much for being brilliant. and talented. and creative. and . . . all that other stuff.

[Jano]

Great work this week....too funny!! Thanks!

[Krom]

Since I typically watch the first and last episodes, and just amuse myself with recaps and general press on the show otherwise, I'm debating whether to watch tonight's show or not. I mean do I REALLY want to hear about how many of these guys "ordinary girl" had sex with? Eek. Even "implied" it might be too much.