Chick Magnet

I have heard from good authority that our favorite Food Mooch has kicked off his widow(er) weeds, having made a speedy recovery from the recent passing of his last spouse and is prowling for fresh blood, actively seeking a female replacement. It is at times like this that I value the wedding ring upon my finger as at one time he proclaimed to his esteemed colleagues in maintenance that I was the “prettiest gal at the college.” *retches* My buddy “J” and I practically placed bets on how long it would take him to jump headfirst into the proverbial dating pool and it seems we were eerily close to the mark. According to this reliable source, he’s already found and is pursuing a new honey and to this guy’s utter astonishment, she’s not completely repugnant looking. Both he and another coworker decided to do lunch at her place of employment and reported watching slack-jawed at the considerable hand-holding and hugging display. Her lack of hideousness had them both admitting a serious consideration of her date material possibilities should either be free. (Though I don’t think this is a substantial "bar raise" for them.) Whether she becomes the fourth Mrs. Food Mooch is anyone’s guess but the sheer fact he’s managed to find any female who doesn’t recoil in horror upon meeting his Royal Nastiness just boggles the mind. As has been discussed before, this is the kind of guy that makes people scratch their head in puzzlement as to how he has managed to snag spouse after spouse with alarming regularity. I know they say there is someone for everyone but how has he finagled three someones to bed and wed him? Why are susceptible women drawn like flies to this fly-drawing excuse for a man? It’s not his money as he’s dirt poor. It’s not his looks because he’s repulsive. And he has a rotten temper. I’ve witnessed van door slamming, noisy arguments and loud bellyaching to invisible protagonists much to the consternation of onlookers. And let me enumerate a few more obvious flaws lest we forget:

He’s fat and smelly. He’s retarded. He’s cross-eyed. He picks his nose (and scratches his gigantic ass for all I know) before digging into whatever foodstuffs he can find. (Remember the frosting licking and pecan scarfing incidents?) And he’s been known to pick "delectable" morsels out of the garbage can. He’s not picky about what gender wants to pleasure him. He’s ill-mannered and uncouth.

After much speculation and debate, the only possible explanation any of us can come up with is that he possesses a massive schlong and is dynamite in bed. What else could it possibly be? Of course, that raises the dilemma of how anyone gets past the stench to discover this elusive diamond in the rough. All I know is if he were the last male on earth, I’d turn lesbian before I’d get within a country mile of Mr. Suave and Debonair. Yikes!