July 18th, 2015

By Austin B. Hahn

Dear Journal:

Fuck the gym! I decided to skip it and have sweets for dinner. Marie Antoinette once said, “Let them eat cake,” so I did. Besides, why am I staying in shape . . . so I can get good dick? Ha! I’m afraid that’s about as scarce as a good politician in this country. I’m so fuckin’ tired of looking good and some tired-ass-old bozo messages me on Grindr. Sometimes I don’t understand men. They want a hot piece of ass, but some of them don’t even have a good dick, so they try to compensate for it by driving a big truck.

The ones who really piss me off are the hypocrites. They’re the ones who want someone good-looking, but they themselves look like shit. When some guys message me, I just want to reply, “Have you ever thought about asking yourself this: would you fuck you? If the answer is no, then please do not send me a message, or come back to me after you’ve been consistently going to the gym three to four times a week for about a month and a half.”

This one goes to any woman who is reading this right now: raise your sexpectations! Do not let Tubby McTubbertin be your bare minimum standard of what a man should look like to you. Men are not supposed to have phantom babies. Ladies, you shave your legs, wear makeup, wax your pussies, and you don’t complain. The least he can do is go to the fuckin’ gym, and if he has money, then he can afford to fix himself up.

Anyway, I’m not done complaining.

I was recently at a wedding, which was awful to say the least. No one there was polite enough to ask, “Hey, Austin, so tell me your story about how you fingered someone in a taxi cab?” so, while I was there, I never once said, “Gee, thank you for asking.” My conversations didn’t expand beyond the dull question, “How are you?” which I can’t stand, along with several other phrases:

“I’m (nationality). I have a hot temper.”

Why do some people use their ancestry or nationality as an excuse to justify their bitchy behavior? “Oh I’m Irish,” or, “I’m Italian,” or, “I’m Cuban, and when the Cuban gets angry . . .” Hey guess what? I’m a human being, and I don’t give a fuck.

“Bless you.”

How come some people can say to a complete stranger, “Bless you,” but they can’t stick up for someone they don’t know who’s being physically attacked? This colloquialism exposes how insincere the English language is. Bless me? For what? Because I sneezed? It doesn’t make sense. In Spanish they say, “salud,” which, directly translated, means “health.” That makes sense. You’re sneezing. Maybe you have a cold. Maybe you’re falling ill. Who knows? The point is it makes more sense. I’m amazed that people can tell me, “Bless you,” for doing something as frivolous as sneezing, but when I volunteer at a foodbank, I’ll be lucky if anyone even says, “Bye and thanks for your time.”


This word has probably been used more than condoms. “Sorry” has become a social norm to use in everyday conversation in U.S. American culture, but no one means it! “Sorry, sorry, sorry!” Bitch, what are you sorry for? There’s even a game called “Sorry!” It’s ridiculous. People in the United States apologize for slamming the door, interrupting someone during a phone conversation, farting in public, belching at the dinner table, and the list goes on. The proper response, in these contexts, would be, “Excuse me.” On the contrary, if they were to get into a dispute with someone, the majority of them would be reluctant to apologize and say, “I was wrong,” because their egos are more important to them. This commonly, overused word also shows how superficial the English language is.

“Live every day as if it were your last.”

I cannot begin to recall how many divorced bitches I have seen who have an expression, such as this one, hanging up on a wall somewhere in their home. I can find the same quote on multiple Facebook and Instagram pages, “Live, Laugh, Love”, for instance, which I find funny because it’s usually posted by people who don’t do any of those things in actual life. What’s more, if everyone were to live each day as if it were their last, the world would be crazy. Would you want to see me twerking my fat ass on top of a table at McDonald’s or getting fucked by a sexy mailman in public? Don’t you tell me you would! Unless you’re a voyeuristic whore, you wouldn’t like to see what I do on casual Friday.

“Have a good one.”

What am I supposed to have that’s good??? A blowjob? A drink? A vacation? Be more specific. If you want to wish me a good day, a nice weekend, or a wonderful vacation, then say so.

“I’m good.”

When I ask someone, “How are you?” I want to know how that person is feeling. Being vague by saying, “I’m good,” tells me absolutely nothing. What is “good” to you? For some, “good” means they’re feeling happy while for others it means they’re as high as the Eiffel Tower. I understand there are certain social situations that require discretion, but if I’m asking how you’re doing, it’s because you’re a friend or a family member, and I care. I don’t ask people I don’t know how they’re feeling, which brings me to my final thoughts . . .

I’m not a car salesman or a pretentious asshole . . . well, at least I try not to be. Since I’m not getting paid to kiss anyone’s ass, I’m not going to pretend to be interested in somebody for the sake of small talk. I’m a passionate person, and I don’t appreciate false statements of well-being. With the exception of detached professionalism and avoiding disclosure in the business world, don’t come to me with your bullshit asking, “How are you?” when you don’t care. It’s annoying, and people rarely like to feel as if they’re talking to a robot. Connect with people by asking something genuine instead, and open yourself up.

We only scratch the surface in artificial conversations. When we share ourselves and we’re receptive to others through listening using non-judgmental body language, we create opportunities to form relationships with people we might’ve been looking for our whole lives. You could be talking with the love of your life, your best friend, your business partner who helps launch your career, or you might learn something from someone you wished you would’ve learned years ago. Take risks in communication. Approach someone with more depth than just, “Hi. How are you?” and you will discover how the power of your everyday communication affects your life.


January 14th, 2015

By Austin B. Hahn

Dear Journal:

Recently, I deleted my Grindr app on my smartphone which means that I won’t be getting laid. I did it so I can focus on school . . . and avoid herpes for the time being. I don’t miss it that much. I got tired of hearing the same old line.

Mediocre-looking-gay-guy-on-Grindr: “Hey what’s up?”

Me: “My dick,” (as usual.)

Why do men think that’s an actual conversation starter? There are lots of things that are up: the sky, the number of ISIS recruits, Mariah Carey’s skirt, but NOT Obama’s approval rating. Come on guys. Be more specific.

I don’t think I have been more bored in my life. I get up, go to school, come home, and then I go to bed. Repeat. I currently live with my grandparents while I’m going to school, who have been so gracious to take me in, and I love them, but I get BORED after hearing the same dialogue over and over. I am not complaining, but how great it would be to hear something new from my grandmother every once in a while.

(As I walk in coming home from school.)

Grandma: “Hi, Austin. How was your day at school?”

Me: “Oh hey, Grandma. I had a ‘good’ day. How about yours?”

Grandma: “Well it was going good, but then it got INTERESTING.”

Me: “What happened?”

Grandma: “I just found out that my good friend, Sheryl, has syphilis. She’s 65. Looks like you’re never too old to be a slut after all.”

Now who wouldn’t want to hear such words of inspiration? It’s not every day that you hear your grandmother basically say that you’re never too old to kick up your heels and have fun . . . unless you start farting, then that’s when it’s time to put the lube away. I am a firm believer that with all the plastic surgery and technology in this day and age, anyone can be a slut no matter how old. It’s great! Maybe one day I’ll even get to be in a Preparation H commercial when I reach senior ho status.

(In black and white film. I am sitting on a stool. The camera zooms in.)

“Hi. I’m Austin Hahn. I have had more men inside me than a strip club, and I’m proud to say, at 62 years old, I’m still going at it which is why I use Preparation H . . . the #1 hemorrhoid cream. It comes in handy for old whores like me!”

If Betty White is still around when I’m 70, then she better look out. With my ass in town, it’ll be so hot in Cleveland, the heat radiating from the city will give the old people in Pennsylvania hot flashes.