Show me a dude with a musical instrument in his hand or even a spray can and I will show you at least 50 girls who would remove their left lung for a night on his arm and a bit of ‘how’s your father’.  Dude, you don’t need a big dick, to be famous is to have an aphrodisiac so powerful that just with a strum of your guitar strings, a flick of the paintbrush or a scratch on the turntable will pretty much remove her knickers from a mile away.

But you see, these girls are not interested in you because of your brain, your talent or even your money. Hell, you could have a penis the size of wasabi pea and chicks would hail at it like it was made of chocolate and it was that time-of-the-month.  When you are famous, or even well known, you have an air of unattainable about you.  That sir, is crack to ladies.

Nothing quite soothes the angry, rash-like low self esteem in a woman like the attention and affection of a man who seems like he could have anyone he wants.  “What? Out of all these Double D nymphos you chose me?!” So it’s not you they want, it’s the feeling of self worth they acquire by mere association.

“So what?” you say. Yeah mate, say that to Elvis. Look what ended up happening to him… I bet he has been reincarnated as a hamburger. Do you guys want to be a hamburger? With success comes notoriety, then comes the cash, then come the women. Hey I’m not saying don’t take advantage, you would be stupid not to.  If they want to strap a mattress to their back then that is their choice. My point is this, what you gonna do when your band goes Axl Rose on your ass? When you are a has been DJ or an artist that wasn’t lucky enough to join the 27 club? What then, hmm?  Relying on your persona rather than your personality is only going to get you so far in life. Sure, you’ll be knee deep in pussy but not the kind you want to grow old with or will give a shit when some new little up-and-comer is on your coat tails.

The male ego is as predictable as the female self esteem.  A little nurturing and a bit of stroke and before you know it, you’re bumping uglies. LUCKY YOU! What a wonderful, fulfilling, moral way to go about your business.  It’s all fun and games until someone gets herpes or worse, pregnant.

So my message to you is this dear gentleman: If during your conquests and mentally unhinged groupies you find a lady of substance, someone who is more than just a sex aide with a pulse, a human whom you connect with, hold tight, because your wave will come crashing down as soon as your balls gets wrinkly and the kids move on.