The Lives of Bryan

My friend Jodi B. e-mailed me today. She recently moved to Dallas to be with her boyfriend Bryan. Bryan is a guitarist in a black metal band and his band played a gig at which some members of Pantera attended & Bryan and Jodi got to hang out with Pantera afterward. While not a Pantera fan, she was excited because it's as close as she's come to hanging out with someone famous and she was bummed because she had no one tell who would know who Pantera are... then she remembered me. Anyway, that has nothing to do with what I'm posting. The point is, she's dating a guy named Bryan. Hearing from her got me thinking about all the Bryans I know and how INSANELY lucky they are with women. I mean, Jodi B. ain't a bad bit o' woman to have the loyalty of. Then there's stitchedsutures who has been taken off the market due to a Bryan. And it should only take about five minutes on my Friends page to figure out that she is a damn fine catch.
My college roommate was named Bryan, and while he was by no means a promiscuous person, he certainly never lacked for girls sighing after him. Why he chose to marry the hag he's married to elludes me. Rumors even abound of a Bryan here in KC who is possessed of a cock 17" in length and the diamter of a football, if megiloth's secondhand tales are to be believed.

Folks, I'll admit my methods of acquiring data are not scientific, but the numbers I'm seeing do not lie. Having the name Bryan gets you laid. Period. I think you know where this is going. That's right, from henceforth, I shall be called Bryan. Did you hear that, ladies? My name is Bryan. Dig me!