1) They’re slow. Not just physically, but mentally. And Isn’t it every mans dream to hook up with an incredibly out of shape ‘tard?

2)They practice even more lax hygienic standards than I do, making me look like a Goddamn socialite in comparison.

3) You even seen a Sloth from behind? Damn. No, for real. Google “Sloth Booty.” It’s so frickin’ hot. It’s like if Angela Lansbury stopped shaving and just got freaky.

4) Let’s face it, we’ve all wanted to do a Wookie, but that’s just suicide. Sloths are a far safer alternative, and have been scientifically proven to be 90% as sexy.

It was the summer of ‘09. I was a mere poof of a man, barely filling out my ass-less chaps and biker mustache. I had decided to be abducted by Somalian Pirates and get dumped in the middle of Goddamn no where when they realized I didn’t have a penny to my name.

“FUCK YOU!” I yelled cheerfully as my comrades drove off with my watch and right pinky finger to mail to my government. They playfully fired one of their AK-47’s in my general direction, but luckily the starvation and environmental poisoning had reduced this particular marksman to a shell of a man who missed me by about ninety degrees and a quarter of a mile. I briefly toyed with the idea of heading back into town to show them why I belonged to the master race and they fucking sucked, but decided against it when I remembered the terrible, terrible sodomy. So I turned around and started marching west.

I stopped for food about 64oo miles later near Brasilia, tired and salty from swimming for the last 87 days, and that’s when I saw him… her… it. The fucking sloth. My first and only love, Gary-gina. Gary-gina (I called it GG for short) looked up playfully from it’s pile of leaves with a come-fuck-me look in his eyes that I hadn’t seen since that horrifying experience in Somalia nearly 6 months ago.

“Come here often?” I asked as I dropped my pants and took the remains of my luck condom out of my wallet. “You know, I’ve used this condom for the first time on everyone I’ve ever made hump to.” GG looked coyly at me, as if to say he didn’t mind that I had defeated the very purpose of a condom and that the zoo officials coming up behind me wouldn’t either.

“Senhor, eu vou ter de lhe pedir para colocar as calças e pisar fora do habitat preguiça.”

“Oh yeah?! Well fuck you too buddy! You can’t talk about GG that way, I’ll piss in your eye!” I took my emergency bottle full of urine and tossed it at the swarthy salsa dancing son of a bitch (it’s the one shot they never expect.)