It’s 4 something am. I’m tired. I’m semi-coherent. But most of all, I’m upset that I actually said I was going to limit myself to only targeting girls when they are drunk. How preposterous would it be to point out a single area of the female gender when I have so many flaws and material to draw from?
Now I’m no sexist, and guys are just about as asinine, but we take under 10 minutes to get ready. Including shower. Oh, and I’ll spare anyone any references to anything like Descartes again. Apparently relating alcohol induced social behavior to philosophy is not Beavis and Butthead enough for mass comprehension, so I’ll just talk out of my ass. Here’s a random assortment of shit that bothers me about girls, trite as some may seem, this is my list so go to hell.
I’m not gonna lie, I haven’t gone to the bathroom with a guy at the same time on a long time, let alone while I’m on a double date and leave the two met-just-10-minutes-ago girls alone with each other sitting on the same side of the booth. So there I am (old story btw) on a double date, my girlfriend’s friend and her new guy of the week. Side note…she was a whore. And by whore, I mean dirty super hooker. She was the Alexander the Great of skanks. They retired her jersey. But I digress. I just meet this guy, and somehow we end up sitting guys facing girls, which is good because I suppose now my gf will be saved the constant obligatory hand squeeze I would have to apply every time her friend would utter something completely retarded. Needless to say, her hand would have ached.
Luckily both girls decide to go to the bathroom at the same time. That doesn’t bother me so much. What bothers me is the length of time it takes. Honestly, any girl can take me up on this I’m throwing down the bathroom gauntlet, I can go to the bathroom, sit down to do it, wash my hands, and be out of there faster than any girl. Why? Because when I go to the bathroom, it’s business time. What the fuck do you do in there? Are you building a time machine? Because if you are, I could really use it to go back and convince myself this would be an awful goddamn date and go watch an episode or two of My Name Is Earl instead.
But fortunate for me while they were in the bathroom some friends of mine came in and noticed me…..sitting with only another guy……on the same damn side of the booth. I looked gayer than Rip Taylor in a confetti g-string. Lesson here? Pee before the date starts or invest in a catheter bag. And Rip Taylor probably looks awful half naked.
The telephone game. We all remember this, right? You say a sentence, then people change it around the circle and at the end you enjoy how funny it is that your original statement has so drastically changed. Well, in case most of you don’t know, most girls play the telephone game. By themselves.
If I had a nickel, nay a penny for every time a girl completely blew out of proportion and changed something I’ve said, I would actually laugh at tolls. If a girl comes up to me and says “you’re a phenomenal douchebag”, guess what? A week later a friend can say “what did she call you again?” and sure enough I could reply with phenomenal douchebag.
But, to use an example not of my own but quite recent to a dear friend of mine, girls, especially intoxicated ones, can go off the deep end. My good friend is in a fraternity and as such entertains the company of many a sorority girl with his many purchased friends. In such an instance, a “travel social”, they all drove to another city to drink and stay in a hotel, because of course there are no hotels or bars in Gainesville. Ass holes. Anyways, along this bus ride a guy says “everyone is gonna get so wasted, you know some brothers are going to get left behind” to which a goliath of a girl (goliath meaning even her fat was overweight) responded with “you hope some girls get left behind? That’s awful to say!” So she has a hearing problem. Great. Maybe if she stopped eating her feelings she could listen to what people actually say. To expedite the story, 2 hours later Big Joe Young is crying on the beach uncontrollably because one of the “brothers” had told her, “we’re gonna leave you behind and rape you”. Wow. Let’s analyze that Fatzilla.
To leave someone behind and rape them would entail having to stay behind to perform the rape. Besides, you’re on the beach, just moan a couple of times and an army of fellow whales will come to your aid. So anyway, now your rapist has been left behind as well, and lord knows when I commit a sexual crime I enjoy nothing more than making sure my transportation left me at the scene of the crime.
But let’s go ahead and move on to the major flaw of this rape scenario. Were I to have to defend myself in the court of law against a rape allegation from this girl, I would simply stand up, address the judge, and then point to the girl with a “come on….really? come on”. I’m not trying to be mean (complete lie) but she is also ugly. You know how you sometimes meet a fat girl and you always turn to your friend and say “but she has a pretty face” , as if there’s a pretty girl trapped in a fat prison? Well this is not that scenario. She is ugly and fat. That’s a bad combo. Supersized. With fries. This girl needs beer goggles just to masturbate. There are some things you just can’t believe, and a fat ugly girl attempting rape charges against a fairly decent looking guy is one of them. If a homeless lady told me someone stole her diamond tiara I would believe her slightly more than McFatty, but both are along the same logic.
Why my hostility? This poor guy is now brought up to an honor committee and his fraternity held responsible for the comments of this girl (who, for those of you who don’t watch the news, took Pluto’s spot as a planet) when no wrong was committed. This bedlamite of a girl managed to ruin a social engagement, blunder the relations between two Greek establishments, and still not get to Ben & Jerry’s before closing time. To all you other fatties out there, I love you.
And to anyone who takes offense, I don’t apologize. Sure you can come hunt me down, but just remember. I eat lightning and crap thunder. Bring it.
(I apologize for any extreme maundering or ranting but hell, 15 minutes isn’t bad for me and I’ll be damned if I edit or even try for that matter at 5 in the morning)
