July 22nd 2013
Well what the shit.
I guess I never really noticed it.
At least not at first.
Why guys think we lady friends are batshit.
And how we have no idea.
Let me break this down:
The other day I was exchanging banter with my 100% male friends about their casual, manly habits as I graciously
s p i l l e d our top-secret of secrets with them, involving things like:
Having the incapacity of eating a normal amount of chips and salsa in one sitting
And then being like:
Homeslices agreed. In fact…a little too much.
They made a list.
Outlining the various tasks we lady tricks do on a regular basis that don’t make any goddamn sense!
How we think we look like this:
But really kind of look like this:
7 Things Girls Do That Make No Damn Sense
What on GOD’S GREEN EARTH is the fascination with fucking lotion?! Companies have convinced women that they need to buy 500 bottles of goddamn shimmery, slimy shit a year and apply it constantly or else the bathroom counters and cabinets will be all lonely and men won’t come near them unless they smell like a glorified dragon berry grape or some shit.
Thus causing women to ACTUALLY buy nonsense like the “eucalyptus honey mangrove” scent and expect dudes to notice.
LISTEN TO ME.
Not even mangrove-dwelling-beekeeping-koala’s know what that the fuck that scent actually is. Unless you smell like: A sports pub, fresh cut grass, engine grease, and the overwhelming bestseller, Frank’s Hot Wing Buffalo Sauce, I’m not going to have a damn clue as to wtf you’re wearing.
2. Calling yourself ugly.
One sec bitch is taking a selfie and posting it for the whole goddamn world to look at how great her face looks.
And the next second she’s all like:
AKA “JUST TELL ME I’M PRETTY”
And us guys are over here like:
As girls become women, (or claim to at least) this approach becomes more subtle. More efficient. More hidden. Fuxing up ALL SORTS of interpersonal relationships by adding their own meanings for shit like: “ZOMG I’m ugly” becomes “I wish I could pull that off” or “Omg she’s so pretty…”, or the coup de gras ultimate trap question, “So hey. how do I look?” Where every guy’s natural response to this question is:
But only because.
There is no right answer to this question.
And not in a million goddamn years can ANY cryptographic algorithm determine what men are actually supposed to say in response.
If we say “Yes” you’re all like:
But if we say “No” we sleep on the goddamn couch!
If we hesitate, it’s the same as saying no. And if we don’t hesitate that means we didn’t take time to look!
And the bullshit goes on and on.
3. Paparazzi maniacs
Go to Facebook and pick 5 random chicks.
Check their total number of photos.
Subtract about 6,000 from that.
Now pick 5 straight men and check their totals.
At some point in the last 8 years, girls have added the camera to the list of essential items for any night out.
Skin tight clothes? CHECK.
Tiny clutch that in all actuality fits nothing because you’re holding all your shit in your hands? CHECK.
Expensive camera that has NO BUSINESS being at such a non- monumental event? CHECK.
But by the end of the night? Several THOUSAND pictures will been taken involving many sloppy drunk photos, and JUST GUESS where they’re all going?
All motherfucking thousand.
Some will be siphoned off to Instragram where now quotidian filters add a faux-hipster look, while other rejects will be deleted immediately upon a misplaced hair, but most will be captioned with blurbs like “omg so sloppy”, “OMG look at us”, “omg WHO IS THIS?!?!?”, “zomg she’s my bestie <3”, “OH MY FUCKING GOD – friends4ever”, because nothing can be more definitive of a relationships’ status than the total number of facebook photos mutually shared and captioned with ecstatic acronyms and punctuation choices.
4. “No really, I’m fine.”
Let me paint this picture.
Doors are being slammed.
Cabinets are nearly blown off the hinges with angry woman force.
Windows are being windexed so goddamn hard I can see my naked neighbor Frank making a fresh batch of homemade donuts
She hasn’t mentioned anything about her shows, her hoes, or how her day went.
She HASN’T commented that you left your shoes on throughout the house.
No eye contact has been made.
No songs have been poorly sung.
…And all male veterans of relationships or anyone with a penis know what the FUCK is going down.
Something is wrong.
Terribly, terribly wrong.
We relay a heartfelt “Baby, what’s wrong?”
And WHAT DO WE GET?
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
Ok mother trucker.
If it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, and looks like a duck, it’s most likely an emotionally compromised female who wants you to chase her down and shake the problem out of her to validate that you actually care about it/her and will go through the extra difficulty in getting it out of her. You know who else does this?
Men are proactive problem-solvers, we want to solve our shit out before the cabinets that we had to carry in, install, and paint around when she redid the kitchen for the third time this decade, get fuckin slammed again! Tell us how you’re feeling so I don’t have to hang out with a emotionally compromised toddler for the remainder of my evening:
5. Single Sob Stories
Don’t get pissed.
Not all single girls are single because they are unattractive or personally suck. GET OVER THIS RIGHT NOW.
Some girls are single because they don’t realize that their public persona put out via social media and in person at the bar/club/pub/concert is like handing a job application in that says “HEYO. I’m a shitshow and I want to emotionally involve you in my shitshow too!”
What’s that, you say? Can’t “Meet the right guy”, you say?
Hi, I’m the right guy. I’m well-educated with a marketable graduate degree. I have a stable job with little student debt. I’m in shape, healthy, I like cooking and trying new food. I have a great relationship with my family and I can’t wait to be a good boyfriend, and then husband and father. Guess who ISN’T going to be the mother of my children:
All the unstable “tell me I’m pretty” Facebook queens who spent their college years clutching a toilet in a bar and then making out with a stranger I’ll play games with you till you answer what I want you to answer and how I want you to answer chase me so I can emotionally dump on you WHY DIDN’T YOU NOTICE I got new lotion – girls. Because Mr. Right is making an investment: emotionally, personally, and financially. Do you know why you can’t find the “right guy”? Because you’re marketing yourself as the wrong girl.
6. Texting nonsense.
That’s a simple word, right?
No harm right?
Great opener, RIGHT?
Don’t start a fucking chat that will take four hours of my time that can be finished with a 2 minute phone call.
If I don’t respond with an exclamation point, don’t get your goddamn panties in a bunch. I’m no asshole. I just want to remind you that we’re talking via machine. I’m not going to yell at you in person, so therefore, I don’t add the damn exclamation point in my text! < (EXCEPT NOW.)
When you send
one thought/sentence, I can’t fucking respond in time before getting interrupted from your 4 texts. Then my phone vibrates for 3 straight minutes in my pocket.
When a guy texts me, the conversation ends within 3 texts. When a girl texts me, it now ends in one text…
Me- no response.
7. Bitches hating bitches.
“She looked at me weird”
What the shit is going on.
Girls are MEAN. Legit, hurtful. Bringing an old friend (that’s a girl) to meet a newer friend (that’s a girl) is a TERRIBLE IDEA. They always hate them from the goddamn start and usually because “she gave me a weird look”.
She was sneezing, THAT’S why she had that “weird” look on her face. There’s always immediate hate, but they both fake it in front of each other. When all they really wanna say is:
And it’s not till they each get you alone do they tell you how much they don’t like the other girl.
Cut the shit girls.
This will go on for YEARS. It’s not until they both get drunk as hell and then they start loving the shit out of each other. Couple of selfies. A twitter tag or 2. Then even when it gets to that point, it’s just as bad. They just feed off each other, they talk about you the whole time while you’re just sitting there looking like a goddamn loner!
Moral of the story?
Don’t mix old girlfriends with new girlfriends. Keep that shit separate. Blending bitches is bad news.
And there you have it. Edition 1 of “Shit girls do that make no goddamn sense.” brought to you by a herd of manly men and one blogging wasian.