WHY GIRLS PISS ME OFF!!!

Why Girls Piss Me Off ! ! !
Why Girls Piss Me Off.. "can you tell im single"? ? ?

I swear that if I wasn't sexually attracted to girls that I'd be gay. At least
guys make sense most the time.

First off, girls just talk way too much. When you're with your other
girlfriends, go ahead and talk about whatever the fuck you want. I don't care.
But why exactly do you think that I care about the kind of day that your sisters
co-workers dog had? Your sister is nice enough, but I don't know her co-worker
and I certainly don't know her dog. So why the fuck are you telling me this
story? I don't care! If you have something worth talking about, then I can enjoy
engaging you in a meaningful conversation. But before you start talking to me
about some of the insane frivolous shit that you talk to your girlfriends about,
first ask yourself "Does this have a point?". Because if it doesn't I'm just
going to smile, and nod, and zone out and you'll get mad because I'm not
listening to your retarded shit!

Stop over complicating everything. There isn't an ulterior motive or hidden
meaning in every other sentance. Unless, I suppose, it's coming out of the mouth
of another woman. Because you ladies never can seem to say what you actually
mean. You have this weird secret code that you love to try and crack and expect
us guys to be able to get in on your stupid game. Guys aren't like that. Rarely
rarely RARELY will you ever have to figure out what a guy is actually saying. We
say what we mean. Girls have such a skewed sense of logic that this simple
concept is often lost on them. When you go searching for some deeper meaning
that isn't there, you're just committing to an act of futility. In the end you
wind up making up some bullshit and believing that it must be true and acting on
that false reality and making a mess of something for no apparent reason other
than the fact that you're in-fucking-sane.

Stop getting upset at guys for trying to help solve your problems. That's what
guys do. You present us with a problem, we're going to try and fix it. It's in
our fucking nature. I know it's in your nature to want to talk about everything,
but if you're going to bring up your problems to a guy, expect that he's going
to try and do something about it or give you advice. Women always bitch that
guys don't listen. It's not that we don't listen, we just don't understand why
you're bringing up your problems if you don't want us to do something about it.
We're not as empathetic as your girlfriends, so if you want empathy, go to them.
Likewise, if guys have a problem, they'll probably only bring it up if they need
help or advice. Many women will bitch that guys don't talk enough. It's not that
guys don't talk, it's just that your empathy doesn't help solve our problems
when we do talk.

One of the most insanely frustrating things about women is the constant
reassurance. No, you're not fat. If you were fat you wouldn't be able to fit
into that size 2 dress. And yes, you look good. Guys wouldn't be giving you free
shit if you were ugly. (There's an ulterior fucking motive for you. Hint:
They're not giving you free stuff just to be sweet.) It's so frustrating having
to constantly answer those questions, only to not be believed. It's like trying
to convince someone that the sky is blue. You're not blind, you're not even
colour blind. You can see that the sky is blue. Yet you continue to ask what
colour the sky is. I tell you it's blue. I know that you know what colour blue is.
And even though I've told you that the sky is blue about fifty-million times,
you still have to ask because...I don't know...maybe it's not blue today. The
sky is fucking blue goddammit! You're not fucking fat! You're not fucking ugly!
You know it, I know it, everyone fucking knows it!

And fuck all you ultra-hot girls that bitch about the most retarded things.
Yeah, all men are fucking pigs because they stare at your boobs. I'm sure it has
nothing to do with the fact that you're wearing a skin tight low cut shirt that
has 'Bebe' printed across your boobs... one 'Be' per boob. It's totally unfair
that you have to put up with guys staring at you all the time just because you
like to look sexy. And boo hoo, it's so hard for you to meet a nice guy. Well
actually it isn't, because the shoulder your crying on belongs to a nice guy.
He's the one that puts up with all your stupid shit. And yet you some how end up
with all the assholes. I'm sure that it has nothing to do with the fact that
you're holding out for a six foot tall alpha-male fire fighter with a trust
fund.

And finally, yay for you. You sold a freezer to some eskimos. Congratulations on
being the hot sales rep. We're all very proud of you for being able to have a
nice ass while the rest of us actually have to work for a living. And we're all
so excited to see your new diamond jewelry. Your ability to date another rich
fucktard that will shower you with expensive bobbles is commendable. And I'll be
so surprised and sorry for you when he dumps you for the next hot girl. Because
I really thought that materialistic trophy bagger was in love with you. But I'm
happy to hear that you wrecked your fifth car while multi-tasking between your
cell phone and doing your make up in the mirror. Your dedication to enforcing
the stereotype of women drivers is nothing short of awe inspiring. And you're
right, I was being a shallow douchebag when I commented on the hotness of Eva
Longoria. So lets go see that movie where Johnny Depp makes out with Orlando
Bloom on Brad Pitts abs. I know you've been dying to see that one.

Girls...you piss me the fuck off. You do stupid shit and manage to get away with
it. You can be the most annoying idiots in the world. Your sense of logic and
common sense seems to be a rare gift rather than a common trait. And yet I'm
uncontrollably attracted to you. And that's quite possibly the most frustrating
thing of all.
--YES I WISH I WAS STILL SINGLE AND PISSED OFF TO SMITHEREENS BUT I GOT BAILED-OUT BY AN ANGEL WHO KNEW THE COLOUR OF THE CLOUD AND DIDNT NEED ASK UMPTEENTH TIMES.LUCKY ME!!

THE WOMEN HE HAD......THAT I WISHED I HAD!

My women

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Date: 2008-08-13, 6:40AM EDT



Laura. You were hot. I was not. You let me fuck you because I was funny. Thank you.

Kim. We smoked a lot of weed and drank all the time. I don't remember much.

Sarah. You were hot. But a total bitch. I could have done better. You treated me like shit. I put up with it because you had a great vagina. Beautiful.

Another Kim. You thought you were smart. You weren't. I was bored.

Charlee. I liked your name and the way it was spelled.

Rachel. You were really sweet and nice. Stop emailing me. It's been fifteen years. It's creeping me out and pissing off my wife. Fucking classmates.com.

Megan. I wanted you since highschool. I was kinda dissapointed when it happened.

Jennifer. What the hell was I thinking? What the hell were you thinking? You smelled kinda funny too. Your dad was a dick.

Jill. You had HUGE nipples. Couldn't feel a thing though. Shame all that nippleage going to waste.

Michelle. You were a drug addict. You have to be pretty fucked up for me of all people to say that.

Another Megan. I lost your number.

Laura. I did it for the novelty of going out with a girl that I went out with ten years before. You were still hot. I got kinda hot. We were better matched. Thanks again. Sorry I dumped you. You were a shitty tipper. I had no choice. Some handsome and cool shitty tipping guy probably grabbed you. Or some funny wanker.

Another another Megan. I've dated a lot of Megans. This one was no prize.

Debby. You were really smart except you had no self esteem. Be careful or some asshole is going to own you and that would be sad. You're smart and pretty and have great tits. Smaller tits can be awesome too.

Sophia. Liked your name. Liked that you worked out a lot. You seemed nice but you fucked up my credit. User.

Andrea. You had that adorable petit look that I can only call the "Penelope Cruz" look. Too bad you didn't have her personality.

Emily. NOBODY FUCKING CARES YOUR FAMILY IS RICH. You'd be okay if you were not preoccupied with wealth you did not personally aquire.

Dr. Sanderson. You worked to much. You were kinda cold. I thought you were cool though but you are so career motivated you probably did not give a shit about anything else. I got drunk once and thought about asking you to marry me though. I still wonder if you would have.

Elizabeth. You are my wife. My wife is perfect. My life is perfect.

Violet. You are my daughter. When I looked in on you tonight I had that rush of feeling so strong that a shiver went through my whole body and I had to move my hands really quickly to dissipate it's physical effect. Before I met you I was a "kids are no big deal, everyone's got kids and they're not that fucking special" kinda guy. You fucking ruined me. I'm gay for kids now. I love you so much baby.

My unborn 6 month old fetal daughter. If you come out retarded or ugly as shit I'll still love and protect you.

TRUTH FOR THOUGHT

AN AVERAGE THINKING BEING WOULD HAVE AT ONE POINT IN TIME DELIBRATED OVER THE UNFATHOMABLE DEBACLE OF WHERE EXACTLY WE WERE BEFORE BIRTH AND WHERE WE WOULD SWING TO AFTER DEATH.CERTAINLY THERE IS NO EXPLANATION OF OUR SOURCE - (WELL WE GOT THE MOM AND DAD BIOLOGICAL MIX-TAPE) EXCEPT THE GENERALLY BELIEVED HEAVEN AND HELL.THE NEAREST BEST WE CAN DO IS TO LOVE ONE ANOTHER WITHOUT PREJUDICE REGARDLESS OF RACE AND CREED BUT ITS EASIER SAID THAN DONE SINCE WE ARE ALL SELF-CENTERED BY NATURE HENCE IT TAKES A WHOLE MEGATON OF ABILITY TO EMBRACE THAT OUTLOOK.READ BELOW PLEASE:

**Because here's something else that's weird but true: in the day-to day trenches of adult life, there is actually no such thing as atheism. There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship. And the compelling reason for maybe choosing some sort of god or spiritual-type thing to worship -- be it JC or Allah, bet it YHWH or the Wiccan Mother Goddess, or the Four Noble Truths, or some inviolable set of ethical principles -- is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive. If you worship money and things, if they are where you tap real meaning in life, then you will never have enough, never feel you have enough. It's the truth. Worship your body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly. And when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally grieve you. On one level, we all know this stuff already. It's been codified as myths, proverbs, clichés, epigrams, parables; the skeleton of every great story. The whole trick is keeping the truth up front in daily consciousness.
Worship power, you will end up feeling weak and afraid, and you will need ever more power over others to numb you to your own fear. Worship your intellect, being seen as smart, you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out. But the insidious thing about these forms of worship is not that they're evil or sinful, it's that they're unconscious. They are default settings.
They're the kind of worship you just gradually slip into, day after day, getting more and more selective about what you see and how you measure value without ever being fully aware that that's what you're doing.
And the so-called real world will not discourage you from operating on your default settings, because the so-called real world of men and money and power hums merrily along in a pool of fear and anger and frustration and craving and worship of self. Our own present culture has harnessed these forces in ways that have yielded extraordinary wealth and comfort and personal freedom. The freedom all to be lords of our tiny skull-sized kingdoms, alone at the center of all creation. This kind of freedom has much to recommend it. But of course there are all different kinds of freedom, and the kind that is most precious you will not hear much talk about much in the great outside world of wanting and achieving and [unintelligible -- sounds like "displayal"]. The really important kind of freedom involves attention and awareness and discipline, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them over and over in myriad petty, unsexy ways every day.
That is real freedom. That is being educated, and understanding how to think. The alternative is unconsciousness, the default setting, the rat race, the constant gnawing sense of having had, and lost, some infinite thing.
I know that this stuff probably doesn't sound fun and breezy or grandly inspirational the way a commencement speech is supposed to sound. What it is, as far as I can see, is the capital-T Truth, with a whole lot of rhetorical niceties stripped away. You are, of course, free to think of it whatever you wish. But please don't just dismiss it as just some finger-wagging Dr. Laura sermon. None of this stuff is really about morality or religion or dogma or big fancy questions of life after death.
The capital-T Truth is about life BEFORE death.**
Courtesy-David Foster Wallace.

ALL I CAN SAY IS THIS DUDE BULL'S-EYED OUR SELF-PERSONALITY WITH THE DEADLIEST LITERARY HUMAN ACCURACY I HAVE EVER COME ACROSS.
http://www.marginalia.org/dfw_kenyon_commencement.html