No Woman, No Cry
A friend asked me the other
day if my girlfriend told me that she loved me with all of her heart
and that I was her best friend and she didn’t want to lose me - but
that she could never have sex with me again – would I stay with her?
I have to think long and hard
about that one.
Really, if it wasn’t for
the sex, I doubt many of us (man or woman, heterosexual or homosexual)
would put up with our significant others. You’re in a relationship
for a while, and you invariably get sick of the other person.
Booze and sex are the only things that really make their whining palatable.
And, after a while, it’s just the booze.
Romantic relationships have
a way of killing a good friendship. If you were lucky enough to
have a friendship with your significant other in the first place, that
But, unfortunately, the longer
you date a woman, the more like a woman (in the negative connotation
of the word) she becomes. Women apparently have a shelf
life on coolness.
This sweeping generalization
brings me to an observation by one of my female friends that reads this
article – she thinks I sound misogynistic.
I have thought about this,
and I have come to this conclusion – I am. I hate women.
When I say that, I want to
be clear… there are many things about women I LOVE. I love looking
at them, I love touching them, I love being close with them, I love
sex with them.
And when I say women
– I do not include all women. I have friends that are women
that are some of the coolest people/individuals on this earth.
I’m talking about the stereotype of women.
I hate people that bitch about
every little thing as if constant badgering were the key to happiness.
I hate people that suffer from massive mood swings. I hate people
that just can’t relax. I hate people that memorize your every
mistake like they’re writing your biography. I hate people that
discuss what so-and-so was wearing and didn’t so-and-so look fat.
I hate people that wear too much make-up, or spend hours on their fucking
hair, or have to change five times before leaving the house to get a
cup of coffee. I hate prissy self-involved hair highlights Baby
Gap The View shallow stupid petty spoiled useless wastes of space that
would not be tolerated by 90% of the rest of the human population if
not for the fact that they can 1. supply occasional sexual gratification,
2. procreate, and 3. apparently crush their spouses financially in divorce
All of the preceding paragraph
describes a stereotype that is typically associated with women.
And so many of the bitches
live down to it.
These freaks of nature drive
That is why I so appreciate
the sporadic female that is actually a cool individual. Why aren’t
there more like you? Because of gender coding, because women compete
with each other in vicious harmful status-symbol ways, because the societal
pressure on women to fit a certain horrific model?
I have two daughters, and I
pledged myself since their birth that I would not allow them to fall
into the Barbie and Bratz hellhole that creates women out of
innocent girls. I put them in sports, teach them about healthy
competition, wrestle, hike, explore – you know, things that all
children, male or female, should do. But society and my ex-wife
– who is on the Grand Evil Council of Women – are contriving
to steal their souls away from me. My youngest is 4 and already
feels that she needs to carry lip gloss with her everywhere.
The older I get, the more my
view on the perfect woman changes. Looks have become so much less
important. Just enjoy the following – food, drink, life, sex,
and football. And don’t look like Mama Cass.
Is that too much to ask?
Women. Can’t live with
‘em. Can’t stab ‘em in the head with a fork.
***I almost turned off the
Indy-New England game yesterday. It was starting to remind me
too much of the BCS Championship game between Florida and that other
But then Indy did what I kept
hoping would happen in the BCSCG – which is why I kept watching that
despicable BCSCG until there was 10 minutes left in the 4th
The Indy game really hinged
on one series. Indy was down 21-3. Manning had thrown the
INT for the TD. The Indy O had the ball and were backed up, and
Peyton got sacked twice in a row to start the drive. The Indy
fans were booing their team like they were 11 Tim Couches. Manning
was clearly upset and uncomfortable. They looked dead, and they
had to punt.
NE got the ball in great field
position, and they were poised to put the game away before halftime.
People were starting to seriously consider the quick exit to the parking
lot. But Indy’s D stopped them.
They not only stopped the Patriots
– they drove NE back, so they had no choice but to punt.
That miniscule sign of life
was the turning point. Indy’s O got the ball back, Peyton got
his balls back, and they went down the field and got the FG, knowing
full well that they got the ball first in the 2nd half and
would have a good shot at 10 straight points to climb back out of their
Turned out to be a hell of
***I still have faith in Rex
Grossman, despite his getting his head out of his ass just in time for
Chicago to take control of the NFC Championship game. I still
believe that he will find a way to choke it in the Superbowl.
I’d say “put the smart
money on the Colts”. But after betting my house on the Saints
last week, I can no longer pretend that I know anything about “smart
money”. Or money. Or life.
***I will be rooting for the
Bears, but part of me would like to see the Colts win. I’m not
necessarily a Peyton Manning fan, but I do think he deserves at least
one Superbowl ring, and I am a Tony Dungy fan.
And if the Bears can win a
Superbowl with the aforementioned Mr. Grossman, we should all ditch
any wishes for drafting Brady “Mediocrity Personified” Quinn
or Jamarcus “Spergon Wynn had measurables too” Russel in
the Top 5.
Surround him with a good D
and a good running game, and Mr. Frye or Mr. Anderson will do.
***Reggie Bush pulled a fantastically
dick-ish move with his point and dive 85 yard TD in the 3rd
quarter. It wasn’t like you were wrapping up the game, Reggie.
Don’t act like a walking dildo.
***It is my opinion that all
the hype about the fact that these are the first two African-American
coaches to reach the Superbowl somewhat diminishes the accomplishments
of these two men.
Making the Superbowl has been
the elusive quest of Tony Dungy – the man
– for years. I don’t care if he’s purple, I’m happy for
him – the person, the individual. I could
care less about the symbolic meaning of his color.
The day that should be celebrated
is the day that we as a society have reached a point where no one even
notices if these two excellent coaches and people are black, white,
magenta, or chartreuse.
And the media entities are
gonna have 2 whole weeks with which to lambaste us regarding this topic.
***In fact, the thought of
2 weeks of Superbowl hype has me bleeding from the ears. Why 2
weeks??? To give it long enough to make us absolutely sick with
human interest stories about Chicago’s punter’s sick grand-aunt?
Or endless reports about Kato June’s hangnail tragedy?
I hate the 2 week layoff.
I’m so bored of the Superbowl by the time that the Superbowl finally
rolls around that it takes a close 1st half of actual football
before I can get back into the game.
I think I hate the whole Superbowl
“thing”. The endless hype, the 7 hours of pre-game coverage,
the perpetually lame halftime show, the neutral crowd of wealthy pseudo-fans
that cheers everything from the coin flip to a TV timeout, the long,
drawn out trophy ceremony afterwards, the over-hyped commercials…
UGH. The only thing that keeps me watching is that it has been
a decent game over recent years, and, well, it IS football…
And maybe throw in the occasional
***The season has only been
over for 3 weeks – and what a horrible season it was – and I already
miss the Browns.
I know, I know – it’s like
missing prostate exams.
I can’t help it. Stupid
***It’s amazing how angry
certain people’s ex-wives might get if her child says to her “I
walked into Daddy’s room last night, and Daddy’s girlfriend was
eating his PP.”
Of course, I lock my bedroom
door at night, so this is just theoretical.
No talent useless whorebag