Nov 29, 2010

I Laugh Because You're Stupid...

Day in and day out more and more men, for in this particular rant I shall focus on that Y chromosome, act foolishly and irresponsibly; stumbling along with their knuckles dragging in the dirt, making assumptions about the female mind, and proclaiming that only they are entitled to piss on the metaphorical bush of life. Just when I think I've gotten the relative gist of the whole thing, perhaps a vague outline of how the male mind works, it shocks me with another act of blatant stupidity. Alas, then I sit back and remember: These are my male counterparts I'm talking about, so of course this shouldn't surprise me. It's really sad to think that I've become so used to seeing idiotic acts in my everyday life, that they no longer stir a genuine reaction in me.

As an explanation for this observation of the males in my presence as of late, let's take Mr. A into consideration. He's a young virile example of masculinity in the prime of life; attempting to make his way into the world through recently acquired work. While one may look at this man-boy and see potential, I look upon him and see the past coming back to haunt us all. For he is not in fact living out his own life, but that of those that came before him. I speak of course of Being-Better-Than-My-Daddy Boy. Not to be confused with I-Have-Daddy-Issues-Guy, who carries around with him a WHOLE other collection of problems that can only be handled by a professional charging $200.00 by the hour. BBTMD Boy lives in the proverbial and ever present shadow of his father figure. While having the desire to work his way out of this suffocating and all consuming presence, he does not have the capacity to go about this in a decent manner. His idea: I Shall Whore Around Whenever Possible, Thus Spreading My Seed to the Four Winds and Securing My Legacy! The victims: Every female within spiting distance.

While one may find themselves overwhelmed by the presence of this at times cunning but mostly moronic figure, it's really all up to the individual to handle these encounters. One may take the Romantic Approach, also known as the Path of Moron, and think they can change this individual. That upon meeting such a fresh faced and special girl, Mr. BBTMD will see the error of his ways and learn to love the right way; one at a time and with a condom. As you can tell by my name for this path, however, I disagree with this course of action. My way of handling this type of boy is simple: Light It, Smoke It, Toss the Butt. Whenever this type of individual walks into my life and I happen to be single and bored, I take advantage of the situation. Usually this results in a few weeks worth of trysts, as the individual tends to have one specific significant other whom he rotates the rest of his agenda around, and heated but brief sessions. (In rare instances, BBTMD Boy will have a significant other who is herself a BBTMWF GF or Be-Better-Than-My-Whore-Friends Girl Friend. This girl enjoys the stability of a relationship, while simultaneously finding happiness with any and all penises near by). It's a simple set of rules to follow. Do not get emotionally attached, do not think you're more important than you are, and always be prepared to bail out as soon as necessary. Case and point: When BBTMD Boy starts to say he wishes he had met you before he met his significant other, it's time to start packing your emotional luggage and buying yourself a ticket on the next train out of Dodge, because bold statements like these only serve to pull you in even deeper so in the end you will be the Dumpee and not the Dumper. You can take the adult-ish trail here and express your ideals to BBTMD Boy, hoping that you can mutually part ways and both continue your semi-normal existence OR and here is where I am an expert: AVOID, AVOID, AVOID. Eventually you will fade from BBTMD's consciousness, simply because he is too busy keeping track of his various love affairs to notice that he has been ditched. This leaves you in the free and clear to seek out another fling to fill the days.

I realize this blog might seem like it doesn't really have an end point to it, but now I shall try to summarize my feelings in a neat package.

Men, and I will add here not all men, as sometimes one can be lucky enough to stumble over enough rocks and man-whores to land next to a pretty decent chap who will split a date night check and NOT look at a woman's ass when she walks by, are easily fooled into thinking that they know everything and can keep secrets from us. They think that we don't know they pretend they're only interested in us, while really having about three other girls on the back burner. They think we don't know that when they get quiet while chatting with us, it means they're talking on the phone with the BBTMWF Girlfriend. They think we don't know the rules of this game their playing. But the truth is, we wrote them. We know all the tricks, we know all the rules, we know all the cheat codes, we're just pretending we don't. You laugh because you're getting away with murder, but the truth is I know where all your bodies are buried. I laugh because you're stupid...and you didn't even notice I stole your Microwave when I left.

Lost and Found

When searching through one's closet, it's often times possible to accidentally stumble upon an item that's been lost in the vast void and chaos that is clutter. A shoe here, a sock there, a purse, half a lipstick, a receipt for a jacket that seemed like a good idea at the time until you realize that sequence tends to snag on any and every earring you will ever wear...it's inevitable. With the fast pace grab-and-go attitude of the world, it's hard to keep track of every little thing you once held dear. Apparently, this also happens with blogs.

While enjoying the wonders and delights that New York has to offer during a recent visit, it was suggested to me that it might be a good idea to start a Blog, so as to record my stunningly brilliant but at times flash-quick remarks about life as I know it. I pondered this suggestion for a while, and decided it was high-time I made my mark on the internet landscape for all the world to see. Well, it turns out that I already had this account set up a while ago through my Gmail web address, soooo time to dust off the old typing digits and dive into the web waters.

I'm typing this up in the hopes that somewhere out there, someone will grab a hold of this random message in a Cyber-Bottle and feel slightly amused by my at-times mindless rants about life, love, the universe, and everything.

Much love to whomever reads my words and best wishes
Tashy