Being a woman tends to negatively affect my life. This is because most women do stupid shit and seeing as I am a woman, I suffer the consequences.
I tend to hate the majority of things that women, as a whole, do. Some examples include dieting, shopping and waiting three dates to sleep with a man. You may argue that this makes me a poorly-dressed, overweight slut but I see myself more as a sexually evolved, regular-sized person who has a propensity to wear leggings at all social gatherings.
I also find women to be rather judgmental whereas I am gracious, open-minded and understanding. For instance, when I went to Hooters last night, I did not judge our overly made-up waitress when she pointed to the shrimp I was eating and asked how my chicken wings were. I didn’t point out that perhaps she should save some of the money she’s spending on flesh-colored pantyhose to purchase a book that includes names and pictures of farm animals in an attempt to get her finger on the pulse of what exactly it is that she does for a living.
And today, when I was watching football, I didn’t judge the girls who rolled in wearing mini-skirts and false eyelashes. Hey, if your idea of a good time is coming to a sports bar on a Sunday morning to give H.J.s to a guy in an Ed Hardy t-shirt over in the corner booth, more power to you. I love scantily-clad women and feel their presence is required at all sporting events. But please don’t pretend that you know anything about a football other than the fact that you can fit one in your mouth.
I guess the thing I hate most about women is the crying. Why are they always crying? I want to bond with my fellow females but it’s hard. They love cats and they constantly demand that I decipher cryptic texts from the men they’re dating like, “don’t call me anymore.” Overall, I find that I have nothing in common with them.
All of this was racing through my head this afternoon while I was masculinely watching football….until my team lost…and the worst thing that could ever happen to me in public happened…I started bawling. And while the rest of the men in the bar rolled their eyes and pounded drinks, the tallest, blondest girl I had ever seen walked over to me, batted her eyelashes and gave me a hug. And for just a minute, I was glad to be a broad.