Silly rabbit, trick's on you, bitch!

 

 

 

This one’s dedicated to all the guys out there that can’t ever catch a break. Do you know why you can’t catch this break? Because certain women are fucking terrible. I will now expose the truth.

There is a new breed of girl on this planet. How new? Not older than 10 years I reckon. I’m now going to describe her. I have a feeling you either know her, knew her or wish you did. I just want you to know that I’ve been there too and I’m going to dig a nice hole for her, about 5’8” deep. I’ll pack down the dirt after with my Nikes.

When we’re growing up, there’s always that girl in your class that’s a tomboy. She’s not the best looking one, but she’s not bad, either. People tease her, throw metal toys at her (Tonka trucks work best), but it doesn’t matter. Sometimes she might be involved in lesbian sports like soccer or baseball. (I love baseball.) At about grade 6, you forget all about this ‘tomboy’ thing. It doesn’t resurface for many, many years. You forget the entire idea. And then, one day, it happens. You run into

THE FUCKING PERFECT GIRL.

Ever see that movie There’s something about Mary? Well, that movie is bullshit. I won’t reference it past this point because it’s an insult to my superior writing. Here’s how a conversation with this girl would go like, assuming you could ask all these questions and say these things without sounding like an idiot. Please place a checkmark beside the lines that you’ve run into and remember all-too-well.

“My god! Lisa! It’s been years!”
“Nice to see you again, Tom.” (I used my name because I have that creative freedom bound by no contracts)
“Wow, Lisa, you’ve gotten so hot. Your previously barren chest has now been blessed with majestic hills of sexual unnecessity.”
“Thanks!”
“And what’s this? Your hair is so stylish? You have all sorts of highlights, lowlights, ribbons, pencils and Pokemon in your hair?”

Everyone knows a hairdresser, who why does everyone pay for it?

“Yeah, my friend is a hairdresser. Just like my mom/aunt/gay male friend is. She was just practicing on me! We have so much fun! I have all sorts of pictures in my Facebook!”
“Yeah that’s great, I don’t personally fucking care, but anyway, I noticed you have such a great tan!”
“Yeah I go tanning with my bitches! But we also just came back from Dominican Republic/Cuba/Mexico/other third world country. Oh my god we drank so much HA HA HA. I have the pics in my Facebook.”
“Uh huh. So you like to drink, eh?”
“No, I’m not dumb like that! I only drink when I’m out with the girls. That’s only on Thursday nights, weekends, any shift after work that’s not too late. I used to be like CRAZY last summer though! HA HA HA LOL.”
“I see. I bet you take your camera everywhere with you, right?”
“OMG yes! Ha! How’d you know?!”
“A sneaking suspicion. So tell me more about yourself. What you doing in school?”
“I’m taking general something study of social something. I don’t know what I want to do yet, so I want to go to school for years before I realize that a waitress makes more money than most engineers.”
“That’s fascinating. What about your car? What you driving these days?”
“I’m either driving my piece of shit Cavalier/Sunfire/Sunbird/ or my ex boyfriend’s old Civic with nice wheels.”
“Sorry to hear that. You like cars?”
“Yeah I love them. I change my own oil, I control my air/fuel mixture with a wideband O2 sensor, I have my camber alignment settings tattooed on my ankle, but I did hit A GIANT FUCKING YELLOW POST while at the Tim Horton’s drive through. My boyfriend’s ex-uncle has a shop, though, so I’m getting a deal.”

Of course she just finished installing her wideband o2 sensor

“Oh how convenient. So it’s only going to cost you $900 to paint one door instead of the $450 he charges other people?”
“Yeah what a deal, eh?! Oh I just love cars. I drive stick, too.”
“Oh I bet you do.”
“Oh my god I’m so tired from work. I have this really shitty job where I work for 4 hours a day, but complain to everyone else for about 6. I hate everything and everyone at work, but I won’t go somewhere else but I don’t like change or making my life better with relative ease. I like the attention I get by faking exhaustion and discomfort.”
“Wow. I’d hate to be in your shoes.”
“Speaking of shoes, look at this purse! I got it downtown from this Korean guy. I can’t believe he sells these things for $39 when they cost $700 in the store. He’s getting these direct from the factory! Can you believe that?!”
“Ah. Nice cell phone you have there.”
“Yeah, isn’t it? I’m on this plan, right? It’s only like 20 bucks a month! I pay $46 because I’m dumb and don’t read the fine print. I got this phone for like, totally free! I even have a cool 17-year contract.”
“Impressive. That’s showing some commitment on your part. How’s your boyfriend?”
“He’s so awesome. We have the best sex. Let me tell you all about it, and his giant penis. It’s always bigger than yours, always. He’s a really smart guy. He has lots of girl friends and he’s really good with people. For instance, on weekends he ditches me and hangs out with his friends and smokes weed in the basement. But that’ll stop soon, I swear!”
“Is that a tattoo I see there?”
“Yeah! It’s so HOT! It’s a bunch of stuff permanently drawn on my body that I didn’t give much though, but I want everyone to see that I like getting poked by strangers!”
“Sounds super. Hey listen, I’ve got to run. I have some serious gaming to do.”
“Videogames? I love videogames! I play Nintendo with my boyfriend all the time. I always kick his ass! That’s when we play videogames between watching football games.”
“You’re fucking kidding me right? I would ass-fuck you at any game, any time. He only lets you win so you play more, then he can tell his friends that his hot girlfriend plays videogames and they’ll get jealous. That way he’ll lose his life-long friends and it’ll be your fault. When you break up, he’ll be left with nothing and you won’t know or care. You’ll think you’re the Wii Sports champ when you’re really just a body-temperature sex toy.”
“You totally gotta see this other purse I got!”
"You fucking cunt! Oh, that's cool."

Those girls never leave home without their fucking mutt

As you can see, this has gone on far too long. You fucking sluts need to get your shit in order! I will no longer fall for your mind-game mind-fuck nonsense. A few years ago I fell for such a beast. She had everything – good looks, money, a car, intelligence, fun to be with, sex maniac, generous, tomboyish, everything. She was better than any of my friends at everything. Do you know where she is now? No? Perfect.

If you’re scratching your head wondering what the problem with the “perfect girl” is, let me scratch it for you with something out of Saw II. If you think she’s the perfect girl, so does EVERY OTHER FUCKING GUY. The competition is retarded. Everywhere she goes she gets hounded by men, young and old. By dating her you’re giving yourself premature heart failure. Every guy out there wants a piece of her. Some guy is always better looking, has more money, has a bigger dick, a faster car, is funnier (the one thing that doesn’t get by me) is taller, dresses better, continue this list to infinity. I’ve always wanted a Ferrari until I saw one parked at the movies and the dozen people raping it. If that was my car, I’d’ve killed myself. Twice. Girls like that know they can get every guy and they let you know it. They make sure you know that you have to work your ass off just to have a chance. It’s so much fun dating someone whose life mission is to meet guys who will one-up you in every conceivable way. In nerd terms, they will +1 you. +1 to paranoid misery, that is.

You just know she beat Super Ghouls 'n Ghosts

Is this how you want to live, guys? I certainly don’t. Next time you meet one of these street-legal whores, do yourself a favour and hang out with your buddies instead. How many fucking friends do I have to lose to you girls? How many times has a friend only called me to complain about their girl problems? How many beers have we drank while freaking out about them going out to the bars? Too many beers that could’ve been spent on just hanging out.

The alternative? Fun, pretty, quirky girls that appreciate the real you. Not a trophy girlfriend, not even the prize, but the actual fun of the game. Never again will I be fooled by a glittering gold. If it’s too good to be true, it probably is.
So this goes out to all you bitches out there that break hearts and ruin it for all the real girls out there – go fuck yourselves.