You Think I Need a Sexy Coat?!?!!?
Yes, we resent you. Most of us do. We cannot stand you. Im talking you women, who gets pissed off when we gawk at you wearing those sexy, heels or that skirt that can double as a belt, and dont even get me started on yoga pants.
Seriously, you’re pretty annoying most of the time and when you’re awesome, you set off a nuclear bomb in my soul and crush me for the foreseeable future. Don’t be mad, its perfectly fine if you think about why men resent women. Don’t get me wrong, it goes both ways I’m sure of it. How can you not resent us? We are a resentable bunch. Even hatable at times. Instead of annoying, we are childish or immature. But when we are awesome, we push you over the edge with our inability to address (fill in the blank).
There isn’t any subtlety nor any grace to how we operate. Whether we like to play tailgating games at house parties or are less than elegant in conveying our physical desire for you. You see us coming from a mile away. The fact we are out with you means we want to have sex with you at the very least. Our intent isn’t shrouded in mystery. We are as dense as boulders and have the subtlety of a pitbull. Ok seriously, you know why we can’t stand you? Why women cannot be stood by men? Its because you make everything so hard for us. We take all the risks and suffer all of the consequences. Everything a man does, the hair gel, the skinny jeans, working out, all of it…is for a woman. Why do you make us do this? Why do I have to look “nice” for you or take you out to dinner just to even get a foot into the proverbial door? I don’t want to have to go through the rigmarole of dealing with this shit of buying jeans that make me look tall or buying vintage cologne. Its all for naught. We hardly get credit for our genuine efforts. Instead we are faced with the humiliation of getting laughed at after we approach you and your friends after we jagar-bombed our way towards the confidence needed to do so.
Or how about this scenario when we actually get a date with you: halfway through dinner, you already made the judgment that you’re not going to sleep with me let alone consider us datable, but I don’t know that until the end of the night at the earliest. Meanwhile, you're already thinking if that guy at the bar behind me is single, and Im still trying to answer that stupid question you posed asking about my most profound experience while traveling.
Heres where our resentment originates. You hold your body hostage from us. Lets be honest, isn’t life better when you’re having sex? We all run the risk of encountering bad sex time and time again. But sex is like pizza, even when its bad its still pretty good. My previous post about losing your ego should be applied to women using the same framework in regards to their body. Take the loss…so the guy you slept with sucks in bed and probably a whiny loser. Big fucking whoop. At least you can gossip with your friends about his arrhythmic hip movements or his awful o-face and have a good laugh. Also, at least you get some cocktails and dinner. If I went on a date with some lad who wined and dined me but had awful sex at end of the night, it’s a net gain as far as Im concerned. Actually you know what? Maybe we don’t really hate you. Maybe we hate ourselves. Actually, maybe not. I love myself. I fucking look good in my skinny jeans. I keep in amazing shape and this is how I get repaid? No, Patrice is right. Who am I kidding? I resent the shit out of you. Im still gonna chase after you. Risking embarrassment, Im still going to relentlessly approach you and your friends because I find you absolutely sexy in those leather boots and wayfarer frames. What am I going to do? Not try to talk to you? Get real. Just know that I resent you and everything that has contributed to the development of your entire existence. Deal with it.
Heres a question that you should ask yourself…is there a chance dad hates mom in some way? I already know the answer, but perhaps you need to find out.