People always wonder about the true meaning of life. I know the answer. The meaning of life for men is to deprive women's lives from having any meaning. That way neither gender has a meaning and we both live and die miserable and pointless lives.
Case in point...Week ago I went out on a date. I simply chalk that up to me shooting myself in the groin area. The guy was totally sexy. He was dressed well. Have you ever been on a date and gone home with a doggy bag and a moral hangover? Have you ever gone on a date to dinner and had anything exciting happen besides the traditional ten second orgasm? Hell no. I have never gone on a date and left with a new car or a pay raise or new toy of any kind. Zero. Ever. Guys are a waste of time. Well maybe not all. But lets put it this way this was not going home to meet mom and dad. Plus I can't stand it when my date looks prettier than me. I like them roughed. Rough and tumble ok.
Some guys don't even grant you the thirty seconds of pleasure that you worked so hard to achieve. You go on a date and stare at him all night wishing he'd shut up. Guys should wake up and realize that we women don't always want to talk or listen. And how much we don't care about the orgasim on wheels he's drooling after at the local car dealership. Why do they think we take time to dress up to go to dinner? It's because their silence while chewing is worth an $380 check. You throw a steak in front of him and hope he'll pause to eat it which will allow our brain time to forget all the garbage he just spewed out at us, but he keeps yaking. How do they do that? The male mouth is an amazing organ. It's probably the most tenacious thing on the planet. You could cut out his tongue, stick a ball gag down his throat, slice his vocal chords to little pieces, and he'd still sit there yaking away like a little dog.Yak yak yak. What the hell do I care about fucking baseball or hockey for that matter? I'll tell you the only thing I care about in that conversation is how to meet one of those guys to have dinner with, as oppose to the moron who sits across from me yaking about baseball players extrodinary ridiclously inflated earnings. But that's just how I roll!
I know, I know back in the day, women couldn't yak unless men allowed them to. Times have changed. Now we women come off as assholes, but sometimes we too just want some silence. Today men being the rebellious brutes all over the world are forming groups of meninists who created conspiracy theories about women being nagging control freaks and wanting power. Hell no, we just want you to shut the fuck up for 60 minutes and fuck us. That's it. You can have the power, just give us the dick when we want it. And none of that "whos your daddy shit." I know who my daddy is and he looks nothing like you. Just ask my mother.
Girls know how it works. We've known for a long time. Guys, this is my dating advice for you. I made it into poem format because that might rub on smoother:
Women have power,
men have penis.
If men want power,
trade for it with penis.
(Notice how I rhymed power with power and penis with penis? That's not because I'm a bad poet, it's because men need to be told at least twice before they have any chance of understanding something.)
Men want both power and purity. These days, it's not uncommon for a penis to be class president. Back in the day, if a girl wanted to get high up in the system, she had to put out like a pornstar. A female campaigning back then would consist of a girl crouched on her knees in the hall, smiling like the Holland Tunnel with cum dribbling out her lips and mumbling, "Vote for me."
Well guess what gentlemen times have changed. If a woman wants you on your knees for any reason all she has to do is snap a finger. And...
Anyway, back to the prude guy scenario. You get through the date and a wave of disgust washes over you as you come to realize that he wants you to put out. You hide it (because there's always a chance you can become sick immediately after a meal), kiss him on the cheek, and leave. When you get home, you sit on your bed, shake your head, and think, "Wow, what the hell happened to my night? I'm cold, lonely, sober, and all I have to show for it is a cum stain on my pants from dry humping that his leg all night long." You vow to never waste time on a guy ever again. Needless to say, the next day you're calling. Hahahahahahaha
