I hate the moments when I realize that why yes, in fact I am a girl.
…like when I can’t open a pickle jar without one of those old lady finger pad thingies…or when I realize that I have no clue how to properly use lighter fluid…OR when I look down at my legs and I don’t see a penis dangling in between my hairy legs….
Side note: Dude, if I had a penis…I’d play with that shit all day long. I’d jerk it…do card tricks with it…turn it into a lasso, and try to…um…lasso shit…hit people with it (in a nonsexual manner of course.) Oh god…the list just goes on forever.
Any who…I’m a pretty independent person…and I intend to keep it that way…so when these little nuances…like not having a penis…or upper body strength…pop up…this bitch gets pissed.
And I know I could probably fix this situation, by doing a couple of push-ups…and reading directions.
But where is the fun in that? There isn’t any. It’s fucking work. I don’t like work.
It’s a catch-22 really. I want to stay independent….but I'm cute so don’t want to do any of the work.
Look, I’m good at three things…writing…straightening my hair…creating perfectly timed black jokes….you don’t need upper body strength for these skills…unless the black joke goes awry.
I’m okay with that.
I know some of you feminists out there are not. You guys annoy me anyways…so I don’t really care if
I piss that lot off.
So all in all…even though I'm annoyingly pissed off about that fact that I’m a girl, I have to admit that there will be moments where I can’t be a 100% independent, which made me realize a huge flaw in this logic. What if I was just dependent on someone (Matthew) for a change? What’s the harm in that shit?
It’s a win-win really. I don’t have to do any of the work…and I get to lie around half naked while someone tells me I'm pretty while still calling myself independent.
Did I just grow up a little?
Whatever, I’m pretty. Don’t contradict me.
I'm pretty good at opening jars, switching out parts when the toilet breaks, and lighting the BBQ without the help of a man. It's those stupid crazy girl hormones that take over sometimes that piss me the fuck off and remind me that I'm a fucking girl, I'm fucking crazy, and there's is nothing I can do about it.
ReplyDeleteBut then I remember that I'm pretty and being a pretty girl gets me tons of free shit... so I get over it.
LOL ... using lighter fluid is really easy: dose the ex_SOB's possessions thoroughly, then spritz a little trail about five feet long, drop the match and watch his prized sh!t go up in flames. It helps to call him and tell him this is happening, or youtube it to all his friends and that cheating sl&t he hooked up with.
ReplyDeleteI agree they have it so much better. I would be better off without crazy bitch horomones, but someone has to be this way and most guys aren't strong enough to have them and not kill us.
ReplyDeleteOh and yes their parts are more fun than ours for sure!
I have never, ever wanted a penis (too floppy, in the way, vulnerable), but your description of what you'd do with one is priceless. And I am a feminist--but that does not mean I can't laugh at and sometimes get annoyed with hormonal stuff I have to deal with. But men are crazy, too--with their own hormonal annoyances. And we girls can totally be independent (even if we need sometimes require a rubber jar-opening thingy).
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