Eating Is To Fatties As Dancing Is To...Lesbians??
Ugh. Doing my usual can’t-get-over-the-fact-I-went-out-constantly-in-high-school-so-I-treat-the-weekend-like-Madi-Gras thing this past Saturday and of course like all outings to the bar…I HATE FUCKING DUDES THERE. I honestly just go to get them to want my balls because it makes other girls jealous of the hottie I just ganked from beneath their skank dress and fishy vagina. But most of the time, I just amuse myself by making them look stupid. Because men that are cliche are stupid and men that are stupid are cliche. I’m sorry guys. This isn’t directed to all of you. And I know it’s everybody’s little wet dream but go harass the red pants biddie with the nice ass SITTING BY HERSELF over there. In this particular scenario, I was dancing with one of my very good friends and dudes kept treating us like a fucking Krusty the Clown side show. We were not kissing, humping, sexual-innuendoing, skeeting, finger fucking, titty licking, scissoring or blowjobbing. WE WERE DANCING. Granted, I get it. It’s not he 1950’s. Leave It To Beaver is no longer a TV show and is more likely a type of sexual position. Bids dance like they’ve eaten a year’s supply of Xtacy and they’re all hot and wet and all over each other. I know I do. But I’m an asshole. And you’re a fucking neanderthal who should probably shut his mouth.
I fucking don’t get it this time. I really, truly don’t. There was a massive crowd around us, guys handing us crumpled up bills, girls getting pissed, and every dude at the bar had the same question – “Are they gunna kiss, bro?” What the dick? First things first…I’m not a 14 year old girl at the senior MC Hammadrunk party (but I was at some point in my life). If I wanted to kiss anybody, I would do it because I want to show my affection or let that person know how attracted I am to them. It wouldn’t be to impress you like “ohhhh, I’m such a dirty girl. I just love putting my tongue all over girlsssssssssss”. It wouldn’t be to get a drink out of you because you’ve already given me three and it really wouldn’t be to get you to like me and take me out on a “date” aka home with you tonight to play with your dick which then fails because you have a serious health condition known as Whiskey Dick. Secondly, and I just want to make this point very clear, why do guys beg and plot for this to happen? I get it; girls are attractive when they kiss because kissing was made for girls. No dude is ever just good at kissing unless they’ve been with enough girls who showed them the ropes. It’s sensual and loving and sexy all wrapped into one solid foreplay move and I’d much rather see two girls kiss than some dude eating some poor bid’s face like a fucking Chaco Taco. But back to my point. Why do you fuckers beg for this to happen? Do you honestly think your opinion matters to me? Let me just guide you through what just happened and where you lost control:
Stupid Dude: “Hey! Are you guys together?” winks/looks/touches his friend’s junk inappropriately
(He lost control here.)
Me: “Are you guys together? Do you work at the Golden Banana? Do you lather yourselves in tanning oil and play butt pirates and lose his dick in your banana split?”
(This is where he thinks he’s done talking to me and talks to my friend who he believes is a lot sweeter. Right. Because girls play good cop, bad cop.)
Me: “Now, I’m not trying to eves drop, but you’re hitting on her all wrong and making her angry…”
(I proceed to eye fuck his friend and lose my train of thought.)
Stupid Dude: “You’re a character.”
And I sum up the conversation by telling him that I’m Mickey Mouse and grab some poor bastard’s shot off the table and END SCENE. Cut, paste, print, whatever those Hollywood types say.
But to me, it’s like why even ask? I’m not going to turn and look nervously at my girl and ask her “should we do it?” This isn’t fucking American Pie. That’s not real life. But in this case I wish it was because I’d get someone to blow and load in a beer and get you to fucking drink it. Nope, I’m going to keep dancing and drinking your booze that you’re stupidly leaving around and or giving to me (but mostly leaving around) and let you go home with nothing in your hand but your own penis.
What I do hate though, is when girls hate. And they do worse than when we turn guys down. I don’t mean hate like stare at us and talk shit about us under their breath. No, some stupid broad flipped us off. Like, how old are we? You have legs, you can fucking dance for attention too. Even if you didn’t have legs, I’ve seen Joe from Family Guy do a dance or two from his chair. Truth be told, we’re not dancing for attention; we’re dancing because we want to. I’m sorry the 15 hottest dudes won’t leave us the fuck alone, but by all means take them away, so we can go back to dancing and drinking and acting like douchebags in our own little world. We’re not bothering anybody, being provocative, or ruining your night so why shit on ours?
Point blank, if you’re a dude at the bar, fuck off with your stupid commentary. Man up. You should be more focused on getting me to kiss you then me kissing her. I know when that lesbian scene rears it’s rug munching head, you just get all hot and bothered, but stop. Take your dick out of your skull and replace it with your actual brain for 5 seconds (anything more is just too much to ask). How the fuck would you feel? You know what? I’m going up to every dude at the bar the next time I go out and asking them to make out. Let’s see how well my experiment goes over. “Aww what the fuck bitch? That’s gross!”. Well gosh, I just assumed since you were standing at the bar drinking together that you’re together and plan on going home to do each other. Quit your stereotypes and I will too. Fap, fap fap, fap fap, fapfapfapfap.
*7/10 guys left the bar that night with wet spots on their shirts when the waist band trick failed.
