Your Compliments Smell Like Smegma
I was thinking about my take on compliments last night. More specifically from guys because if I’m not bashing how retarded bids are on this blog, I’m bashing how fucking stupid guys are. Sorry, its one or the other, and today is not your day gentlemen. Most girls love being complimented, but I really don’t. At least not the way that I hear these compliments. I just think people need to re-evaluate what’s actually being said. Mostly because if some dude I had never met walked up to me in the club and called me beautiful I would probably punch him in the face. Why? Because I’m a fucking bitch. No, but really, let’s look more into this.
If someone tries hitting on me via a compliment, that’s just a straight up pussy ass bitch move. I’m not 15 years old. I don’t go weak at the knees because you called me a name. And that’s really all being called gorgeous or pretty is – a name. The way I look at it, it’s not that hard to say a word. A guy can call you a fugly slut just as easily as he can call you a beautiful girl. A compliment like that doesn’t mean much to me. If I don’t want to hear it from you, there’s nothing preventing you from going down the bar to the next “gorgeous” girl. My ex-boyfriend kindly reminded me everyday what I gorgeous, wonderful, intelligent, sexy girl I was while fucking other gorgeous, wonderful, intelligent, sexy girls. It’s a fucking word bids! It’s not a promise, it’s not a life together, it’s not even a date. It’s a way to get a phone number to straight up fuck you. Like, it blows me away why girls flock to this shit. “Oh my God, Becky, read this text and look what he said to me”. Six girls fucking crowded around a phone screen reading this poetic artwork that was put together with such thought, such grace, such love. Bitch, he probably copy and pasted that shit to the other chick he’s trying to sleep with. Straight up stupid. I’m an advocate of actions. If you can tell me all these wonderful things about me, fucking show me why I’m this amazing person to you. And it doesn’t have to be anything outlandish. If I call someone beautiful and wonderful and awesome and whatever the fuck else, it’s typically because I want to hang out with them and spend time with that person, not because I like texting sweet nothings. And please, for the love of Christ, guys, please pay attention to the following PSA: IF ALL YOU WANT TO DO IS FUCK AND KEEP THINGS NICE AND SIMPLE, PLEASE SAY THAT WHEN YOU MEET ME, RATHER THAN BUTTER ME UP WITH BULLSHIT. You’ll get a simple yes or no answer from me and then we can go back to living our lives. If you’re looking for something more, treat me like a human being, not a dumb ass broad that just wants compliments left and right to keep me sustained. I also require Taco Bell for sustenance FYI.
I am only human though. I do like compliments. I’m competitive. Guys are only so intelligent, no offense guys but I know you’ve called multiple girls the “most beautiful girl in the world”. I like quirky things. For example, remember in Superbad how Seth believes that “dick taking abilities” should be a compliment. I completely fucking agree. And the best part about being complimented on my sexual prowess is not being told, but rather knowing by action. If I have the tightest vagina, give the best blow jays, and get your dick harder than any other girl out there, you don’t have to say I word, I’ll know by the goshdamn look on your fucking face Chachi. Again, I like compliments via action. I love ’80s trilogies, Disney Movies, and anything that involves blood, guts, murder, or scary shit. One of the sweetest things that was ever done for me, was coming home and seeing my ex-boyfriend’s computer chalk full of all my favorite movies, knowing full well how fucking annoying it is that all I want to do is watch Indiana Jones and Taken all the time. That to me is a compliment because it shows that even how much I’m a creature of habit, you still love me enough to do me that one solid. I’m still waiting to meet somebody that will tell me “Kerry. I love the way you require sex 5 times a day, usually with multiple people in public places or involving kinky ass shit. The fact that you always smell of tequila is a major turn on. There is nothing I enjoy more than listening to you stumble in at 3AM after a raunchy night at the strip club and begging me to make you pizza bites. It’s Sunday afternoon and football is on so I’ll set you up in bed with SVU because I’ll be watching the game. God, please continue to rap every lyric to every song and blast your whiny pop punk and hardcore music. I’ll let you play my new video game and then not get mad when I can’t get my controller back. It’s 4 in the afternoon and you haven’t showered but you smell like heaven. And yes, of course we can get all the puppies at the shelter.” I’m still waiting for this person. I know I’m beautiful. I’m sorry. I own a mirror. It’s hard not to stare. But if you can put up with me, that is the largest compliment out there for me.
Honestly, I just hate fucking games. Say what you really think, please. If you think I’m dressed like a slut and it makes you want to bust a load in your pants, come up to me and tell me exactly that. I’ll probably laugh and weigh the odds. Don’t tell me that I’m the most beautiful girl on the planet and that your life would be lost without me in it. I’d probably call you gross. And not because I don’t appreciate it or wouldn’t like to get to know you either as a person or sexually, but because you’re either lying to get something or don’t know how to start a conversation. That to me is just a major fucking turn off. And I am much happier when turned on.
*9/10 dudes are still terrified to just come up to me and tell me they want to bend me over and give me the D. And honestly, most of them should be.
