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Rant That Thread About Women Started By A Straight Dude

EveryDayAmnesiac

I guess I just wasn't made for these times.
Let's start with the obvious.

What in the goddamn hell is wrong all of you?

And then I meet a girl who makes this quote before she goes back to sleep after drinking all my blood orange juice? That shit is expensive.

And she left her dirty dishes in the bedroom!






I have not understood females since I was a teenager.
 
main-qimg-9513cacb4ed2ef4d7274679f6c98673b.jpeg
 
So my young little lady friend introduces me to this YouTuber or TikToker or whatever the fuck you kids call it, and then she gets mad that I'm crushing on her. What the fuck is that?

If you have ten minutes to kill, this is an entertaining but silly video. God it makes me feel old though.


 
So my young little lady friend introduces me to this YouTuber or TikToker or whatever the fuck you kids call it, and then she gets mad that I'm crushing on her. What the fuck is that?

If you have ten minutes to kill, this is an entertaining but silly video. God it makes me feel old though.




Back in the Blair Witch days
Motion sickness watching a movie
 
...why are woman attracted to guys that are useless humans and treat them like shit? they might treat shit better than their woman...
...and why do they not appreciate the men who are real men and treat them like a queen? this is one thing i've never understood... i was always under the impression woman wanted to be respected and treated right... but maybe i was raised wrong and my parents were ass backwards because they had a "fairy tail type love" for each other...
 
There are no fairy tales left??!! You've got to be bloody killing me, mate.

Lady friend spent all goddamn night when we both couldn't sleep searching for a random post of mine own, because she thinks it's fun, to find one which she would be insistent upon me to repost, and she chose this:


Yep. Definitely needed to start a new thread about this.

So... there I was. Just minding my own business. Raging alcoholically drunk. Had just arrived at work. And was weeping uncontrollably ... at work. Nearly 40 goddamn years old and working for near minimum wage at a fucking laundromat. I've made some poor decisions in my life. I was fired today.

Yeah, so I had woken up early because of passing out early, and then drank a ridiculous amount of alcohol because the existential sadness is in my goddamn bones, and then listened to Sparklehorse. Then I started thinking about my ex-wife who won't even speak to me anymore and how I never got over her and how my life has been a downward spiral of drug abuse and despair and emptiness and self-pity and self-loathing and self-mutilation ever since she divorced me while I was in jail and how we continued dating for a year after she divorced me because ... it was that kind of thing ...

I had also drank some pineapple juice. You gotta be thinking about your health.

But yeah, then I started to feel a certain sort of .... uh ... rumbling in my lower region. A loud gurgling sort of rumbling. A week-old pulled pork taco sort of gurgling rumble. Last night was rearing its ugly head again. Thematically speaking, my past was catching up with me ... pretty much immediately. This was some serious goddamn shit. Not to be taken lightly. Still, no big deal, right?

But then, everything changed. And not for the better. More on that later.

Let me go back a bit. Please.

See, I was wearing my best underpants. Minimal shit stains. Not too many holes. Decent elasticity. Still the same color - light grey - as when I purchased them. Tried and true. Dependable. Really not even that many cum stains. You could set your watch to these boxer briefs. Maybe not the flashiest, but they got the job done. They held my junk, for fuck's sake. Honestly, the back end stains were barely noticeable - barely even perceptible, really. I loved those underpants. Almost as much as I loved the woman who so wisely left me and my underpants so many years ago.

That will be an Oscar-winning metaphor next year. But you, dear reader, got to hear it here first. Lucky devil.

So yeah, I fucking loved her. I sorta knew it then, but not really, but kinda. Now I know for certain. She was the best thing to ever happen to me. And I fucked it up. I, like, TOTALLY fucked it up. I let her slip away. I was a fucking idiot. I loved her. Who I am today is because of her. I might be a fucked up piece of shit, but I'm the fucked up piece of shit that she created, and I'm pretty okay with that.

Doesn't really matter now, I guess. She moved on, and I got lost to the point where no one would even know where to start looking for me. I wouldn't even know what direction to start walking in to find my way back. I wouldn't even know the start if I stumbled over it. Probably best that I just stay lost. At least then people can wonder about what ever happened to me, instead of knowing what actually happened to me. Kinda fucking depressing, when I think about it. So, I drink a lot. Like, you know, every moment I'm not passed out.

You know, I guess I forgot all about the actual sharting. I'm sorry about the headline tease. I guess the sharting wasn't what this whole crazy ride of an ordeal was about. I guess it never was, if you can believe it. I guess what it was really all about .... was me (That line really cracks me up). There's a lot to be learned from that. Well, not really anything at all, but ... hey, whatever. Nevermind.

So, we had a good laugh, didn't we? Some of this shit was pretty funny. And that's what it's all about. Isn't it? Or not. Or something. I haven't figured any of this shit out any better than you have. I don't even know where to fucking begin, other than to tell people about my sharts. So you've got to be doing better than me.

So yeah, also, I totally sharted my fucking pants. Had to throw the fucking pants and man-panties away. Like, they were fucking disgusting. I'd had horrific pulled pork gas all day and then I was going to let one more round squeak through and..... whoops! Felt the liquid filling my underpants. Total squirt-ageddeon. I mean, it was leaking down past my underpants immediately. I ran to the restroom and looked at what I'd done, and then quickly wished I hadn't. It was a fucking nightmare. But I'm okay with it. Because shit happens.

I sharted my pants. And I feel fine. Headline payoff! Damn, that's good writing.

So yeah, I didn't learn anything from the experience. Nothing has changed. I still miss my ex-wife and always will and am still just waiting around to die. I don't want to move on and I don't want to meet someone new. I just wish everything had turned out differently. I feel sad, and I feel lost, and I feel miserable, but that's fine. I don't know how to live life any other way. I just laugh and cry at the same time, and wonder what the hell is wrong with me. But even if I knew, what difference would it make?

motg, it's okay that you don't know what to make of this. It's okay. It really is. I promise. I mean, it's not, but.... it is what it is. You won't find a post like this anywhere else on the internet. So ... let's just roll with it, okay? Let's just leave it out there. It's childish and vulgar and sad and sweet and funny. Like all the best things in life. My gift to you. For being there for me a long time ago when no one else was, even though you didn't know it, and even though you don't remember it.

EDA


This is fucking 2021 Snow White next level shit! That doesn't really makes sense, but it's mindlessly mystically metaphorical. Aimless author allegory. Total bullshit. Or maybe just good old punch-drunk love. It also might be just really fucking weird and gross and childlike stupidity.

"See, this is why I like you," she says.

I like weird.
 
So, apparently I'm way late to this party. I guess it's been around "forever."





She gets made fun of for being a "stupid girl." I don't think she's stupid at all.

I think she got embarassed and flustered and didn't know what to say.

I am the same way when someone comes at me with any kind of math. Even simple addition or subtraction. My brain immediatly turns off and I just want to get away from the situation. I fucking hate math.

This is why I was in college prep courses in high school but also in remedial math.

Plus, she's crazy adorably cute.
 
There's something I've been thinking about for a few days and I'm at a bit of a loss. It's partly, maybe mostly, my fault and I feel kind of shitty about it.

So I'm out with lady friend, and she catches me checking out this curvy girl who was putting it all out there. No, I shouldn't have done it. But I'm a hetero dude and many of us ... it's a reflex. It just happens before our brains even know what we're doing. She checks out plenty of people herself.

So she has body issues. And she's skinny as a rail. I have no problem with that. She's crazy attractive and she knows how to work it.

But we get home and I can tell she's upset. Not in that way where you know she just wants you to make up for it but in a much deeper way.

So of course the fight happens.

And she goes off and starts screaming about how she has a "little boy body" and that I think she's too skinny and on and on.

Now I'm no expert on women ... no really I'm not ... but even I know when a woman starts talking negatively about her body, particularly her weight, if you're a dude you need to get the fuck out of that conversation ASAP. You are sitting on a live grenade. Nothing you can say is going to be the right thing.

So I try to steer to the conversation away, starting with telling her how beautiful I think she is and how I've been making that quite clear and so on, and I'm actually doing a pretty good job.

Then suddenly she bursts into tears. I thought I had said something wrong but that wasn't it.

She tells me, "When I was in high school there was this mean girl who would always call me 'Holocaust Girl' and tell everyone I was too skinny and I hated her!"

Whoa. First, that is horrifically awful for so many reasons, obviously.

And ... what the hell do I say to that?

I stammered out a few comments but I decided the best thing to do was to just let her cry it out. She cried long enough to where she passed out from exhaustion and my three boy cats came to my aid and surrounded her with cuddles.

And it got me to thinking about high school. About how all the boys could definitely be dicks and semi-cruel to each other, but nowhere near the levels of the girls.

I had quite a few friends who were girls in high school - I was that guy - and if you were a girl who didn't run in their circle, some of the things they would say about each other are comments I can't even repeat in this day and age. The level of cruelty was staggering, looking back. But I didn't really realize it then.

So is this a thing? Or did I merely go to a high school with a shit ton of mean girls?
 
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There's something I've been thinking about for a few days and I'm at a bit of a loss. It's partly, maybe mostly, my fault and I feel kind of shitty about it.

So I'm out with lady friend, and she catches me checking out this curvy girl who was putting it all out there. No, I shouldn't have done it. But I'm a hetero dude and many of us ... it's a reflex. It just happens before our brains even know what we're doing. She checks out plenty of people herself.

So she has body issues. And she's skinny as a rail. I have no problem with that. She's crazy attractive and she knows how to work it.

But we get home and I can tell she's upset. Not in that way where you know she just wants you to make up for it but in a much deeper way.

So of course the fight happens.

And she goes off and starts screaming about how she has a "little boy body" and that I think she's too skinny and on and on.

Now I'm no expert on women ... no really I'm not ... but even I know when a woman starts talking negatively about her body, particularly her weight, if you're a dude you need to get the fuck out of that conversation ASAP. You are sitting on a live grenade. Nothing you can say is going to be the right thing.

So I try to steer to the conversation away, starting with telling her how beautiful I think she is and how I've been making that quite clear and so on, and I'm actually doing a pretty good job.

Then suddenly she bursts into tears. I thought I had said something wrong but that wasn't it.

She tells me, "When I was in high school there was this mean girl who would always call me 'Holocaust Girl' and tell everyone I was too skinny and I hated her!"

Whoa. First, that is horrifically awful for so many reasons, obviously.

And ... what the hell do I say to that?

I stammered out a few comments but I decided the best thing to do was to just let her cry it out. She cried long enough to where she passed out from exhaustion and my three boy cats came to my aid and surrounded her with cuddles.

And it got me to thinking about high school. About how all the boys could definitely be dicks and semi-cruel to each other, but nowhere near the levels of the girls.

I had quite a few friends who were girls in high school - I was that guy - and if you were a girl who didn't run in their circle, some of the things they would say about each other are comments I can't even repeat in this day and age. The level of cruelty was staggering, looking back. But I didn't really realize it then.

So is this a thing? Or did I merely go to a high school with a shit ton of mean girls?


raccoon-retreat.gif
 
So ... the ex-wife calls me today. Yeah.

We've spoken only a handful of times in the past decade.

This is the woman who, while we were married, went back to college and made a bunch of new guy "friends." And then she would go out three or four nights in a row to hang out with her guy "friends" and not come home until three or four in the morning. Hmm.

This is the woman who, when our apartment lease was nearing completion, two weeks before it was up, told me she was moving in to another place with her best friend. So I had to scramble to find a place that would take me and all my cats in a matter of 14 days. Guess how awesome that apartment was?

This is the woman who divorced me while I was in jail and put me through additional humiliation. It wasn't enough to lie to me, cheat on me, laugh at me ... she had to humiliate me too.

So this cunt calls me today.

She's crying and telling me all the shit that's going wrong in her life and how she's all alone and how sorry she is but how it's really all my fault and we're screaming at each other.

Sierra decided she'd had enough of it and takes the phone away from me.

She says into the phone, "You're a stupid slutty bitch and you're getting what you deserve! You're a whore and I hope you die and don't you dare call Michael again! You had your chance and you screwed it up! Don't call this number again."

She then blocked the number and tossed the phone gently back at me. "There was talk of pancakes for dinner?"

Why is it you women can talk to each other like that so easily?
 
Think we are beyond movies and maybe looking at a mini/limited series based on the women in your life

The worm has turned for you


Oof. Those stories, they are some good ones, all of whom are dead. The rest ... me speaking freely, it would be like Pompeii. Vesuvis level destruction.




your girlfriend rocks :thumbsup:


She definitely does. She's currently teaching my 17 year old blind cat how to navigate a circle around my house. Leading him with treats. He's crazy in love with her.
 

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