Woman Impaired
As you all know by now, I am a master of picking up chicks and making them come after me like… umm… A person who goes after something fiercely. Hell, even in my high school english class I wrote a very informative paper about how to pick up chicks (straight copy and paste from Maxim, but whatever). Either way I’ve always had “the gift” if you will. Well lately I feel like I’ve fallen off my game a bit.
Typically, when it comes to interacting with girls I’m amazing-ish. As I’ve mentioned before I generally try to act disinterested and when I do talk to them I keep it short and to the point. Another thing that has gotten me places is teasing them a little bit. It’s golden. But as I grow older and more self centered I feel like I’m taking it to far. Lately I’ve only gotten a couple of sentences out before the girl calls me an asshole and never talks to me again, which makes my fingers caluced.
I’ll give you a for instance. The other day I was taking out my trash, minding my own business when all of a sudden a car comes out of nowhere. I just thought that the person in the car was seeing someone in my building and I didn’t think anything of it. On my way back to the front door I hear a girl yell “hey you, blue shirt.” First I had to kind of casually glance down to make sure my shirt was in fact blue, it was.
I walked over to the car and kind of leaned against her car as if to say “hey baby, you know you want this”. She was, of course, lost (typical woman), and needed help from a manly man to get back on the right track (track as in road, she wasn’t driving a train). I’m not only a master of picking up chicks, but I’m also the master of the roads so I gladly obliged. After I helped her out I decided to put on my smooth moves as I noticed she had these obnoxious red fuzzy dice hanging from her mirror. While noticing this ridiculousness I said “Hey nice dice, what is this? 1972?” She giggled and acted slightly fake offended, which in ‘woman speak’ means I’m in… Or does it?
Then, as it usually does for me, it got weird. She started defending herself and her fuzzy dice! Well, I didn’t plan for such a wicked curve ball and was kind of off put. She said, “I like my fuzzy dice and I don’t give a shit who does or doesn’t like them.” I was shocked! I’ve never, in my hundreds of years at talking to women, actually been defied like this. So I quickly shot back “What, do you have a magic 8-ball in your glove compartment, a disco ball hanging from your bedroom ceiling and are you also sporting wide bush?” Well naturally she didn’t take kindly to my words by saying “Oh my god, I can’t believe you just brought up my bush.” Word ninja Josh comin’ at ya fierce, “Why? You not used to guys being near your bush, let alone talking about it?”
Obviously this whole interaction didn’t quite go the way I wanted it to. As she called me a “faggot” and tore out, nearly running over my feetsies with her car. I started wondering what went wrong. Was it my fault? Did I push it to far? Should I actually start being nice to women? After some time of reflection I decided the answer to those questions is obviously “no”. She has horrible judgment and if this was the ice age she would have been eaten by a saber tooth tiger because “It looks cuddly”.
So I guess the moral of the story is this: Women are stupid and if they didn’t have vagina’s I wouldn’t even talk to them, even when I feel lonely in the pants.
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