Pretty Girls

The weather is warmer which means pretty girls are showing off and ugly girls are lucky that I often have sweat in my eyes and treat them with some respect because due to the sweat in my eyes I cannot quite make out how unattractive they are which if I could see them I would probably have a disgusted look on my face.

I think I handle myself pretty well in the presence of a pretty girl. It’s very simple. I treat them badly. I act like they mean nothing to me. I value their opinion as much as I would that of a caterpillar. The only difference is a caterpillar has never told me about her boys problems and I felt obliged to listen like I have in the past.

When I think about it this isn’t some strategy. I don’t treat pretty girls badly because I know it’s what will make them attracted to me. I do it because I’m a realist who knows the chances of a pretty girl randomly approaching me with a proposition are very unlikely. It’s a lot of work to win a girl over and this just isn’t work I am willing to put in right now. Can you believe women expect us to learn their names now?

Sometimes my interactions with beautiful women come off as cold and malice; I think. This is just working on assumption. I don’t small talk with anyone really let alone someone I find attractive. When I see a pretty girl on the street I think of all of the mean things she is probably thinking about me without knowing anything about me other than I have been following her home for way too long.

My comfort level with the fairest of the fairer sex is usually awkward because I have nothing to say to an attractive woman other than to drool over her. I know she doesn’t want that and certainly I don’t want to be it to her. I tend to live my life on extremes. I can either chuck semen at you by the handful (my natural instinct) or act as if you are the Elephant Man, whom for the record I would not throw any semen at.

If you happen to be a pretty girl reading this and I treat you badly I would like to apologize to you. My intention was to show you respect the only way I could which just happened to be ignoring everything you say.

(Fuck off Mila Kunis. I don’t have time for you. You don’t like me anyway)

Butts

Everyone has one. Some smaller than others. I’ve been told by some people I barely have one. Other people tell me that mine is way too big. Of course I’m talking about personalities. Not butts like you had thought. There are certain personalities that I want to talk about. A certain select group of people. They’re your friends, family, and enemies. They’re people who are always the butt of the joke.

Through my life I have been fortunate enough to not be this type of person. Sure, there have been times where jokes were made at my expense. Big deal. Parents, teachers, and my grandma are cruel. I’ve been picked on many times in my life. To be a butt of a joke you have to be picked on by your actual friends. My friends never picked on me much. I remember one time at lunch someone was trying to tell me that someone else said something bad about me, but that someone received an elbow to the ribs and Gogurt got shot everywhere. I never did find out the cruel insult that my friend had said about me when I was absent the previous day. My guess is that it had something to do with my poor choice of friends and how only the losers surround me. Yeah, that’s definitely it.

(There’s definitely innuendo going on in this photo with that smiling teenage boy)

Not everyone is me though. I had a baseball coach who once said that he wished every boy on the team was like me. A hard worker, a nice kid, and supple butt cheeks for slapping. I have had friends who were always the butt of the joke. I have also had enemies who were. One friend always got made fun of in math class. I never got why. He was such  a nice person but everyone felt the need to insult him and say his name. I guess he had one of those names that rolled off the tongue. Like Studebaker. He was a new kid at one point and my first time I ever seeing him he was playing on the black ice behind the school wearing sweat pants. He was pretending to figure skate on this wintry wonder. While standing and talking in a conversation, he would at times lift up his leg like women do when kissing in romantic comedies. Whatever happened to me friend you ask? He’s Facebook friends with me and I still haven’t figured out how to navigate the timeline feature so I can’t really stalk him. He’s alive though. I guess things worked out.

(My friend in 3rd grade picture here on the left. So proud of him for making a stock photo. I don’t remember him looking so hot)

I had another friend who was always the butt of the joke. Unlike the previous one mentioned, this guy embraced it. He made it his gimmick. Everyone knew him as the guy to mess with if you wanted to feel better about yourself. It helped. Like really. I don’t think I would have been able to survive without him. We’d be together and bullies would approach. They’d have amazing insults to hurl at us. Their eyes would shift back and forth then they’d remember that he was the butt and I was more like the arm pit. He’d get a lashing while I stood there trying to add on tags which eventually led to me being a cool kid. I might be exaggerating this a bit, but the point I’m making is that I like to be around people who get made fun of a lot. It helps my flaws go slightly unnoticed.

The key to being the butt of the joke is to be a mean person who will fight back. I never fought back. A bully would push me then pinch my fat and I wouldn’t do a thing about it. I’d stare at him or her. Usually him. If a girl was going around pinching me I wouldn’t be complaining. Bullies love kids who don’t fight back, but eventually they start to feel guilty. If you start trying to insult them back with really bad insults like “shut up” or “so? I can jump higher than you” (I actually heard that one in high school) then you will continue to be the ass of insults. Another important factor is to have a very obvious flaw. Either you’re fat, a nerd, have few friends, or you sat at my 6^th grade lunch table. Those are the main ones I’ve encountered.

(Say what you want about her horrible Eastern European country, she can jump higher than you can. That makes her better than you)

All-in-all being the butt of a joke isn’t the worst thing the world. It’s a good attention grabber. It gives you a place in a circle of friends. The way to get out of being the butt of the joke is to stop being such a loser. Really, it’s not that hard. If people make fun of you for having a lousy personality maybe you should behave differently. I sincerely believe that we’re all a little fake. If we were who we all really wanted to be we’d be killing and napping all the time. At least I would be. Is there anything better than an afternoon siesta or ramming a nail into the face of an enemy? Cheesecake. That’s like both of them in one.