Girls poop too!

“You know what you're problem is? You're putting the pussy on a pedestal.”

And I was…

Why was I putting this hypothetical vagina on sacred ground?

Are women not people just like you and me? (Well, not JUST LIKE you and me….but they are just regular people)

This is a lesson that I have learned, and wish I had earlier.

Girls DO fart.

Girls DO poo.

Girls do nasty things that I do and even though they may hide it better, they are not sexy robots sent from the future without digestive systems and the life goal of pleasuring men. (Half true)

The fact that a girl would fart always seemed taboo to me. I didn’t wanna see it. I didn’t wanna hear it. I most certainly wanted to smell it. I mean…. Well, there’s no editing allowed in this blog so, I digress. I just digressed a little in my pants….what was I saying? OH. I always wanted to just pretend that girls were these ominous beings that looked pretty, smelled great and frankly just remained the best they could be at all times. This can get you into trouble, you see. Can YOU compete with someone who can eat 2 tacos and not let out a little putt putt, its ok, oops my cd just skipped and everyone just heard you let one rip? Well I can’t, and I’m me…I had a little coffee, so I’m gonna digress again…



So what did this all entail? Well, the comparison between a guy and girl was just unfair. It was Roger Federer vs. anyone but Nadal. It was Bugs Bunny vs anyone but the Monstars. It was like the blind woman that represents law, but pushed over and taken advantage of (with a gavel!). Just unfair.

So how am I going to get a girl when she’s so much better than me. This isn’t a Seth Rogen movie. Plus that guys fucking hilarious. I’m good, but I am not superbad, though I can dance…



Take a look around though. There are very few good looking males. And a lot of couples. So why are all these pitiful men with beautiful, slightly below average in terms of intelligence women? The reason is simple and in the title of this god-forsaken blog entry. Girls—wait for it—I hope you’re not lactose intolerant because I just bought you some expensive milk chocolate—and that would be really bad because—Girls POO!

EUR-mother F*&^%(ng---No! Your Mother Fu—EKA
That’s secret twelve of life. Can you believe it?

So the next time you walk up to a girl who you think is too good looking for you, which is likely most if not all of them, just remind yourself: “She poos too, just like you. And that just rhymed so you know its true. She might also be as bad as you with toilet paper and get it all over her hands and then realize she’s out of soap, then hang out with you.”

………

Just hope she rejects you like she should.


Good luck and eat your beans.

Thinkers and Doers

I was about to write this entry into the blogosphere, coming up with some quirky ideas, when I actually had an example occur during the process. More in a minute.

There are thinkers and there are doers. I am a thinker. I rarely do. I’d like to do. My brain for some reason does not want me to do, rather it would like to gain the experience points by thinking about it. This is why my brain is a level 23 Lich King, while I’m a level 8 noob feeder.

A shout out to the gays.

Anyhway, something comes to pass. One person will ask why it happens, another will respond.

A possibility for something to happen comes to pass. One guy asks himself “could or will this happen?”, the other MAKES it happen.

I am the first, trying to become the second person. Why? Because I’m sick of thinking, while I could be doing. I’d like to get in better shape, but thinking about what I can or cannot do in order to make that happen won’t actually make that happen. If it could, I’d be ripped like Stein on a Saturday, but in a muscular way.

So what happened while I was about to write this? Brief synopsis:

§ Grade 9, hung out with burnouts
§ Beautiful girl in group, dated a guy 3 years older and then the guy who enjoyed going to westmount to break jaws, literally. Also, the second guy punched a girl in the face, in school, with hundreds of witnesses.
§ Girl left school for new school
§ I see her in one of my classes last year. Still beautiful, hanging out with non-douches.
§ Didn’t say hi to her once…(Mostly because there was no chance, Jenna was in my class and we all know how that must have been like…[There was a chance, that was a joke, mostly])

So Facebook tells me I might know this person, literally 7 minutes ago. Its that girl. Have I lost my chance? Who knows. Should I add her anyway, ask if she was in my class last year, if she even remembers me, and play dumb or state how dumb I was or am? Probably, who cares! What bad can happen? I didn’t do it. I should’ve right away in keeping with my preaching. There’s nothing to lose! To count my opportunity losses due to overthinking and not doing, I would need a fucking graphing calculator.

If Bill Haverchuck can make out with Vicki Appleby in a closet, so can I!



Figuratively speaking of course. I can’t yet manipulate the space time continuum or enter the television world, though it would be strange living for 30 minutes every week…

On the bright side, I did 45 minutes of cardio today. Step 1 to a better bod. How can it be better you ask? I know, right! But you’ll see. Step 2 (crunches) is the next goal. If I could only get out of this chair…