Top 5
Today I shaved for the first time in 6 weeks. Originally, I left myself one of those dorky fu manchu moustaches, but I went to brush my teeth before I left and realized that I looked like some faggy Robert Duvall biker, so that had to go. I haven't worn deodorant in 6 weeks either. Europe has that effect. If you're not insanely offensive (like the vagrant who was hanging out in front of Pločnik the other night), everything's cool. Basically, I just smell like cigarettes, which while not the freshest aroma around sure beats smelling like feces. (See vagrant section above.) But sometimes I wake up feeling like I flossed with cancer the night before. Therefore, I use lots of mouthwash; it's called Laško. My friend Megan has begun writing a series of stories with her friend Milena about some imaginary misadventures. I was thinking there are going to be a lot of crying dudes unless they get crackin' on the pseudonyms. Then I remembered this: After I sent Lisa my list of how dudes aren't yucks, I asked her to do the same for me, but with chicks. At this juncture, she has sent me zero reasons. Well, here's one:
Sometimes you're walking down the street and girls do that doubletake thing with eye contact. That move is fucking class. It says "I got all the power in the world and I don't mind spreading it around."
So, let's back this topic up like an all-fiber diet, but with words.
Top 5 ways that chicks are not yucks...
PS. Two ways that dudes are extremely yucky: smelling like feces, and sporting faggy Robert Duvall biker facial hair.
Sometimes you're walking down the street and girls do that doubletake thing with eye contact. That move is fucking class. It says "I got all the power in the world and I don't mind spreading it around."
So, let's back this topic up like an all-fiber diet, but with words.
Top 5 ways that chicks are not yucks...
PS. Two ways that dudes are extremely yucky: smelling like feces, and sporting faggy Robert Duvall biker facial hair.
posted by J Wilson at Thursday, September 15, 2005
5 Comments:
Someone has to think butterflies, unicorns and tropical fish are cool
Belly dancing, belly rings...FUCK, bellies in general
Without one particular girl, there would be no me. Thanks, Mom. Way to justify womanhood
You can have anal sex with them and not get AIDS
Imagine this: Double bed. On it, 135 lbs, 5'7", semi-opaque pink boy-cut shorts with black trim. Topless, no over-sized tee or fancy nightie gear. A stack of books on the nightstand. A pocketbook full of credit cards in a sequined bag (because she was wearing jeans earlier). A glass of whisky, a taller glass of water. A drawer with three rubbers in it. A nice piece of artwork on the wall. A journal chock up with quality writing that she's a little embarassed about because it's too good for mass consumption. No smelly socks on the floor. She could watch some TV or call her friends to see what they're up to, but she just wants to hang out with some goofball who told her he was writing a list of 5 ways girls rock. This is a sliver of reality. Sure, she farts and loses her temper and overcooks pasta, but whatever. I break bread and make little prayers to this girl all the time. Because the girls I know are that kind of awesome. Na zdravje.
We do not hestitate to boogie. It can be broad daylight and only seniors drinking punch on the sidelines. We will still boogie with relish when a good beat hits.
Soft, soft, and oh so soft.
We are not afraid to laugh with abandon. Giggle uncontrollably at times, too. We have no ego fronting going on. If you're a dork and/or you're funny, you will crack our shit up.
On the flip side, we girls will quickly let the tears fall. If you're with us at a sad movie, you'll always feel ok letting a tear or two escape your own watery eyes.
When it's good, it's very, very good.
Actually, there is only one reason girls aren't yucks. Here goes:
You're listening to some Irish music because your friends like it. This pretty double X chromosome holder sits down across from you. She's thumbing through a guide for "Slowenien." She asks you to watch her backpack while she goes to pee. You start talking in between sets. She's 21, studying to be a doctor in Leipzig. At that point, you realize that you're talking to a movie star, if movie stars were real people instead of cartoon thought bubbles of beauty. She makes fun of herself in English. You tell her about German filmmakers you admire, and when she doesn't know anything about them, she says "Actually, I'm 30 and just really stupid. I tell people I'm 21, so they don't judge me too hard." Holy shit! Is this some German prototype for a new supercomedienne, so the EU can completely fuck us by 2015. When you're trotting off from the concert, she threads her arm through yours and bops her head against your shoulder. (So, you're picking long, sandy blonde hairs off your sweater while you write your friends the next day.) Here, the one thing running through your head is "I'm one tongue in the mouth away from going 100% Gauguin." You're shaking your fist at the sky, because either she's not 27 with a van or you're not 22 with a trust fund. You both say "Bye," because people who like each other follow etiquette.
This proves two things.
One, girls are not yucks. This girl is like Jesus Christ and a tetanus shot rolled into one genius package. Every hysterical bitch just became completely tolerable.
And two, God is all-powerful. Next time, I'm hitchhiking I'll get picked up by a driving instructor or a rock and roll tour bus.
Number one...A suicidal girl is most apt to shuffle off that mortal coil in some slinky kind of striptease. She'll slit her wrists in a candle filled room or overdose on perkadan in her negligee. A man's more likely to end things with a BANG--Roman candle in the pooper, glock to the temple, infected cambodian boy in a love hotel. Apparently the langurous feminine version of suicide is grounded in an instinct to prolong life--chicks bank on the chance of being found and saved... although I'm not exactly certain why that is... I think its something to do with their function as child bearers...but for the purposes of the top 5... let's just say that they women are not yucky because they kill themselves sexily.
numero dos...All societies are based on rules to protect women, knocked up women and young children. All else is surplusage, excrescence, adornment, luxury, or folly which can - and must - be dumped in emergency to preserve this prime function. Survival of the species is the only universal morality. Attempts to formulate a 'perfect society' on any foundation other than 'Women and children first!' is not only witless, it is automatically genocidal. So girls are not yucky because they are first. Hear that, China!
OK number 3...when girls buy sex toys it's glamorous and vampy. Their toys have sweet little bunny ears and names like Delilah. When Girls talk about sex...they are brutally honest and graphic. They never lie...even when the tale is self-effacing.
En cuatro...women know how to arrange furniture and pick out wall paint. Their nests are always nesty.
5...Women will either bleed their closets every 6 months or they will buy elaborate containers and closet organizers so that their clutter succumbs to a logical taxonomy. I have a handpainted tin trunk full of photos, letters, and keepsakes. Within the trunk, the memorabilia is further chronologicalized and lovingly alphabetized in scented nesting baskets. My male friend Scotch has a milkcrate full of tennis rackets, deutchmarks, pornography, epistles, tie tacks, and dirt.
Can you tell I lost steam twds the end? Another not-yucky quality of women. They finish what they start though the end is bound to be BANG-less.
aesintexas said . . .
Chicks are not yucks because we can identify that we are settling for the guy we are in love with and we don't feel like we lost out on anything at all.
We taste really good.
enough said.
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