I don't know if you've noticed this or not, but every now and then I give the species of women a hard time.
Oh, you had noticed? Really? Is it that obvious? REALLY? Even though I...
Well I take it all back because girls have one of the most important skills on earf.
I used to hate this skill. I would come into third grade science with my posterboard covered in macaroni dinosaurs while Susie McWorksalot (not her real name) would come in with glitter, puffy-paint and her home-science-lab-created pet dinosaur which she has trained to do tricks like make the entire class delicious confetti cupcakes.
That ten year old bitch. I'm sorry I was too busy watching Fraggle Rock to devote my life to the science fair. We'll see how she likes those boogers I wiped on her desk.
But then in college I learned something - don't fight the fury - ride it. Ride it like the wind! Or something that provides a better visual for riding. Like a bike. Or lightning.
It became most useful around graduation when I had long since mailed in my college career. In my defense - it is REALLY hard to find time to buy the cap and gown, register for graduation, take all of my finals AND be an alcoholic at the same time. I'm not a miracle worker. Luckily I had friends with female parts that were not only graduating as well - but on every committee in America (North America, lets not get crazy) to peel my ass out of bed and make me go get shit done.
How do girls do it? How do you just KNOW all those important details that I don't hear because I am too busy thinking about how awesome it would be if there was a zombie outbreak. You laugh now but if there WERE a zombie outbreak you can be damn sure I'd know where all of the exits and blunt objects were. Yeah Copper, keep shooting him in the chest - he's a ZOMBIE - everyone knows you have to remove the head. I am pretty sure the first thing I would do in a zombie outbreak is rip off my sleeves. Heroes don't have time for sleeves - we have time to save. Follow me to freedom. And all the while the girls were paying attention to unimportant details about graduations. Who looks dumb now?
But anyways - even today I use Girls' Super Powers to my advantage. The other day I needed dress pants because all of my old ones had pleats. Don't ask. Like any other guy, I walked in, picked up the first two pairs in my size and went to try them on. Survival of the fittingest - whichever pair fits better wins and gets to spend a luxurious life on my hips. This is actually better than my normal method of just picking a pair and suffering through them whether they fit or not - so I thought I was making progress.
The lady friend brought me EIGHT pairs of pants to try on. EIGHT PAIRS. I found a pair I really liked and tried on three more pairs. Who does that? It was like Goldylocks - I have to try each pair in the store and ruin the fun for everyone. And why did the Bears leave the house with warm porridge? Why would you warm it up and THEN leave the house? They deserve what Goldylocks did to them for being idiots.
Bachelorette parties are the best example. A bachelor party is a bunch of guys at a bar getting hammered - really the only way you can tell it isn't a normal night is because one guy is so drunk he is being held up like a bad remake of Weekend at Bernie's. Girls go crazy, crowns and sashes and penis whistles and penis cake and penis jello shots.
I can't wait for all that traffic from people searching "Penis Cake".
But you get the point - girls go overboard. They know every single detail and plan every single event out to be perfect. Without girls to save me I am pretty sure I would be dead. And ungraduated. And that would be embarrassing - because no one likes an uneducated zombie.
Who is the hero now?