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Why You're Still Single

I'm tired of hearing 30-something women ask this question, ad nauseum, "Why am I still single?" Here's your answer:

What the heck is up with you? I know a ton of horny men who are just dying to get into your pants.  We try and try to do all the cute little shit we think you like, and when we approach you to just say "hi," you immediately drench our face in pepper spray!  You know, the first 10 times it really hurts!

Then there's this HUGE contradiction in what the fuck you want in a man!  You want the nice guy?  Fine!  I'm NICE!  I'll get the door for you, watch my language, cater to your every need, and the minute some bad-ass bonehead with an ego the size of his dick comes along, you're open like WalMart for that big 'ol Black Friday.

We try to be open about ourselves, but god-forbid should you find anything remotely imperfect about our personality, especially early on before we've had unprotected sex and you're 2 weeks late.  You see, that's one of the primary reasons we're so anxious to get you in the sack:  We have virtually no chance of a long-term relationship once you ACTUALLY know us.  So the objective is to get laid first, then get to know you and figure out whether you're worth it, or whether to bail while we have you in the grips of womanly guilt.  If I'm a geek, rest assured you won't know until I recommend Yoda as a name for that alien growing inside you.

Oh, and here's a shocker: All guys have disgusting habits.  When we are all made, a matrix of flaws is presented to us.  For us guys, it's a 9x9 grid and every man chooses 3.  Some are not so bad.  Some are really bad.  As you know, us guys all have bad aim.

The women's grid is a 1x1 grid and it says "Fat."

If you want the seat down, you're obviously incapable of not having control over every detail of your environment.  Just for that, I'm also going to fold the towels with the tag out and long way first.

If a guy has a big bulge and you notice it, feel free to say, "Nice bulge."  You will make our day.  Actually, you'll probably make our entire month and send all our friends into a silent but awesome manjealousy.  Likewise, if I think you've been blessed with a amazing breasts, it is my duty to so inform you.  By now, my eyes have become immune to your pepper spray.

If you want to get a guy to fall head over your Stilettos for you, just make one South Park reference.  Don't like South Park?  Think about this: You could insult the shit out of him, but because you said it in such a way as to reference South Park, he'll not only concede when you told him he could go "Reverse your gay polarity," he'll actually brag about you to his guy friends.  In turn, all the other guys will be talking about how fucking awesome you are.  In turn of that turn, all their girls will look at you like they did Tina on Prom night.  Yes, Tina. That. Whore. You. Wish. You. Were.

So, I'll tell ya what you can do, hun.  1. Sleep with me.  2. Figure out who the hell you just let inside you. 3. When you decide that my penis is worth knowing that "gay polarity" means sucking dick, then you can live your life in a content misery like the rest of us.

But just in case, look out for Tina.

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