The rendezvous began with hot, passionate sex. Or at least it was hot. Like, the air conditioner didn’t work or something. I think it was passionate sex. I’m a guy so there really is not much difference between passionate sex, dispassionate sex, healthy sex, good sex, unhealthy sex, bad sex, dirty sex, clean sex, raunchy sex, or puritanical sex.
Just kidding.
I’m a sensitive guy. I write poetry and shit.
So, I can say with quiet confidence that the rendezvous be began with hot, passionate sex.
Life has its ups and downs. Hot, passionate sex at the beginning of a rendezvous is certainly in the “ups” category.
But I digress. From something.
A few weeks ago my sweet sweet ex ex girlfriend called me up.
“Hey. How’s your womanizer lifestyle going?”
That’s how she started the conversation.
Incidentally, my sweet sweet ex ex girlfriend is not always so sweet these days. She can’t decide if she loves me or hates me and gets offended at the slightest transgressions. In her defense, she formerly used me for both my body and my money, and now I live 400 miles away and ain’t got no job. She’s like, disoriented.
“Hey. How’s your womanizer lifestyle going?”
“Uh. What? I’m not a womanizer.”
And I’m not. At least not on purpose.
The following three categories that women place guys into have been well-documented.
- Marry him. Or at least have some sort of long-term relationship with him.
- Sleep with him a few times.
- Friend him!
Which category do you think I am usually placed in? If you said, “No woman in their right mind would put you in the first one,” then… then… then what? I don’t know what. Oh, then I have no evidence to support a counter-argument.
Actually, women consistently want to be my friend. And that’s cool, I guess. A lot of times they want to hear wild and crazy stories about other women. Or they just want to talk. And like I said that’s cool. I like to talk too.
But, usually women just want to sleep with me a few times. Or a lot of times.
Now I know some of you are thinking.
“Shut the fuck up. Quit bragging.”
I swear I’m not bragging. I’m actually sort of like, complaining.
“Complaining? What the fuck? I wish I had those kind of problems.”
Well. Maybe you do maybe you don’t. It’s like when you’re a kid and someone tells you when you get older your possessions end up possessing you. Since you own merely a few video games and one book you have a difficult time envisioning such a radically different state of existence. But then one day your grandfather gives you a boat and you have to pay hella money to store it somewhere and you go to that storage place and you work on it and your girlfriend dumps you out of frustration from you spending so much time and money on something besides her and then you have to move and try to sell the boat but no one will buy it so as a last resort you try to donate it but no one wants it even as a donation so then you call up a junkyard and they say you need to pay a few hundred dollars to dispose of it. Your boat owns you. If it could talk it would say “PWNED! MOTHERFUCKER!”
That’s just like, a hypothetical example.
More on this subject later.
5 responses so far ↓
1 Jim // Apr 27, 2009 at 2:06 pm
I love the “hypothetical”.
I still don’t get your “problem”. Are you trying to say women wanting to have sex with you is a problem because you end up just having sex all the time and don’t get anything else done? Or is it a problem because you can’t get any sort of meaningful relationship?
2 ramona // Apr 27, 2009 at 2:57 pm
this is rather good. i like this one. maybe it’s the sexual references who knows.
3 Allen // Apr 28, 2009 at 7:13 am
Good stuff. All truth.
4 Ross // May 11, 2009 at 7:41 pm
I think I get it… the “problem” thing.
What I think Ian is saying is woman are like boats: when it starts to sink you need to make it ashore fast!… or just play in shallow waters like me =)
5 Rachel // May 27, 2009 at 8:28 pm
Your boat situation reminds me of my wedding dress situation except your roommate couldn’t buy your boat and wear it as his Halloween costume. Or could he?
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