So here’s the deal.
A female friend of mine randomly IMed me early tonight to complain about being unable to pick out a swimsuit to wear tomorrow.
Riiiight. Like I’m the person to ask about that kind of stuff. Anyone who’s had more than a five second conversation with me should known that I A) know jack shit about women’s fashion and B) Don’t give a shit about it.But whatever, I’ll help out a friend in need because, I’m just a caring individual like that. ( hahaha… Sorry, even I couldn’t type that with a straight face.)
So I tell her that in all seriousness, there’s no way for me to give her my advice unless shes going to try on each suit and send me a picture. There’s no way she’d go through all that effort right? After all, feigning an attempt to help is the best way to get points for generosity without actually having to do anything. (That tips’ free boys.)
But to my surprise she eagerly agreed to try on each suit for me.
Dammit. Now I actually have to talk about clothing.
Being the optimist that I am, I quickly realize that the silver lining in all this is that I at least get to see a chick in a multiple bikini’s. Resigned to my fate, I eventually convince myself to get excited about this. After all, girls, camera’s, and little to no clothing. That’s the triple crown of a guy’s life.
But of course, all good things must come to an end. As many men reading this already know; women have a sixth sense about the happiness of men. Whenever they sense it, they feel a maternal urge to stop it at all cost.It’s like the Osama Bin Laden of the male -female relationship. Women must destroy it whatever it takes.
That of course lead to this conversation:
LeBron’s Heartthrob: I’m sleepy
Me: dont crap out on me already
Me: we have a bathing suit to pick
Me: and the night is young
LeBron’s Heartthrob: I know lol
LeBron’s Heartthrob: But I’m pooped
Me: better hurry and get this done
LeBron’s Heartthrob: I’m in bedddd
Me: excuses excuses
LeBron’s Heartthrob: yep
LeBron’s Heartthrob: Good thing I do what I want
So before we even start…before a single bikini picture is exchanged she suddenly decides that she’s “too tired”? Fuck, that noise.
Look, I know that she’s been feeling down lately because the same boy that cheats on her cheated on her for the umpteenth time. I understand that girls are “delicate flowers” that need to be handle with the utmost care, but seriously. Don’t beg for my help about women’s fashion, get me excited about the prospect of scantly clad women and then change your mind because you, the person who typically stays up till 4am, is mysteriously tired at only 10pm.
Me: Doing what you want, also known as crying and feeling sorry for yourself
LeBron’s Heartthrob: You really are an asshole
LeBron’s Heartthrob: There is absolutely nothing good that can come from a statement like that
LeBron’s Heartthrob: Good night
AIM Message: LeBron’s Heartthrob is offline
I’m the asshole? I think clearly, I am the victim here.