Whoroscopic Evidence

Today’s post is really a Womentervention.

Ladies, why do we try to get past other women?

We’re all on to each other. We are each other, remember?  And men, when our intuition is bad about another woman, it’s not us being some psycho, jealous control freak. We have reasons because, like I said before, we are women. We know what drives other females; what their true motives are.

Yeah, I admit it. I’ve had some drama in my day. But now as I approach my mid-20s, all I can think about how desperately I try to avoid drama like the plague. I believe life has you do stupid crap in your past so that when you get to be an adult, you can easily smell the rats when they appear to be puppies: playful, fluffy, cute, harmless, yet really dirty scavengers looking to take what they can get, from whoever they can get it from.

The funniest thing to me is that when a girl tries to pull a fast one on me. I know almost immediately what’s up. It’s like God gave me whore-dar or something. Like, aw, I know she’s trying to keep the threat (moi) in close vicinity, so then when the crap (she will inevitably pull) goes down, she can be like, “But you’re my friend!” so it won’t sting as bad. However, most women know that when another woman tries excessively butter us up, kiss our ane, or for obtain our approval that really, she’s trying to get on our  “good side” because she’s about to do something sneaky (shitty?) — or has already done the dirty deed.

It all is just a matter of figuring out what she intends to do (have done), and when.

Let’s all have a come to Jesus right now: ladies, it’s not a good look when you pat another woman on the back, only to kick her down the stairs and she turns around to leave. It’s just juvenile. It reminds me of high school, when girls would get super close to me to try and steal my boyfriend, or the guy I was crushing on. It wasn’t so much to hurt me, as it was to prove to themselves they could get something they didn’t really even want in the first place. It was just a matter of obtaining it and moving on, and making sure other women couldn’t have it. Insecurity at its finest!

Writing that whole last paragraph was sickening. Barf. Who wants to be around that person, let alone BE that person? It’s so 2000 and late, honey. Actually, if we’re going based real time, it’s sooo 1900 and late.

Just do yourself a favor and don’t try to scam other women. We all know what’s going on. And in the end, you won’t be the one with any sort of prize (or pride); you’ll have to spend your time figuring out how to wash your hands clean of all the filth your life has been covered in. Yuck.

Ladies, leave your scams at home. Fellas, listen to us when we say a woman’s mind is blown.

The Boogie Man

Ladies, we’ve all heard of him, or worse, met him. Guys, you know who I’m referring to. I’m not talking about the cryptic monster that hides under our bed and in our closet at night – I’m talking about that one guy who, under normal circumstances, is suave, charming and fun to be around… and has a giant booger in his nose.

Is there anything that’s more of a turnoff? Especially on a date? (Please don’t answer that. I fear what responses I may solicit.) As a man, there are certain obligations one has to fulfill: provide for the family, keep their (your) pants zipped, and remove any residue from their (your) nose.

It’s really not that hard to look in the mirror and see if there are any surprises left after you blow, pick, or tickle your snout (and let’s be frank: some men have some grotesque ways of removing waste from their schnoz).  A majority of us ladies seem to grasp the concept, so what gives with the men?

Ladies, imagine locking eyes with a tall, handsome man from across the room, and as luck would have it, he B-lines to your table to chat you up and possibly get your digits. As he approaches, you tilt your head up to flash him a smile, only to shutter in sheer TERROR as you notice the green thing trying to make a run for it out of his nostril.

Yep, it’s a dealbreaker. Perhaps not to be too harsh, we should initiate a three strike rule until they get the hint (or don’t). But if a man wants to get serious with this girl, there better be NADA hanging out of his nose.

I only bring this up because this is a growing epidemic. I have seen more men with nasty crap in their nose than humanly possible. It’s unreal. No, I’m not trying to make people feel insecure around me, but honestly… it’s an issue that needs to be addressed. 

Grooming is going to be a vital part of the dating process. Carry around a pack of Q-tips and a compact for all I care. Because what’s worse: having a boogie for everyone to stare at? Or having the person you’re trying to impress confess that you have a massive piece of gold hanging out? Also, please forgive that I have to use the word “boogie” to describe the offensive matter, but it’s less grotesque than the other words I could use…

As a woman, I don’t want to kiss a guy if I see him doing anything close to picking his nose, let alone see what he should be picking (removing), dangling by a nose-thread. I’m gagging just thinking of it.

I need a man to blow me away with his personality and wit, not what’s hiding in his nose. And when someone refers to my guy as the “boogie man,” I pray to sweet baby Jesus hope they’re referring to his mad dancing skills, not his bedazzled beak.

So guys, take a minute in the morning after your shower to lightly tilt your chin up and inspect the terrority. Make sure nothing is cluttering up the space. In fact, if you feel it necessary, cut those pesky nosehairs. Wipe the blood off your jawline from that nasty razor cut. Then give yourself a wink and admit that you look amazing.

Reject a woman and she will never let it go

HOLY HELL. It’s all fun and games until The Bachelorette strikes a chord.

First off, bravo, Bachelorette producers. You found a way to not only mess with Ashley’s heart, but also her self image. Because as if Ash doesn’t have enough issues about the motley crew she has to deal with, they throw in the “you have flaws” component and boom goes the dynamite. In case you’re a male reading this, and you don’t watch the show, here’s what happened:

– Ashley decides to take a group of men on a date, which is actually a roast. You know, how people roast Donald Trump, The Hoff or Pamela Anderson? This, in fact, is not only the most riveting and entertaining date in the entire history of the show, but it’s possibly the smartest. Genius, really: take a group of guys to roast the girl they’re all trying to date. This, my friends, is the equation for complete failure. The guys most certainly won’t be able to decipher if they should get competitive and take the roast seriously, or if they should spare Ashley’s feelings. If I were The Bachelorette (this has ‘separate blog post’ written all over it), I would request that this be a second or third group date FO SHO. Why wouldn’t you? It weeds out the idiots ASAP. If you have common sense and know how to woo a lady, you know what’s acceptable and what isn’t, i.e. not harassing a girl about her looks or features that cannot be changed.

– With all that said, it appears most of these guys have not one brain cell. While some of the guys play it safe, an absurd amount of guys give her crap about her small rack, or as they say, “small tits.” As in, small ta-tas. As in, furiously and continuously reminding her she has small boobs, that most guys are ‘boob guys’ and she doesn’t have them, blah blah blah. The hilarious part is that there is this one dude who wears a mask every episode who revealed himself last night. He hides his face so Ashley will “get to know the real him”, which sounds nice, except boyfriend is hella boring, a total buzzkill, and appears to be hiding his age more than anything else. During the roast, homeboy is like, “Hey Ashley, wait, what is that? (Looks at the floor, squinting.) Oh yeah, that’s right. I found your boobs.” HAHA????  And with the quote of the night, Ben “I look like Josh Groban/I wear a bowtie”  F. (I actually really like Ben F. even regardless that he cannot pull off a bowtie) is like,

“This guy hasn’t even revealed himself 15 minutes and he’s all like, Boop, ‘Here’s my face, you have small tits.'”

What-the-hell-did-he-just-say William

– The Bastard of the Ball ends up being the guy most of us fell in love with last Monday, William. OH William. Let me tell you about Baby Boy the Prince:  He looks just like the Duke of Cambridge (that’s Prince William, the guy that just married Kate) — the better looking version. William lost his dad and was absolutely precious, but everyone was concerned when he admitted most girls break up with him and end up marrying the next guy they date. He has a track record of this. It’s probably a flaming red flag, but we didn’t know why… until tonight.

He not only talks crap about Ashley’s cup size, but manages to also make her feel like crap about — get ready — being HERSELF! She comments on how William and she had the best date of all so far, and how he seems to know her the best, so his roast will be funny. Instead, he comments about how he was disappointed she wasn’t Emily or Chantal O., two girls most of America was hoping would be the next Bachelorette. It was brutal to watch. (PS: Google them.)

– Then Ashley is sobbing in a corner and this royal dillhole named Bentley (who, not surprisingly, is the best looking on the show) comes over to (direct quote) “mess with her head” because, well, he’s a royal dillhole.


Let’s get something clear, gentlemen. Yes, I’m talking to you. Because only gentlemen read this blog and none of you would ever do this crap, right? I’m going to quote Kris Humprhies because THIS QUOTE is the single most true thing I’ve read in awhile:

“Reject a woman, and she will never let it go. One of the many defects of their kind. Also, weak arms.”
So, minus the two last sentences (guess he wasn’t cray-cray in love with Kim yet), ZING! Uhhhh why in the Sam Hill did any of these guys feel it was okay to start harassing her about her chest size? I mean, really? Didn’t you people learn in grade school about women and their breasts? As in, DON’T TALK ABOUT THEM unless you like them?  I’m going to direct quote my 42-year-old boss: “Kirbie, I know because I am one: men are animals. They’re pigs. Filthy.” (Examples: Weinergate, The Governator, Tiger Woods.)
Listen, I get it if you’re roasting a close friend or something, poking fun is, well, all in good fun. But the girl you’re vying for love from? Negative, ghostwriter. I applaud the guy who had enough brain cells to only jab at the rest of the contestants and not Ashley herself. To the guys constantly knocking at her boobs, I want to punch them all in the face. YOU ALL ARE IDIOTS. IDIOTS!
True life: every woman has had a man in her life say something about her physical appearance that tears her to shreds. She picks herself up and pieces her back together, but she never forgets those times.
For me, the guys I date always talk about how short I am and kid that they wished I was a few inches tallerNow, I know they didn’t have bad intentions (debatable, given who we’re referring to), and they weren’t trying to be critical. In fact, most guys I dated were complimentary in some fashion and made me feel pretty. And it wasn’t something they consistently joked about, but when it would come up, it was like, “I wonder why they keep mentioning it?” It slowly took a toll on me, when before I had loved being my height. Why do other people have to rain on my parade?
Why is this always brought up? I don’t know. I don’t think men usually think about the future, but I think they think about their future children’s height and how it affects their athletic prowess. Two things: You can have a short wife and birth tall children (see Drake & his mom). Also, shorter athletes make great shortstops and point guards. They still have a chance, bro! THEY STILL HAVE A CHANCE! And I’m not really even short by most social standards.


Well… that was not the tangent I wanted to go on. No hard feelings, bygones are bygones, but I wish all of them would have laid off that one thing.

Now I’ve learned that no matter the situation, even if someone else wants me to change or doesn’t appreciate things I literally cannot change, I do appreciate them.  I like my curves, my stomach, I wish my legs where smaller but whatever; I like my feet and my hair. Why should it matter if someone else doesn’t like my inherited traits? Obvious answer: because they are people I care about. Those words resound the most.
So, after divulging all this private info, what am I trying to say? Seriously guys, I don’t care if you’re just dating a girl, getting serious or have been together for four years, but your words can lift up us or tear us down. Be wise with them.
Even this morning, Joel Osteen reminded me the power of words with Proverbs 18:4, “A person’s words can be life-giving water; words of true wisdom are as refreshing as a bubbling brook.” (New Living translation) Just a few words can reignite somebody, or break their spirit.
You always want to make your girlfriend (or whoever) feel good about themselves. Talking about their unappealing physical traits (or lack thereof) doesn’t make us feel good. Constructive criticism is great, but harassing us about things we can’t do anything about? Uh, that’s going to be an issue… and it’s not going to get you in a relationship, get you laid… none of the above.
We want to feel like we’re beautiful, everything you could want and more — not less. Even if you love the fact that we have small boobs or a crooked nose or whatever-the-heck it is, if you tell us in any other way except “Your chest is perfect” or “I love that your nose has character” and so on, it’s going to hurt our feelings. Furthermore, don’t compare us to other women. Even if you do, don’t ever let us hear it. Once we feel rejected or not good enough, it’s going to be a long, hard fight to win us back over. How are we supposed to trust you? You hurt our heart. It’s going to take some divine intervention to get that back.
While your words can break our spirit, remember, they can and should be meant to lift us up! Why have the gift to help others and not use it? Take your words and use your them for hope, healing, restoration, whatever. In this case, the men need to use their words to comfort Ashley, but sadly, none of them seem to do the trick. All she needed to hear were two words: “You’re beautiful.” Or better yet, “I’m happy it was you.” Two to five words and her heart would be a little less achy. *Side note, learn how to comfort a woman. It will be one of the best tools you have to offer.
If you want to learn for yourself, don’t read these blogs. Just watch The Bachelorette. It’s pretty good at depicting what to and what not to do when dating. And it’s sure as heck more entertaining. As for William, we will see if she “lets it go” or if he is kicked to the curb in the end.