My Hate Blog

Let me first state that, for the record, I am 100% heterosexual and I don’t “hate” women in the general global sense of the word. What I do in fact fucking hate is all the bullshit that goes along with them. I’ll outline my pet peeves in this post, naturally.

The first big problem I have with women is the bullshit that goes along with trying to pick them up, and women’s so called attitude to equality. Women want to be equal to men, so yet why is it the MEN who have to try and pick up the WOMEN? I have yet to see a single female on a night out trying to pick up a guy, it just doesn’t happen and it doesn’t work that way. When you’re a guy on a night out, it’s YOU who has to try and put in the effort to pick up a woman. You have to buy her drinks, humour her, be witty and intelligent… ok, well maybe not the last parts, but you have to ultimately throw yourself at her and say “This is me, do you allow me to penetrate you this evening?”. Women have NO problem getting laid, all they have to do is say “yes”. For guys it’s like a fucking parade and endurance contest. Not only do you have to do and say the right things just to get your dick wet, you also have to compete with the other guys out there trying to do the SAME exact fucking thing. Equality my ass.

Say you do manage to pass the dating equivalent of ‘The Running Man’, and (god forbid) you decide to see the woman again, you’re inviting yourself into a WORLD OF PAIN.

The first and most popular problem you will ever encounter when hooking up with a woman is the inevitable day where you will be invited to meet the parents. Be wary, noob daters, for this day is like none other you will ever experience. “Meeting the parents” is essentially a way for your girlfriend to get the approval of her folks for you to enter their lives on a more permanent basis. Her father (if he’s alive) will be more analytical and scrutinising than a police offer performing a full cavity strip search on you. Every action will be monitored and analysed by someone who views you as a pussy predator, simply out to fuck his daughters innocence away. You are the enemy and will be treated accordingly. Her mother (depending on age) will simply be trying to decide how attractive you are, and how financially stable you will be for her little girl. Note: The money question is always on the female mind. Gold digging whores.

The opposite however, is completely different. When you bring home a girl to show your mother, your mother is simply trying to decide whether your girlfriend is a slut or not. If your girlfriend has a face full of fucking metal and piercings, she will instantly be labelled a dirty slut. Anyone with this amount of peircings most certainly has her nipples and clitoris done, and when your mother finally realises that people OTHER than her son have seen that clitoris, she will drop her chilled salad fork in the middle of munching and let out an almost ear-piercing shriek of disgust. Your father, meanwhile, is sitting there grinning and wondering whether or not he would fuck her and what the likelihood of that happening is. Somewhere in your fathers mind he’s dreaming of the day where you ask if she can stay over. He’s imagining what might happen if your girlfriend goes to the bathroom in the middle of the night to be met by him coming OUT of the bathroom with a huge boner. If I was a father, I’d think the exact same, wouldn’t you?

If you pass the parent test, then undoubtedly the question of moving in and/or living together will arise. This is where the shit really hits the fan. You remember all the exotic underwear your girlfriend used to wear when you first start dating? Fucking forget it, man. Out comes the oversized, overwashed cotton underwear with last years period and shit stains on. You will eventually find these goddamn soiled underwear all over your floors. Remember how nicely shaved your girlfriend used to be? Yep, that goes too. She’ll stop shaving her legs and pubic area regularly, and become “home grown”. Let me tell you, NOTHING is more disturbing and gross than laying next to a chick and having her stubbly legs pass by yours, unless you’re an ex-convict. Then it may feel like home to you.

When you’re in a long-term relationship, people start to let themselves go. She’ll stop wearing make-up unless she knows you’re going out somewhere. She’ll stop exercising or watching what she eats, and she’ll just pig out in front of the TV. There’s no need to make an effort anymore, she has you in her fucking grasp and she won’t let go. She is slowly working on her global plan of pussy-whipping you into action and then she’ll drop the biggest fucking bombshell on you ever…… how she wants to get married and/or have a baby.

The question of marriage always comes up regardless of how old are you. First it starts off as a silly random question; “Do you think we’ll get married someday?” of which most men will, when they’re young, respond “I don’t know, maybe.” The word “maybe” has a different meaning to the female mind. Maybe, to a woman, means “I’m too scared to say yes, so you will have to make the decision for me” – which almost always irrevocably translates to a “Yes, I’d love to dear, when is the soonest we can do this?”. She will then, consistently and probably weekly, remind you to get her a ring. Now you know you’re in trouble. You can’t say no because although she may seem calm and comfortable about it initially, you have to share a bed with this woman, and nobody is more vulnerable than when they’re asleep. You obviously can’t agree, because that means a lifetime of servitude and more horribly soiled cotton underwear. You are, without a doubt, fucked. And “fucked” you will not be when you get married, because ALL sexual relations are put on hold. Now you’re married you don’t seem to need to have sex, and in some cases you won’t even want to. The bitch will have let herself go so much than your only comfort and excitement is jerking off in the bathroom to images of women in bras from catalogues. Of course, you won’t be allowed any porn mags, so this is the closest you can get.

The problem with women is that a lot of them will plan out things MONTHS in advance, without your knowledge or consent, that will change your life forever. You don’t know it yet, but she has a plan for you that will ultimately end up with you either commiting suicide, engaging in a crime that will undoubtedly ensure you a nice long prison sentence, or becoming domesticated and a severe alcohol or drug abuser. That night when it’s your birthday and she tells you that you don’t have to use a condom? She’s already planned it. She’s worked out her fucking menstrual cycle years in advance and knows the optimal dates for conception. That night when she says she wants to try out a new position? It’s because she hears that new position has higher rates of conception. I shit you not, women are life destroying calculation machines, like The Terminator.

God forbid any of you fall into the trap of becoming married or a father to their children. Then you have to deal with the question ALL women love to discuss. Financial stability. What this essentially means is that you lose your own financial independance and open a “joint bank account”. Joint bank accounts should simply be renamed to “Wife of husband who has shopping addiction account”. Your wife/mother of child will be given a bank account and full reign over your salary. You will no longer be able to order porn online, withdraw money or go to a bar and pay by card without her fully scrutinising your bank statements and asking why you spent $100 in Hooters. Your bitch will come home with random “items” she thought looked cute. The immortal words “half price” will be heard on average of 34 times a week. Slowly and surely she will suck the life and money right out of you.

And you know what the best part is? When you divorce the bitch, or she divorces you, she is entitled to half of your shit. Not only did she SPEND all of your money whilst you were together, she now gets half of what is left. Where’s the fucking equality in that?

Sometimes I really hate women.

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