I’m currently reading Nietzsche (which makes me sound way smarter than I really am) and I’m noticing he’s a bit of an asshole; even worse when he mentions women. On a chapter, however, he goes on and on about how our (I’m talking to my bitches here) biggest enemy are other girls; even though we have a personal love for ourselves, we still carry an impersonal disgust for women. I so wanted to call him a dick but, instead, I found myself agreeing with him.
My best friends have always been females and that’s not changing anytime soon; although, if I have to be in a room full of people, I prefer them to be all guys. Not because I’m a horndog looking for an orgy, simply because they are easier to talk to. As if a life of reinforcement didn’t do, these past days showed me Nietzsche had a point.
The context here is lame and boring. You just need to know that all the girls from my residence had to go downstairs to help with something; I was on my way but something stopped me. An hour later I ran into a girl from my floor with whom I rarely talk to. She must have had her period or a stick up her ass since she thought it would be nice to bitch about the fact that I didn’t go downstairs; I considered my options:
Explain to her what happened.It would lead to her telling me what I should have done.
Tell her not be such a drama queen.I don’t have the balls.
d) … whatthehell, play dead.
I waited for her to finish and kept walking. Didn’t say a word. It was fun.
I know how this will sound so I’ll start by saying: I like my brother’s girlfriend (not in that way), I think she’s lovely; I’m guessing she doesn’t think I’m disgusting, either. Even so, when we both arrived back in town, after weeks of not seeing him, hell broke loose in a very girly way:
“No. Hang out with her… She’s your girlfriend/sister, of course you have to be with her”
We ended up having dinner, the three of us, at her place; I pretended to fall asleep on the couch, so they wouldn’t feel bad for leaving me alone.
(I don’t want to be a cockblock).
Back at my brother’s apartment, where his adorable roommate was being handsome as always. He decided to give me this hat that he didn’t use, just because it made me look more like a Mexican (it’s not a sombrero at all but attractive people can get away with stupid comments). When his girlfriend found out, hell broke loose, again, this time including shouting, tears and “you’re such an inconsiderate pig!”; she really wanted that hat and it wasn’t a gentleman move from him to give it to somebody else.
They made up. I have very strict instructions to take the hat and never bring it back.
Even though I hate happy couples and want to see them burn, I’m not proud that my mere existence creates such chaos.
*I’m not cool enough to have real bitch fights.