the jawbreaker (and the douchebag who forgot to bring money to the candy store)

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WARNING: all you uptight people might want to stay away from the post today. grandmothers and children under the age of 25 need to leave the room immediately cuz we’re getting down and dirty.

how many times must we preach this?

are you not listening?

or maybe you don’t think we know what the hell we’re talking about?

ok, that’s true sometimes, but trust us, we’re right about this.

ask any woman.

what’s that? you don’t know many women? hmm.

there’s probably a reason for this.

and it most likely isn’t because you have a certain je ne sais quoi about you.

it’s because you’re a douchebag.

harsh? yeah, sorry about that. sometimes it’s best to just tell it like it is. pull the bandaid off really fast.

ooh, that open wound looks pretty bad.

it’s a good thing we’re here to help.

that’s just part of our service.

you’re welcome.

so here it is.

you really suck at convincing us to have sex with you.

not you, you. the general you. please, we’re not a whore. well, at least not one that gets paid or anything. in fact, if we were being paid for sex we wouldn’t be on here bitching about how sick we are of having you walk by, honk our boob, call that foreplay and then ask, “how bout me and you right now?”

bleck.

here’s the thing, fellas–and all you fellas with vaginas–we don’t want to leave anyone out–this here’s an equal opportunity bitch slap–we don’t NEED to have sex with you. we’ve got a vibrator and we’re not afraid to use it. in fact sometimes we prefer it over having 200 pounds of hairy flesh on top of us.

side note: you understand that it’s not ONE vibrator and we all share it right? that would be totally disgusting.

we need to WANT to have sex with you. period. end of story.

so to help you out, we’ve listed some things you can do that will surely have you headed in the other room with only your hand and a bottle of lotion and maybe some cheap porn that may or may not involve midgets.

1. complain about there being nothing to eat in the house.

2. shove the credit card statement in our faces while yelling, “what the fuck happened here?”

3. bitch about watching the kids (the ones that are HALF YOURS) whilst we prepare something for his majesty to eat. (refer to number 1)

4. leave your dirty clothes all over the floor in the bedroom, bathroom and closet. what are you, 7? we are not the maid–or your mother. we might be a whore, but we’re certainly not the maid and we’re definitely NOT your mother.

5. stroll in the kitchen, let out the biggest, god awful smelliest fart and then slap us on the ass. that’s actually a good way to get stabbed. see, we’re holding a knife. (refer to number 3)

6. say things like, “wanna give me a blow job?” the answer is always no. no one wants to give a blow job. ever. (my friends who are freaks and actully enjoy giving blow jobs? you be quiet. i’m making a point. don’t ruin this. i’m on a roll. like i said, you’re freaks. there’s clearly something wrong with you. we’ll visit this in another post.)

7. lecture us on how we could do things better. like organizing the fridge, parking the car in the garage, parenting the children (the ones you bitch about “babysitting.” how many times must we say this–YOU’RE NOT BABYSITTING. YOU’RE THE DAD! watching them every once in a while is part of the job description. what’s that? you don’t want to watch them? well you should’ve thought about that before you coerced us into having sex with you. see the kind of trouble mr. magnificent penis can get you into?).

8. makes lots of noises. please. it’s like you’ve got the annoying version of tourette’s. but i’m pretty sure unlike people who really have tourette’s, you can control yourself. practice this immediately.

look, if you want to do the bow chicka wow wow with us, you have to be more clever about it. we can’t have sex with you if we’re mad at you and we definitely can’t if we wish you were dead. everyone knows that having sex with a corpse is just wrong. we will not be party to it.

think of sex with us as a challenge–or a video game–or a sport. ooh, look over there. is that a hooter’s girl!?

(psst, women. over here. i’ve got to dumb this way down to a level they understand. what do you think? 3rd grade? no? too advanced? how about 1st grade? ok, 1st grade level it is. oops, they’re looking at us)

what’s that you say? no hooter’s girl? aawww, my bad.

anyway, back to what i was saying. ok, so you want to have sex with us. well, pretend you’re in a candy store, but you don’t have any money. and you really really want that jawbreaker, but you don’t know how to get it. (you understand the jawbreaker in this scenario is us, right? you don’t really want a jawbreaker. who eats those anyway?) so you work really hard until you have enough money to buy the jawbreaker. yes, the jawbreaker can be bought. so technically we are being paid for sex and my whole theory just went up in smoke.

well, i tried.

look, the point of the story is this–we want to have sex. we just don’t always want to have sex WITH YOU. so do something to change our minds. be sweet to us. tell us we’re beautiful. tell us we’re a great mother. tell us you couldn’t live without us (and do it with a straight face). tell us we’re skinny (you might even get a blow job for this). tell us you appreciate the fact that we haven’t killed you yet. don’t give us that look when we go for the third cupcake. thank us for putting up with all your bodily functions/noises. and lastly, do something about all that pubic hair. we’re not saying wax it, but please, introduce it to a pair of scissors and a razor. too much hair equals no time with the jawbreaker.

we’re just sayin.