Women

Fact: All of my posts have begun with the letter 'W'. I have no idea why that is, but it's just what I did. Because I'm retarded, or a rapist that kills prostitutes in my car and dumps the body in the river upstate while wearing their clothes.

Women...

I guess we all have girl problems, except for Jay-Z. But to be honest, it's not because I have a girl that I have problems, but that there are just...so many. So many women that stress the shit out of me.
In my life, I have classified them into four groups, and will analyze their character type and how they are related to myself, while also classifying myself:

Myself (Sean): Nice guy. Opens doors. Laughs at unfunny jokes when needed. Pays for dinner a couple times. Nice guy even moreso.


Alright, now for the four groups of women I have dealt with. Here we go:

1. Women that are wayyyyyy too attractive for me. Aka "Out-of-Reachers"
-This type of lady is a woman that doesn't even try. She knows how damn attractive she is, and has the entire package. Great figure (Not model status, but fine enough to where we still look twice... and then once more.) Great personality. Her laugh makes us hold our breath, because goddamn it's so cute. Intelligent, past any mental capabilities we can attain. Comes from a great family, goes to a great school, will have/has a great job. Doesn't have a large amount of friends, but enough to be connected to every side of the city and get in to events that we, the guys that desire her, are obviously incapable of entering.

Relation to me: Good friends. Not great, because I don't hang around such an amazing crowd enough, due to the fact that I'm just not that caliber. Try to hit on her a couple times, but Jesus, is that quickly shut down by the statement "You're such a great guy, I'm glad we're friends, and I hope we don't lose contact, yeah?" *Laugh* I stare as she laughs. I: *oogle*
And yes, you people that are of that caliber will say "Just have the confidence and ask her! Don't be so passive!" Well, for some people, it's not that easy. We, who have entered here many times before, know where the friend zone is, and when you enter, you get this feeling that you're not going to leave. So it's time to move on.

2. Women that I really enjoy, but don't want to date Aka"See me in ten years"
They are the women that I should be going after. Perfect personality, intelligent, amazing individuals. They'll be the best soulmates/spouses later on in life: Love you until the day you die.
But I'm young, and really really really want the attractive ones.
These ladies aren't unattractive, by no means am I saying this. But...you just want to feel badass. They're the ones that are interested in YOU (Holy shit, someone showing interest in you.) But you pass them by for the out of reachers.

Relation to me: I meet a few of these women every year: I know I should, I know I can, but I know I won't, because on the horizon, there is that Siren of a female that I want to get with, and if I get tied down now, I can't get her.
It's like the difference between buying a Porsche and a Camry. The Camry is stable, take you places without the expenses, and will stay with you in the long haul. The Porsche however, raises your macho level by ten places, looks sweet as hell, and will get you noticed.
But you'll never get it.
Ahh, the hormones that desire the immediate satisfaction.
I wish they would fuck themselves.

3 and 4: The crazies and the shitheads. Aka "I will cut your head off because I hate my dad" and "I hate you because I hate my dad."

-I will put these two in the same paragraph because I handle both of these groups the exact same way:
I fuck up and date them.
Oh man, the crazies will ask you where you are at five in the morning, and if you're in bed, they'll ask you whose bed it is. And when you reply "My bed, you fucking idiot" They'll ask if you're saying that to someone else. Then they'll call you at seven at night (With thirty calls and twenty seven messages in between the two) and ask you where you are. Then you'll say "Driving home, you fucking idiot" and then they'll ask where you're driving home from. And if you reply with any name of a place that even REMOTELY sounds like it has a feminine undertone, such as Macy's or Sears....well, just get prepared for a shitstorm of psychosis. A Torrent of crazy. A tsunami mated with a clusterfuck of "What the FUCK are you saying."
These girls will insert hooks into the small of your back, hang you by your feet upside down, and spin you around while flashing lights at you until you feel like a POW in some Southeastern Asiatic country, forgetting your name as she transplants your identity with her father's, and you die a slow death in her Crush-porn incest fantasy.

Now....

The girls/women/littleimmaturegirls that will start fights with you just for sport. They will want you to come over, pick them up, drive them to the D's (McDonalds), buy them a kids meal (Which is weird as fuck. I'm not a pedophile. Really.) And then yell at you when the shitty beanie baby is in their bag. They'll yell, call you a fuckhead, throw fries at you, and when you try and clean them up, they'll scream at you until their face turns blue like the shitty Platypus beanie baby that no one fucking likes.
Then, they'll tell you about the shitty comments that your friends made on her photo on
facebook, myspace, twitter, and whatever else social networking site that she wants guys to pay attention to her with.
When you sleep with them, they'll tell you that you come second. In every way you can think. And don't you dare expect them to put anything anywhere near their face, because that shit is "fucking gross, you pervert fuck".
Yayyy!
And you better close your eyes, because she doesn't want you seeing anything, because you're not special enough. But don't you dare imagine anyone else. Don't you fucking dare. Or she'll call her dad and say you raped her, because she's his angel, even though she spit at him twice.

Relation to me: HahahahahahahaIdatethem. The attractive ones pass me by, as my manliness passes the best ones on, and I get stuck with the shitty personalities that will give me a chance, but only on the terms that my life becomes a Chinese Water Torture experience for, oh, five months or more, depending on how long it takes to find my balls in her treasure chest of beauty magazines (which don't help, really, just stop reading them) and dirty clothes, because they're definitely not fucking doing their own laundry.
That's peasant work. Fucking duh.

LESSON:
Well, I guess there is no real lesson, because I know the problems. Either I'm too nice, and should be a shit head, which apparently a lot of the hot girls appreciate. Or I got to stop the badassness that I believe I have and appreciate the personable women that I have around me. And punch the shitty girls in the back of the head (Ref: Donkey punch).
But it won't change. Not for another ten years. I'm guessing.
But for your sake, I won't post another thing like this, because well, I'll just comment on this and say "Lolz I fucked up again. Don't ever drive to Red Robins, because my crazy girlfriend thought I had sex with the mascot that makes balloons for the children on their birthday."