How's this for misogynistic?

A guy I know had a baby recently. That has got to be one of the more intense things that can ever happen to you. It’s mind blowing. You have produced a human being, a tiny, screaming version of yourself that is completely dependent on you for everything. I’m having trouble conveying my feelings on this point. I shudder as I type.

I think I want kids in theory. But it’s a vague, ambiguous desire that I would only wish on a far future version of myself. Let that poor old bastard deal with that. I’m busy drinking and getting into adventures with my idiot buddies. The fact that people who are much younger/dumber/financially instable than me are having kids is ludicrous.

The only thing crazier than fathering a child has got to be becoming a mother. YOU HAVE A PERSON GROWING INSIDE OF YOU! AAHHHH! That’s some science fiction shit right there. I know… I know… it’s natural and beautiful and all that, but good grief man. That’s nuts. Consider it objectively for a second. That’s a person. It’s inside of you. He/she is going to escape and then drink milk out of you like you were a soda fountain. AAAHHHH!!!

I guess all of life’s processes are pretty crazy when you take a step back and break them down. I mean, the fact that you can take a peanut butter sandwich and use it for fuel to run a mile is pretty darn wacky too. But something about pregnancy just strikes me as a little surreal. It just seems like it should be harder to make a sentient creature. Two people, a couple jagerbombs, and a momentary lapse in judgment should not be enough to spawn something that could grow up to write a novel, play an instrument, or for that matter even just get stoned and play super smash brothers.

When it comes down to it I know objectively that birth is just a natural part of life. Hell, I was even a baby once. Somehow though, I just can’t quite wrap my mind around the whole thing. Oh well, that what I like to call a problem for “Future Michael”.

27 Dresses Sucked

I had a period of writer’s block recently and I decided to reach out for a little help from my friends. One of the great things about my life is the fact that I have friends that are earnest and truly decent human beings who are eternal optimists, idealistic and open hearted. Another and even better thing about my life is the fact that I have friends that are smart, jaded, borderline evil bastards. Sure, I love the first group, but on the other hand there is nothing more fun than hanging out with my sarcastic buddies who can appreciate the ironic and the absurd and call it what it is. This post idea comes from a guy who is a bullshit artist of the highest order, and who knows it when he sees it. I give you, “women and weddings”.

I’ve often said that women don’t marry men, they marry lifestyles. Of course this is a vast oversimplification. Wait, did I say vast? What I meant was slight. Kaboom. I got you ladies good. Anyway, the premise here is that women are concerned not only with the man, but with his job, his money, his family, etc. Not that you can consider a human being in a vacuum. I’ll acknowledge that. But women often seem more concerned with all the status nonsense that surrounds a guy than whether or not the guy is a piece of shit. Men on the other hand are more concerned with whether or not the girl is thin and has a good butt. You know… important stuff.

Nowhere is the modern, and I’m willing to call it mostly female, fixation on style and status rather than substance more evident than at a wedding. Your modern wedding is a bankruptcy inducing extravaganza where a girl gets to pretend that she is a princess. Weddings are not about ceremony. They are about spectacle… about spending vast sums of money… about a great excuse to show off. I know that your wedding day is an important day in a person’s life, man or woman, but it is not the point of your life. It seems to me that the idea of a wedding is to enrich and celebrate your life, but people act like the point of their life is to celebrate and enrich a wedding.

Men are complicit in all this nonsense, we have tool showers, and best men, and groom’s cakes, and a lot of the other stuff that surrounds weddings, but it seems like the male version of event is just a half-ass copy of the female version. Even the bachelor party, which is absolutely a male artifact, seems to have been swiped and cruelly perverted by the female sex. When, I ask, is the last time you went out and didn’t see a fat girl in a tiara, condoms glued to her shirt, surrounded by screaming harpies drinking out of penises?

Not that weddings aren’t a good time, they absolutely are. It just seems like they have exploded to become slightly monstrous and out of sync with the concept that should be at the center of them. It’s all good though. Please still invite me to your wedding. I’ll come if there is an open bar.

Platonic like a fox

Here’s a conversation that I’ve had with most of my friends at some point or another:

Dude 1: We need a good group of girls to hang out with.

Dude 2: I totally agree. It would nice to have cool females around that we could go out with regularly.

From here we proceed to discuss all the potential benefits that would go along with having a cool group of platonic female friends: (1) they could introduce you to other cool women that you could be potentially be non-platonic with, (2) when you go out with girls you have immediate street credibility because people assume (quite rightly) that being a serial murderer and having good looking female friends are mutually exclusive, (3) they could provide you with valuable insights and perhaps prevent you from dressing like an asshole, and (4) probably most importantly, sometimes it’s nice not to be surrounded by dong. Then the truth inevitable sets in:

Dude 2: Of course you realize that this will never happen right?

Dude 1: Because if they were cool enough to be our friends and were attractive we would try to hook up with them?

Dude 2: Yep.

Dude 1: …and if they were ugly we wouldn’t want to hang out with them.

Dude 2: Yep.

Dude 1: Sounds good in theory though.

Thus, the dream of the hot platonic friend dies.

On a related note. I absolutely never meet women these days. Or if I do they are either horrible or completely wrong for me. At this point I’m actually getting pretty angsty about it. The worst part is this town is full of beautiful girls, covered up with them. I would blame my horribly misogynistic blog… only no one reads it.