S & I had a late, late night conversation about men, and stupidity and general 'emosional attyachar' over disgustingly-chocalatey ice-cream. Incidentally, 'phish food' is the most anti-climatic ice-cream ever. She thinks we should have stuck to our plan of a big vodka bottle and the low library steps. I agree. If there is ever a night for drunken binges, this night may just be it. S's non-bf (that is what we call people who we've broken up with but who show a leech like tendency to stick around despite all the abuse we throw at them) called her fat. Then he proceeded to ask her why she wouldn't marry him. We wonder why she refused. (S, clarifies, she refused for many reasons, none of which have anything to do with her non-fatness. And she isn't, fat that is. Not yet. Maybe post chocolate ice-cream.If, that is, you think this is fat. And IF you do, she ain't marrying YOU either).
Point is, we spent the night bitching about mind-fucking men. Let me tell you all about men, and the mind-fuck, after we OD on chocolate ice-cream, and S is so high she's cackling like a particularly shrill hyena (on cocaine):
They make mountains out of molehills. They decide what IS, based on nothing-whatsoever but because they have pulled their bloody conclusions out of thin air, they decide this is IT. The be all and the end all. The only explanation for a set of actions they haven't even bothered to think about. Because they CAN'T think. They have no brains. Also, they have no ears. They refuse to fucking LISTEN. The word 'logic' and 'rational' is unknown to them. Even if you're screaming and RANTING and raving and whatever-the-fuck-it-is-you're-doing-to-get their attention, they refuse to LISTEN. Their logic is convoluted. CONVOLUTED. I'm telling you. It's like you give them reason a, they'll twist it around and digresses into God knows which direction and it's fucked. They make you feel guilty. So fucking guilty. They take you on a fucking guilt trip that's ten dimensional and senseless. They'll pretend to be sweet, and understanding and that you're the hard one, the irrational one, the BITCH. While they're just trying to be-there-for-you, but they're not there for you. They're there only for number one. They PRETEND to fuck their happiness, in the process you fuck your happiness, then they sit around and laugh because their mission is accomplished: They have mind-fucked you. The basic problem is insecurity. How many times, says S, have I heard the words "don't get me wrong, I trust YOU completely, just not the people you hang around with, so don't go out, don't do anything, come home, talk to me, there's always you, me and the SKYPE baby". Fucking bastards. Men. They're cunning, slimy, annoying, parasites. They will suck you of every single vestige of emotion. Fuckers. We hate men.
But the most fucked up part of this whole fucked up drama is, they can erase ALL of the hours and hours and hours of torture with three simple words:
"I love you"
And we let it go. Women are such IDIOTS.