1) Extreme PDA. When in the company of others, it is important to behave in such a away that does not result in condoms being offered up to you like the baseball dispenser at a batting cage. From the side it’s a lot like witnessing the ending of a disgustingly mushy chick flick over and over and over again. By the time the closing credits come on, you don’t know whether to throw up or punch you neighbor in the face. (The amount of buttered popcorn consumed usually decides this dilemma for you). Plain and simple rule that a group outing is just not the appropriate time for you and your bitch to exchange handy-jay’s under the dinner table. Your ‘O’ face is a far from appetizing sight; as it obnoxiously stands in the background of my sushi rolls. This vision alone is enough to trigger my gag reflex then and there, thank you very much. And to be completely honest, if I wanted to do that all I’d have to do is Google search Rosie O’Donnell photos. That’s really all it takes for smooth bulimic sailing from then on Furthermore if I wanted to inspect a couple sucking face all night, I would have stayed home and watched internet porn. The people tend to be better looking and way more talented at the genital handshake. Also, I am quite comforted by the ending of the porno rather than this bizarre PDA showing. At least in the first case scenario, I know it will end with a rather predictable cum shot to the porn stars face. While in the second scenario, I may just end up having to shoot myself in the face.
Nothing saddens me more than the sight of a full grown man trotting though Victoria Secret while uncomfortably cradling a purple Coach purse.
2) The ‘Whipped Guy’. Yes, I am of course referring to the token guy or 6 that tend to develop a rather hefty vag after entering a relationship. In some cases of marriage for example, the extremely unfortunate men don’t only develop female genitalia, but a serious looking F.U.P.A as well. This is most likely due to the allure of a hearty home cooked meal; a rather clever scheme to promote home-confinement. My favorite part is when they refuse to admit they’ve become a complete slave to a she-beast that rules their lives. The household dictator, which decides everything for them, from the underwear they wear in the morning to the amount of special tissue time they are allotted each week. This sad fact of life is particularly evident when the whipped man schedules to go out with his group of friends. The pattern is always the same. For the weeks prior to the engagement he’ll pretend to have full intention of meeting you over the weekend. He will most likely even show more enthusiasm for these plans than any other person set to attend. And of course, all this build up is almost always followed by a last minute phone call. ”Yeah turns out I can’t make it tonight after all. Something came up. Blows to be missing it, but I’ll catch you next time for sure.” And although to them their excuses always seems to be just plausible enough to save face, to the rest of us it all sounds exactly the same: “Blah blah blah. I’m a BIG vagina. Blah Blah Blah. She-beast locked me in the basement again. Blah Blah Blah I’ll call you when I get off my period.” In short, we’re not dumb. All your single friends are well aware of the fact that unless your she-beast keeper has been mistaken for cattle and slaughtered earlier in the week, you never had the intention of actually coming out and you never will. We are all very well aware of the fact that your balls made a nice little garnish to the roast beef (or something equally offensive) she cooked up for dinner once again. Furthermore, to be completely and utterly honest we only keep the whipped guy around to make fun of him and his string of perpetual yeast infections.
3) Public Fights/ Bickering . Listen up. Unless one of you decides to go Chris Brown/ Rhianna on each other, I don’t want to see it. If a couple decides to fight out in public among their friends, there better be a sharp left hook or round house kick mixed in there somehow. In short, if it’s not UFC worthy, my desire to witness this ‘fight’ is about as high as my desire to tea bag Hugh Hefner. In most cases, watching a couple bicker or fight makes everyone around them incredibly uncomfortable. We all sit there thanking God for our single existence. And while we’re at our prayer session, we are also willing him to make time go faster. There is just one exception to this window of time in my life I’m never getting back. The exception is of course the presence of crying, now that’s what I call a fucking show! In fact, the site of tears almost always makes me plop my ass right in front of you to see more. I will be sure to be facing you square on, hands propping up my chin, and grinning from ear to ear. I am just PRAYING for someone to step up and start crying with sound. Simply because any kind of whimpering or sobbing coming from the chick (but especially the guy) is MONEY! Perhaps this little sick pleasure of mine makes me an insensitive bitch. But one must admit that watching two grown people bicker and cry over who forgot to clean out Mr. Jingles litter box earlier in the evening is absolutely hilarious. So unless there is an intense physical fight or some serious Lifetime Network worthy crying involved, I don’t want to hear it. Do us all a huge favor and conduct your catfights on you own time and in the privacy of your own homes. And for Gods sake leave Mr. Jingles out of it!
4) Over-Sharing About Their Sex Lives . Plain and simple, my life was just fine without the added knowledge of the fact that my friend Bill enjoys the occasional finger or two in his asshole or getting his salad tossed. And I’m certainly not sleeping any better after finding out that Jessica gets off on getting gagged and beaten with a studded belt. Chances are that the sight of either one of the two in leather or ass-less chaps is enough to give me nightmares for the next 6 months. I’m clearly all about talking about sex, but there are certain detailed secrets that are best kept locked up in that naughty drawer. Along with the anal beads and the penis pump.
5) Insisting On Doing EVERYTHING Together . Nothing saddens me more than the sight of a full grown man trotting though Victoria Secret while uncomfortably cradling a purple Coach purse. All the while he’s making sure to always be looking down. God forbid his 5’2″ female ‘owner’ catches him looking at a picture of Adriana Lima sporting the newest push-up bra. He’ll be raised and granny panties will be thrown in a fit of fury. There is no reason for a man to be subjected to this shopping ritual. And quite frankly, their broad frames are usually blocking my view of the lace thongs. (Which I happen to collect as enthusiastically as some horde stamps.) On the other hand, another disturbing sight, which fits into this category, is that of a woman at a sporting event she clearly has little to no interest in. This one I find particularly offensive because on more than one occasion my enjoyment from a perfectly good hockey game has been dampened by the yapping coming out of someone’s female counter part. This raping of my ears always tempts me to politely tap them on the shoulder and announce: ”Um excuse me ma’am would you mind kindly shutting the fuck up seeing as your grocery list is about as important as your husbands desire to live at this point.” Sporting events are sacred to those of us who actually care. So I suggest either learning how to sign to one another, or shoving a sock/cock in it! If any of these 5 characteristics sound like you, please seek help immediately! Re-evaluate your priorities, or don’t be at all surprised to find your tires slashed, or your beloved Mr. Jingles missing for that matter.
You guys have anymore you want to add? FIRE AWAY in the comments!