Talking to Girls

If you know me as well as how you know your favorite Korean idols more than your mom, you will notice that I am fucking terrible with words. To put it in layman’s term, otherwise known as “very fucking simple”, I’m bad at conversations. To serve as a reference, my definition of conversations only consists of 4 words: You talk, I listen. But to redeem my genetic shortcomings, I’d like to say that I’m a little better at talking to males. Now, I understand that there’s an underlying tone that I might actually be gay but let me assure you I’m as straight as any straight male porn stars.

If you have a brain the size of an average human, you would’ve noticed that this is about why I just can’t strike a decent conversation with a female.

First off, I’m not a featherweight champion when it comes to talking. Sorry, but I don’t consider “big mouth” as one of my personal features. I don’t feel the need to tell them what the fuck I’m doing these days or which set of boobs is the biggest out of the bunch sitting across us. I’m just socially handicapped, perhaps. You see, when I talk to guys you can spew enough bullshit to fertilize the whole Sarawakian jungle. Topics can range from masturbation to debauchery and so on. But then when I’m talking to girls, I’m limited to just these:

1. How was your day?
2. What’re you gonna do?
3. I wonder what makes you so special? (also known as “Do you squirt?”)

Obviously there’s more to that but I’m just giving you examples. But that’s not the point. The fucking point is I can’t talk freely and I’ll to lie to myself into believing that I’m actually a polite fool who actually aren’t interested in knowing the size of your bra. Honestly, if you’re a human with testosterones pumping into your body at short intervals, you’ll be wanting to talk about games, sex and not forgetting how Stone Cold used to be so fucking badass. That’s all I wanna talk about.

Girl thinks shopping is fun. I think Paul Gilbert is God. Girls think their recent visit to the manicure shop was worth it. I think Paul Gilbert is secretly getting it on with Leah Dizon. But then again, it’s alright if you’re the one who’s talking about this. But don’t expect me to chip in and tell you how I tried this shirt on that day and felt like the most handsome man in this part of the world.

Face-to-face conversations are the best cause I’ll can superbly feign interest and act like I actually cared if you think dogs are cute. MSN conversations are better, because there’s this little “X” button on the top right corner of your chat window and the “FUCK TMNET I DISCONNECTED LAST NIGHT” argument. Other than that, there’s always the “Eh my mom called me. She wants to talk.” excuse which can buy you time to surf for some porn. And what’s better is that it’s the same with phone calls.

You might think that I’m doing pretty good for my standards but let me tell you this. It all falls apart when the girl is the quiet type. DAMN! I thought after living for 22 years in the 21st century it is an unspoken fact that girls are the loudest mammals to ever walk on the face of earth? These girls expect you to talk about things that they can actually relate to and if Einstein was smarter, he would’ve come up with this hypothesis:

Girls’ interest does not equal to Guys’ interest. Therefore, girls have to talk more.

I’m an asshole for ending this here. I have no idea on how to continue. To shortly put this, my opinions are already justified.