Never Fall In Love. Ever. No Exceptions.

So, you're thinking about Love, again. Eh?

Time for an intervention! Snap out of it, boy.

Love is a big waste of time. You lay around all weekend, taking long naps and dreaming of her... This sort of weekend-wasting thing can happen even when you have no illusions whatsoever. That's the insidious part.

Women instinctively know you're the kind of person that doesn't just want a woman .. they know you need a woman. They have an almost unerring sense of womanly direction that life with you would be fun and at the same time deeply fulfilling. You're putting out the wrong signals. Smear some axle grease and essence of fried chicken all over yourself. Lay around in the livestock pen for a while. Talk about the Republican party.

The worst part about you is that you are the kind of person who has a long history of being proud of the woman in your life. You have to cut that out. They want conflicting things... they want you strong but sensitive.. I'd go on, but you get it. Just get really lopsided and unbalanced. All sensitive, for example. With a cute little Chihuahua thrown in on the side. And a Latte to go. ...

So have your own ideas, your own direction and you're just edgy enough to try all the standard male tactics that exist out there in the world - and succeed at some of them? They love that kind of thing, believe it or not. Listen, kid. A woman - in the final summation - is another human being you share your life with. She's someone that makes you better, and someone that hopefully you can be useful to - and at the same time she's also someone who is uniquely capable of being a new person every day and the same little girl every morning - all at the same time. She's someone you don't have to change, in order for her to be great - and she accepts you as you are. Even if its almost guaranteed that she's going to want to make you just a little better than you are.

All the more reason to never. Ever. Fall in love. Girls are trouble. Gentlemen, let us end this post with our hands on our hearts, and heads bowed in reverence... to the first President Emeritus of the He Man Woman Haters Club.... President Alfalfa. Murdered. At the age of 31.

Does this person look innocent to you? Look closely, Boys.

My point exactly, boys. My point exactly..


Anonymous said…
Very interesting, funny man. However, without the soft touch of a woman's lips, the stare of beautiful greenish-blue eyes, and the light smell on your pillow after she leaves, what are you going to do? The way I see it, it's either us or another man. You choose.
* shivers *

This comment is undoubtedly female in origin. Soft. Scented. Beautiful....

* narrows his eyes *

Fortunately, we men have formulated - from addictive cocoa beans, and plenty of sugary milk - a substance that I can use to help make my getaway.

Here. Take this.

* hands you some delicious. dark. chocolate *

* escapes while she's distracted*
I am now commenting from a concrete bunker, deep beneath Washington DC, where the soft... scented... alluring.. ahem...

Where women - by a series of finely tuned biometric portals - are restricted access. I'm safe here, now.

I will continue blogging until my food and water runs out.
Anonymous said…
I love bunkers. Close. Confined. Cozy.

You love women, Turner.

You should build a new Whisper Door.