I have this friend. Let's call him...pathetic. Don't get me wrong, Pathetic has lots of friends, a promising career, a wine fridge; it's just that when it comes to the only thing that matters in this life (true love, duh!!!) he's completely alone - probably forever (I know you're reading this, buddy - sorry, but yes - probably forever). But it's not Pathetic's fault. It's mainly yours.
Think logically about how many personality traits need to line up for two people to be able to stand each other for more than one full hour. How humans didn't die vanish right after they stopped grunting and started saying things like "I have my feet on the ground with my head in the clouds - a walking contradiction!" is a wonder to me. When I hear something like that, I don't want to talk to, let alone have sex with a human for at least a week.
So when you finally DO connect with someone - and I don't mean "we both moved to L.A. after growing up in south Florida!" connect - I mean " we both HATE Renee Zellweger as a person but LOVE her in movies!" connect - stop fucking around and start fucking each other.
I am baffled by the thousands of women in L.A. who have serious boyfriends that they hate. The fear of lonliness is so pervasive and effective that girls like this:date guys like this:Meanwhile, my sad friend with absolutely NO tentacles protruding from his neck (actually the more I look at this photo, there are some similarities) goes to sleep alone night after night, and will continue to do so until his death. Seriously, get used to it man.
At the same time, I know you ladies have to pay your bills - your telephone bills, your automo'bills, etc. So I'm not gonna suggest that you STOP settling for Mr. Totally Wrong for Me But Pays for Dinner at Mozza. If I had to deal with maintaining a vagina I'd want to get some speck out of it, too. And I am a realist - I know that even though men have been throwing themselves at you since (before) puberty, it's just totally crazy to expect you to now have the confidence to be on your own for five goddamn minutes. So instead, how about placing your standards for breaking up with your bf as low as you set your standards for making him your bf in the first place? Example: Hey look! It's my pathetic friend! You like to laugh. He's a comedian! Your current boyfriend sells ad space. You like wine, and HE HAS A FUCKING WINE FRIDGE! Your current boyfriend sells ad space! Time to move on.
Are you not seeing this clearly? Why are you wasting your life??? DIDN'T YOU SEE BENJAMIN BUTTON?!!! Cut the boyfriend shit, and have sex with my friend. There's a 3-year-old Malbec with your name on it.
I am convinced things need to change, or we may end up as unhappy as our parents.
I am not optimistic about our odds.
I am Ledgin.
Friday, January 30, 2009
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