Sunday, January 18, 2009

Your tits are not a valid conversational topic, hon. Try again.

So, I realized (again) tonight why I don't hang out with groups of females very often.

They irritate the hell out of me.

Can someone please explain to me why the extent of a female's conversational ability is confined to about three asinine things when she is in the company of other females?

1. Men. Women love to talk about men. The men they like, the men they hate, the men they fucked, the men who fucked them over... and most of the conversation on this topic is degrading, gossipy, bitter and/or completely unwarranted. I can't stand listening to women bitch about the way men treat them. Listen, sister. If you weren't such a bitch to the guy, maybe he'd be a little nicer. And if you weren't so emotionally wrecked and needy, maybe he'd enjoy your company a little more. And if you weren't such a slut, maybe he'd respect you a little more. Don't get me wrong... men can be pretty stupid sometimes. But women like you certainly don't help the situation.

2. Women. Women love to talk about other women. Yep, gossip. Yes, dear... the whole room needs to know who slept with who behind who's back. And we all care who danced on the bar topless that one night in Cabo. And we're just dying to hear what that bitch said about us while we were in the bathroom. Good Lord, is there no end? Is your life so pointless and meaningless that you feel the need to find fulfillment in the gory details of other people's lives?

3. Tits. Yeah, you thought this one would be on the Things Men Talk About Too Often list. Well, it is. But it's on this one, too. Why on earth do women enjoy discussing their boobs so much? Cup size, cleavage, breast-feeding babies, nipple rings, bra shopping, drunk-flashing people... who gives a flying fuck? Maybe instead of that breast implant, you should have gotten a brain implant. It would have been put to better use, anyway. Listen, sweetie. I've got my own tits. I don't need to hear all about yours. Please. Put 'em away and let's chat about something that matters.

For the sake of all that is decent in the world, please think of something else to talk about. There are orphans in Africa, and they don't care one bit about your boob job.

Put People and Cosmo back on the rack, and pick up Time instead. Or The New Yorker. Or the New York Times. Or whatever small-town, two bit newspaper you can find. But for Pete's sake, woman, read something that matters!

I like to think I'm a decent conversationalist. I may not know a whole lot about a whole lot, but I know a little bit about a lot, and that helps me converse semi-intelligently on a wide variety of subjects. Here's an abbreviated list of some of the topics I can discuss, if not intelligently, then at least interestingly.

1. Cars, especially classic ones. The prettier it is, the longer I'll be able to talk about it.
2. Star Trek. No, I don't go to conventions. Yes, I can discuss the philosophical ramifications of various episodes.
3. Movies. And I don't mean American Pie or Legally Blonde: The Stupidest Sequel in the World.
4. Current events. And I don't mean the latest American Idol show.
5. Music. And way more than just the current Top 40 hits, too. My taste dates back to the early '40s and spans almost every genre imaginable.
6. Technology. Believe it or not, I can hold a conversation that involves terms like terabyte and defrag.
7. Literature. Think Jane Austen, Edgar Allan Poe. Not paperback romance novels and soap-opera-esque chick lit.
8. Work. Yes, I can tell fun stories about what happens at work, and the interesting things I do for a living. I don't always find it necessary to bitch about my bosses and my coworkers. Sometimes, yes. But mostly in the context of a story that will make you laugh.

Ladies, please don't get mad at a guy for staring at your tits when you talk if you can't find anything intelligent to say. Learn how to have a decent conversation, and maybe, just maybe he'll care more about your brain than your boobs. And if not, well, move on. You deserve someone who sees the real you. Just do yourself a favor and make sure the real you is a little more than just great tits. You'll be doing your guy (and everyone else who ever has to speak to you) a favor, too.

4 comments:

finite empathy said...

why can I not follow your blog?

Anonymous said...

You are my sister and I love you...

Rob Bignell said...

We're all just chimps with technology, Grace ... well, almost all of us ...

Unknown said...

Well said.