Why am I not drinking? Oh wait, I am.. Cheers mate!
In life, you are going to be offered paths that lead to different lives and the thing is, if you pick one that you don’t like, you can change course. Nothing is absolute or permanent. You’re not going to ruin your life.
Why is the term “friend zone” so popular when the term “unrequited love” already exists and is more accurate? I suspect it’s because it shifts the locus of responsibility. “Unrequited love” focuses on the person who has the crush. The feelings being discussed are the crushing person’s, thus the responsibility is on them to get over their crush and move on. “Friend zone”, on the other hand, focuses on the crush object’s choices. The phrase erases the agency of the crushing person. All blame for their pain is put on the crush object. “Unrequited love” is something that can happen to both sexes, but “friend zone” is a sexist concept that implies that women are solely responsible for men’s happiness, and not men themselves.
When you don’t fit in, you become superhuman. You can feel everyone else’s eyes on you, stuck like Velcro. You can hear a whisper about you from a mile away. You can disappear, even when it looks like you’re still standing right there. You can scream, and nobody hears a sound.
You become the mutant who fell into the vat of acid, the Joker who can’t remove his mask, the bionic man who’s missing all his limbs and none of his heart. You are the thing that used to be normal, but that was so long ago, you can’t even remember what it was like.
all women were bigger and stronger than you
and thought they were smarter
women were the ones who started wars
too many of your friends had been raped by women wielding giant dildos
and no K-Y Jelly
the state trooper
who pulled you over on the New Jersey Turnpike
was a woman
and carried a gun
the ability to menstruate
was the prerequisite for most high-paying jobs
your attractiveness to women depended
on the size of your penis
every time women saw you
they’d hoot and make jerking motions with their hands
women were always making jokes
about how ugly penises are
and how bad sperm tastes
you had to explain what’s wrong with your car
to big sweaty women with greasy hands
who stared at your crotch
in a garage where you are surrounded
by posters of naked men with hard-ons
men’s magazines featured cover photos
of 14-year-old boys
tucked into the front of their jeans
and articles like:
“How to tell if your wife is unfaithful”
“What your doctor won’t tell you about your prostate”
“The truth about impotence”
the doctor who examined your prostate
was a woman
and called you “Honey”
you had to inhale your boss’s stale cigar breath
as she insisted that sleeping with her
was part of the job
you couldn’t get away because
the company dress code required
you wear shoes
designed to keep you from running
And what if
after all that
women still wanted you
to love them.
I’m ready for the Red Wings alumni game at Comerica… I miss the good ol’ boys! It needs to come sooner!!!