It's not cooties, I'll tell you that much. Cooties are probably the least least awful thing about girls, aside from that they are stupid. But since they're paying me to LIE write about something I admire about women, here goes:
Boobs? The way they're no physical threat to me?
Sorry, I don't mean to put question marks, but every time I try seriously saying something flattering about a member of the opposite sex, my fingers refuse to use conclusive punctuation.
I'll bet you think this is a bit. I'll bet because I'm "The Funny Guy," you think I'm "doing a thing." That there's no way Guyspeak would hire a writer to advise women who is an obvious misogynist.
Well, you CLEARLY overestimate Guyspeak's hiring process, and that's probably not the only thing you were wrong about in the last five minutes, unless you are a dude, in which case--what's up dude? We should hang out, because no matter who you are or what problems you have, you are infinitely preferable to a woman when it comes to not pissing me off.
You are waiting for a joke to come. But there is no joke. The only "joke" is your face, which I hate. So I guess there is one joke. WHY AREN'T YOU LAUGHING?
I suppose if I were kidnapped by aliens, brainwashed, and forced to pick something I like about women (similar to Sophie choosing to kill her own child; that is how unpleasant this experience would be for me), I would break through the brainwashing, deprogram myself FROM WITHIN, and drive the aliens back to their home planet.
So thank you women, for it is my hatred of gross girls that allowed me to save the human race rather than say something pleasant to you. That is almost something not stupid or smelly, and I salute you for it.
Salute you as you depart, sold to the aliens as meat in exchange for an Xbox and three months of Xbox Live. What dudes want to Halo with me?!?!?!?!
Sincerely yours,
Michael's eight-year-old self.
PS Mom's don't count.
PPS If you are wondering why this blog is posted in the "style" section, it's because there was no "unvarnished truth" section, and perhaps also because style is the thing which you all most lack aside from brains or any coolness or a reason for being here around me.
Boobs? The way they're no physical threat to me?
Sorry, I don't mean to put question marks, but every time I try seriously saying something flattering about a member of the opposite sex, my fingers refuse to use conclusive punctuation.
I'll bet you think this is a bit. I'll bet because I'm "The Funny Guy," you think I'm "doing a thing." That there's no way Guyspeak would hire a writer to advise women who is an obvious misogynist.
Well, you CLEARLY overestimate Guyspeak's hiring process, and that's probably not the only thing you were wrong about in the last five minutes, unless you are a dude, in which case--what's up dude? We should hang out, because no matter who you are or what problems you have, you are infinitely preferable to a woman when it comes to not pissing me off.
You are waiting for a joke to come. But there is no joke. The only "joke" is your face, which I hate. So I guess there is one joke. WHY AREN'T YOU LAUGHING?
I suppose if I were kidnapped by aliens, brainwashed, and forced to pick something I like about women (similar to Sophie choosing to kill her own child; that is how unpleasant this experience would be for me), I would break through the brainwashing, deprogram myself FROM WITHIN, and drive the aliens back to their home planet.
So thank you women, for it is my hatred of gross girls that allowed me to save the human race rather than say something pleasant to you. That is almost something not stupid or smelly, and I salute you for it.
Salute you as you depart, sold to the aliens as meat in exchange for an Xbox and three months of Xbox Live. What dudes want to Halo with me?!?!?!?!
Sincerely yours,
Michael's eight-year-old self.
PS Mom's don't count.
PPS If you are wondering why this blog is posted in the "style" section, it's because there was no "unvarnished truth" section, and perhaps also because style is the thing which you all most lack aside from brains or any coolness or a reason for being here around me.
Wow so are you saying that there is apsolutely nothing u like about women besides boobs?!
Actually, if you'll read more closely, I'm undecided on boobs. I mean sure, they're sexy, but they can also smother you to death in your sleep. Let's say I find the danger arousing, but in the end I don't trust 'em.
That was the most pointless, boring post I've ever read from you. If you had to write about what you love about gals, then why did you just ramble on about random shit. Are you going to get paid for writing this? I hope not. REALLY though, maybe next time you can actually write a blog with some sense of depth to it. I got NOTHING from reading this "funny guy".
What does "a blog with some sense of depth" entail? Would that be like me writing a blog entirely devoted to a calculation of the depth of the pile of crap in which you are engorged? Because I'm considering it. Here's a summary of my main thesis: "yes, 'quilt' is, infact, very deeply buried in a stinking mass of fresh horse manure. By using my sense of depth, I have come to the conclusion that the pile of crap she resides in is very deep indeed."
Hope to see more of your charming posts soon, quilty,
love austen
1. Oh boy, that was MOVING. I'm truly touched.
2. You said "she," but just because my OH SO REAL name is Quilt, doesn't mean I'm not a guy. Don't assume things, you silly goose, you.
3. I LOVE the summary to your main thesis...you definitely didn't hesitate to let those VERY creative juices of yours to flow!
Hope to see some of YOUR more charming posts soon, Austeypoo,
love Quilt
P.S- i added that lovely touch to the end of your name, because judging from your sweet comment, it seems to me like you've got a pretty hefty fascination with crap, and ummm hmm i'm forgetting...
OH RIGHT, stinking masses of fresh horse manure.
:-)
OK i feel really bad. I'm sorry Micheal for being so mean in my comment. You probably ARE a very "funny guy", and it wasn't that bad of a post.It's not even a big deal, I don't even know why I took it upon myself to comment and make it seem like it was.
I definitely would not like it if someone said to me, what i said you. Please don't pay attention to my post at all. THAT was completely pointless of me, to even write it! It also says a lot about you, and the kind of person you are for not replying with a comment as rude as mine. Thank you and once again, so sorry Micheal.
Usually, I'm like half funny and half a point. This time, I thought it might be fun to just try and be funny, without a real point. That's a gamble, because humor is subjective, and anyone who doesn't find the joke funny really gets nothing out of it. Sorry to have failed to nourish your being, and hope you'll give me another chance...I DO occasionally write about more meaty topics.
So next time you will write about male genitalia? Awesome.
Michael, WHY are you trying to explain yourself to this person?!... Especially, to somebody who refers to themselves as "Quilt." You are an human being who is trying to justify his post to a BLANKET, hmmm. YOU'RE BETTER THAN THAT! EMBRACE your UNIQUE piece of writing and forgettttt about Misss quilt. Got it?! :-D
I just figured that since all the other writers said everything that there is to possibly to say (AGAIN) Swaim figured to write what a 8 year old would say about girls: how icky they are.
(And no, sir, YOU'RE ICKY. girls are the best, always.)
Anyway. Weird post because your 8 year old self is all over the freaking place and since when did 8 year olds notice boobage?
I do love you "nah, you're alright" tag.
Hilarious. And you worked in a "Sophie's Choice" reference. This is the Andy Kaufman of GuySpeak blog posts. (I mean that as a compliment.) I bow to you, sir.
... Well, I thought it was funny.
hahaha "cooties and other national threats" hahahahaha
I wonder if you could call boobs Weapons of Mass Destruction then?
I thought it was funny. Swaim as usual you rock my socks.
I always thought is was funny to hear little boys talk about hating girls. You just know that someday that poor bastard is going to be on his knees someday begging some chick to take him back. Crying like a little bitch and saying things like how he'll change to make her happy. Yeah, you just wait little boy. You just wait.
Cliché HXC!! You watch too many movies. Even if guys did do that, girls do it twice as much. And c'mon. Michael Swaim? This guy eats gunpowder and shits bullets.
Dear Darla,
I hate your stinking guts. You make me vomit. You're scum between my toes!
Love, Alfalfa.
Psh. Swaim, you rock. That made me laugh a lot.
Ignore da h8azz dey just h8n cuzz dey jeluzz.