By Jason
Eagle
Barbie
Everybody knows what I’m talking about when I say “Barbie.”
She’s the blonde that is just too hot to even talk to, with
a body that would stop speeders on the Audubon. Sadly she only dates
filthy rich Abercrombie models that have their family origins somewhere
in Eastern Europe from a pseudo-royal heritage. However, you know
that she probably has the IQ of a rock, or…at least a mossy
one, and cannot pronounce difficult words like “are”
and “who.” Her conversations most likely revolve around
phrases such as “Bunnies is cute” and “I like
to eat rice cakes.” This is the girl that every guy wishes
he could have…if there was a mute button. This of course,
is while they are young, because we all know that outward beauty
fades and that stuff, so that’s kinda nifty…so these
are the girls that end up getting an array of sexual diseases related
with all aspects of the sexual world, by screwing their way to the
top of the ladder…whichever ladder they choose to climb, whether
it be wooden or aluminum is not really the issue. They get free
cars, stuffed teddy bears, assorted birth control supplies and/or
sexual torture devices/toys from their vast reservoir of boyfrienddom
which never runs dry, until they are into their late 40’s
and sell themselves for any amount of money, as long as they can
buy crack, bread and other assorted necessary items for everyday
life. A simple case of young beauty and later whoredom…not
the kind of girl you’d take home to mother for a nice meal.
Maybe dad if he has a couple extra 20’s lying around, but
definitely not mom, unless your family is completely dysfunctional.
Let’s
just say that after reading all that, you’ve come to realize
that your girlfriend fits this stereotype to a tee. First off, try
to think if you bought her anything expensive lately like…a
diamond ring, a car or a box of gold ingots. If you answered yes,
you are a dumbass, and should probably go stand in front of a train.
However, if you answered no, then you are going to get dumped pretty
soon and are probably being cheated on as you read this text. Wait
for it…ok now they are probably done…about…now!
No no wait…ok yeah now. If you do think you have a nice relationship,
don’t do anything to screw it up like listen to her talk or,
try to have a conversation with her, or talk to her.
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Fat
Whore
I’d just like to start out by saying that spandex is not for
everybody. This is the type of girl that wears tight-ass shirts,
but has more rolls than a bakery truck. Every time you see her she
is shoving some object into her mouth like French fries, ice cream
or genitalia. These girls think that they are the greatest thing
since sliced bread, but actually just enjoy many pieces of heavily
buttered sliced bread. Chances are, if you are over 200 pounds,
you are exceeding the maximum weight limit of a tube top, let alone
a thong. Men certainly do not find fat people in tight outfits attractive…actually
we don’t find fat people attractive…that’s probably
why lesbians are generally near the weight of a whale or Rosie O’Donnell.
These are the girls that turn heads when they walk by, but the heads
are turning the other way and puking into the sidewalk. Over-self-confidence
is not an admirable trait, especially when it scares children and
small pets…well their bulbous mounds of jiggly fat protruding
from the so called garments of these women scare the children and
small pets, but lets just try to keep things simple and not get
too descriptive. Later in life, these women appear on Richard Simmons
videos, Subway ads, or Jenny Craig videos. (Subway’s Jared
would be a good example for this type of woman.)
If your girlfriend
fits this stereotype…dude…just stop. Pack your bags
and move to a remote island off the coast of a small nation that
only 10% of the population knows about, like Djibouti, because there
is no hope for you. I am not sure how you aren’t repulsed
by the meaty layers, but I guess you could be blind or yeah blind
is about all that is going to cover it. Also, please do not try
to use that old saying, “Fat girls are like the quarter horse
rides outside of the 7-11, fun to ride, until your friends see you
on one” because…well…they aren’t fun to
ride and it’s not like you are getting any anyway, so you
really don’t have an excuse.
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Superbitch
Ahh yes, oh ye of eternal bleeding. This is the type of girl that
acts bitchy and cynical and/or hateful to you at all times, for
every reason possible…even when void of reason. For example,
if you were to say, “Why hello, you look nice today.”
she would probably respond and say, “I hope you choke to death
the next time you try to ingest food products.” There isn’t
necessarily a specific appearance to these “ladies”
except for the look on their face, which appears like they want
to profusely beat you with one of your own appendages. They also
have “the stare” and if you don’t know what “the
stare” is, it is a stone cold gleaming glare of unadulterated
loathing that would crush any man’s spirits and send his soul
into a pit of despair and unhappiness for all of eternity. So yeah,
it’s bad. This is only if you look at the demon-witch, not
even talking to her. These people should probably be avoided at
all costs, unless you want to be bitched at of course. These girls
hate their life, but actually hate your life even more, even if
they don’t know you. However if you do choose to talk to this
not-so-elusive creature, try not to make any sudden movements, and
watch for flying objects like a hairbrush, tampon, or 14th century
Japanese sai. If you don’t want to be physically maimed or
mentally traumatized, don’t offend her with phrases like,
“You are fat” or “Holy mother of pearl, you are
the most cynical bitch/whore that I have ever witnessed in my entire
existence as a human being.”
Let’s
just say that, after reading this, you realize that this person
just described is actually your girlfriend. If so, I am terribly
sorry that you make such poor decisions in life, and you are probably
a white male with dreadlocks, or something of that equivalent. If
the previous passage describes your girlfriend, then I suggest you
invest in several kegs of Midol for her, or some liquor and/or crack
for yourself, because I’m going to assume you are on your
last nerve. I will try to help you through your situation the best
that I can. Let’s just say it’s an important anniversary,
like the 2.817492 month anniversary, make sure you refer to the
gift section and buy her something like a diamond, because you don’t
want tube socks, or whatever lame gift you have pre-packaged, shoved
down your esophagus. No matter how hot she is, it’s just not
worth it.
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The
Gothic Freakshow
Now there’s nothing wrong with the gothic look, but um, there
is definitely a point when you veer into the “I worship Satan”
look, which is distinguishable from a goth. I mean, once you wear
odd black clothing that is charred from the eternal fires of hell
from Lucifer himself, and put on black lipstick, nail polish and
that spiffy hairdo they have with their hair all…like...demonic,
that’s when I begin to fear for my life. Now I’m not
saying that all incredibly overboard gothic people have Satan dwelling
in them…some might be possessed by lesser demons like Kruchtok
or Malagasti…not that I would know the names of any lesser
demons, that live in Sweden…or anything. Anyway, these people
might hiss or make other freakish animal noises at you if you try
to talk to them, or they might cast a spell, and I don’t know
about you, but I don’t want to be turned into some random
mammal or have a fireball of death thrown at me which is seemingly
manifested out of thin air, so I think I’m gonna try to stay
away from dying or being morphed by simply trying to talk to this
“person.” These people really aren’t that hard
to identify early on in life, if you care to look. Like, if there
is a little girl that is crucifying mice and crushing their charred
bones into a powder that they sprinkle over the remains of a larger
blood sacrifice in order to appease the Norse Gods of pain and torture…chances
are, she’s a witch. These are the types of people that go
on Jerry Springer because they are dyslexic transvestite vampires
that drink chicken blood and chant to Satan in a giant pentagram
laced with their own self-induced vomit and is scrawled on the floor
with an appendage from a goat that was just blood sacrificed upon
the bones of 6 virgins, which were charred from the fire of Satan
himself.
Okay, now,
lets just say this describes your girlfriend…word for word.
I’d like to say that I could help you, but quite frankly I
don’t want to be turned into a tree, a vacuum cleaner, Martha
Stewart, or any other inanimate object. Of course, you know that
you are stuck with this girl for life, unless you either; kill yourself,
have a hex placed upon your soul, or make her dump you. Now you
probably don’t want to die, even if your life sucks so bad
that you would date someone that sacrifices poor chickens for their
blood to drink…not to mention goats and virgins. You also,
probably, don’t want a hex placed upon you, because well,
hexes are counter productive. So what’s left? That’s
right, you have to make her dump you. The only problem is, she won’t,
because she’s a psycho, so we have to go for option D. Can
anybody say Flamethrower? Enough said…I don’t want to
be turned into anything…asdfhasdfkajd !! noooooo…Today,
we are going to make Christmas ornaments out of pinecones.
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Ally
McBeal
I think we all know where this is going. I’m talking about
people opposed to eating food and nourishment to sustain life. Actually,
I’m not what we call politically correct, so I’ll just
spell it out for ya. I’m talking about nutcases with disorders
that result in them hacking their metabolism to death with a Bowie
Knife; not literally so don’t worry. First there’s the
non-eater AKA, anorexic nutcase. Now I’m not putting down
all anorexic people, just ones that look like a scarecrow on crack.
If you cannot lift a newspaper, you probably shouldn’t be
living off water and Flintstones vitamins, it’s just not a
good idea. However, I must admit, the rice cake companies would
be a lot worse off without these people, because personally, I do
not like the taste of dehydrated cardboard. However, I do have to
give them props, they did capture the taste of chalk very well.
However, even the super-anorexic cases find dehydrated cardboard
fattening, which is an odd idea to me, but hey, I’m not going
to judge. Chances are, if you feel guilty after eating a rice cake,
you have a serious problem and should probably look into hooking
an IV of pure lard into your bloodstream. The second major eating
disorder, bulimia, and well that’s even more retarded than
anorexia. These are the girls that will eat an entire mule, and
induce vomit upon themselves…mmm perhaps they can join the
gothic freak shows in the self induced vomit pentagram. Later in
life, these girls either get over their disorder and get back straight,
or they die when they are in their mid 20’s because their
metabolism ate their brain for nourishment.
So, your girlfriend
looks like Ally McBeal, because hey, you like them skinny. I know
the first thing I personally see in a woman is the beauty of her
ribcage…Yeah. Anyway, again, I will make an attempt to give
you some advice. First of all, don’t call her fat, because
she will kill herself, and you will have caused it, you bastard.
I also wouldn’t suggest giving her any chocolates or anything,
stick with teddy bears, they are low in fat, especially cotton ones,
and I don’t mean cotton candy. My best advice would be to
help her get over her disorder, but that’s not all I’m
going to say, because this is a comedy piece, and I am a truly evil
human being. You could strap her down and force feed her fattening
foods like broccoli or if you want to get extreme, Hungry Man Frozen
Dinners, which would cause her to gain 25 pounds instantaneously.
It’s time to move on from stick girl, and find someone that
you might possibly be able to live with for the rest of your life.
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Country
Hick
Mooo! That’s probably the most interesting thing this chick
is going to hear all day, there out on her little farm adventures.
She will also have a spiffy name like “Hazel Hondeydew”
or something like that. I don’t know about most guys, but
personally I don’t find the attire these girls wear to be
very attractive. I mean, huge blue jean overalls with one broken
strap, a red checkered undershirt, a big-ass straw hat that looks
like it has been partly eaten by a horse, and a piece of straw protruding
from the gappy-buckteeth of the southern beaver girl is a sexy look
and everything, but it just doesn’t do much for me. Not only
is it the look that isn’t quite desirable, but that annoying
country twang is always nipping at your ear, if by nipping I mean
being ravaged by piranhas. I personally, don’t want to have
to learn a whole other language, just to talk to my girlfriend.
I’m perfectly happy living in a world where “are”
does not mean “breathable oxygen”, “bard”
is a tribal poet-singer skilled in composing and reciting verses
on heroes and their deeds and not the past tense of the infinitive
“to borrow”, and “gubmit” is not a real
word. If you think just the girl is bad, wait until you meet her
parents. Her dad is probably a radish farmer, or something of the
like, and her mother fries EVERYTHING in bacon grease, even bacon
grease. Then there are the children…all 19 of them, because
well, a father has got to have an army of youngins to grow and pick
all of those radishes. Chances are they live on some random farm
in Alabama, since it is the “radish-basket” of the US,
and don’t have your standard amenities like running water
and electricity.
Yes, it’s
that time again. You have noticed that your girlfriend and her loving
family of Amish radish farmers, so what do you do? I mean, apparently,
you have the IQ of one of the radishes if you couldn’t figure
it out from her southern super-twang, but hey everybody makes mistakes,
and now you need me to bail you out. You really don’t have
a bunch of options once her father starts calling you sonny and
they’ve hired the local judge to come marry you the next day.
Good thing they live in Alabama and the nearest judge lives 98 miles
away, which is a long way to travel on dirt roads, in a carriage,
pulled by donkeys. A good way to deter her family is to act as northern
as possible. Use lots of northern phrases like “you’s
guys” and “f’you” and her father will probably
boot you from his farm as soon as he deciphers this strange dialect.
Please note that “Git outta mah hoose fore I blast ya wit
ma goon” means “Excuse me, but would you please leave
the premises otherwise I will have to take more violent action and
BLOW YOUR F’ING HEAD OFF.” That’s just a rough
translation of course.
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The
Tomboy
Yes of course, the tomboy…you know what I’m talking
about. I’m talking about the girl that looked like she was
a 20 year old man in the 3rd grade. She’s the type that wears
the backwards baseball cap, which somehow was copied by gangsta-rappers…to
this day that still confuses me because gangsta-rappers and tomboys
have nothing in common. She also had a dirt caked-face that was
caked with…dirt… and was always chewing gum, or so you
assumed, but it might have been some little kid’s appendage…or
something, because well she was scary…like the crypt keeper.
She never has a boyfriend and secretly has a crush on little Timmy,
who she could crush into a tiny ball quite easily. All throughout
school she tortured him every day by pouring glue down his pants
in first grade, chased him around in third grade on the playground,
stole his lunch money in the sixth grade, sabotaged his prize volcano
in eighth grade, shoved him into lockers all throughout high school
and inevitably suplexed him at graduation rendering him paralyzed
for the rest of his life. At any rate, this girl probably grows
up and becomes a Physical Education teacher at a middle school so
she can peg annoying little fat kids with red balls all the while
she is really a pedophilic freak because she has never gotten laid,
since everybody thinks she is a lesbian. Now I’m not saying
that all female Physical Education teachers are pedophilic freaks…some
of them might just be flat out lesbians, but that’s just one
small indication that someone could fall under this category.
Let’s
say that your girlfriend fits this description perfectly. After
you pull the gum out of your hair and put some Neosporin on your
open festering wounds, read the remainder of my advice. Chances
are, you are one of those wimpy guys who can’t ever get a
woman because she is afraid that if you guys got mugged or something,
you would shove her into the mugger and flee the scene while she
gets raped, so you find a woman that can protect you…and basically
dismantle you one tiny frail piece at a time. It would be in your
best interest to stop letting her be on top and you should probably
just get a little wimpy girl of your own, like a Chinese lady that
is 4’ 7” with maimed feet because of the merciless foot
binding ritual. If you want to continue to be her little punching
bag, kind of like those cool clown balloons we all had when we were
kids where you would punch it and it would go down and hit the ground
and then it would come back up over and over and over again until
you tired yourself out trying to beat up the big stupid clown with
his shiny red nose and his annoying hair and piercing eyes because
they scared you at night but during the day you could bitchslap
the hell out of that Mofo…Err, if you want to continue to
be her little punching bag…go right ahead…you jackass.
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Carpet
Muncher
If you don’t get the innuendo in the title, you are probably
not the brightest crayon in the box, but I’ll go ahead and
spell it out for you anyway. I’m talking about Lesbians. Let’s
just say that these girls do a lot of eating out, and I don’t
mean for lunch and dinner. Now I know what you guys are thinking.
“Women having sex with women?! Oh boy!” but all I have
to say is ‘not oh boy!’ These are the types of women
who cut their hair almost to where they are bald, drive around in
a large pickup truck, nickname each other Butchina, and eat large
amounts of ice cream so they become fat. So if you want to watch
two overweight sea-cows lick one another in a supposedly provocative
manner, go get yourself some lesbians…otherwise, don’t.
Just for an example, in case you don’t get it, picture Rosie
O’Donnell and Ellen Degeneres licking each other…okay
now stop before you have an aneurysm…or your brain develops
cancer quickly to stop the image. I’m just here to educate
you men that lesbians are not hot busty blondes that have shower
sex like in the pornographic movies you rent every night from “Video
World.” Nobody really cares that you have the record for renting
“A Midsummer’s Night Cream” and “Cherry
Poppins” more times than anybody else…just know that
lesbians are overweight, plaid-wearing, power-tool-handling women
that you don’t want to watch have sex with another. This is
what playing with those perfect-bodied dolls does to young girls…it
turns them into lesbians...but man, if you could only figure out
a way to turn those life-size Barbie dolls into real people nobody
would ever be lonely. Maybe if you could get a big enough box like
they did in Indian in the Cupboard, you could turn plastic dolls
into real people. I bet that key would go for a lot on E-bay.
I seriously doubt that your girlfriend fits
the above description perfectly, but if she does…what the
hell is wrong with you? Do you not have a penis or something. You
probably shouldn’t be taking this advice if you don’t
have male genatalia. If your girlfriend does fit this description,
you really shouldn’t be dating her, because when it comes
to sexual activity, you aren’t exactly going to…work.
However, you have a whole different set of problems if lesbians
find you attractive…you probably look like a lesbian. Right
now I want you to go to the gym, run on the treadmill, work out
your biceps, eat a lot of red meat, go piss your name on the wall,
and hunt down innocent wild deer with a large gun. If all else fails,
invest in some plastic surgery…either get yourself shaped
more like a man…or get your genitals removed…just do
something for Goodness Sake. Brought to you by Kroger.
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Drama
Queen
I’m sure everybody is well aware of this person. She is the
type that never has a good day no matter what is going on. The sun
could be shining, birds singing, the fresh scent of love in the
air…but that day is the perfect day for a small band of Malaysian
Pigmys to crack the secret nuclear Russian launch codes and blow
up the United States’ defensive systems all the while plotting
a large secret strike using the immigrants from Canada and Mexico
to turn the United States into Canexico where all people currently
living in the area will be turned into butter churners and sold
on the black market for prostitution. All hope is lost. Everything
that happens is blown way out of proportions. “Ohh you just
wouldn’t believe it. It was awful. I cannot go on living.
I might as well slit my wrists right here in the hallway…I
just *voice trails off into an unrecognizable blur of tears and
sobbing.” “You dropped your notebook on the floor, what
the hell is wrong with you?” Yes, this situation can be seen
daily. You wonder what this person would do it something bad actually
did happen to them, like their parents being killed by a flock of
rabid ducks or her room burning down because a psychotic member
of the family cooked their cat fluffles in the oven and left it
on while they went on vacation. It seems that this person develops
a new ailment each and every day like cancer, glaucoma, a floating
rib, and other such medical problems; let’s just say, she
makes good use of the phrase “I think I am dying.” These
people are in desperate need for sympathy.
If your girlfriend
is anything like that, I’m going to buy some stock in Kleenex.
Not only will she use an insane amount to cry into and blow her
nose on, but you will be shoving Kleenex into your ears so that
you don’t have to listen to her constant bitching about the
temperature fluxuating outside half a degree so pressure builds
up causing her to break out in hives, syphilis, and pelvic cancer.
It would probably be a good idea if you stopped going “Awww
you poor baby” every time anything ever happened to her, ever.
Maybe you should just smack her in the face and be like “Look
bitch, you need to shut the hell up before I really give you something
to cry about.” If she continues, run her over in your 4x4
and she will stop crying about her headache…probably because
she will be too busy screaming in agony about her crushed pelvis
and her spleen which, though still connected to her body, is being
ravaged by insects from the immediate area. Perhaps that’s
not a good idea, but you’ve got to put your foot down somewhere…maybe
on her jugular, that’d shut her up…for a while anyway.
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