I’m Not Good People
I wish I was a better, more rounded person. I find it disturbing that even at the age of forty two, my biggest goals in life are to drink beer and see naked women. Shouldn’t I have grown out of this by now? Shouldn’t I have lofty goals, including success, marriage and possibly owning more than one tie? I wonder if I hadn’t had these two obsessions, would I have become a different person? A better person? Doubtful and I’ll tell you why.
First of all, I always thought that I started out being a good person and events in my life changed me into the horrible person I am, today. The classic debate of Nature vs. Nurture. Now, that is usually reserved for serial killers. I can assure you that I am not a serial killer.(I neither have the time nor the energy to have a job, murder people and still be able to come home and sit for at least seven hours) Was it my environment that caused me to be the person I am or have I always been this person? I was reminded by an old friend, of a story that answers this question. A girl left a gift for me, on my desk, when I was in second grade. The next day, she asked about the gift. My response… “My dog loved it.” Early sign of douchebaggery right there. The first cause: Nature.
Now, I can honestly say that my obsession with the two B’s didn’t really start until I was about twelve. That’s when I saw my first film with nudity. It was Friday the 13th: Part 3, I believe. They depicted beer alcohol fueled teenagers who, even with the guys being wildly unattractive, we’re getting together for a weekend of drunken debauchery, therefore I equated beer with boobs. Obviously, I could really identify with being wildly unattractive(I am currently filing a lawsuit against Peter Jackson and New Line Cinema for using my school picture, in creating the image of Gollum, in the film version of Lord of the Rings). I know what you’re thinking: the teenagers in that movie were all slaughtered. It seems like an even trade off, to me. Second cause: Movies made me think I could be a drunken jerk and still get me some.
Finally, the adult years were upon me and I thought I had everything figured out. I was older, had a job, a car and had finally grown into my mouth. I had this notion that I was attractive to the opposite sex. I was mistaken. I tried two different approaches. First the nice guy approach. All that ever got me was being stuck in the dreaded “Friend Zone”. Those perks include listening to girls complain about their boyfriends, the dreaded shopping trips, the godawful heart to heart talks(I had to borrow a heart) and the ever emasculating bent at the waist hug, so our genitals don’t accidentally touch. Then I tried being the funny guy. I thought I really had something there. Women always say that a sense of humor is the most important quality in a man. Well, that may be true, if it is accompanied by good looks, money and height. Let’s face it, being funny is just how ugly guys try to get laid. It does not work. When I would make a woman laugh, I’d see a thought bubble appear above her head and in it: “He’s so funny. I’m glad he can make me laugh, until a cute guy comes along.” Final cause: Girls don’t like funny, nice guys if they look like me.
In conclusion, I’m a bad person and I have convinced myself that it is everyone’s fault, but mine. Let’s face it. Being a bad person is so much easier than being a good one. People expect so much less from you and that equates to more time for boobs and beer. It all comes back around to my continued obsession. A bottle of beer and a woman both get the same treatment in my house. If I can’t get their tops off, then I toss them out.
About: Ted Snyder
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