Last time I attended a presentation by a speaker, I attended a “First Friday Fractals” exhibit by one Jonathan Wolfe, a man apparently obsessed with repeating patterns in geometry. On this occasion, I attended a presentation by a man obsessed with putting iron sticks into a fire, and then hitting them repeatedly with large sticks. This obsession, called “blacksmithing”, is an important concept in the history of the human race, as it has given us nails, which us humans use to put pieces of wood together. These pieces of wood form houses, and these houses form timber with which large fires can be started, often destroying all of the furniture inside, which incidentally is also made of wood and nails.
I mention this not because I am obsessed with fires, but rather, because I want to discuss girls again.
I know, I know, I hear the howling peals of laughter through my little online audience. I know that in the past, whenever I discussed girls, it invariably involved law enforcement officials beating me with sticks. I also realize, however, that my torment is an outlet of incredible enjoyment for you, my Internet audience. So I have decided once again to discuss my relationships with the womenfolk, no matter how strained they are or how embarrassed I am at my geekiness. I aim to please.
Chapter I of my Odyssey with the Womenfolk:
I am currently friends with a girl named Shari, of whom I know very little, excepting of the details with which she has divulged to me. These details are indeed quite interesting. For example:
- She gets irritated whenever I start talking nonstop about pickup trucks and how much it pisses me off that they quit making the Subaru Baja.
- By the time a person has drank three-fourths of a bottle of Mountain Dew, according to Shari, “85% of the liquid is backwash.”
- She has a boyfriend.
These facts, when taken together, leave only one possible outcome, namely: that I need to spend more time talking to Shari about her interests. Unfortunately, this is not possible, because while I live in a pink double-wide mobile home on the outskirts of Albuquerque, New Mexico, Shari has a dorm in central Albuquerque, New Mexico, and I am afraid to drive my car any distance further than a mile, because it is a Ford. This means that we have had to communicate primarily in class, and because we are both afraid of getting any lower than a B-plus in any class our discussions are primarily related to the “classroom material”, which in this case amounts to Cadillacs buried in the ground by some Rich White Person.
My chances of any meaningful relationship with Shari are strained, primarily because I have now written about her ON THE INTERNET, but also based upon my almost universal track record with women, which usually involves my untimely demise and unnecessary hatred and random death. Thus, I give this relationship a four out of five stars.
Chapter II of my odyssey with the womenfolk:
I have been conversing with a girl I know in one of my classes named Quian. I think that’s how her name is spelled. She is very nice and does not seem to hate me. I have learned the following:
- She is an actual artist.
- She is from China.
- She also has a boyfriend.
These facts, when taken as a whole, suggest one possible outcome, namely, that I need to learn to speak Chinese. This would allow me a realm of possibilities, not just in this particular situation, but also when China takes over the United States for the usage of our women. My abilities would also come in handy with discussing possible takeovers of American corporations by the Chinese, particularly Chrysler, which just needs to die.
My chances of any meaningful relationship with
Shari Quian are strained, primarily because I have now written about her ON THE INTERNET, but also based upon my almost universal track record with women, which usually involves my untimely demise and unnecessary hatred and random death. Thus, I give this relationship a four out of five stars.
Chapter III of my odyssey with the womenfolk:
I have also attempted to be friends with another girl I know, Brittany, who I have known since high school. I have also had little time to talk to her. I have learned the following:
- Apparently, Kaycee’s little sister is very different from Kaycee, the Girl of Pure and Ultimate Beauty.
- She (Brittany) works at a deli.
- She, too, has a boyfriend.
These facts, when taken as a whole, suggest that I should probably stop talking about Kaycee. Just guessing from the amounts of hatemail I am going to get regarding this post I can honestly say that I will never forgive myself for having written this, ever, and I feel considerably saddened by the fact that I had to be told specifically that Kaycee, the Girl of Ultimate Beauty’s little sister is far different from Kaycee herself. These facts make me cry inside. I do not like Kaycee’s sister.
After all, Kaycee’s sister is too young for me.
My chances of any meaningful relationship with
Kaycee Brittany are strained, primarily because I have now written about her ON THE INTERNET, but also based upon my almost universal track record with women, which usually involves my untimely demise and unnecessary hatred and random death. Thus, I give this relationship a three out of five stars, assuming that her boyfriend does not kill me.
I hope that I have enlightened you on my current situation, and I also hope that you are laughing, assuming of course that you have not whipped out your shotguns and are planning my untimely demise as I sleep peacefully. At the very least, please do not be too mean. My current relationships are bad enough.
Tell me what you think! email me: Luigirepublic@aol.com