The REAL Ugly Truth

I have just completed the viewing of the romantic comedy The Ugly Truth. It was a two hour event filled with a flurry of stomach flutters, uncontrollable giggling, and thuddings of a rapidly beating heart whenever Gerard Butler would grace the screen in all his sexy glory as the chauvinistic yet charming Mike Chadway. Mmmmmmm. Yummy. So, so, yummy. And allow me to tell you why. Mike Chadway first off is being presented within the steamy, devilish vessel of Gerard Butler. So, there's like a bazillion points right there. Furthermore, he is charming, confident, and successful. Three major things women find attractive in a man. Of course he has his faults. Womanizer. Chauvinistic. Doesn't believe in love. But as the film progresses we find out that this anti-love, chauvinistic man whore has a dazzling, vulgar sense of humor (maybe not every girl's dream quality but a HUGE plus in my book), a sweet little nephew that lives next door that he serves as a devoted father figure for, and a love, yes love, for the neurotic, control freak Abby. How kick ass is that? He has a douche bag outer shell with a sweet and creamy nice guy filling. I mean, this guy actually gives up a high paying, prestigious TV job cause he wants to continue to live next door to his nephew so he can take care of him. Awwwwwww! And he gets his little heart broken when Abby disses him for the doctor next door. Double awwwwwww! And the only reason why he is an outer douche bag in the first place is because he's gotten his heart broken so many times. Triple awwwwwww! Is he not just adorable, precious, and just everything........MMMMMMMMMMMMM. *sighs dreamily*

Now here's where I deliver my version of the ugly truth. MIKE CHADWAYS DO NOT EXIST! There is no such thing as the charming, flirtatious, unattainable cause he's too busy chasing pussy nice guy. It's a complete bullshit dream that we women have been chasing for entirely too long. There is no sweet little nephew next door. There is no history of him getting his wittle heart bwoken by the big bad scawy women. And there sure as hell will never be the moment where he looks into your eyes and says, "I love you" and actually mean it. Nope. No way. No how. Sorry. We'd like to think that that mysterious, unattainable flirt has a sweet side, a sensitive side, a side that goes to children's hospitals on the weekends and makes little balloon animals for kids. But nope. There is only the tail chasing, arrogant prick that he does a very apt job at portraying. And don't get mad at him, ladies when he breaks your heart. He let you know what you were getting yourself into. It was you that convinced yourself that this guy wasn't as deep as a puddle. It was you that convinced yourself that you'd be different.

Now don't beat yourselves up too long for being so foolish as to chase the fake Mike Chadways. We all do it. It's just a right of passage all us ladies must make. Here is a personal fav of mine:

Boyfriend: I don't fall in love.
Me (thinking): Oh, you'll fall in love with me.
Months later during our break up.....
Boyfriend: I don't love you now and I never loved you.

Conclusion: A prick but I can't say he didn't warn me.

So, ladies, remember; if it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck then it's probably a duck.

Girls Lie Too

I am an avid fan of politically incorrect jokes. Hell, my favorite comedy of all time is Blazing Saddles. And my love of naughty jokes only serves to intensify my love for my guy friends cause God knows they are full of them. Just a few that come to mind:

What’s black on top and white on bottom?
Rape.

How do you make an orphan’s hands bleed?
Tell her to keep clapping til Mommy and Daddy comes home.

(Comment on women)
Never trust something that bleeds for 5 days and doesn’t die.

That last one is one of my favorites and also the focus of this article. Seriously, I think men make a good point with this joke. I mean, really. Periods are creepy. They really are and I don’t know if that is the reason women shouldn’t be trusted but…(sorry, ladies, but I’m going to betray us right now) we really shouldn’t be. Now I know what you ladies are thinking. “Women lie more than men? What? 50% of what comes out of a man is lies!” That may be true but I’m not talking about how often either sex lies. If I were well, then yes men would win in a landslide. What I’m talking about is the gravity of the lies. For example a woman’s lies are usually something like this:

It’s your baby.

Or…

No, Officer. My husband was already dead when I got here.

I’ve always held the belief that women are craftier than men. This is evident in Genesis when God punishes man and woman. God looks at Adam and says, “Get off your butt and go get a job.” Perfect curse for a man since we know how lazy they are. And to Eve God said, “Well, you just had to eat that apple didn’t you, Eve? You just had to go and make yourself a Smarty Little Arty.”

“I’m sorry, God, but knowledge should be an eternal quest,” defends Eve.

“But did you have to make Adam eat it too?” God exclaims.

“Damn straight! I’m not spending my life with a dumbass. It was hard enough before the fruit but afterwards there was no way I could deal with that dumb shit.”

“Is that right? You think you’re so much better than Adam, do you?” God asks.

“Well,…yeah. I mean the way I see it you looked at Adam and went, “I know I can do better than that” and you made me,” Eve gloats.

“Is that how it is, eh? Well, in that case, Eve, your punishment shall be to serve man forever. You hear me? FOREVER!” God then turns to storm off to Heaven but before he leaves turns to Eve and adds, “And it’s going to hurt like the dickens when you have babies!” (Yes. God said dickens because God doesn’t cuss. He’s bigger than that, thank you very much.)

Now seriously. Would God make servitude a curse for someone who is weak minded? I don’t think so.Therefore, in conclusion, women are craftier than men. If we were going to survive with these weak ass little bodies we had to be smart.

Now we try to avoid lies. We really, really do but sometimes…well…sometimes we just get ourselves into some real pickles like getting knocked up with your best-friend’s baby or killing you and…well, we gotta do what we gotta do. I mean, you really don’t want to know the truth about me and your best buddy, do you? What’s that saying… “ignorance is bliss?” And the thing about me murdering you…well, if they find out I did it then they’re going to find out why I did it and you don’t want to leave the world with people knowing that you were the kind of man that cheats on his wife with his secretary now, do you? See? Our lies are so self-sacrificing really. Believe me. Lying is so difficult for us to live with. All the sleepless nights we endure because of our lies. All the uneaten dinners due to nerves of being found out. All the scrubbing the blood out of the carpet…what? Who said that? Someone that sounds like me keeps following me around and confessing to my late husband’s murder. Who is that?...Oh well. Moving on. We really would love to come clean about all our misdeeds but then how would that make you look? People would call you a cuckold or a cheating bastard and we can’t have that now, can we, Shnookums?