Nice Guys are WHINY PUSSIES

Greetings, fellow cosmic travelers. So, I just had a long discussion with my friend Joe. We've been talking about nice guys (like us,) women (that's the nicer shaped half of you readers,) and assholes (the kids that picked on me in grade school, people who kick puppies, guys who the women mostly date, anyone with the last name "Bush," etc.) As a result of this discussion, I have come to two inescapable conclusions:

1) I should have played Grand Theft Auto: Vice City instead, as I had originally planned, and...

2) We "nice guys" are WHINY PUSSIES who deserve a good, swift kick in the ass.

Not really what you were expecting, is it? Now, I'd say I was as surprised as you at the results of my introspection, but that would be a, say it with me now, FILTHY LIE.

For years, I've bitched, whined, and griped about how all the girls I know would rather go out with puppy-kickers that told them they were fat, as opposed to nice, gentle, handsome men who cared about their feelings (which is to say, of course, me.) The sad fact is that I was wrong, wrong, WRONG. Girls do not prefer assholes. They go out with guys that ask them out.

Gasp!

Concept!

Sweet Zombie Christ, who knew?

Guys (that's you other, not-so pleasantly shaped half of my readers,) this is the sad fact: she is not going to get struck in the head by lightning, undergo a radical personality change, leave the jerk she's with, magically decide that she loves only you, and proceed to shower you with home-cooked meals and passionate, frighteningly fantastic sex until the day you die while miraculously keeping her figure the whole time.

What she will do is avail herself of your friendship, appreciate your respect and concern for her needs and wishes, want to spend time with you doing fun things, and so forth. Basically, she wants to do the same things with you as she does with all her OTHER gay male friends, only she wants to have sex with you less. Much less.

The assholes get all the dates, not because they're more confident (which they're not,) or they have more to offer (which they don't,) or even because you're less handsome (which, in all fairness, you are.) They get more dates because THEY ASK THE GIRLS OUT. It's that simple.

I'm really quite annoyed, you know. Coming to this epiphany has now cost me one of my more cherished illusions, which SUCKS. Being accountable for your own problems is no fun, especially when there are convenient scapegoats on which to pin the blame. However, life's not fair, and anyone who tells you differently has watched "The Princess Bride" too many times.

Still, for all its unfairness, life is good. For instance, I have a HUGE bowl of fried rice and General Tsao's chicken, a pair of cool chopsticks, a bottle of Southern Comfort's "Southern Twist" Stonefruit Liqueur, and the entire "Red Dragon/Silence of the Lambs/Hannibal" trilogy on newly-acquired DVD. I'm not sure what, but I'll figure SOMETHING out.

((Final note: The author IN NO WAY endorses the kicking of puppies.))