Psh, Women.

So I accidentally stumbled upon an episode of the Real World the other day, I think it might've been Brooklyn or something like that. I don't normally watch the Real World because I'm not terribly sure of the point, but I became absorbed into the story of a trans gender man-turned-woman on the show (forget her name, sorry). Anyway, she seemed absolutely obsessed with expressing her new found "femininity," which is all just fine in theory I guess. Only for some reason the only way she could think of actually doing this was to pole-dance, go-go dance, and wear extremely revealing clothing. I'm sure part of this desire comes from the excitement to enjoy/show off her new body, as in the boobies and such--that part I understand. But seriously? The phrase, "So I was talking to a girl I pole-dance with..." came out of her mouth. As if she were saying, "A girl I go to the gym with..." -_- For some stupid reason, I find all this insulting. Here's a person who has undergone a physical identity transformation into the so-called "fairer sex," and her first instinct is to... act like a stripper. Oh my God.

It was sort of like St. Patty's Day, walking down Lafayette (my street) and weaving my way through really drunk, dressed-to-slut chicks who were all stumbling around in the middle of the street, completely intoxicated by 5 pm. And then seeing other dressed-to-slut chicks grinding on douchebag-looking frat boys who probably don't even know how to treat a real woman. And all the really hot ones probably saw me and thought what most girls think when they see another girl--"I'm so much hotter than she is. I feel so lucky to be hotter than she is. I'm going to have a better life than her because I'm so much hotter than she is." Please. You can't even remember your original hair color, you don't know that guy's name, there's a red cup in your hand with someone else's beer in it, and I can smell your chlamydia from here. You give my gender a bad name.

Don't get me wrong, I like to get a little silly sometimes, and I delight when I find a shirt that can actually show off my boobies. But like all things, exposing your wild side is probably best done in moderation. Or it's quite possible I'm just a prude.

To further disrespect and deface my gender, we have the women who seem attracted to assholes like moths to a flame. Although I think this phenomenon is fairly well-known, go visit Hot Chicks with Douche Bags to see the evidence in all its shameful glory. I guess this gives the "Nice Guys Finish Last" theory a little bit more credibility. Unless the Nice Guys bump into gals like me, who are not only suppermassively hot, but smart enough to know a non-douche when they see one. :P

In case you haven't figured it out yet, there is no point to any of this. I have a midterm tomorrow--obviously I have to do something besides study. I'm irresponsible like that.