Nah. Still happens. 
Mind if I jump on the boat, too?
Just because you don’t wear much makeup or take a lot of time in the morning to get ready does not magically make you low maintenance or ultra-cool. Nor does it make women who take their time and put on makeup somehow inferior. It just means that woman X feels she needs less time than woman Y. So please stop complaining about how shitty the other looks and how vain/plain the other is. It’s really not worth the time it takes and it makes you look like a catty bitch. Similarly, if a woman wants to buy nice clothes, shoes and handbags, who gives a shit? Her money, her stuff.
And speaking of which… I hate it when women try to “out-granola” and out-mother each other. “My baby only eats organic foods and breastfed until he was four!” “Oh, yeah, well we used cloth diapers until he was in underwear!” “Yeah, well our baby was using the toilet by the time he was one.” Jesus, must you compare your children? When did the size of your baby’s shit and where he made it become a badge of honor? You don’t hear men comparing how great they are as fathers, do you? And how does having a difficult baby make you a better person exactly? Last I checked, you couldn’t give 'em back, so if you get a great baby, you’re lucky. If you get a screamer, you have to deal with it until they’re no longer a screamer. I don’t somehow think more of you if your baby has colic.
Well, of course not. Fathers are too busy comparing dick-size. Gotta have priorities straight. 
And ogling the secretaries and driving in the left-hand lane.
EVERY straight male? Methinks you are the victim of confirmation bias.
Ladies, shut the fuck up about your period. You’ve been getting it every month since you were twelve and the novelty really should have worn off by now. If you’re really soaking through a pad every hour (which I find hard to believe and even harder to care about) see a goddamn doctor. Just don’t come to me with that puss on and tell me in a half whisper what a terrible period you’re having.
Also, “Aunt Flo” was funny the first time I heard it about thirty years ago; not so much now.
I’m glad to see I’m probably not the only one who hates that tampon commercial with the lady dressed in red offering women their “monthly gift.”
Well, *she’s *kind of funny in that the actress that plays her has a freakishly big head:p Otherwise all those commercials suck. Have a happy period indeed . . .
Try this one:
“Yup.”
Guys, please stop expecting me to high-five you. I hate the high-five. It looked douchey in the 90’s and it looks extra douchey today. You look douchey when you do it, and I don’t want to look douchey. Same with the high-five of the 2000’s, the fist-bump.
And the fact that, even if you do everything exactly right, it is impossible for a man to urinate into a toilet bowl from a standing position without splattering the rim. You can get every drop inside the target, but the water/urine will splash upward and outward. That happens whether you aim at the water, or at the dry surface just above the water. Nothing you can do about that, so, at least, just make sure the seat is up when you use the toilet bowl for a stand-up urinal. Especially if it’s a public toilet. :mad:
Okay ladies, can we have one dinner out where we just eat our food and enjoy it? None of the apparently mandatory “oh I shouldn’t, there are so many calories, so much fat, maybe just this once, but I’ve gained weight lately, I’ll get on the treadmill tomorrow…”
Please. You’re going to eat the dinner you ordered. You know it and I know it. I’m not judging you. I’m eating out too. Even if I were judging you, your rationalizations wouldn’t stop that. So just eat already. Or order a salad. Just stop talking about it!
I like other women in general and I get along with them swimmingly. But I’ve had some persistent peeves against the majority for most of my 25 years:
I hate it when you are unable to unwilling to leave a sub-par or abusive relationship (the dysfunction of which you often seem to savor somehow, and usually help to create) and yet it’s the main topic of our conversations and you expect endless pity or understanding why you want to stay, rather than my clear-headed (correct!) advice.
I refuse to participate in your self-hate and I have none of my own to offer. My body, my face, and my life are good enough for me, thanks, and the things I don’t like I am trying to improve. Obsessing on flaws without working on them does no good, neither does hateful language.
And have I mentioned that it’s the height of poor logic to bother to obsess on ‘flaws’ that can’t be changed without maiming yourself, or that a majority of women have, and that no one would notice or remark on unless they were trying to hurt you?
Women that I believe are prettier/sexier than me - and there are plenty - don’t make me feel bad about myself. I’m sorry they make you so insecure you have to lash out against them, but I’m not participating in bashing them, and I judge you harshly for doing so.
I resent it when you use sex or your looks to deliberately manipulate men (using your looks to get sex doesn’t count of course). I think it’s morally icky, always will.
I usually don’t comprehend roundabout hints about why you are upset/how you would like me to observe your birthday, etc, and I refuse to give in to passive-aggressiveness and other subtle bullying. Don’t push me with this, I can be mean.
Women like you are particularly annoying. And there are SO MANY of you.
Then don’t look. I don’t give a rats ass about what you want to see.
Christ, I said “many”, not all or the majority.
Attention fellow fellows: don’t listen to him. I like seeing a lot of guys shirtless who couldn’t be described as “Greek Adonises.”
Not to mention that some of us are perfectly happy looking at Adonises of other nationalities. Promise.
To all, there is no need to talk endlessly about how much you hate a certain sport. Not everyone likes every sport, who the fuck cares, if you don’t like it don’t watch it, and if you don’t like it stop talking about it.
Small talk and chitchat … can you please forget about fucking sports, for Og’s sake? Jiminy Freaking Cricket, there’s a whole freaking world out there. There’s literature, movies, music, food, television, comedy, swimsuit models, … My knowledge of sports is limited to the 1981-1986 seasons of the Cincinnati Reds. I prefer small talk about the freaking weather to sports.
(Thank god for the recession; people don’t talk to strangers about their mortgages and the stock market anymore.)
This doesn’t happen as much, but don’t talk to me about your kids either. If I barely know you, I really don’t give a shit about them.
And fuck your home improvements too.
The guy I saw outside shirtless this morning was as far from an Adonis as you can get, I promise you. White as a sheet, flabby, man-boobs. On top of all that, bad posture, and a surly expression. SEXY!
I just came in to add my complaints - stop bashing your husbands, women! I won’t bash mine, not to you. He’s a great guy with some flaws. So what? You won’t hear about them from me.
I think physical beauty in opposite-sex persons is a lot more important to men than it is to women . . . but I have no idea why that should be.