Man Among Boys

I’ve been thinking about my life lately, particularly my relationships with women.  After much deliberation, I’ve come to one realization:  I need a dumb b*tch in my life.

I used to think that I wanted a woman of education, intelligence and beauty that I could build a life with.  I’m rethinking that plan.  Now, I just want a dumb b*tch with a cute face, big ass, and a nice set of knockers.  Yes, I’m shallow and my requirements are minimal.

Here are the factors in my rational.  Very logical.  Basically A + B = C.  Follow along:

• You need “yin and yang” in a relationship.  Opposites keep balance in the world.  Black and white.  Fair and foul.  Right and wrong.  You can’t have too much of one side or else the relationship tips over.

• Intelligent men are educated, experienced, and learned.  They have viewpoints and opinions.  Intelligent men want to share their intelligence through conversation.  I’m an educated man. I’m an experienced man.  I’m a learned man.  I’ve traveled the world and seen many things.

• Intelligent women are also educated, experienced, and learned, as they should be.  They have viewpoints and opinions (unfortunately). They want to express themselves and add to the conversation.

• Men and women can’t communicate.  The book “Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus” made millions.  There are people who actually make their living at helping men and women talk to each other.  There are blogs all over the place about relationships.  It’s a well-known fact that the sexes can’t talk to each other.

If it’s been proven that men and women already have trouble communicating, then what the f*ck do I want an intelligent woman for?   All we’re going to do is spend all of our time arguing because we both have contrasting viewpoints and can’t express them in a way the other will understand.  The result is two intelligent people trying to show how smart they are by proving the other wrong and attempting to “one up” each other all night.

If I have to get into a gun fight, I’d rather go up against a .22 caliber than an assault rifle.  Understand where I’m going with this?

Having an intelligent woman is just making my life harder and adds to my stress.  Now I have to sit here and debate over just about everything just because you want to have an opinion.

Therefore, there is only one logical conclusion…I need a dumb b*tch.

Dumb b*tches don’t know what they don’t know.  They can be easily swayed in conversation and agree with just about everything you say because, frankly, they don’t know sh*t.  Some might say that I afraid to have an intelligent woman because she has her own mind, but that’s not true.  Most intelligent women just don’t know how to shut the f*ck up long enough for someone to filter what they’re saying and offer an intelligent counter.

If I want an intelligent conversation, that’s what I have my boys for.  We can go to a bar and talk sports, politics, education, women, economy, and whatever else we want because men can express themselves to other men logically.  Men can talk to men about anything, and if we don’t agree, well, we just “agree to disagree” and move onto the next topic.

Men and women get into arguments over what movie to go see, and that stupid sh*t can go on for hours.

Is it morally wrong that I basically want an empty shell with a beautiful exterior?  Maybe, but if it will keep a happy home, so be it.  That moral void will be replaced with a stress free life.  I’ll carry the burden of intelligence while she plays the role of window dressing.

Some of you may be thinking, “How is she going to teach your kids?”  She won’t.  They’ll do the same thing your kids do – GO TO SCHOOL.  The difference is my kids will be well rested because they’re not kept up from mommy and daddy arguing all night.

Here’s what I want:

• I want a dumb b*tch that if she’s driving and her gas needle is getting close to empty, she speeds up because she wants to make it to a station before she runs out of gas.

• I want a dumb b*tch that she thinks because she says “hola”, that makes her bi-lingual.

• I want a dumb b*tch that thinks a good career move is going from the french fry bin to the register at McDonald’s.

• I want a dumb b*tch that names her child “La-a” and pronounces it LA-DASH-A  (the funny thing is, I actually know of such a case; true story).

If you’re a female, and you don’t understand anything I’ve said here…you qualify.  Leave your name and number in the comments.

And relax, ladies, it’s all in fun.  I’m just kiddin’…mostly .  Feel free to express your thoughts.