Smoothie of the sexes and why I must never leave the house

You wake up and it's a beautiful day. The sun is burning your eyes, the birds just won't shut up and you must leave your comfortable bed because you refuse to be that loser who spends the day in front of his computer doing nothing but talk shit online, plus, you have to go to the supermarket at some point for that daily sense of accomplishment.

So you drag your carcass out the door and you start walking slowly since walking fast and updating your Foursquare at the same time is not only dangerous but also the GPS doesn't update that fast. In between check-ins you have time to glance around and you start noticing something incredible. Girls going about their business, passing by other girls, talking on the phone, texting, touching their boobies, eating non-fat yoghurt, drinking frappuccinos, doing their nails, having naked pillow-fights and generally, being girly (What? I said I "glanced". I saw girls, the rest I assumed). And guys. Guys cussing, spitting and adjusting their crotch, combing their chest hair and other manly things while fully clothed (there, balance). But the incredible thing isn't that I came in contact with other humans, no. The incredible thing is how much alike everyone looked.

Today, on my way to the store

I'd never really paid much attention, what with being an asexual amoeba and all but boy, do they all look the same or what! Females of all ages with badly dyed hair, a fringe covering half their faces and pointy extensions in a shade that almost matches their colour, fake eyelashes making them look like they're in a constant state of shock, two buckets of foundation and light pink lipstick for the obligatory "doll-like" lips. 

Guys mostly sporting the Bieber-fringe on their (again) badly dyed hair, oversized glasses, some sort of hat or hair accessory, messenger bag and skinny jeans with mismatched shoes or some "revolutionary" touch like that. Oh, and checkered shirts. Dear lord the checkered shirts! And, I know, I have one in my wardrobe but I'm forgiven because I'm me and I'm also a part-time lumberjack.

Me. True Story

Why? Where in the process of being unique did you take a left in Albuquerque and you ended up looking like everyone else? Is it too late to go back? Guys, I think you are mostly to blame here. You see, in my opinion, women respond. And they responded to this:

Look at this tough motherfucker

with this:

Classy, eh?

So it is only understandable that to this:

You

They have to respond with this:

Your girlfriend

And can you blame them? Almost all of you look 12 and a bit, how to put this politely without hurting your feelings... A bit half and half. Half gay, half extremely gay. And that's only good if you're actually gay. So women had to adjust and they've ended up looking like 10 year old boys with long hair (think Taylor Lautner in Twilight but with a wee-bit more make-up) and the worst part is that you seem to be finding this attractive which, of course, results to this:  

Don't think he won't hate you the moment he goes to school

Bottom line: Men stop spoiling it for the few lumberjacks in need of variety and go back to being the cussing, spitting, crotch-adjusting, chest-hair-combing men your forefathers were. Now, I'm not saying be cave-men all of a sudden but it would help if you stopped injecting your dicks with estrogens. Again, I saw guys that look a lot like girls. The rest I'm assuming.

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