El señor Filio opina que mi blog es aburrido… Supongo que no lo puedo juzgar yo mismo Así que si alguien tiene una opinión con respecto a esto es super bienvenida.
Anyway para mejorar la situación me envió el siguiente texto que comparto con ustedes.
Caяlo… dice (12:10 p.m.):
A woman’s greed for presents is the natural extension of a sickness that has befouled the female race since the beginning of time. That sickness is called gimmie-ism: an insatiable hunger for free shit no matter what the context. If a woman sees it, she wants it and she doesn’t care how she gets it.
Caяlo… dice (12:11 p.m.):
That’s why men wear neckties. They’re a subtle, visual reminder of The Penis.
Women are like zombies with romantic knick-knacks and other sentimental trash. Zombie pigs. No matter what the reason for it is, if it reeks of love and it’s in front of her, a woman will consume it with a maximum of grunting and moaning.
Enter Valentine’s Dayfor example; a day that appeals to anyone who appreciates a gift given out of obligation and resent.
No woman would be as happy with the same gifts given on February 15th. Whatever percentage of happiness is lost is the exact percentage of “cunt” that woman is.
Caяlo… dice (12:12 p.m.):
Fuck the “spirit of giving”. A woman would appreciate a gift pried out of your cold, dead hands. A woman would appreciate a gift pried out of the cold, dead hands of the child who mined it and mounted it on a ring. A woman would feel special at a wedding even if she was pregnant.
Every time you see a woman at a bar without a drink, know that she’s got a rampant case of gimmie-ism. She’ll die of thirst if someone doesn’t pay the requisite 10.50 plus tip for a chance to brush against one of her tits.
Caяlo… dice (12:17 p.m.):
Why women hate sex.
Out of all the problems that have ever or will ever exist on the Earth, there is only one that men haven’t and will never be able to solve — not because they can’t, because that’s ridiculous, but because the problem is unsolvable by design. Women hate sex.
That’s it, there you have it. The end-all, be-all of cluster fucks. But why?
Do women hate sex — and they do — because of some kind of woman-guilt from an outdated puritan societal dogma? Or perhaps a stigma of guilt or a fear of abandonment? No. None of these things are it. Women hate sex simply because they are lousy at it.
This can be proved in a quick stroll down the checkout aisle at your local market of groceries — a place thick to the rafters with women. Take a look at some of their magazines and you will no doubt see a running theme: ‘Ten Ways to not suck in bed’, ‘Six Things to do to Your Man that aren’t Lay There Like a Futon’, and ‘Honestly who gives half a fuck about socks being on or off? Jesus Christ that
Caяlo… dice (12:18 p.m.):
Also, much in the same way that a wall probably doesn’t like or doesn’t care about playing tennis with you, it’s definitely not your fault. Don’t let your sympathetic male compassion get the better of you. You could be dancing around like a maniac and pulling stunts out of your figurative ass like Johnny Magic the Wicked Awesome — maybe some whirl-arounds and in your face spikes from across
rom across the court — it’s really up to you as the man — but no matter what, the wall will remain unfazed. It just sits there doing nothing like a lump on a log probably thinking that it wants a new expensive coat of paint.
This same theory can be applied to many other things as well. For example: that women hate problems.
n Chinese, the symbol for crisis is the same as opportunity. I haven’t looked that up, but I heard it from a man so it’s probably true because us men have something called integrity. This means that in a time of crisis, we men are at our show stopping best. Take a flat tire on a moonless night for instance. While a man is out changing nuts and bolts and doing all manner of screwing on the side
all manner of screwing on the side of the road, will a woman so much as think to grab a flashlight and help? No.
That’s because women hate holding flashlights, because they are complete rubbish at it. Force a woman to hold a flashlight when it matters and you’re likely to catch her aiming it into the sky for absolutely no goddamn reason. You’re better off just duct taping it to a mailbox and catapulting it into space