I love my evil powers, but one stipulation that’s always bugged me is that God and I aren’t allowed to mess with anybody’s free will. Yeah, I can ensure that there’s a hearty dosage of crack, coke and Carly Rae Jepsen on every street corner, but when a little kid decides he’s gonna live above the influence of today’s most addictive substances, there’s not really anything I can do about it.
The area where this rule has really hurt me is picking up girls. I’ll admit it, The Devil has never been all that good at talking to ladies. I think it’s cause up until the 50 fifty years, I’d never really had to. I never developed any kind of game because for millennia I’d just inhabit the body of the man who owned the most cars/land/shiny metal crap in his community and all the fathers would throw their daughters at me. Used to be you could issue an eight-pig offer to her father and any chick would be yours (maybe throw in a goat if she was a 10).
But then things started changing. Ever since the 19th Amendment passed, women have needed men less and less. Nowadays women are getting their own college degrees, making their own money and picking their own noses. (God I miss the days of chivalry.) Unfortunately for me, women don’t need my paycheck or boogerfingers any more. They’ve started preferring guys with bulls*** like good looks and a sense of humor. And if you read The Chronicle’s online comments, you know I’ve never had much of the latter. But I’ve had to try to be funny if I ever want to see boobs again.
Sure, I’ve always been able to just possess a woman’s body and jiggle my boobs in the mirror. I’ve done it millions of times. Hell, I nabbed the most gorgeous body I’ve ever seen back in 27 B.C. and just posted up in front of a mirror jiggling those suckers for ages. The world saw two centuries without war. I saw hypnotic bags of joy bouncing off my fingertips for 200 years straight. Win-win. Thanks, women. But manhandling the female body just isn’t as satisfying when I’m not doing it as a man. I had to figure out what today’s women desire, so I did some research. After reading a thousand Develle Dish posts and watching every Helen Hunt movie, I finally found what women want.…
The prototypical woman (whom I have constructed from a collection of parts of other women like Frankenstein) wants absolutely everything, especially things that contradict her other wants, and major bonus points if getting the thing is impossible. She wants Edward, but she wants Jacob. She wants to play with puppies (“Aww, can I pick him up?!”), but she doesn’t want her dog to be old and gross (“Eww, put him down!”).
Today’s woman is sexually empowered, but she doesn’t just want to have crazy sex, she wants to have crazy sex politics, too. She wants men to stay faithful to their wives, but she only wants to let them to have one wife. She wants her insurance to cover the pill, but she wants radio personalities to treat her like a human being. She wants health care to stop covering Viagra, but she wants to bang the 80-year-old dude that used to host “The Price is Right.” Oh wait, never mind, my roomie’s telling me that last one’s not a thing. OK women, I guess you can stop paying taxes for Bob Barker’s boner pills.
Now the typical Duke girl, armed with all the expectations that accompany 20 years of success, wants s*** even more impossible than Frankensteena. She wants to wear tights that stick to her butt like wallpaper, but she wants to accost men for staring. She wants to complain about the lack of dating on campus, but she wants to date a guy who only exists in Taylor Swift songs. She wants to revel in the hospitality that comes from living in the conservative South, but she wants gays to be able to get married. She wants to wear a lax pinnie that says “Just Tri It” but she also wants respect. See what I mean? Oh, and she wants shoes. Loads and loads of shoes. Way more shoes than you think is necessary for the number of unique situations you can imagine her feet encountering.
So where do we go from here? Men, we need to bring back the glory days before women had all these rights and expectations, back to the time when a woman’s right to choose meant deciding whether to make us pork chops or meatloaf. We need to stop letting Matthew McConaughey star in rom coms and start casting someone more realistic, like Steven Seagal. If you have to use an online dating site, make sure your profile at least has a dowry listed. Finally, and I think this is obvious: We need to elect Rick Santorum.
The Devil thinks Nietzsche was right; women were God’s second mistake.... God had to make little girls first.