Or 
No Woman, No Cry 
A friend asked me the other 
day if my girlfriend told me that she loved me with all of her heart 
and that I was her best friend and she didn’t want to lose me - but 
that she could never have sex with me again – would I stay with her? 
I have to think long and hard 
about that one. 
Really, if it wasn’t for 
the sex, I doubt many of us (man or woman, heterosexual or homosexual) 
would put up with our significant others.  You’re in a relationship 
for a while, and you invariably get sick of the other person.  
Booze and sex are the only things that really make their whining palatable.  
And, after a while, it’s just the booze. 
Romantic relationships have 
a way of killing a good friendship.  If you were lucky enough to 
have a friendship with your significant other in the first place, that 
is. 
But, unfortunately, the longer 
you date a woman, the more like a woman (in the negative connotation 
of the word) she becomes.  Women apparently have a shelf 
life on coolness. 
This sweeping generalization 
brings me to an observation by one of my female friends that reads this 
article – she thinks I sound misogynistic. 
I have thought about this, 
and I have come to this conclusion – I am.  I hate women. 
When I say that, I want to 
be clear… there are many things about women I LOVE.  I love looking 
at them, I love touching them, I love being close with them, I love 
sex with them. 
And when I say women 
– I do not include all women.  I have friends that are women 
that are some of the coolest people/individuals on this earth.  
I’m talking about the stereotype of women. 
I hate people that bitch about 
every little thing as if constant badgering were the key to happiness.  
I hate people that suffer from massive mood swings.  I hate people 
that just can’t relax.  I hate people that memorize your every 
mistake like they’re writing your biography.  I hate people that 
discuss what so-and-so was wearing and didn’t so-and-so look fat.  
I hate people that wear too much make-up, or spend hours on their fucking 
hair, or have to change five times before leaving the house to get a 
cup of coffee.  I hate prissy self-involved hair highlights Baby 
Gap The View shallow stupid petty spoiled useless wastes of space that 
would not be tolerated by 90% of the rest of the human population if 
not for the fact that they can 1. supply occasional sexual gratification, 
2. procreate, and 3. apparently crush their spouses financially in divorce 
proceedings. 
All of the preceding paragraph 
describes a stereotype that is typically associated with women. 
And so many of the bitches 
live down to it. 
These freaks of nature drive 
me crazy. 
That is why I so appreciate 
the sporadic female that is actually a cool individual.  Why aren’t 
there more like you?  Because of gender coding, because women compete 
with each other in vicious harmful status-symbol ways, because the societal 
pressure on women to fit a certain horrific model? 
I have two daughters, and I 
pledged myself since their birth that I would not allow them to fall 
into the Barbie and Bratz hellhole that creates women out of 
innocent girls.  I put them in sports, teach them about healthy 
competition, wrestle, hike, explore – you know, things that all 
children, male or female, should do.  But society and my ex-wife 
– who is on the Grand Evil Council of Women – are contriving 
to steal their souls away from me.  My youngest is 4 and already 
feels that she needs to carry lip gloss with her everywhere. 
The older I get, the more my 
view on the perfect woman changes.  Looks have become so much less 
important.  Just enjoy the following – food, drink, life, sex, 
and football.  And don’t look like Mama Cass. 
Is that too much to ask? 
Women.  Can’t live with 
‘em.  Can’t stab ‘em in the head with a fork. 
***I almost turned off the 
Indy-New England game yesterday.  It was starting to remind me 
too much of the BCS Championship game between Florida and that other 
team. 
But then Indy did what I kept 
hoping would happen in the BCSCG – which is why I kept watching that 
despicable BCSCG until there was 10 minutes left in the 4th 
quarter. 
The Indy game really hinged 
on one series.  Indy was down 21-3.  Manning had thrown the 
INT for the TD.  The Indy O had the ball and were backed up, and 
Peyton got sacked twice in a row to start the drive.  The Indy 
fans were booing their team like they were 11 Tim Couches.  Manning 
was clearly upset and uncomfortable.  They looked dead, and they 
had to punt. 
NE got the ball in great field 
position, and they were poised to put the game away before halftime.  
People were starting to seriously consider the quick exit to the parking 
lot.  But Indy’s D stopped them. 
They not only stopped the Patriots 
– they drove NE back, so they had no choice but to punt. 
That miniscule sign of life 
was the turning point.  Indy’s O got the ball back, Peyton got 
his balls back, and they went down the field and got the FG, knowing 
full well that they got the ball first in the 2nd half and 
would have a good shot at 10 straight points to climb back out of their 
grave. 
Turned out to be a hell of 
a game.   
***I still have faith in Rex 
Grossman, despite his getting his head out of his ass just in time for 
Chicago to take control of the NFC Championship game.  I still 
believe that he will find a way to choke it in the Superbowl. 
I’d say “put the smart 
money on the Colts”.  But after betting my house on the Saints 
last week, I can no longer pretend that I know anything about “smart 
money”.  Or money.  Or life. 
***I will be rooting for the 
Bears, but part of me would like to see the Colts win.  I’m not 
necessarily a Peyton Manning fan, but I do think he deserves at least 
one Superbowl ring, and I am a Tony Dungy fan. 
And if the Bears can win a 
Superbowl with the aforementioned Mr. Grossman, we should all ditch 
any wishes for drafting Brady “Mediocrity Personified” Quinn 
or Jamarcus “Spergon Wynn had measurables too” Russel in 
the Top 5. 
Surround him with a good D 
and a good running game, and Mr. Frye or Mr. Anderson will do. 
***Reggie Bush pulled a fantastically 
dick-ish move with his point and dive 85 yard TD in the 3rd 
quarter.  It wasn’t like you were wrapping up the game, Reggie.  
Don’t act like a walking dildo. 
***It is my opinion that all 
the hype about the fact that these are the first two African-American 
coaches to reach the Superbowl somewhat diminishes the accomplishments 
of these two men. 
Making the Superbowl has been 
the elusive quest of Tony Dungy – the man 
– for years.  I don’t care if he’s purple, I’m happy for 
him – the person, the individual.  I could 
care less about the symbolic meaning of his color. 
The day that should be celebrated 
is the day that we as a society have reached a point where no one even 
notices if these two excellent coaches and people are black, white, 
magenta, or chartreuse. 
And the media entities are 
gonna have 2 whole weeks with which to lambaste us regarding this topic.  
WOO HOO!  
***In fact, the thought of 
2 weeks of Superbowl hype has me bleeding from the ears.  Why 2 
weeks???  To give it long enough to make us absolutely sick with 
human interest stories about Chicago’s punter’s sick grand-aunt?  
Or endless reports about Kato June’s hangnail tragedy? 
I hate the 2 week layoff.  
I’m so bored of the Superbowl by the time that the Superbowl finally 
rolls around that it takes a close 1st half of actual football 
before I can get back into the game. 
I think I hate the whole Superbowl 
“thing”.  The endless hype, the 7 hours of pre-game coverage, 
the perpetually lame halftime show, the neutral crowd of wealthy pseudo-fans 
that cheers everything from the coin flip to a TV timeout, the long, 
drawn out trophy ceremony afterwards, the over-hyped commercials… 
UGH.  The only thing that keeps me watching is that it has been 
a decent game over recent years, and, well, it IS football… 
And maybe throw in the occasional 
nipple. 
***The season has only been 
over for 3 weeks – and what a horrible season it was – and I already 
miss the Browns. 
I know, I know – it’s like 
missing prostate exams. 
I can’t help it.  Stupid 
Browns. 
***It’s amazing how angry 
certain people’s ex-wives might get if her child says to her “I 
walked into Daddy’s room last night, and Daddy’s girlfriend was 
eating his PP.” 
Of course, I lock my bedroom door at night, so this is just theoretical.
No talent useless whorebag
Choke On Your Ego