Every Sunday in the fall, I pull out some dip that uses cream cheese in the recipe and I sit around watching football. I don’t just watch the Colts games, though that is the team I cheer for. Once noon hits, some form of athletic competition or commentary is on in our home until we go to bed. No, I don’t sit on the couch the whole time, but I do keep an eye on every score. And while I’m watching football, I drink beer. Not even light beer, I drink real beer. Maybe Sierra Nevada’s Kellerweis or Mich Amber Bock.
Obviously, if I enjoy sports and alcohol, I must not be one of those uptight crazy bitches. I mean, I don’t act like a girl at all. I’m really just one of the guys.
Actually no, I’m not one of the guys. Because liking sports and beer doesn’t make a person male. Getting along with men doesn’t make a person male. You want to know what makes a person one of the guys? Having a penis. That’s what does it.
I have a little bit of a problem with girls who are constantly referring to themselves as “one of the guys.” These are the types of women who talk loudly and frequently about never really getting along with girls. Probably because all those other bitches are jealous. So instead of dealing with females and all their drama, these women-in-parts-only choose to hang out with their guys.
Well you know what ladies, you sound like assholes. I’m glad you don’t want to hang out with your own sex, because it means that I get to spend less time talking to someone who makes who sweeping generalizations about their entire sex. I’m glad that I don’t have to listen to someone who tries to put down every other woman in the room to make herself seem like the cool one who’s above it all.
Don’t get me wrong, I have no problem with having male friends. And I don’t think that women all need to sit in circles crocheting and drinking tea. Though if would get together for tea more often, that would be nice. Jen can make scones.