Reading people’s stories all over the site this past week has made me a combination of sad and sick to my stomach. I feel bad because I’m part of the problem: I’m extremely superficial.
How superficial, you ask? Try this. In college, I had a binary system for girls I would sleep with. They were either a 2 or a 0. A size 2, or a size 0. I wish I were kidding. But I’m not.
Men always talk about whether they like blondes, brunettes, girls with big boobs, big asses, blue eyes, green eyes, brown eyes, long hair, short hair, blah blah the list goes on. For me, the only thing that’s ever mattered is a girl’s weight, and that it be low.
If you’ve read this far and don’t hate me, there is probably something severely wrong with you. You won’t find me here trying to justify the fact that I only like skinny girls, because I can’t. The same way a guy can’t justify liking brunettes over blondes or blue eyes over green, I can’t come up with any concrete, logically sound reason for only being attracted to skinny girls. It just is what it is. And if you’ve ever been a blonde who’s had her heart broken by a guy who only likes brunettes, the correct response wasn’t to go out and pick up some hair dye. It was to tell that douchebag to go eat a dick. And if you think you’re of a body type that a guy like me wouldn’t find attractive, the correct response here, again, is to tell that douchebag (me) to go eat a dick. Say it. Out loud. In a thick Queens accent. “Ey, go eat a dick you fuckin’ fuck!” Feel better? Good.
And that should be the last of your anger over this issue. You’ve just got to let it go. I’m already going to get what’s coming to me. I’ll be divorced probably more than once because I cheated with someone younger and skinnier than my wife or who didn’t have stretch marks from being pregnant with our kids. Do you want to be the woman who has to fight with me over custody of our kids because you don’t want them being around my latest 2 or 0 of the week? No, you don’t. You really fucking don’t. But if you go to all these lengths–these crash diets, master cleanses, and all the other dumb shit that so-called nutrition gurus come up with–you’re setting yourself up for a life of being married to me. Or someone like me. And you sure as fuck don’t want that. Trust me.
But I’m not saying that wanting to be skinny is a bad thing, either. If you want to lose a few pounds, that’s fine. Just make sure you’re not doing it to please a dipshit like me. Do it because you’ll be able to wear clothes you want to wear. Do it because it’ll shave a few precious minutes off your half-marathon personal best. Or shit, do it because you feel like you’ll be happier with what you see in the mirror when you’re in reverse cowgirl. Do it for all of the above. But do it for you.
You heard me. Go back. Read it again. Don’t. Diet. For. Dudes.
And I know you still hate me, but I composed this limerick just for you. It is an educational limerick. They were going to put it in Aesop’s fables because of the important lesson that it teaches but then they were like “no”. Anyway, here goes:
A girl in my college, a smartie,
Her desire to be skinny was tawdry.
Taking dieting pills,
and some that booze she swilled,
she once pooped herself at a party.