Now I admit that a boyfriend who plays Xbox all the time, doesn't work, go to school or even try in life should probably be broken up with. Because first of all, Xbox sucks. And second of all, if a game is more important than your girlfriend, then maybe you should just duct tape that rumble pack to your crotch and be single for the rest of your sad, online life. But again, the pro to that con is that, hey, it's free. Guys by nature are not high maintenance. Some turn out to be, but that's a different (metrosexual) story. Girls have, ever since the invention of fashion, been strangely competitive when it comes to clothes and jewelry.
It used to be, a fair maiden in the medieval times would want to look pretty for her knight when he came home after months on a crusade. A pretty veil, maybe a little tiara, a simple necklace, and viola! You're hot, perfect, beautiful, and ready to get lanced-a-lot. But slowly over the decades and generation, fashion has been less and less about looking pretty for guys, and more and more about trying to be prettier than that other girl.
Girls, for instance, buy things at the store in hopes that they go to school or a party and another girl goes, "Oh. My. GOD. Where did you get that!? That's soooooo cute!" They want to be the first and only ones to have it. And shit, God forbid they find another girl wearing those same earrings or that same cute purse the next day. Because they want fucking credit for starting that trend. "Bitch stole that from me. I wore that last week!" That's what they say in their heads. Unless one of their friends is around, in which case they'll rant to them. I hate people who rant.
[pause for irony]
|He'll look at this picture over a hundred times,|
and he still won't be sure if she even has feet.
"Hiiiii... you know, I saw your toes over there from across the club... and... I pretty much want to give you my credit card so you can max it out on a shopping spree, let you have half of my possessions, never talk to my friends again 'cause you said so, give my entire life to you and basically become your bitch for the next fifty years."Doesn't happen, ladies. Us guys don't get turned on by your feet. They're cute, but we like them the same way we like a cool display in our car's sound system; It comes with it, but it's not why we're interested.
That's not to say we don't care, but if your hair looks and smells amazing (this is very underrated, by the way), your makeup's perfect, your eyes are shining, your lips are sultry, you're wearing a shirt that shows most of your boobs, your stomachs showing, and your pants wrap around your legs so it looks like you were poured in them.... hate to break it to ya, but those fuckin' zebra-striped toes don't come into play.
Girls may defend, "It's not for you! It's for us! We just wanna feel pretty!" Bullshit. Your girlfriends tell you that you look pretty so they:
a.) know what to copy or
b.) know you look bad but won't tell you 'cause that makes them look better.
And you've all done that at some point, don't even lie. And I don't care what you say, how bisexual you think you are, or how feminist/retarded you want to act, nothing in the world make you feel prettier than when a handsome man quietly smiles, looks deep into your eyes and softly tells you, "You look beautiful." No girlfriend of yours can do that. The opposite sex's acknowledgment makes you feel attractive. Your friend's opinions just keep your head above water.
So here's my guess: Women paint their toenails not because they want guys to notice them. Or to feel pretty. But because WOMEN. HATE. FEET. They do. I've never met a girl who went,
*gasp!* "FEET! I LOVE mine! Can I kiss yours!? Feetfeetfeet. I wish I could just cut mine off and wear them around my neck like a necklace. Or a feetlace. Is that a real thing? OGAWD WE SHOULD MAKE IT A REAL THING! I love feet!!"Women hate feet. I don't know why, they just do. They even go so far as to slip into denial about the size of their feet. If they're a size 8, they will fucking cram their entire foot and each of those toes into a fucking size 5. WITH A POINTED TIP. Which is bizarre, considering our feet fan out at the ends, instead of taper into a point. Why do they do that? Listen, women, you have smaller feet so you can stand closer to the stove.
Relax, I'm kidding.
But you can ask a girl about her middle name, her number of sexual partners, or her weight (which are more things girls are strangely defensive of) and they'll grudgingly tell you. But they will kick you in the golly bong bongs with their stilettos if you over-guess the size shoe their wearing.
Well I have some news for you, ladies. After everything you put them through, your feet probably fucking hate you.