How Women Describe Women

easyIf you’re single, like me, and you have female friends who are not mating options (rare, I know), you’re going to need a guide to understanding how they rate their gender mates. For example, if you hear the description, “She has had some work done,” what should you expect? First, the woman who says this has probably had some work done. The amount of work the describer had done will be proportionate to the amount the subject had. If she says, “She’s had a lot of work done,” you should expect Donald Duck with hair extensions, fake eyelashes, and planet-sized boobs.

Here are other adjectives, and their likely meanings:

  • Bitch – She is not the submissive type.
  • Cunt – Ouch! This would be a bitch with a high level of meanness, and the intent of causing emotional injury. She probably has a hot boyfriend who refused to date the describer.
  • Hot Mess – More attractive than the describer, but has a tendency to get drunk, pee next to her car, and still manage to get laid.
  • Yoga Girl – Expect dirty feet, green fluids in her fridge (where beer should be), and sweaty sex.
  • Badass – She makes a fuck-ton of money, and has no intention of spending it on a man.
  • Bubbly – Disconnected from reality. Often giggles or screams for unknown reasons. Loses her phone nightly. Seems to know everyone.
  • Frumpy – Has given up on men, including the one she married. Expect hairy legs and romance novels.
  • Curvy – Same as when men say it: fat.
  • Sassy – Ego puncher who will pick apart everything that means anything to a man. One short stride from full-blown lesbian.
  • High Maintenance – Might as well keep your wallet un-holstered. Expect orders to be customized to the point of causing kitchen anxiety. She’ll order dressing on the side, no olives, and gluten-free items. Expect most meals to be returned to the kitchen three times before consuming. Also, expect zero blow jobs.
  • Ho – Has had sex with the describer’s ex.
  • High Strung – Rarely seen without a massive goblet of Starbucks. Probably takes spin class twice a day, and loves to remind you about it.
  • Unstable – Be careful with this one in public places and around sharp instruments. Best to respond to her leading questions with smiles and nods—words will be misinterpreted, and used against you … forever.
  • Strong-Willed – There are two ways to do something with this woman: her way or your way if it matches her way. Don’t bother taking any stances on politics, religion, or nutrition. Concentrate on her titties. Good boy!
  • Classy – Hides her insecurities behind a veil of high fashion. Don’t let her order the wine. Once you get her naked, you’ll find a different (quite dirty) woman.
  • Easy – She’s shares your morals and values.

Take care of your body. It’s the only place you have to live.

psu(quote by Jim Rohn)

I was taken out to the ballgame by a group of buddies. Naturally, we spent most of the time questioning umpires and pointing out delicious women in nearby sections. What women need to understand (and, they should, because they do the same damn thing) is that when men objectify a woman or body part, we do so with the utmost sense of love and appreciation. It is somehow more acceptable to say, “Look at those tits,” than it is to say, “Look at her tits!” I assume this is because the “her” connected to those tremendous globs of glands may also be connected to another man or, worse, a bit too young to have old creepers oohing and ahhing her like fireworks.

Last night, I was exposed to a new term, which I adore and have adopted. It’s an acronym, actually: PSU. (No, this has nothing to do with the Nittany Boy Soapers.) Notably, this term may be applied to either gender. Most recently, it was used in the following sentence:

“Wow, what a rack! I wonder how the PSU is.”

PSU, as in Pussy Support Unit.

If you’re cringing, simply trade “Pussy” for “Penis”–something I can’t bring myself to consider, no matter how many trips I take to the desert.

A PSU is basically the rest–the chaff, the peel, the flesh, the emotions, what have you. There’s really no reason to take offense, as there was no assumption made about a faulty PSU. He simply wondered how it was. It may have been spectacular as well. Pristine, even. Sometimes fast, comfortable cars come with fine exteriors, and minimal maintenance requirements. That PSU could be some quad-core, multi-giga-ram shit.

Now, if you’re curious to know if any of my fellow swine and I had the testicular fortitude to approach her and speak to her in order to learn more about the SU and take our minds off the P, well, let’s just say we left the pretty little toy on the shelf where she belongs.

I’ve been with or near enough packs of women to know the same objectification happens as they scan the area for sausage.

“Ah. Ladies, may I call your attention to heavenly bartender boy, with eyes like pools of arctic ice.”

“Nice. This may require further investigation to determine if it has a functional PSU.”

“It certainly pours a heavy drink–a plus.”

“It also was very polite when taking our order. I say kudos to the designers.”

“Does it dance?”

“Lord, who knows?”

“Do you think it kisses properly? I’d hate to invest in the PSU, only to find a sloppy leak.”

“Ee-yuck. Think it has an owner?”

“Possibly. But, we all know the PSU can be confused and hacked into quite easily. Pardon me while I layer on some lip gloss.”

“There are other Ps in the vicinity, my dears. Perhaps, we shouldn’t be hasty.”

“True, but there seems to be quite a few rusty, old PSUs lying around.”

“Sometimes those are more reliable.”

“And, sometimes they need Vitamin V to function properly.”

Why do good boys like bad girls?

See that? It works both ways. I’m not suggesting we good boys prefer our girls unclean, gassy, or riding choppers. We will tolerate a bit of scruff below the belt as well as repeated use of the F-word, though we prefer it to be creative. No, we’re not suggesting you carve your beave beard into an arrow. I was referring to cussing like a football coach.

When I was taking my first stabs at vagina, I preferred the pristine type–rarely visited–attached to Ms. Demure. It was like new construction: there aren’t many scars until I move in and leave my mark. This lady was the ideal specimen to expose to family, friends, and coworkers. She’d sit politely and converse innocently as to not adversely affect my standing. Still, when naughtiness is sought, horns don’t fit this angel.

Roll forward. I have no time to train a delicious young specimen the fine art of knob gobbling. I prefer to be taught a new method of the pleasurable distribution of my genetic stew. Hence, much as the bad boy is expected to deliver a good deep dicking, the bad girl is expected to be receptive, nay, insistent upon receiving such and will not hesitate to tell me so using gasp-inducing words.

Good girls will sprinkle flowery perfume, wear lacy undies, and giggle when touched.
Bad girls smell of last night’s bourbon and weed, forget to wear undies, and grind into the hand that teases.

Good girls will chat bar-side about American Idol while sipping zin and nibbling side salads.
Bad girls will double-fist warm tequila and cold beer, dump hot sauce on everything, and punch you when they laugh.

Good girls want to go to wine tasting events, plays, and art galleries.
Bad girls want to stay home, put on Comedy Central, order Chinese food, and get busy even while mid-eggroll.

Good girls are anxious for you to meet their friends and families.
Bad girls are bored with theirs and would rather go to a firing range than subject you to the monotony of childhood stories.

Good girls ask you to drive slowly with the windows up as to not mess their hair.
Bad girls call you a pussy, push down your right leg, roll down the windows, and flash the slowpokes you pass.

Good girls read the silliness I write, then cringe and ask what left me so jaded.
Bad girls get the joke, say “fuckin’ A,” and dare me to write about something they inspire by exposing their darkest desires to me.

Dear Philly: Why do men [fill in the blank]?

I realize it’s dangerous to post such questions on Facebook and Twitter because men are stupid, psycho, stalkers. So, you can post your question anonymously as a comment on this blog post and I’ll write a reply on my Facebook fan page at SuchaNiceGuy.

Post any question or observation you have about dating, relationships, and sex. Philly the Guru will rub his crystal balls, end your confusion, and ease your pain.