delusion

That Mel Gibson movie where he could hear women's thoughts was fucking stupid. What the hell kind of superpower is that? Anyone can hear women's thoughts...say, "How are you?" Most of the girls I know will catalogue their complaints and woe if you let them.

Men aren't from Mars and women aren't from Venus. If everyone that was spitting game, playing games and getting played just shut the fuck up and called a spade a spade...this shit could be real easy.

i say....

Fuck having tact.
I'm as subtle as a brick to the small of your back. Manners and social graces are boring and overrated, just bullshit with a better outfit.
I know my flaws and I'll wear them on my sleeve...better I spell out the bad things and have you discover the good on your own than tease you with my merits and disappoint you later.
Meeting and dating and fucking and fighting and loving and lusting and losing and leaving would be so much easier if we stopped trying to trick each other and just laid shit out as it is:
I am loud and ornery. I chain smoke. I smoke weed like it's going out of style. I am a scrawny little thing, hopelessly girlish and emotional. But don't confuse that for weakness.
I don't want to fucking cuddle. Don't call me cute. I'll kick cute's ass.
I write compulsively, obsessively. I am antisocial and conflicted as a result. I pontificate shamelessly and masterbate relentlessly. I read Shakespeare and the Bible and am prone to excessive snobbery. I don't drink, don't dance, don't enjoy parties and don't own a television.
If you can deal with all that, i really don't ask for much.
When you approach me at a bar and offer to buy me a drink, I want to be able to buy you one instead so when I kiss you goodnight, I don't feel like a hooker.
I don't want you to wait three days to call me if you are thinking about me later that night.
I don't want you take me to sushi. I don't want you to drop hints about how rich/intelligent/successful you are.
I don't want to wear a padded bra or high heels, dropping hints about how sexy/desired/hard-to-earn I am.
If you don't tell me lies to get me naked, I'll most likely take my clothes off for you.
If you respect me enough to not care when you call me just to say hi even though your friends are yelling "pussy" and making whipping noises from the other room, I'll do undignifed things to you when they aren't around (& pretend I don't know that you tell them).

If you don't talk shit when I listen to Garth Brooks and don't criticize The Cure, I'll ignore the fact that you have played the same song 500 times a night since you started writing it.
If you don't get jealous when I kiss pretty girls or ask if I'm "on that porn site AGAIN?" I'll ignore the lipstick on your collar.
I won't laugh when you mispronounce words like 'especially' and 'kiosk' if you don't yell at me when I accidentally drip ice cream into the keys of your Powerbook.
You don't need to replace the stack of Gamer magazines on your kitchen table with hardcover books of glossy Escher paintings for me to want to hang out at your apartment and I won't name drop Sigur Ros or Sparklehorse to validate my hipness.
I don't need to hide my tampons or spray my sheets with perfume for you to hang out at my apartment and you don't have to put the toilet seat down or even close the door, I don't give a fuck.
If you promise not to pretend to understand my poetry when you don't, I will promise to never say "I dont mind if you don't want to stay the night" when I really mean "if I wake up in the morning and you are gone, you will never see my vagina again".
I don't need to believe that you grew a dick the day you met me or that it shrivels up and dies when you aren't with me.
You don't need to hide your porn dvds in the pocket of your old winter jacket in the hall closet. I won't pretend that I don't watch them when you aren't home, or get mad that you hid them & use them as an excuse for why I dont want to give you head later.
I don't want to call you twice a day, I don't want you to buy me flowers.
I want you to let me pay when you're broke as fuck, and tell me when I have food in my teeth.
If you notice when I get my eyebrows waxed or when I dye my hair, I'll ooh and aah over your new compressor pedal, though I know fuck all about what it is supposed to do.
I don't need promises, flattery or chivalry. ( The door's not that heavy, I can open it myself).
I don't want a love story, I don't want your money or last name.
I want to laugh and live and sweat and leave.
It could be so simple. but since it's not, and I don't know you. I think I'll stay here and wait, procrastinating, masterbating...just fucking myself.