“We hate hot girls . . . [who don’t realize] they’re high maintenance”
–“5 Things Men Don’t Like About Single Women,” YourTango
Hey eligible, employed, virile men of the world! Aren’t you sick of hot girls who are so high-maintenance . . . and don’t even realize it? I mean, what are you, maintenance men? Are you looking for a girl who is so low-maintenance that she can hang with you and your bros and is like down for whatever? Then look no farther than me, a woman with very bad clinical depression.
5 Things About Clinically Depressed Women that Will Drive Men Wild
1. You know when you’re trying to go out and have fun and your girl is like, “Give me fifteen minutes, I just need to shower”. . . then two hours later she’s still in the bathroom? What do women do in there anyway? Well, aren’t you lucky because I shower once a week, at most. And when I do? I don’t use fancy shit like most dumb mentally stable women, with their “loofahs” and “conditioner”—literally, I lather some body wash in my armpits, use the same body wash for my hair, rinse, then quickly collapse on the shower floor to cry for a few minutes, and get out. Good to go!
2. You know when women are like, “Babe, take me to that new, standing-room only theme restaurant the New York Times raved about”? Well, guess what. I will eat whatever you put in front of me. Goldfish, tunafish, Swedish Fish . . . and I don’t mean to say I eat only fish. Donuts, chicken, plain pasta, pasta with butter, McDonald’s, bread, sardines (oops, fish again), cauliflower, mozzarella sticks, lettuce that is used as a garnish underneath mozzarella sticks . . . you get the point: I’m extremely chill. Oh, and sometimes I don’t eat at all, for days.
3. Listen, you know how women are so obsessed with their girlfriends? They’re always making you meet their work friends, their college frenemies, and their Pinterest rivals. You have to keep track of names and pretend to give a shit that someone might be thinking about maybe trying to get pregnant in a few years. Well, you might as well have won the lottery because I have pushed all my friends away. Even if I wanted you to meet my so-called friends, then they would text me, “ah sorrrry, we’re busy but let’s def catch up soon, k? be well”
4. You know how women are so bossy and demanding about getting their sexual needs met? They’re constantly yapping about the “female orgasm” and nagging about their “pleasure” and “reciprocity.” Not me. The cocktail of psychotropic meds that I’m on precludes orgasm and any emotion about it.
5. You know how women are the worst? It’s like: can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em. Or could you? Admit it, sometimes you wonder, only for a moment or two, What if my girlfriend just . . . disappeared? No questions asked. Left you in peace, for once. So you could finally finish that Garage Band album without her constant support and encouragement. Well, your prayers have been answered because I have persistent thoughts of getting away from it all. With a nearly nonexistent prompt—a weird tone to your silence, a less-than-enthused response to all the water I’ve been drinking lately—I might go AWOL. I can’t commit to tomorrow, so I’m the woman of your dreams! And once I’m gone, your dreams of me are all you’ll have. That’s about as low maintenance as it gets. So call me! (I won’t pick up and my voicemail is full).
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