Dear Ladies: Wait for 30

It’s been around seven weeks since Emily and I started this blog.

During this time, I have scoured the WordPress blogosphere and I have literally lost count of the number of posts I’ve read about how men are immature, creepy, and have a general lack of common sense.

Gee, y’all ladies are real funny.

No, to be honest, I enjoy reading these diatribes on males. The female bloggers we follow have great senses of humor and I look forward to reading more rants about the buffoonery surrounding men.

But yet, I am a man.

It’s like hearing a racist joke about Asians told by a non-Asian. It’s funny and I laugh, but I can’t help but feel some level of angst, right?

Actually, no, I love racist jokes. They never upset me, unless the joke is super lame. But I digress.

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Here is what I want to say to the hetero-female bloggers out there:

Okay, I get it: men suck.

We can be Neanderthals at times, many times in fact. We always laugh if a fart or a dick joke is involved.

Our communication skills are, well let’s just say they can leave something to be desired. Sometimes we text you so much that the iMessage thought bubble seems permanently fixed to the text conversation, and yet there are other times when we act like you don’t even exist.

We want sex all the time. No dinner. No movie. No drinks. Just come over. Conversation? Bitch please. So what if it’s 3 AM and we live thirty miles away? Our magical penises will make it worth you’re while.

Do you feel those eyes staring at you from across the bar, burning a quarter-shaped hole into your cerebral cortex? Yeah, that’s us. We are on full-creep mode, our eyes looking you up and down as our mind’s eye undresses you, naked as the day you were born. And we don’t give a fuck.

We’ll buy you a drink. See, this way your inhibitions will go down and you’ll be shoving your vaginas in our faces. It’s a full-proof plan.

Movies? Books? Hobbies? Which ones do we like? Whichever one gets us in your pants.

***

Okay, calm down everyone. I just wanted to paint a picture of the men you all are describing in these blog posts.

Here’s the thing: to me, most of these guys sound like men in their twenties.

Men in their twenties are nothing but giant balls of testosterone (pun definitely intended) held together by bones, organs, and flesh.

You have to forgive them; it’s a biological thing. And now that every type of porn known to man is available in about 5 seconds, well they’re just jacking off constantly, and this is only making them more impatient and more prone to throw out manners and just go for the jugular.

Since it’s 2015 now, if a male was born between 1985 and 1995, he is probably masturbating to some grotesque shit right at this very moment. But I digress yet again.

***

There’s a silver lining: we mature at 30.

When we hit 30, we think, “Hey, wouldn’t it be cool if we just listened once in a while?”

Or, “Wow, I actually enjoy spending a Friday night at home reading a good book.”

Or even still, “She’s got a cool personality. I appreciate the conversations we have.”

Wait, hold up, did you just say conversation? Yes I did. You see, we get better at that sort of thing, that whole human interaction thing. We give less shits about trying to impress you and more shits about being true to ourselves.

We learn to stand up for our principles and values, and this makes us unique.

We can develop genuine interest in you as a person, while still wanting to have sex with you, no doubt. But this we know can wait.

Guys get better at 30; we actually start to grow up.

But keep dating them twenty-somethings, because I love reading these blog posts.

Yours truly,

– Chris.