By: Matthew Glenside
Somewhere along the course of my tumultuous dating adventures I began to question—is it just me? Could I be the one to blame for the oft-combative nature of my relationship with my girlfriend’s “best friend?” About 5 years ago, I probably would’ve admitted after much alcohol, inward reflection and emotional talk, yes, yes it was me being a douche, being too judgey* and that I’m hopelessly impossible to get along with. 5 years later, alas, present day, it matters not my state of intoxication, nor need for reflection, that no, no it is not my fault. For some reason, I am only attracted to a certain cross-section of girl who is hopelessly too fucking stupid to judge the character of the idiots they call friends.
I find it important to note that for as much of an asshole that I am, and for as much as an asshole ALL of these women will tell you I am (half deservedly, half hyperbolized to the ends of the earth), I am a serial monogamist who never cheats. I’ll force Harris at some point to write about the way I get with women: wicked invested with a touch of worship. I’m a horrible boyfriend on so many levels, but… eh, forget it. Maybe I just am the worst thing in the world.
Allow me to explain after the jump!
Mandy – My first girlfriend. The girl that first let me play in her sandbox. The girl who made me a man… 6 days after her having hip surgery. Forced her to be on top.
Best Friend: Nikki - Nikki was, and I still suspect is, a lover of Cleopatra bangs. First of all, you know how many people look good with bangs like that? Paget Brewster and Cleopatra herself, not Nikki. Her A-cup and stick-up-the-ass walk didn’t do much to make up for dumb haircut and dim personality that she wore so well on her crooked face. She was a great friend to Mandy, highlighted by her insistence that they hang out and then inviting these two douche bags—Shaun and Mike—to come by, even though they were notorious for torturing Mandy to the point of tears on a weekly basis. She was a great person as well. Once, during my senior year of high school, she asked me to set her up with a friend of mine. So Mandy and I and Nikki and my buddy, a phenomenal artist, Mikey P all went out on Halloween night to a spooky old cemetery. The date was pretty much over when she told him, “you can’t go to college FOR ART!” when he informed her of his acceptance to a prestigious art school in New York City.
Kiarra – The second girl I ever slept with. The girl that taught me how to be a man… She was an unforgivably huge whore who lost it at 13.
Best Friend: Herpes The Clown - I don’t remember her real name, it doesn’t matter, absolute subhuman trash. She had to weigh 210 lbs, most of it carried in neat cellulite luggage called her ass, the rest accounted for in blue eye shadow, fake nails, whore glitter, mascara, and an atrocious gut. Most famous for walking in on Kiarra being raped by a mutual friend, doing nothing to stop it, and telling Kiarra the next day—as she was being whisked away on a stretcher—that she better not rat the rapist out to the police because “he’d get in trouble.”
Christine – Didn’t have friends. Worst person I’ve ever met in my life.
Best Friend: Sadness, alcohol, her father’s physical abuse.
Bailey – Ever wonder what it would look like if a raccoon and a crack whore stripper were placed in opposite sides of the Large Hadron Collider to be hurled at break-neck speeds at one another, finally crashing and combining into one giant-racked slut? Apparently I did. I lived with this beast for a year, spending most of my nights sleeping on a couch just to get away from how disgusting this thing smelled. Seriously, there are only so many times I can hear, “I farted during sex,” before my boner takes a permanent leave-of-absence.
Best Friend: Ashley - If her reliance upon Bailey as an emotional crutch for every aspect of her life is any indication, Ashley will be a perfect candidate to find religion. Sure, good friends are there for you when you need some support, but Jesus, learn to wipe your own ass! Boyfriend and her got in a fight? 2 hour phone call in tears. Tough day at work (at Sport’s Authority)? 2 hour phone call in tears. Fender bender? 3 separate phone calls in tears. Just found out boyfriend gave her herpes? An entire night spent in the emergency room… in tears. Biggest reason to nominate Ashley for an award in excellence—when she started sleeping with OP Harris, foregoing condoms, she neglected to mention that she pays good money for Valtrex every month.
Jane – We’re friends to this day, but “together” we’re like two beta fish in a pint glass.
Best Friend: Had some stupid name like Layla, or Nina. Adria! - That was it. Awful name. Jane used to date her brother, Matt, who was a psychopath assbag who liked to hit Jane on the reg. Now, that’s not Adria’s fault, and it is her brother, but I never felt there was any need to make mention of him every third sentence that spewed forth from her cold sore-encrusted mouth while I was around.
Annie – Another one that didn’t have any real friends, something that I learned after she graduated college when we all realize the difference between school friends and real friends.
I was just taking a piss and thought to myself, well, with my constant head-butting between my girlfriends’ friends and I, it would be a good thing if she didn’t have any friends. I disregarded that thought for the many obvious reasons, mainly, healthy people don’t not have healthy relationships with others. But a friendless relationship does have its tempting upsides! A girl’s single whore-friends are never actually happy for their friend when they find a guy that makes them happy. They’re pissed that their once-whore-friend can’t be a stupid drunk whore with them any longer. As someone with quasi-introverted tendencies, my ideal weekend date nights are best spent cooking dinner for someone, drinking crappy beer and watching tv while cuddled on the couch. And while the Criminal Minds marathon continues on while we eat a homemade meal and get buzzed on PBR, the friend continues on her hunt for dick at her favorite sleazy bar acutely aware that she’s just slightly even more alone than usual.
Best friend: Jacqui – Someone who hated life as much as Annie did. After Annie broke up with me (then slashed my tire), she turned her wrath upon Jacqui for all the shit she hates about herself: being overweight, depression, prescription drug dependency, cynicism, lack of self-confidence, etc. Somehow Annie then blamed ME for her flipping out and alienating herself from her last remaining friend. Riiiiight.
There’s clearly something to be said about my highly combative nature and strong personality, but look at these shit suckers! How could I NOT dislike these people? What does it say about me that the girls I choose to be with choose to be friends with pure scum? If my exes are so open to abuse and sub-par treatment from their <3besties<3 does that mean I also feed them the same diet of shit?
Or is it more proof for my sorry sorry eyes that 99% of American women are despicable? I leave that 1% open because I know my mom somehow finds and reads this awful site. Do women have no respect for one another? I know they have none for themselves, so I don’t understand why they’d dole out any respect to others, so perhaps I’ve got my answer.
Stand up for yourselves.
Harris, Heartman, Van and I were able to write articles tearing one another apart because we all do have an incredible amount of respect for one another… so much so that we can do it in the open for all to see, man-to-man. Unlike women, we don’t need to have a behind-the-back shit-talking campaign leveling to destroy your feminine rivals/friends. The term seems so fucking interchangeable these days and quite frankly, you clams make me sick.
*I can’t tell you the amount of girls who have told me that I am “judgey.” Regardless of how many times I’d fire back, the word is “judgemental,” you dumb fuck, they’d charge ahead, blissfully ignorant that they sounded like the dumb sewer creatures they all were.
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