Guyvillisburgsontownwellmandudenfield- A man wakes up with plenty of time to spare. He has an important day ahead of him and, like any responsible person has left a good deal of extra time to his disposal in case of emergency.
Anyway, he will be able to take a shower, eat, get ready and all this can be done at his leisure. He brushes the teeth, shaves the face, and hops into the shower. Gets himself Zestfully clean and feels like he’s ready to conquer the world.
Man, who I will now call Quincy, dries off, puts on a pair of short knickers and heads for his bedroom. There he examines his closet quickly: finds a pair of brownish pants, grabs them, finds a yellowish shirt, grabs a yellowish tie, then grabs a blueish argyle sweater vest. “Yes, this will work,” says Quincy. His eyes are still adjusting, so he leaves the light off. He is clothed in a matter of about 8 minutes.
He walks back into the bathroom to see what the finished product looks like. He notices that all the colors go with something else in some scheme or another. However, he then begins to worry that just because he thinks that his ‘outfit’ (and I use that term loosely, because MEN don’t make outfits, they make stuff that works for the day) works and he looks smashing doesn’t mean that the women at work won’t make fun of him for this heinous act of style murder. He can imagine it now…
“Did you see what he wore?! How would he ever think that he could pull off that outfit. And wearing white shoes!? He’s not fooling anybody.
Yikes. Poor Quincy…
Now, how to get dressed with a female. Let’s just call her your current significant other.
Let’s say you are at her place. You spent the night and brought enough clothes to get ready and go where you need to after spending time with “the love of your life.”
The alarm clock goes off at an UNGODLY time. You frantically search for it, but it’s no where to be found. (That search is limited to what you can reach without getting off the bed.) Finally, you find it hidden under stuffed animals and pillows on your side of the bed of course. You look at the time and it’s 5:55 a.m. Your soul mate has some how managed to fall back asleep or stay sleeping throughout this entire process. It’s mind blowing, but so are females in general.
In an attempt to be as gentle and caring as possible you lean over and whisper “What time do you need to get up and ready for work?” In a stupor she responds, “10:00 a.m.”
Instantly your blood boils. You start thinking to yourself, “don’t say it, don’t say anything, don’t say a single word about why the heck she sat the alarm for that time, just DON’T QUINCY.” So, now you’re awake, therefore you get out of bed softly, not to disturb the princess. But, you fail, she’s awake. And now you’re her slave until you leave for work.
“Yes?”
“Do you think you could get me a glass of ice water, oh, and a Motrin?”
“How big of a glass? How many Motrin?”
“Just pick one, it’s not hard. And get me the whole bottle if you can make a damn decision on your own accord.”
“Yes, my love.”
Grab the pills, grab the water. Climb the stairs to hear the shower on.
Yup, she did it. She got in the shower before me. The next 45 minutes were to be nothing not unlike torture.
Finally, she’s out. You hop in wash like a monkey on cocaine. Get out through on the clothes your brought. You catch the GF out of the corner of your eye waving her head in disagreement with the choice of clothing.
Oh, no. Do I defend how I look (Worst choice) B. Ask her to help pick out something better because she’s so stylish.
She does. Then she wants to have coffee so you can talk, you say sure, but tell her only one or two cups because you need to get to work as soon as possibly. Of course this hurts her feelings. “Why can’t we ever just enjoy something, you are always ruining things with your gotta be here gotta be there.”
“Sorry dear, do you want to come to my place after work?”
“No! Your place is chilly and I am always at your house.”
“Maybe we can meet at a neutral spot. Like Kaathiey Annieleedoodle Park?”
“Sure, It’ll be fun.”
As I was leaving her apartment, I sent her a text in an effort to end the relationship. I told her this “I’m not sure if I have the time for a serious relationship.”
She responded by saying, “Never always say, never always say, DEATH is FOREVER.”
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