Cracked out and sad that less than 11 hours later I am back at work I put in my headphones and turned on some of the fine slam poetry of Kit Yan. First poem up- Straight Girls. It wasn't quite loud enough for me so I turned it up all the way. After about 3 minutes I realized that the reason it hadn't been loud enough for me was that the sound was not coming through my headphones. Yes, oh yes, I had plugged to headphones into the mic hole and had blasted Kit's anger over being jerked around by straight girls for all of the office to hear!
I am a genius!
I'm never leaving my cubicle again.
Here are the words that were blasted for all to hear in case you are interested:
Like to date girls.
And then they go back,
To their boyfriends,
Who don't want them,
And then they go back.
Like to make girls think they'll love them until the end.
And then they've got the nerve to say, "What? we're just friends."
And I hate that.
I hate girls.
I sound like a second grader.
But there's no better way to truly convey what I feel.
I hate girls.
I hate them because they lie.
And you know those shits that say, "boys lie."
A better shirt would say, "boys lie, but girls lie to your fucking face and lead you on in an unexplainable way, and then leave you there with so many questions, you wonder if you're still gay!"
Okay, I got carried away.
But it's true.
Girls will fuck with you.
Feed you compliments,
Wear unforgettable scents,
Have deep, meaningful, and intense conversations with you,
Until the cows go home with them on their backs.
I fucking hate girls.
Because they do nice things.
Little things meaningful things.
And if I were a guy, I might not notice at all.
But there's the fucking problem.
I'm a girl.
But I hate girls,
Because I understand the bullshit they file away.
To feed the different girls, that they pretend to date.
"We need to hang out."
But we won't.
"Wow, I had a great time, I'll call you okay?"
And she won't.
"We need to talk."
And that's never good.
"Hey, we'll still be friends."
And we never should,
Have started this fucking piece of shit motherfucking crap to begin with.
No, I haven't lost my mind, just my vocab.
What? You think I chose this path?
My fucking life is like Attack of the Killer Lesbians,
Filled with some of the greatest actresses.
Or some nights it's like meet "Miss Right" on the Woman show.
Behind door number one:
The ever so beautiful experimental bi-curious straight girl, with a long term boyfriend and it was HER who asked YOU out.
Behind door number two:
The elusive bisexual girl, who at first glance, you thought you had no chance, but she hit on you while standing next to the guy she just made out with.
And behind door number three:
Your standard issue L-U-G. Lesbian Until Graduation, my favorite conveniently located at your nearest all-girls college.
Smith, Simmons, Wellesley, wherever.
But oh wait, there's more.
Who's the lovely lady behind door number four?
Ah, your regular old lesbian,
Fully equipped with all the tricks of the trade,
Now this is what a lesbianÂ’s made of.
Wants everything from you,
Yet nothing at all.
So go ahead, take your pick, but I'm fucking done.
You girls can play your game because you've already won.
And for the record, please don't call.