RUDE Pants

A few years back, when I arrived to the new world which is college, I noticed a lot of girls wearing tights (leggings) (not yet RUDE pants) instead of sweat pants to the gym. At times, these women would wear the gym attire to, from, and in class, understandably so. The operative phrase here is gym attire.

The next year, it progressed into girls on campus wearing them with ballerina flats, canvas sneakers, and (gasp) heels. And so it began. The opening salvo had been fired in the make force-men-all-around-the-world-admire-your-figure crusade.

Well...fine, I am man. I like that. Go for it.

The trend/ malady was taken a further step still, with the girls on campus not only wearing said tights with Uggs (or knock off snow boots), but with shirts that stop at or above the waist. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, butts were indeed exposed. These girls quickly wised up to the fact they cannot simply wear any type of underwear with the pants, rapidly transitioning to having more thongs and seam-less underwear in their drawers. From that point forward, women's butts (arses, culos) were to be forever exposed.

The trend developed into a kind of style, sorta like the "girl uniform" of RUDE pants and shirt. No need to coordinate jean washes anymore. And, like many styles, this one expanded to the masses, so civilians (including black girls with ridiculously big arses) began to adopt the RUDE pants style.

Epidemic indeed.

I know you see it all around you. Butts everywhere, jiggling with reckless abandon, teasing everything down to the very core of my manhood. Regarding trends, however, be it musical or of fashion, saturation tends to kill them off, or at least dilute them a bit. The RUDE pants have since become ubiquitous, and it has come to a point where seeing them is a bit paralyzing. Trying to avert your attention from the thin piece of 34% polyester-42% acrylic-21% rayon-3% spandex cloth is mentally draining task really.

Not that I'm a butt connoisseur or anything, but I'm a man. It's what we do.

I'd just ask that the RUDE pants are worn in moderation, not as the essential part of a wardrobe.

I just told someone about this post while writing and she said, "Guilty! I haven't worn jeans in a year." She's not lying.

Oh, and thanks for the tongue-in-cheek, American Apparel.

I haven't come up with an acronym for them yet, so feel free to christen RUDE with one in the comments.

Crazy Things Women Do On Facebook

“A woman might also use her Facebook photo albums to present an image of herself that doesn’t exactly match up to reality. In her photos she might appear more sexy, more adventurous and altogether more exciting than she is in real life.”

Check out this piece below from Ask Men.

Crazy Things Women Do On Facebook

And, yes, it's written by a woman, so she would know. But I'm sure many men partake in such fuckery as well.

Shared via AddThis

Sport Shopping

this post is courtesy of my iPhone, while shopping...with women. from time to time, due to extenuating circumstances, I end up shopping with women. no, I don't get persuaded or goaded into it. somehow, some-effing-how, it always happens. I must admit, maybe 1 percent of the time, I knowingly throw myself to the wolves and agree to this shopping-with-women thing. (random: when I'm agitated, I tend to not make eye contact). anyway, shopping-with-women may be the most disappoining and upsetting thing. ever.

technically, women don't know how to shop. generalization: they buy things because they're on sale, not because they actually want them. putting it all together, guys are minimalists in a sense (I know I am), whereas girls have a bunch of extra crap they never really wanted in the first place. oh, and like many woman endeavors, this shopping occurs very sslloowwllyy.

while men do things like throw around a football, play a quick 21 or hours of FIFA/ madden, women shop with women. and, as aforementioned, it takes forever...literally. I'm sure the man things I mentioned above are equally upsetting to them (women), and i bet my female friends can enlighten me in that regard. but for now, I can't see it from that perspective, as I am but one man. I mean, think about it: me seeing it from their perspective would grant me way too much power and clairvoyance, thereby destroying the universe.

Women, you can't live with 'em...

I hate when women get angry at you just to see how you’re gonna react. Over my illustrious career of women-chasing, I’ve noticed some women just try their best to give their man (men) what I would characterize as bitch tests.

No, this is not bitch in the sense of a female dog or a female, even. This is bitch as in pussy, if you will. Anyway, such examinations usually occur when the woman (some women get mad when I call them females, or women for that matter—I think ladies is the middle ground) feels insecure about herself and/ or her man and/ or the relationship as a whole.

Exhibit A: a woman and I got into a WWF (Mean Girls)-style shouting match. What the argument was about is irrelevant, but the aftermath is important. After a few days of not talking (daily phone conversations were common before our Wrestlemania fight), my phone rings. “So you don’t care about me anymore?” I didn’t even get a “hello.” She jumped right into it. Such things occur on tests, as the examiner tries to throw you off guard with some questions you didn’t even get to yet. Anyway, I responded plainly that I did, and that I was just annoyed by her at the moment and didn’t feel like talking. “so u just don’t care?” “I do” “no, you don’t” “I DO! LEAVE ME THE EFF ALONE YOU’RE EFFING ANNOYING!”

Now, there’s a difference between caring and giving an eff. Caring includes cognisance that the woman is alive, a genuine interest in her well-being and safety.

Yes, you read the text correctly. I do NOT miss you.

Giving a eff would require the man to acquiesce in a situation like above and say something just to make her smile, like “I’m sorry baby, I’ve just been tremendously stressed out from (work, school, eating babies, etc…)” instead of the reaction in all caps above. As far as tests go, I passed this one with flying colors. She, on the other hand, just couldn’t understand my handwriting.