Girl Pisses Butterfly Off.. Badly

There are certain things you should NEVER attempt to pitch to me if you are not hot. For one, I don’t care if you think you’re hot. You’re not, until I say you are.

She: “You have to prove yourself worthy to me..”

Guess what my reply to this was? Hands up if you said, “Go fuck yourself.”

Me: “Go fuck yourself. Who the fuck are you to tell me if I’m worthy?”

If you came up with a similar reply, you are getting the hang of things. All you need now is to learn to land one single quick blow to their larynx, just so that if the shock from your reply doesn’t dumbfound them, you know your fatal blow will.

Prove myself worthy? Do you even know who you have to be to even tell me that? Why don’t you prove yourself? Go buy yourself a stairway to Heaven, you’ll need it to be spared my wrath.

1. Do you drink?

Given my intemperance for the juices, my propensity to gulp and my insouciance for social norms, it’s only natural my date has to share a toast or two. Or alternatively, you can volunteer to pick up my tab.

My recent abstinence of this has left me a lassitude mass of a docile social product, one comparatively lacking that same vulgar fervor that made me so bewilderedly loved by you.

See what lack of alcohol does?

So, if you who abstains from alcohol or embrace it so disgracefully with uncontrollable drunkness, you are not worthy. I hate people who have no control over themselves when drunk or even tipsy. Girls should NEVER get drunk, I won’t give a fuck about you and I certainly will not entertain you.

2. Do you drive?

This will soon be an invalid bracket for me. Given that I have 2 more months of suspension to sit out before I can re-take my license, I’ll soon no longer need to subject myself to petty tête-à-tête with women who helm the wheels.

The only reason why my misery of not being about to drive is proxied or my compliance to leave the house at anomalous hours is because the girls I’ve been dating this year mostly drive.

Unless you can offer me something I can’t otherwise attain or possess (read as “driving license”), spare me your insolence. But just because you drive me around doesn’t give you priority over anything else. I owe you nothing. For that one person who thinks I have an obligation of companionship just because so, you can go fuck a cow.

Think of it as a Faustian Bargain. I surrender to trivial pleasantries, tenebrous compliments and quixiotical requests. I’d even agree that chocolate milk is fresh from an afro spotting cow just so that I get a ride up to my doorstep.

3. Can you shuffle?

Most girls look hot shuffling, with some exceptions of cos. Naturally, learning to shuffle or attempting to will gain you huge bonus points to redeem for kisses, hugs and pregnancy.


Seldom do I let anyone affect me, emotional blackmail or yeast infections, but this girl deserves a sample backlash of my contemptuous tongue. Here’s to re-evaluating your scuzzy self-worth,

“If you had brains it’ll make up for your lack of vital organs which comprise of breast.”

You know what pissed me off absolutely? She wanted me to date her (something which will NEVER cross my mind) and she’s telling me I’ve to prove myself?

I prove myself for NO ONE. Neither do I give a fuck about anyone except the hawker who threatens to add more chilli in my noodles. I’ve had to work less to bed hotter girls and smiled less to get a compliment. So…

Dear CelluliteAss,

What makes you worthy?

Achieving midget PR status without your heels? Being a Hobbit extra? Living in the Shire? Needing your bra cups for humps?

No, no.. I’ll tell you..

If you painted your zits black, you can be marketed as a chocolate chip cookie.