By now you know it’s shark week—the most jawsome time of the year! ---
I don’t know how hammerheads hammer, so I’m not going to talk about it. Instead, because a frustrated male reader recently (and rightly) called me out on the shallow girls in SFe, I’m going to fall off the pedestal you’ve all put me on. I’m going to Discovery Channel-justify the horrible things I’ve done to the undeserving men in my life.
I’m sorry, all you lonely Y chromosomes and lady-seekers. I’ve been unfair. Dating here is hard for everyone. We’re all just animals. Here’s how:
We Stalk Prey
Some say showing up is half the battle. But on occasion, I’ve done more than just stick around until a dude wants me. Like the shark (or the serial killer), I’ve been out for blood.
At one point, I was singularly focused on a former model for Cosmopolitan Magazine with a passion for photography. I stalked him shark style—close enough to see, but not scare, him.
I created a completely fake photography hobby, paid a photographer to document my interest in amateur photography and improvement in the field over the past five years, and then made my move. The lights were low and my victim was alone.
As it turns out, though, it is really exhausting to feign interest in a hobby for months. Your boyfriend will find out, and he will be pissed.
Wild cats lay claim to their territory with urine. So do I.
After a guy I'd been talking to for a few weeks gave my drunk ass a baby jesus up his stairs, I proceeded to pee in his kitchen. Then I rubbed my pee tights all over his bed and legs.
I laid claim to my man. But not really.
I asked his roommate out five minutes later. Fine, this analogy may be a rubber band, but he was nice and I was a total asshole, so it applies.
Sometimes, you need help from a protecting alpha male. But what if he kind of sucks and you don’t actually want him around? Then he should cower at our feet. No? Enter the insect.
Some male insects mark their females by permanently filling her hole. Literally, they just never pull out.
Queenless ants like the extra junk in their trunk; they don’t have to deal with the other loser ants trying to bone. But they don’t want to have to actually deal with emotions all day long. They just want dick. So the female bites his ass in half, takes his chub and leaves the guy to die.
Like the ant, I’ve used men for their peen. But those guys usually deserve it. The ones who didn’t were the ones I just used—a teaching assistant and college professor for better grades, an RA for dorm room booze. I’ve even dumped a guy over Doritos.
So there you have it. I’m a total douche.
Let’s not jump the shark in the future. If we must be animals, it wouldn’t be bananas to be penguins or bonobos (they know more about recreational nookie than Fred Durst). Start with monkey business with a hottie on SFe’s Bonobo soccer team. Let me know how it goes.
