Why Men Should Stop Trying to Please Women

Men take a lot of flak for their obnoxious ticks and disgusting habits, but admit it ladies, putting up with us isn't all rainbow-colored unicorns galloping off into the sunset in a field of glitter, either. Women will argue this until the day we die, but the truth is, we have no fu*king clue what we want.
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I often wonder why Mother Nature would leave the fate of mankind in the hands of such conflicting members of the human race. Let's be honest for a second; men and women can't stand each other. But, since the beginning of time, a curse was put on both genders, embedding a deep-seated gluttonous craving for one another that is almost impossible to ignore.

Men take a lot of flak for their obnoxious ticks and disgusting habits, but admit it ladies, putting up with us isn't all rainbow-colored unicorns galloping off into the sunset in a field of glitter, either. Women will argue this until the day we die, but the truth is, we have no fu*king clue what we want.

Sorry guys, but you really got screwed on this one.

Women Want: I just want you to find me completely sexy and irresistible.

What Happens When We Get It: Seriously, again?! We just had sex like 4 hours ago. What am I to you, a human blowjob machine? That's all you think I'm good for isn't it. Stop grabbing my ass all the time; it's disrespectful. Heeellllooooo, my eyes are up here. I have a brain you know ... can't we just have an intellectual conversation? Ugh, grow up!!

Women Want: Always tell me the truth or our relationship is over.

What Happens When We Get It:
Man: That outfit is ... interesting...
Woman: It's over.

Women Want: Why can't you just surprise me and cook dinner for once?

What happens When We Get It: Woman walks into kitchen, which now looks like the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy, to find man cooking "dinner". Oh, you're cooking? Why didn't you tell me? Hey, what did you use to marinate the meat because, uh, I usually use this specific marinade that's on Bobby Flay's "must-have marinade" list so... did you use it? You have to cut the onions in half-moons. Did you wash these potatoes; they look like they still have quite a bit of dirt on them. You're going to overcook the meat; it's supposed to be 5 minutes per side, not ... oh, never mind, just let me do it.

Women Want: Don't--under ANY circumstances--let me eat junk food.

What Happens When We Get It: Woman is on day three of her period, elbow deep in second bowl of brownie batter--because actually cooking brownies is a complete waste of anyone's time--when, during mid-lick from over-sized spoon, woman notices man staring.

Woman: Practically growling. May I help you?
Man: Is that on your diet?
Woman: Femme fatale stare. If you want to keep all of your body parts in tact, I recommend you slowly back out of the kitchen and never mention this moment again.

Women Want: Can't you watch anything else besides sports?

What Happens When We Get It: Man tries to get into the latest episode of Keeping up the Kardashians.

Man: Wait, which sister is this? Damn Kim's ass is huge. What are the younger sisters' names?
Woman: Ugh I just missed what earth-shattering comment Khloé made; now I have to rewind it. Isn't there a game on you can watch in the other room?

Women Want: Don't treat me like other girls--I'm different!

What Happens When We Get It: Man tries something different for Valentine's Day and buys her something useful, like that juicer she's always wanted.

Woman: You didn't get me flowers? Where's the card? That's the most important part. How am I supposed to know how you feel about us without a card?
Man: But ... you said you weren't like other girls.
Woman: Don't try to turn this around. I mean, I'm not like other girls; I'm sexy and unique and funny and unlike anything you've ever had in your whole entire life, but that doesn't mean you can't get me flowers and a card. I mean, everyone knows that's an exception to the rule.

Women Want: Why don't you ever want to cuddle while we're sleeping?

What Happens When We Get It: Our bodies are interwoven and tangled like ivy. All I can hear is the faint whistling sound coming from his nostrils. Jesus, he doesn't have that many muscles; why does his arm feel like it weighs 100 lbs.? That's it, now I'm sweating. I feel claustrophobic. What if there was a fire and he didn't wake up and I'm forever stuck under this gigantic tree stump of a leg and we both die horrible deaths? I have to get out of this wrestler choke hold. Mental note: I will never ask for this again.

Man: Tries to cuddle again the next night.
Woman: Don't touch me.

Ah, the woman: such a complicated combination of contradictions. But hey, ya gotta love us!

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