The Girlfriend Survival Guide pt. 5 Mind Readers
Heroes and villains seek each other out so they can pair up and match wits. This is the way it has always been. But just like you can’t have kidney stones without too much calcium and not enough magnesium; you can’t become a super hero without a super villain. Superman didn’t get famous for being super nice to his neighbors. The Joker didn’t get famous by being the guy at the office that complained about not having two computer monitors until management gave in, causing a wave of passive aggressive jealousy, although, that is pretty villainous. The point is women have super powers. Or at least they used to. Speech is a super power that men developed. Imagine something unusual like a cat wearing a HAZMAT suit and smoking a pipe. Now tell someone about it. Through a painstakingly long process we have created a series of sounds that you can project to another human being and put that image in their head. It is nothing short of magic. Women on the other hand can actually read minds without the bother of sight and sound… or at least they used to.
Speech took a long time to sort out. Cavemen used to grunt and throw shit at each other hoping to get their point across. This made organizing a game of charades very frustrating so cavemen made due with common sense and situational awareness. If Oog was going to announce to the tribe that he was going to take a shit (this has always been important news for men) he would point at his ass and make a squatting motion while leaving the circle around the fire with a dog eared copy of Neanderthal Monthly tucked under his arm. This technique has worked so well we still do it today.
The constant bat screeching and anguished pig squeal sound of torture that is a woman’s mind needed a broader outlet than gesticulating like a palsied mime. They tried to create sound with their mouths since that was the closest outlet to their brain but all the noise attracted predators so out of sheer necessity they developed the ability to read minds in order to talk about how ugly Oogalina’s sandals were. For a while the forest was quiet and everything was happy. The men gestured to one another and the women glared at each other.
As civilization grew, grunting, throwing shit, and glaring became less efficient. Ugg couldn’t explain to Oog the concept of compounded interest rates on three head of oxen and the consequences of a default with a few guttural howls. For this reason men invented language.
Family reunions became less confusing and, incidentally, more unbearable. Meanwhile, reasons for cavewomen to hate on their BFF’s grew, and with it a need for discretion. The cave man dabbled in the art of mind reading for a bit but quickly tossed it aside in favor of speech. Having your cavewoman know you find her sister attractive is about as practical as letting the guy you are buying an axe from know you think of him as a dirty Cro-Magnon man who mates with wildebeests. People don’t need to know what is on your mind all the time. Even Ghadi or the Pope eventually finds themselves thinking, “fuck, this dude is an asshole,”
Women eventually adopted the speech method for exactly this reason, about four hundred years after men figured it out.
Mind reading began to slowly die out as men invented more words to describe the condition of living. Meanwhile women were developing a counter system wherein they would say things without saying them.
For instance, “Oh my God Becky, I love your phone” actually means, “I know you texted my man last week you trifling hoe. I got your number bitch.”
Time marched on and reading minds fell from disuse to history like phonographs and belted sanitary napkins. Eventually no one remembered how to read minds but no woman was ever going to admit it because her friends would mind talk shit about her so they all pretended they could still do it. This pretending forced women to become experts at reading facial ques so they could guess what the other girls were thinking. That is why it is best to not make eye contact when answering the question, “Where have you been.”
Now every time the Ancient Order of the Ovaries meets in Switzerland on odd numbered years they all ask how the mind reading is going and they all stare at the floor and mumble that it is going great.
So here is the problem. Women still think mind reading is a thing, but they are unwilling to admit they can’t do it anymore.
You know that fight you have when she catches you drinking out of the milk carton even though you bought it and there are only two of you in the house and you share bodily fluids anyway, plus, that bitch doesn’t even drink milk. That is her picking pointless battles to establish dominance (but we’ll get to that later). Well the crazy red faced glare right before that fight is one fourth her projecting facial cues and three fourths her trying to send a sonic blast of bitching through the air using her mind. Unfortunately for her that mental spigot got turned off a long time ago causing all that rage to swirl around trapped in her head like a pressure cooker.
Men can usually spot instances like this and deal with them because that’s not the first time it has happened (This is men knowing situational awareness). In fact most men grew up watching their parents have that fight. The doozeys are when you walk in the door from work only to find your girlfriend sitting quietly on the couch in the dark looking like a Buddhist monk save for the periodic twitching and the electricity humming in the air as she sends waves of cosmic angst out into the universe. Somewhere in San Francisco a hippie can feel the disturbance. You are at ground zero and even though you don’t know what’s going on you know some shit is about to go down.
Foolish men will probably do something stupid like ask her what’s wrong. Nope! Remember, she thinks you can read her mind. You were in trouble before but now you get to add playing dumb and stonewalling to your list of crimes. This is about the time you hear the dreaded, “You know what’s wrong.”
Your first instinct will be to run, and that would be the correct response, except all your shit is there and you don’t have enough money for the deposit on a new apartment. When there is blood on the water and you can’t get to dry land the best thing to do is stop the bleeding before you get eaten by a great white.
Women might make a lot of noise about a lot of things but the list of things they are actually mad about is pretty short. You never ask a woman what is wrong because you have a list of four possibilities of what it is, none of which she is going to tell you, and none of which is the thing you are getting yelled at for. There is no point in trying to troubleshoot through all the shit your girl has to complain about. The problem isn’t whatever comes out of her mouth. The problem is she is angry.
Think of women’s problems like a pop-up porn computer virus. Ads for a thousand penis enhancement pills or embarrassingly specific fetish sites based on your browsing history will just keep popping up. You can close them out but every time they’ll just keep coming until you clean the system. You can address every issue she has but you are just x-ing out windows at that point. It will never end until you root out the virus.
Here is what you are catching shit for.
- She is fat
- She realized her dreams didn’t come true and she’ll never be a princess.
- Her friends have better stuff than her.
- She is on her period.
That’s it. Notice none of that shit has anything to do with you. But guess what? It is your problem now.
When you walk in the house and your girl is sending out those brain waves don’t bother asking what’s wrong. You don’t have to read her mind because she doesn’t even know what the fuck is going on in there but you do. Also, don’t listen to her specific complaints. Unless you cheated on her the issues are just a smokescreen. She will hand you a box labeled “You left the towels on the floor” but if you open the box it is really “I don’t look like I did in high school and yelling at you is easier than taking responsibility for my sedentary lifestyle.”
So you get the silent glare. What do you do?
The long term solution is make her go to the gym, go back to school, find new friends, and get a hysterectomy but you don’t have that kind of time and if you really wanted to have that kind of responsibility for another human being you’d go adopt a little Kenyan kid from Angelina Jolie.
So your evening is being held hostage by an emotional terrorist. Men like peace and quiet and fixing things. You can’t fix that she hates herself but you can get your peace and quiet back through a little trick called misdirection.
Magicians will wave one hand in front of a half naked assistant so you pay attention to her while they palm a coin in the other hand and pretend to pull it out of thin air. Solving the problem is out. You just want to distract her until the storm passes.
For minor outbreaks of ennui the best thing you can do is fuck her silly. She’ll probably put up a fight but that is ok and to be expected. Despite what you learned in school no doesn’t always mean no. IN order for this to work you need to establish a safe word with your woman. A safe word is a hard “NO” that means stop right now or I’ll see you in court. I’ll give you a safe word; lampshade. When you hear that word you know to stop. Now she is free to complain about not wanting the sexy time while actually wanting it and saying no because women are crazy. When you walk into a room and you are met with mind hate filling the room just run over and ravish her before she can start making shit up to bitch about. Biting is OK, kissing is not. It’s not that kind of a party.
At the most basic level this works because who can be mad while having sex? On a deeper level she will be happy because she feels desired. That makes her think maybe she isn’t gaining weight after all despite her growing collection of pants “I need to lose a few pounds to fit into”. She will mistake your passion for love and she can pretend you are the prince charming cartoons lied to her about.
Now she might be on her period and you don’t surf in red tides. At this point put your dick back in your pants.
Centuries ago the Ancient Order of the Testicles created a powerful potion to quiet the cries of even the most anguished banshee. They infiltrated the Ancient Order of the Ovaries dressed as women and presented it as a tincture for most female ailments. That of course, was chocolate ice cream. Just toss a tub into the living room like a soldier in the great war and hide until you hear the sound of spoon scraping on cardboard (This is especially potent against hormonal issues).
If all else fails you can turn on some reality television. Most women haven’t figured out yet that all those shows are completely scripted and it makes them feel better about themselves to see someone whose life is a complete train wreck. That is why we invented them, although we are starting to have second thoughts about it.