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When did 'personality' become a disease?

So, me 'n some other dudes were in a crowded restaurant talking about what we'd do if we had all the money we'd ever need.

Just then, three girls asked to sit at our table until they could find their own. We said sure, have a seat, and then asked our question. As soon as the question left my mouth and went into Blondie's (the prettiest of the girls) ear, her eyes got wide with excitement.

"How much money do I have? "

"Enough to do whatever you want. "

"Like, how much? "

"To the point where money is no longer an object. "

"So, like, billions? "

*At this point I thought about breaking a plate over her face, but plates are expensive, so I held back.

"Sure, you have billions. "

"Well I'd buy, like, a million houses, and a car, and I'd buy a hot guy, and -"

"Whoa, " I stopped her. "You'd buy a hot guy. As in, you'd buy a slave? "

"Whatever, I'd be rich, she replied cuntishly.

"Oh, ok. "

She basically said, "I'd buy everything, like, ever. Also, there'd be slaves. " in that stereotypical ditzy blonde type voice. It made me gag a little bit.

People, she'd buy like a million houses. That way, over the course of her life she could visit several hundred of her houses a day. She'd spend a few minutes at each house, then move on to the next all while her hot guy slave followed her around. This life of constant travel and slave ownership sounds AWESOME.

I'm generally bothered whenever I realize that a person fits a stereotype. Within seconds, The Housemonger described above dashed any possibility of shocking me with any of that, um... What do you call it when you think of stuff on your own? Oh yes, original thought. I'm sure it's completely within the realm of possibility to have both blonde hair and boobs and be able to think for yourself, but Housemonger and her buddies Genericface and Thyroid Problem must not have time to do that between following others and putting out to strangers.

The bigger problem is that this isn't, by any means, an isolated incident. Nowadays, I can't talk to a girl for 30 seconds without actually contemplating the legal consequences of strangling her to death. Where are all the cool chicks? You know, the ones that are good for more than just motorboating? The ones that have more to talk about than what brand of shampoo they use or the latest Hollywood whore to get a DUI, or their boring ass cat who isn't_that_fucking_cute as to warrant a 20 minute conversation that entails telling me how many whiskers he has. I could not give less of a shit. Maybe that shit will fly with all the bumbling morons who are only in it for the tits and are just nodding their head until your pants come off but, come on ladies, some of us expect a little effort; and some of us are actually worth it. If I'm talking to you, chances are that I want to get to know YOU. So try having a few things to talk about that I wouldn't rather attempt to tie my penis into a balloon animal than listen to. You'll also start to attract much higher quality guys.

Rating:5.00

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