The Day I Shot Cupid (6 page)

Here’s an example: Have you ever seen a woman who’s kinda big? She’s got big boobs, a big butt, and thick legs. She wears heels and pants a little too tight. I know girls look at her and say, “WHO does she think SHE is with all that extra luggage? She better put THAT away.”
Well, ladies, let me tell you, men look at her and say, “Woooo! I wanna tackle that lion. I wanna tame that beast!” You know you’ve seen women like this, and you might be one. Those women should be adored because they are confident in their size, and men love confidence.
Me again! I have to say this whole thing is shocking and great. I might actually be able to feel good about myself in a pair of skinny jeans eating a pint of ice cream. God bless you, Jamie Kennedy.
If you own who you are, then men will wanna own it with you. Enjoy yourself, and men will enjoy you also.

Which leads me to another thought—women can be so hard on other women. You’re a sisterhood. Have each other’s backs.
Sorry to keep butting in—no pun intended—but you’re right, we are a sisterhood, except some girls didn’t get the memo and are mean, which makes us defensive and judgmental. But hey, I’m so happy about the big butt thing, I’ll look at being nicer to other girls.
It’s true. Women judge each other so hard. They’ll look a woman up and
down and say, “Look at her, she got her lips done, she got her cheeks done, she got her nose done. Hell! That’s not even her real head!”

I personally think women get boob implants to compete with other women, and men get hair transplants to compete with other men. It’s not for the opposite sex. I mean, we’ll take fake boobs if you’ve got them, but we’d rather take what God gave you, small or big. As long as you’re cool with it, we’re cool with it, and if you want a little procedure because it will make you feel better about yourself, go for it. Grab that scalpel. We all do a little nip and tuck now and then (God knows these aren’t my real pecs). But it saddens me to see women be so hard on themselves about the body they think they have, as opposed to the body that men are dying to get all over. We love your big hips, your big butt (more to spoon with), your big boobs (more to keep us warm), and your little tummy pooch, that’s where we wanna crawl in and live. We know it’s safe there.
JLH…See, girls, there are good ones out there!
Just my two cents.

T
he bathroom. The friend that knows all
your secrets, maybe too many. The sacred place where we get ready for the world. The magic passageway that we step through for a big date. We go in a potential hottie and come out a showstopper. It’s where a guy goes from a boy to a man, with cologne and a crisp white button-down. It’s more than a bathroom, it’s your sanctuary. And then someone invented his and her sinks. What were they thinking? Hello reality, good-bye mystery. I’m all for domesticity and sharing space, but not
that space
. I didn’t always feel this way. I thought it would be the ultimate in
romance, until I realized it’s not just
men
who need a little mystery.

Let’s be honest, it’s not hot to see a man clip his nose hairs, rub his butt, clean out his ears, or worse, discover he doesn’t do any of those things! And men definitely don’t want to see us shave our underarms, pluck our eyebrows, lather on anticellulite cream, Nair our nifty mustache, and struggle with figure-smoothing shorts (
P.S., I love those shorts
!). We want to picture our guy in a hot shower with water dripping from his biceps, his white teeth sparkling in the mirror (like Edward from
Twilight
), barely containing his excitement to see us. Now, that is hot! And guys want to picture us in tiny black lace panties, high heels, with our hair half up, half down, and a little in our face, dancing to “Let’s Get It On,” putting perfume in all the right places and slipping slowly into our little black dress à la Audrey Hepburn. So I say sharing some things is good, just not everything. Let mystery be your secret weapon
of romance. Let him have his fantasy of you and you in return cherish your alone time in the magic chamber that is the bathroom. Trust me, no man will be offended by these separate quarters. In fact, you might even be the woman of his dreams.

H
ave you ever had words fly out of
your mouth like a bad meal? I suffer from this on a daily basis. I need someone to invent a mouth zipper. SPEAKING OF ZIPPERS, don’t you just despise the men and women with no moral values or self-control and with downright slutty behavior who can’t keep their zippers closed—oops, see what I’m talking about…no self-control! SPEAKING OF CONTROL, don’t you wish you could turn your back for five seconds without some pea-brain bimbo trying to make the love of your life an afternoon snack—oops…I did it again! Inventors, please listen to my plea: MOUTH ZIPPER. While I’m on this sub
ject, here is a novel idea. Let people be in love. If you see two people happy, keep your mitts to yourself.

Just know these destroyers of happiness will never penetrate the inner lining of the heart we occupy. I’ll tell you why these people are out there; it’s to show us who we can trust. There will always be sluts and man-whores, but there will also be good women and even better men who won’t stray from their hearts’ desire because something new has been added to the menu. It is our job to send those lost yet slutty souls our light and sympathy, because at the end of the day it must be so sad to love yourself so little that you’d be willing to become the joke, the cocktail-hour topic, or, worst of all, the reason someone else will find it difficult to love and trust again. Guess I couldn’t zip it on that one.

T
his, ladies, is a tricky one. The “we” is not
just a game. Like, for instance, when we help move our men from “I” to “we.”

I don’t believe for a minute that this is a mantactic, a reason not to commit. I think it’s complete unawareness of the joint relationship effort. They are used to traveling alone, whereas women tend to travel in groups. For instance
we
, from the time we are little, go to the bathroom together.
They
go it alone.
They
take their computers and go to Starbucks.
We
go with the girls for drinks.
They
go backpacking in Europe.
We
go for all-girls spa weekends.
They
like to play alone (you know what I mean).
We
prefer not to play alone (you also know what I mean). We can’t be hard on men about this one. We have to help them. When they say “I,” help them say “we.” If you and your guy are with other people and he says, “
I
ate at the best restaurant last night,” just simply follow it up with “Yeah,
we
had the best food!” It will eventually change his thinking.

And men, relax, just because we want you to include us in the moment with the powerful “we” doesn’t mean marriage. Women don’t think “we” is the house, the dog, the joint bank
account, the wedding, the babies, and the end (well, maybe some do, but we don’t claim those girls). For women, it’s just a small, considerate step toward really respecting us. It’s including us in your life and showing no fear in sharing your existence. It’s important for both sexes to keep their identities, but it’s also sometimes important to share. We were all taught that in, what, first grade, I think. Just try to be more aware, guys, and help them out, ladies. Trust me, “we” will all be happier.