So, three fat women walk into a government office in Beirut; did that sound like the front end of a bad joke? Let me try again.
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So, three fat women walk into a government office in Beirut; did that sound like the front end of a bad joke? Let me try again.
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Every woman in the country understands that a green license plate means you could never afford this car; we’re smart like that. So smart in fact that we can tell the size of your penis from said car.
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Ask me anytime, and I’ll argue the merits of bachelorhood with the eloquence of Arabian philosophers and the conviction of pack-mules; any time, except around Valentine’s.
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Saturday night isn’t about consuming as much alcohol as possible before passing out. Preposterous I thought, but the magazine made me follow a social princess around for a day and find out.
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Peahens – like women – are fantastically confused creatures, and as a result have driven their male counterparts to the brink of madness.
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All the crying has made that part a bit fuzzy, what is crystal clear though is picking up the 5 kilogram, metal-cast xylophone I was playing with and smashing it on his skull. Turns out he didn’t like surprises either.
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Rappers are philosophers, and while we’ve been mining into Confucius and Plato, these young G’s have had the answers to life, the universe and women all along.
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Somewhere in the mess of neurological pathways I call Karl (when I’m referring to myself in the psychotic third-person) I’ve managed to equate affection with violence; in other words, if I enjoy someone’s company, I hurt them.
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He stops and sniffs his drink. Their eyes lock for half a minute – but men are ill-equipped for these games.
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They stared at each other for a long time, him through the mask and her through a wispy cloud of existential angst. Whatever magic they shared was absolutely lost on me.
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What follows is an accurate transcription, with some clarifying side-notes of the notebook I lived in prior to my summer lit examinations. ’twas a stormy summer night…
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Somewhere in the 19th century, a New Zealander drove the final nail into the patriarchal hierarchy coffin and gave women the right to vote. This is now widely regarded as a very bad move, and women have since plotted to enslave us.
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Anything of beauty can be dramatically improved upon with the addition of a woman. Snowboard? Beautiful. Women on snowboards? Sex! Well, for the most part.
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The pub was crowded and loud, and there was chocolate involved. I know this because cake was rammed into my mouth before I sat down.
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