The Literary Review is dedicated to exposing the worst things about combinations of words. I don’t know the percentage of people in the world that can read and write, but I do know that 98% of those people are verifiably stupid and that 99% of those verified absolutely have to bring their stupidity to the public light. Having said that, I don’t mean to insult the writer, but the words they have written. So, if you’re a writer and you see this and think, “Hey, that’s not fair,” don’t blame me. It was you who wrote the dumb shit in the first place.
I used to be an idiot. I still am sometimes. For example, my greatest contribution to yesterday was the thought “Instead of animal crackers, they should make animal croutons! You know, for salads.” That’s the kind of thinking that, in the mid 1900’s, would have led my parents to hiding me under a porch at six, and only letting me out when Atticus Finch allowed his kids to come over and play.
But I used to be far worse. For example, here is a part of a Facebook note I wrote, spelling and grammar left intact for posterity and humorous effect.
“im scared. i dont want to end up alone. i dont want to be alone. is this the course im gonna be on for my life? will it get better? i hope so
maybe its jealousy, maybe im over reacting, but when i see all these people in happy relationships, i cant help it,
ive fallen in love before, not many times, but enough to know what its like to be rejected by someone you thought the world of,
in the movies, the nerdy sweet guy always gets the girl from the jock mean guy, but it doesnt work out that way at all,
you try but shes still with that guy, still drawn to him like a moth to a light,
i hate you. honestly i really do, all of you girls who are too damn stupid, and so caught up with what people want from you, and not with what people want to give to you, we might say its ok, but inside we hate you
this note is written for all the guys who live like me in world, scared, almost hopeless, happy but hopeless, all the me’s out there. “
I’m going to give you the chance to laugh at how utterly moronic this sounds. They say that every human has some sort of worth, but the only worth I can gather from this time in my life was boosting the floundering hand lotion and Kleenex economies. “all the me’s out there.” How poetic, younger Daniel. If you weren’t winning over women in real life, surely phrases like “jock mean guy,” “scared, almost hopeless” and “when i see all these people in happy relationships, i cant help it,” when strung together poorly on a social networking site, would have you swimming in sex and admiration. If my computer had broken down after I wrote this note, tech support would have simply called me a loser. If someone had confronted me about this at the time, I probably wouldn’t have been able to handle it and evaporated into a rain cloud of my own tears. Okay, enough me. Time for you.
I believe modern romance was invented when a caveman first decided “She doesn’t seem to be enjoying my rape/rape again method. I’ll ferment grape juice and try again later.” Since then, one of man’s primary pre-occupations has been wooing women for the purpose of relationships and sex. Books have been written on the subject, advice columns ran and movies made, and still, one of man’s greatest strategies for attracting a woman has been self-sabotage. That piece of writing you read above? I don’t know where I found it, but I must have read something somewhere that said “Want her to get hot in the pants? Whine.”
This is what this review is about. A manifesto of the aforementioned self-sabotage, that is about as successful as a costume of hornets when it comes to making someone fall for you.
Starting off by calling them “females,” while the correct term, is fairly creepy. When opening like this, I wouldn’t be surprised if the next lines were “Take a look at your surroundings. There is only enough air in the terrarium for thirty minutes. You must escape. Quickly, I’M RELEASING THE ANTS!”
“I’m fedup. Done. Finished.”
I’m glad that you’ve turned “fed up” into one word. That makes it easier to read and surely left you more time to practice counting into the double digits.
“I always hear stories about girls not being able to trust guys because they cheated, or treated them bad, or hit them.”
“Hit them”? Is that information broadcast in social, public places where one would go to meet girls? I think you’re first problem is that you seem to have mistaken “bar” or “event” for “Local News Website List Of Recent Arrests.”
“I always hear stories of girls saying they just don’t want to be with guys because of past relationships.”
Who in the fuck do you hang out with, guy? Have you met a girl before? Or are all your “female” acquaintances too busy cowering and sobbing after you waved at them for you to start a conversation?”
“Say that you’re waiting for a good guy etc.”
I honestly don’t know who you interact with on a daily basis. Your friend group seems to be made up of men who don’t exist, and women who can’t stand the thought of going a day without being threatened with a top-of-the-stairs push. Usually all single women are waiting for a good guy. I’d be hard pressed to find one who says “I can’t wait to date someone who sucks completely” or “I’m going to Target to buy blush in advance for when the bruises swell up.”
“But why the fuck when you get a good GREAT guy you ignore him.”
Aww. Your sentence structure is very cute. It would make more sense if you had just typed “why fuck no WOMEN fart!” Does typing “GREAT” in there give you a sense of pride, you little pouting demon? Does saying that you’re a good guy help you justify your improvisational use of a Gundam action figure as a dildo?
“Call him your best friend or some shit like that and when he falls for you, you give him some bullshit how you’re not ready for a relationship….then two hours later you’re fucking some asshole who clearly didn’t give a fuck about you before.”
Once again, you put sentences together correctly in the way that I try on dresses. Not at all, with little to no effort. And “two hours” seems extremely specific and extremely unreliable as a space of time. I severely doubt that any woman would say “You know that weird, internet guy who constantly asks me to follow his Tumblr and talks to me when I’m drunk? Yeah, I had to tell him that we could only be friends and that I wasn’t really looking for something serious…” and then, exactly 120 minutes later “He never even talked to me before! Did I tell you how big it was? Look at all these great decisions I’m making!”
“Dear females….you constantly wonder where the good guys are.”
If a girl wanted to find, simply, a “good guy” rather than wanting to find someone who’s right for them, or can satisfy them and make them happy, all they have to do is throw a rock. You’re very mistaken when you think of yourself as a “good guy.” You’re selfish, dangerously aloof, un-skilled socially and you have the syntax of a dead person.
“They’re out there….I’m just letting you know that you’re the ones making us scarce”
There’s no justice in the world if women aren’t lining up to first, thank you and secondly, offer you exclusive mouth-to-crotch service. I’m so glad you offer us such valuable information such as things that aren’t true in the slightest. As if “good guys” are ever going to change. No. She’s going to date someone else and you’re going to get bitter. She’ll wonder what’s wrong. You’ll push her away because you’ve seen it in a movie or think it’s dramatic and relate unreal things to your stupid, stupid circumstances. And then she’ll give up on you, because that’s what a functioning, regular human being does. You’ll meet someone else, and due to your lack of attractive qualities, she’ll make you her friend but nothing more, but you’ll be so excited that someone shows the least bit of interest in you, that you’ll latch on to her, because “she’s so cool and maybe she’s different.” And so it repeats. That was serious. I’m sorry. Here’s something funny to make up for it: Drunk James Brown.
“Sincerly Good Guy…or rather New Found Asshole”
Man, you sure showed them. Especially with “Sincerly.” That’s the way I’d spell something if I was trying to tell a second grader the ways I would fail them on the “How To Write A Letter” assignment. And “New Found Asshole.” You can use that as the name of your indie band, before it dissolves because I assume, with the way that you suck at all of the above, you suck at music too.