Oops, did I just say that?

As I watch the destruction of the independent side of many of my closest amigos, and become witness to the rebirth of a new, boring, and unforgivably feminine version of my long time buddies, I find it increasingly easier to relish in my own solitude. Many of you know of and possibly have been in this scenario before; its Sunday afternoon and you and a few buddies are chilling out watching some football. For some idiotic reason, one of your friends deemed it necessary to not only bring his girlfriend, but to also mercilessly exchange baby talk in full view of everybody else in the room. In case you haven’t experienced such atrocity as this let me tell you, there is nothing worse than having the entire 3rd quarter of the Bears game be drowned in an ocean of indecipherable phrases and syllables. At the peak of one’s testosterone levels for the week, to have the undeniable stench of estrogen flow throughout the room is as anticlimactic an experience as the loss of one’s virginity to a herpes-ridden lady of the night.

Watching my newly mutated friend melt at the feet of this dick-craving beast brings me great sorrow. Even more sickening, however, is the utter waste of time that the people under consideration call “conversation”. One false move though, and a sacrifice of no less than 15 minutes of groveling will be the only remedy for your “misunderstanding”. I don’t see how a man of pride could look upon this situation as favorable to his overall mental health.

I didn’t know the recipe called for seven ounces of brown sugar!

As Dr. Dre might say, life is all about baseball, bitches, and bigscreen TVs. Perhaps he prefers blunts to the game of baseball, but for the sake of this article we’ll stick with the sport. Regardless of word selection, a man stuck with a jealous girlfriend will enjoy none of these pleasures. Don’t get me wrong, I realize that after hours of persuasion and ass kissing the chances of dragging her to a Saturday night ballgame rise to within the 5% range. Keep in mind that this is only if it isn’t an odd day of the month and there is at least a quarter moon in the sky. Also remember, that since she did such a huge favor for you, Mr. Lucky over there has a nice weekend of ballet and chick flicks to look forward to.

All too often I have seen the results of an overzealous girlfriend who pouts when he goes out with his friends, cries when he doesn’t call her for the 52nd time for the day, and perhaps worst of all turns around and does to him exactly what she begs for him not to do. Demanding too much from a partner and not giving enough back seem to go hand in hand in these situations.

Needless to say, the life of an obligated man is exactly as the name states – full of obligations.

“You look fine in that dress honey.

Imagine walking through life with a judge behind you, an Olympic judge…yea that’s it, one of those ultra-anal Olympic diving judges in the cute little floppy hat. In the game of life however they won’t be judging your 2 ½ somersault pike, no no no, this time around its each and every word that comes out of your little mouth that will be analyzed with only the strictest of methods. This metaphoric judge my friends, is your girlfriend.

I have seen such innocent comments as “you look good tonight,” blow up into an all out snap war. Watching as this honest and kind remark evolve into a fight is very disheartening and makes me content as can be to be behind the driver’s wheel and not have a woman’s hand down my pants. Relationships such as these are nothing but a therapist’s gold mine, for if they continue much longer I can’t see one’s mental health being of any quality. Not only are the constant fights a downside, but being forced to watch your mouth for fear of causing another one is just as bad. What kind of connection can two people have when either party has to constantly be on their toes and watch each and every word that comes out of his/her vocal chords?

Although it may be a little late, before I make the entire audience of Rush feel as though I harbor an undying hatred for women, let me make myself clear. I ask you to understand that the female body is my lifeblood, without the beautiful creature that is “woman,” I would be nothing but a lost sheep in a sea of wolves. My existence thus far on this green and blue planet has been so pleasurable mostly because of my relationships with the opposite sex. From kindergarten and the playground equipment, all the way up to high school and the bedroom, my lady acquaintances have been some of the best experiences in my life. Call it sappiness, call it the will to spread my seed – but girls really don’t have cooties and yes, they do rule.

In the end my point remains the same – good relationships are good; bad relationships are bad. Keep yourself in the good ones, and stay out of the bad ones. For a foolproof solution however, stick with the life of a bachelor, we’ve been doing it since the age of cavemen. Oh and by the way, in the spirit of this article’s heading: sex is good too.