February the 14th is a date that strikes fear and anticipation in many people’s hearts. Guys are worried about juggling their wifey’s, jump-offs and random fuck-buds, while the girls are busy thinking about whether they’re gonna have a date with an actual walking talking dude or a SKY+ remote. Date or no date, Trapstar and Styleslut have teamed up to bring you invaluable tips to make sure your Valentine’s is AWESOME. Welcome to ‘Broken Hearts & Hymens’ Week.
Why I'm giving up on women, forever (aka FUCK VALENTINES YA’LL)
I love women. They’re amazing. I mean, my mother gave birth to me - how could I hate her for that? But for some reason, every woman I've come into contact with has eventually turned out to be a harmful and toxic work of disfigured art. I wouldn't be surprised if hell was just a giant pulsating pussy with a clitoris that goes by the name of Lucifer.
Women tell you what you should look like. I think my jeans look fine, why should I wash them? You think I need a haircut, well I think you need a crotch-cut - how about that! You're not my mum and I wasn't in your womb for nine months, so unless you made that sacrifice, don't comment on what I wear. That line from the Rage Against The Machine song wasn't an 'anti-war' tirade, dude was just pissed that his chick asked him to trim his dreads.
Women don't like it when you look at other women. My penis is a machine that makes babies. Whenever I see something which can assist me in the baby-making process, it becomes rigid. This is because my brain is telling me the world needs more babies. And who controls my brain? GOD. Don't argue with him, otherwise you'll be burning eternally in that big red pussy I talked about earlier.
Women think I should meet their friends and be sociable. Despite all your foibles, I like hanging with you. When you're not moaning, we actually have fun. But add your friends to the equation and shit just get complicated. They start asking me questions about my job and how many siblings I have and what I'm doing over summer. If I wanted to have such shitty conversations with women I' would have joined one of those internet dating sites. At least then a blow-job from ‘Sexxxual Bunny23’ might be part of the ‘dull small-talk’ trade-off.
Women aren't guys. ''Guess what happened while I was driving home from work, baby? I made eye contact with a smoking-hot Cougar at the lights. She rolled down her window and invited me back to her place. Her libido was INSANE. We ended up…' Oh, hold up - I can't really have that convo with you, can I? You'll judge me and think I'm a sleaze. And you'll probably end up dumping me, too. BO-R-ING.
Women like going to amusement parks. I hate rollercoasters. They make me feel like I'm on one of those training courses that teach astronauts how to deal with turbulent conditions in space. And what's up with those life-sized fluffy animals? The only types of guys who enjoy going to places like this are guys who pretend to like them so they can fuck the girls who do.
Words: Donald Crunk
Simultaneously posted on the Trapstar Blog
