Everyone’s a chauvinist

OK, I’ll admit it. I’m shallow and so are you.

When I look at women the first thing I think is either she’s hot or she’s not. Yes, I’m judging, and this is generally resolved within the first minute of meeting someone. If you’re not hot I don’t really want to talk to you or even look at you. It makes me feel awful to have to deal with ugly women. Normally all they have going for them is a personality.

Why can’t every girl be blonde, stacked and/or have a nice butt?
Some people say “beauty is more than skin deep.” Those people are more than likely
also ugly. Let’s face it, this is the truth and I know this from personal experience.

If God didn’t provide you with the right measurements, please use modern medicine to fix that for you.

I used to be an ingloriously fat bastard — 250 pounds of sweaty, blubbery, butter-fat. I was no ladies’ man.

I’m not a scientist, but there was probably a correlation between my supreme vomit inducing lard and my ability to put notches in my bedpost.

Nothing is worse than trying to have a conversation with a fat person and having to fight back your lunch because they might just eat it if it came back up.

I know back in the day it was a struggle to resist the urge to scoop up a perfectly good pre-chewed McDonalds Big Mac.

But eventually I realized that being fat was not only unhealthy, but impeding my chances of having sex with hot chicks. So I had surgery to make me more mobile and then hit the gym.

Ever hear about the Freshman 15? I had the Freshman -40 in the first semester alone. One year and a hundred less pounds later, women actually started to approach me. No longer were women repulsed by my rolls.It was about this time when I realized the chauvinist nature of humans, including both men and women.

I wasn’t sure if I should be proud or angry.

Proud that I lost so much weight or angry that the only reason I never got more than a passing glance was because of something as vain as looks.

As time went on it bothered me less and less because I was happy. Eye contact is a helluva drug. Moreover, my once ugly inspired personality dithered away, leaving me with what you read now.
 
I don’t need a personality anymore, I just need to stand there and look hot because everyone is a chauvinist.

­— nicjacob@indiana.edu