Today is the final day of Penis Week. I will be returning tomorrow with quite a long post. Be prepared. I hope you enjoyed my all male review. I know I did.
Last, but certainly not least, we have Steve. He's irritating, funny, and far too busy to post regularly...jerk. He writes some pretty amazing stories about his family and if you have a chance, you should definitely check him out. Read on.
The Women In My Life
Good day, you filthy bastards! Or wait… Am I the only filthy bastard here? Really? Damnit. In any case, this is HardlyHearsHimself, also known, as Steve “Is he serious?” Brown (not really, I just made that up. I hope it catches on though) from Conversation With Myself reporting derisively in place of OtherWorldlyOne. It’s been a long and surprisingly arduous weekend folks, mostly because I was out drinking copiously and gallivanting about this horrid city in place of writing this post I’ve been so honorably asked for. But the time for rabblerousing is long past, it seems. Or perhaps not, depending on just how it is you react to this mass of text I’m about to cram down your ocular cavities. What the hell was the topic again?
Ah, right, the women in my life.
I never wanted a brother. This seems entirely off topic, I know, but bear with me here, I’m going somewhere relevant with this, I swear. Right, I never wanted a brother. It was a strange disappointment the day my parents brought home my penis bearing younger sibling. You see it was early on in life that I realized I was much fonder of the fairer sex, for no discernable reason really. It’s possible I found them intriguing, at first. Particularly since they were so far out of my stubby reach; I was rather corpulent in my younger years (not to say I’m that old now, regardless of my rampant misanthropy and general loathing of teenagers), so the girls I was so fond of didn’t readily approach me. Instead, as I was left with no other options, I studied them from afar; obsessively so at first, but as I grew older and found not all of these cruel she-devils were repulsed by me, more casually.
Socializing has never been my strong suit, be it with men or women. Inevitably I did of course befriend males over the years, but not until the 8th grade did I ever associate with a girl I could, with sincerity, call a friend. And before I knew it, I had more of these girl friends. As I had suspected from the start, I found them much easier to harmonize with. According to them, it was because of my “understanding nature.” Apparently I listened, where most others waited their turn to speak. I’m not so sure if this applies to me still, at least not in the majority of cases. I was a nicer guy back then, and if you know me now, you’d find this claim preposterous like the rest of my current friends, male and female alike.
So I made girl friends. Which, by the way, is very awkward terminology. The subtle push of a space bar completely altering the meaning: girl friend, girlfriend. I realized it was not so difficult a task, befriending the ladies. At that age, it was a really just a matter of flattery and charm more than anything, which I wasn’t exactly adept at, but to my benefit I had humor on my side. Ah, yes. Humor has always served me best in these situations. Chicks dig funny guys, right? So I made them laugh, and they loved me for it.
Since then, the women I’ve known have come and gone. Friends, girlfriends, and bitches I can’t stand. Whores who broke my heart, girls I’m still secretly in love with, so on and so forth. I’ve often thought about just why it is that I find myself able to connect better with females, but never gotten to the bottom of it. I’ve been told it has something to do with my relationship with my mother, but there is no relationship there to speak of. My mother is a woman I can’t stand, as she epitomizes everything I hate about people in general. So that wouldn’t be a valid explanation.
Regardless of the explanation though, I do love the women I keep close to me quite dearly. If I went through the list of the people I speak to most often, I’m sure at least 75% of it would be comprised of females. And I’d bet at least 50% of that list would be girls I’ve at some point had feelings for. I think that’s just inevitability when it comes to guy-girl relations, be it plutonic or otherwise. Can you really think of a pair of male and female best friends who have never felt something more towards each other? If they claim so, I assure you it is fallacy. One of them is keeping it secret, for reasons I can completely understand, having been that position time and time again.
Right now though, I’d say out of all my female friends there are two I know will play significant roles in my life. The first would be my best and without question closest friend, Mersiha. The story there is a good one for sure. To shorten it, basically, I spent most of high school day dreaming about having sex with her as she sat in front of me in Spanish class. Once we were both in college years later, I’d added her on Facebook and she remembered me as “that guy who slept behind her in Spanish”, yeah, sleeping and dreaming of that magnificent ass of hers. Forward about a year or two, and here we are now, inseparable. There isn’t much to it really; we are just completely and utterly compatible. We think alike, talk alike, and feel alike on most things. More often than not we come to the same conclusions on any topic, and have almost identical everyday habits. When she told me once that at times, her inner monologue would slip into a British accent, I knew then and there that we would be friends forever. Because I do the same shit and how ridiculous a coincidence is that? It was clearly meant to be, and I can’t imagine my life without her.
The other all-important and irreplaceable lady in my life right now is someone I’ve wished for since childhood. I’d never wanted a brother, you see, but I have always wished for a sister. And, to my great fortune, I got one this year. Just this summer, my mother adopted a baby girl, and it was definitely an unbelievably joyous occasion for my family. She was only 2 days old when we got her. Apparently she had been abandoned shortly after birth at an old folks home, and the people there knew my mother and knew that she was looking to adopt, so they called her first, and she jumped at the opportunity.
I have yet to meet her, as she lives in Bangladesh with my mother and younger brother, but I leave in a few weeks to go visit, and I really can’t wait. The prospect of playing older brother to this darling little girl makes me quite giddy. I can’t wait to watch her grow up and be there for her when she needs me for anything at all. I’ve seen too many brothers be intolerable and overbearing/overprotective bastards to their sisters and seen how awful that can turn out, so I can’t wait to be the kind of brother she can always rely on.
Ladies and gentlemen, my baby sister Azra: