I’m getting kind of tired of girls putting in their away messages, AIM profiles, Facebooks, MySpaces, etc. that “I have the best friends ever!” Is anyone else getting sick of this? I see it all the time and I’ve had it.

It’s all you see now with girls. “I love my friends!” and “Apartment 412 girls are my sweethearts!” Yuck. Lame. Enough is enough. First off, don’t give me that horseshit that you have the best friends ever, because how do you know? Everyone likes their friends (hopefully), but how can you compare them? Surely there are friends who have jumped in the way of a bullet for their friends. Or saved them from porking a fat chick after seventeen Pabsts. Or bought Madden 2006 and told them they could play whenever they wished.

I bet Johnny Damon’s got some cool friends. Or Ben Stiller. President Bush has some great friends. They even rigged an election for him. Did Katie and Tanya do that for you, huh? No they didn’t, you stupid bitch.

And furthermore, maybe I’m wrong, but since when do girls like each other? I’ve seen groups of girlfriends and how they go about their day. They loathe and detest each other. Oh sure, around the boxed wine and Season 4 DVD of Sex and the City they all act friendly. But what is every girl’s favorite pastime? That’s right, bitching about other girls. Here’s an experiment. Go up to any of your female friends and ask them about another female friend. Ask them about Sarah or Laura or Tammy or Miranda and I guarantee you get a dirty look followed by some smut talking.

Girls hate each other. Absolutely hate each other. Oh sure, they can tolerate each other as long as they keep their mouths shut long enough for you to whine on incessantly about your ex, who was a douchebag anyway. But as soon as you shut off the water works, you go right back to your respective sides on enemy lines.

See, the truth is, female friends are useless. Absolutely, unrelentingly useless. Now some of my female friends are probably reading this and going: “Oh, he’s just being funny for his column.”

No, he’s not.

For guys, all female friends represent is sex that lost its way. It’s nice to have a couple of girls around to talk with or see a movie with, but let’s be honest, as soon as sex rears it’s sexy head, you wave bye-bye and hop aboard the coitus train, headed south. Seriously, if you ask any guy if he could remove ten people from his life, at least seven would be female friends that a) he’s not attracted to, or b) annoy the shit out of him. Because let’s face it, girls are just not ready for society. At least not yet. Some are. Most aren’t. Can you talk to a girl for ten minutes without wanting to put your Ike wig on? I can’t. Sure, if I’m interested in a girl, I’ll play coy while she babbles on incessantly about crap I could care less about. But if I’m not interested…holy shit. It’s like the Russian roulette scene in Deer Hunter but stretched out over a lifetime.

But, this whole BFF crap, I mean, can we stop this? Every time I read this in an away message, I just want to drive over to her house with a wrench and ask “Why?” and when I get an inadequate answer (which I undoubtedly will), I put her down like Old Yeller.

Now I realized I’ve pissed off the ladies with this column, but if I’m wrong, tell me why do most girls prefer the company of guys? Why don’t girls have girl’s nights as often as guys have guy’s nights? And as much as you claim to love your friends, I bet you can snap at them in a moment’s notice. And I bet the fight precipitated from something completely inconsequential, like she broke your plate and you start ranting about her stealing your man, with the plate acting as onomatopoeia (literary devices be damned).

So listen up girls, I’m here to tell you, your little circle of friends are not the best friends a girl can have. I have some good friends, but I wouldn’t be so bold as to say they’re the best friends ever. If Dave Attell, LaDainian Tomlinson, and Sarah Silverman suddenly showed up at my door, I’d drop my current friends like Snoop holding something hot. And they would, too. And I would understand.

Unless of course, one of those fuckers stole my man, then I’d beat them with boxed wine.