>>> The Lady's Shave
By staff writer NG Hatfield
April 24, 2006

(This article, originally posted in my blog, is modeled after Justin Rebello’s fine piece of comedic work entitled “The Mind of a Single Guy.”)

Preface

Much to the relief of my female readers, my friends, and my wallet, I do not have a girlfriend. So, the following is an attempt at portraying the psyche of a guy who is dead bolted into one.

Now, as much as I’d like to make this a satirical piece—showing every girlfriend-possessing man as a Hallmark-card-buying pile of rotten vaginal discharge—that’s just not anywhere near realistic. I’ve had girlfriends. Many of my heroes have even fucked up at a time or two and thought a relationship was a good idea. Hemingway being the glaring example. And besides, it leaves a good amount of jokes for “The Mind of Married Guy.” So if you would please take a few moments to remember the last time you were in a relationship simply for the sex (some of you might not have to “remember” at all…she might be sitting right next to you). Also, you might need to imagine yourself as a schizophrenic during the duration of this relationship…as I’ll be sticking to Rebello’s mind vs. body Gnostic-Bible-like bullshit.

Keeping that all in mind, let’s go.

Oh yeah, wait. Before we dive in, I thought I’d start a new shtick for my columns…since the whole Haiku thing fizzled out fast. So, before we get into things, I present:

Nick’s Quasi-Applicable 80’s Song Lyrics

This Week’s Installment:
“Lovin’ Every Minute,” Loverboy

I’m not a man
or machine
I’m just something
in between
(whoa, oh…whoa whoa)

Next week: Who knows?!

I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did. Now let’s jump in, shall we?

The Mind of a Dating Guy

“You’re brilliant Brain, but you’re moodier than Jessica.
Is that her name?
I think…
No you don’t, that’s my job twatface.

Ahhhh! What a night!

God she’s still here

…and there’s makeup on my pillow.

and I slept in the wet spot.
Hahahaha! Time to wash your sheets, bitch.
Hey Brain, what are you doing up so early?
I was writing your dreams.
Writing my dreams? I thought that was like…a screensaver thing for you.
Nope, I’m always up. I fuck with you when you’re sleeping. It’s the only fun I get.
Well that explains the dropping the soap in the jail shower dream.
Yep, that was all me.
How about a little less Oz and a little more Beverly Hills Bordello?
You’ve got a girlfriend now. I can’t allow that.
Well, in spite of your fixation with my celibacy, I banged her last night.
What do you mean “you?” Don’t you remember that sex book I made you read?
Dude! You fucked my girlfriend?
Yeah, and she liked it.
I’m going to fucking kill you.
It’s going to hurt you more than it’s going to hurt me.
Au contraire!
Don’t talk French.
You’re right, French is for gays.
Get a shower, alright?
Fine, but I’m going to wake her up and bang her with my eyes closed first.


…I still feel it. Oh yeah that’s nice.
Shut up, I’m not going to cum.
Oh yeah, that’s really fucking nice.
Shut the fuck up and show me pictures of Elisha Cuthbert.
What are you going to do if I don’t?
You know that bottle of Everclear I keep in the freezer?
Yeah.
It’s full.
Fuck you, I’ll do it. But you know that’s immoral.
Yes!
Haha, you came in 3 seconds.
That was the plan.
God, you know nothing about women.
You don’t know what you’re talking about, Brain.
Yes, yes I do.
Well then how do you make girls orgasm?

Yeah, that’s what I thought.
You don’t know either.
So? You’ve got the inferiority complex, not me.
Get in the fucking shower, I need a smoke.


God I’m sexy, look at that, I could bang any girl I wanted to. I don’t need no girlfriend.
Yeah…you’re definitely an attractive man.
You can’t agree with me.
Why the fuck not?
Because then I’ll start jacking off in front of mirrors, and that’s fucked up.
Fine, well grab some Brain food and let’s go to class.
Brain food? You mean like tuna fish? Or are you making some sort of clever joke?
Yeah, fish.
Fish? Well to be honest brain, I think she went back to sleep.
Oh Nick, leave the wit to me.
Fine, I’ll let you take over while I walk to class, asshole.


I want to know what love is…
Are you singing?
No…
Yes you are! You’re singing that Foreigner song.
Well that was sweet when you guys danced to it last night.
Sweet?…It got me laid.
Is that all you care about?
Yes?
God. I hope one day you come down with a raging case of herpes.
Don’t you remember? I already had a raging case of herpes.
Oh yeah, I remember…Samantha, right?
Wait, was it herpes?
Is herpes treatable?
I don’t know.
Let’s not think about this.
Yeah…
Yeah…
Why would you want that to happen to me, Brain?
Because then you could spend more time with me and your buddies.
I would, but you both don’t have titties. And really I'd just spend more time jacking off and summarily applying herpes cream.
Yeah, true.

Ahh class, my favorite. Don’t you love it in here Brain?
Yes, I really do. Nothing like a good read.
Yeah…there’s lots of hot girls in here.
What?
I’d do her, her, her, her, her, and I’d do her in the ass because you know she’s been around, and that’s one nice ass.
Stop pointing.
I’m pointing?
Yes, you fucking moron.
Well who can blame me?
Your girlfriend.
If you tell her, I’ll poke you with a Q-tip.
I won’t tell her, I’ll just give you shit.
Why are you like that?
Years of reinforced guilt through Catholic schooling… you remember.
Yeah, man, I miss school…those hot skirts and shit.
I don’t think monogamy is for you.
What? Guaranteed sex is not for me?
That’s not what it’s about.
Then what’s it about, Brain? Enlighten me.
Finding your true soulmate.
You’re one of the dumbest Brains I’ve ever met.
You know what? For that comment, I’m not helping you in history class.
Shit.



Answer the fucking question, Brain.
Nope. Not until you apologize.
Fine, I’m sorry.
Okay, the answer is Hippocrates.
You’re brilliant Brain, but you’re moodier than Jessica.
Is that her name?
I think…
No you don’t, that’s my job twatface.

Haha, twatface. Remember Tiffany, Brain? All she wanted to do was sit on my face.
Yeah…that was pretty raunchy.
Raunchy?! You only don’t like remembering it because I’m with Jessica now.
You know what? You’re a bastard.
It’s only natural to look around… Jesus.
You should call her. She’s probably thinking about you.
Okay I will. Maybe we’ll fuck tonight.
Let’s just go.


Damn she looks hott.
She does look quite stunning.
Stop being gay, Brain. It’s “HOTT.” Two T’s bitch.
No, you’re gay, Nick.
I’m not gay, I have a girlfriend.
Even Liberace had girlfriends. That smells like a cover-up.
It is not.
Why are you even arguing with me, then?

Touche.
What did I say about that French shit?
Okay, let’s stop fighting, I have to concentrate.
What do you mean?
There are always lots of ” stunning” girls at this place.
So?
Well I don’t wanna be caught looking or that’s the end of the night.
Wear that hat on the backseat of your car.
Why?
Well then you can hide your eyes and look at their asses as they walk by.
You know what Brain? You’re not so bad after all.
Yeah, after your hours of watching porn, I sorta loosened up.
You watch it to?
It has literary merit.

Heh, I love you buddy.
I love you too.
Platonically, of course.
Whatever.


End of the night, thank God. Now for some pussy.
Yeah, you spent 40 bucks, you’d better get laid.
(*)
What the fuck was that?
…A kiss.

A kiss?

Where’s she goin, man?
I don’t know…Brain. Maybe to some other guy’s place?
Yeah, probably. She could definitely tell you were just trying to get a piece of ass tonight
Man, Brain, I love her, I can’t live without her! I’m going to go cry now.
You’re so fucking stupid.
Shut up!
No. Listen. An hour ago you were eye-fucking every other girl in the restaurant.
Yeah…I guess.
Well, what does that tell you?
That I should go back to the restaurant?
Exactly.
Let’s go.

FIN

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