Written By: The Unsung Romantic
I think my father said it best to me, as well as a few unsuspecting buddies of mine while packed into the ’86 Plymouth Tourismo Duster I inherited a little after this short lived sermon took place. “Look man,” he said (Try to envision a middle-aged suave Cuban man, with white hair, a mustache and a thick accent when hearing him). “You guys have to get this really simple with all the bullshit you keep talking about Paul’s (my good friend at the time) crazy girlfriend …” “What’s that? She’s fucking crazy,” I said! So he goes with the voice of a man who’swisdom of biblical proportions was only beginning to release itself that day after baseball practice, “That’s right, guy. She’s fucking crazy. They all are, but that isn’t what matters. It is the farthest thing from the solution to understanding women because that’s the constant of the female universe.” “The real problem is you, Paul. If you want to be happy, then you have to understand that it is you that is the problem in the formula, not her.”
Immediately after this, like a bunch of virgin assholes who think the old man has been married to my mother for so long he’s lost all sense of his manhood, has been emasculated, recircumsized and can’t remember what a pussy looks like my idiot friend goes, “But Mr. X, girls are fucking nuts now and pussies are much better now than they used to be. They’re like cleaner and so girls think they are the shit. Like they can do whatever they want.”
Dad pulls the car over into a church parking lot just a few lots down from our house …
“Do you know what a pussy is, Steve? (idiot friend). What does it look like? Describe it. Do you like the way it tastes? What about when ‘jur little cock is pretending to fuck it?”
“Whoa! Mr. X. You are fucking crazy!” (immediate teenage boy blushes occur) because we have no fucking idea what a pussy really is.
“A pussy is the Alpha and the Omega my friends. It is the big bang theory. The instant the universe was created so was the pussy to make sure that man will always understand his purpose as number two in life, behind number one, the pussy. The woman. The girlfriend. The wife.” “Entiendes, mariconsitos (lil’ fags)? So stop fucking around.”
It was at this point in time where we still had no fucking idea what dad was talking about, until I put his next and final sentence of that car ride together many years and many, many women down the road.
“There are women you fuck … And there are women you marry … But guys, they’re all kind of crazy.” He pops the car in drive, pulls a few lots up into the driveway, turns to us and says with a commanding wink that’s usually given before James Bond wins the girl, the card game and kills you in the process, “But if you fucking tell your mother what I said, I’ll kill you and you will never know what a pussy is.”
So my mom was “that kind of crazy” that made my dad want to marry her, make me and live the rest of their lives together in a happiness that was created in a big bang the second the two of them were born.
So what’s my fucking point? The point is my friends, that the following series of many short stories will encompass every type of crazy (woman) known to man (at least through my vaginascope). And along the way I hope we can all share a few more undiscovered kinds of crazy that have done everything from make us cry (yes, I said it), to make us feel like we were born to be porn stars and even those who still make us us wonder if she was ever a man before you met her …
In the end, we’re going to figure out what it is that we really want in a woman. Whether it be your voyeuristic anal whore, or ultra orthodox religious virgin with a penchant for foot fetishes, or the girl next door who is also a doctor (while you are a kindergarten teacher) – we are going to find our “That Kind of Crazy” that makes us never look back.
I promise! Even if it makes us crazy, like a woman.
The Unsung Romantic