Guys Night

A few months ago, I had an idea. While this isn’t rare in itself, it was actually a pretty decent idea, which made it stand out in my mind. If you recall, a few months ago I was saddened by how my friends were all drifting away from me because they had girlfriends and shit and only I was staying true to the bachelor lifestyle (i.e. beer for breakfast, a shower every couple of days and being on a first name basis with the pizza delivery guy).

My readers all gave me great advice, some of which I still vaguely remember, (something about wooden shoes maybe? Was there an ocelot involved in there somewhere? I don’t remember). But I decided on another approach. I invented Guys’ Night.

The purpose of this night should be fairly obvious. Every other Thursday, we men would get together to engage in some kind of manly activity, (you know, like playing pool or doing body shots off each other, regular guy stuff!) and would be able to bond in that way. It became a chance for guys to get away from their slavemasters, I mean girlfriends, for a few hours a night and enjoy the good old days of male camaraderie.

Sadly it didn’t work out very well. Some people (you probably don’t read my blog anymore since you don’t comment, but this is about you “Blank”) didn’t understand the concept of guys’ night. There was too much whining and complaining. Some guys took it for granted as an activity to do until something better came along. Some guys only hung out for a little bit because their girlfriends gave them a curfew.

I felt bad that these guys didn’t understand the reasons behind Guys’ Night. I was saddened that they saw it as a chore more than an opportunity for a bunch of friends to hang out together without the inherent drama that people with vaginas bring.

But the worse part was how nobody could be bothered. People didn’t want to help me set these Guys’ Nights up. And they blamed it on communication problems. People weren’t getting my texts or emails or whatever. Nevermind that communication problems such as these had never occurred before, or that those are always the lies I use when I don’t want to talk to people, (as my father told me time and time again, “Never Bullshit a Bullshitter”). They wanted to participate, they wanted to complain when things weren’t perfect, but they didn’t want to help. Much like that story about the chicken (Henny Penny?) who wants to eat a cake and all the other talking barnyard animals are down with the idea, but none of them help her when she tries to make it, they only show up when it’s time to eat.

I’ve always been loyal to my friends. Friendship means more to me than, say, the in-flight Kosher meal. It’s always bros before hos in my world, (which may be the problem). Years ago, when one of my best friends had a night of wild, orgasmic sex with my ex girlfriend, where I’m sure he pleasured her repeatedly and satisfied her in ways I never could, I didn’t end our friendship. I just sulked and drank heavily for many months, (what would you have done? Going for a revenge murder is still an option, I guess.)

The point is this, I always try to be there for my friends, but these days I’m noticing that a lot of them aren’t there for me. Not all of my friends are worthless; mind you, just the majority. For example: friends I have had for decades, friends that I thought I had been through a lot with, promised to send me care packages while I was in Iraq. Of the dozens of people who promised to send me care packages, maybe three people did. And it’s not like they had any good excuses. Hell, I was in Iraq for two years! Years people! That’s plenty of time in which to mail some shit off. Is it too much to ask to expect people to send you toilet paper and toothbrushes like they promised?

I’m giving up. I’m drawing my circle of friends tighter around me. Many are going to get dropped. People who I thought would always be around have proven that the only times they ever did come around was when they wanted something.

If you know me in the real world and you think this might apply to you, then guess what? It does. I don’t have the energy to keep up with a bunch of useless friends anymore.

MOTTO: Everybody sucks.

(Insert humorous wrap-up sentence right here, if possible. Or, failing that, one last remark telling friends to go screw themselves.)