Living with the opposite sex is like an episode of Cops without the crystal meth: anything you say or do can and will be used against you in the court of common law marriage. But remember that pleading the 5th will prove more fatal for you than it did for Mark Fuhrman circa 1994, so buckle up as we run down our rational guide to the completely irrational female communication process.
More like “No dear.” Contrary to popular belief “yes dear” is as effective as a deflection methodology as the namesake show starring Mark O’Malley was successful in syndication. “Yes Dear” is a legally binding contract and an admission of guilt. It’s not just an old standby dad joke and obligatory best man speech cliche, it’s legally binding in the court of public opinion. Rolling over and giving into bae with the defense of Poland during blitzkrieg, is the relationship equivalent of giving a mouse a cookie.
Always tell the truth. All females are 2 parts CSI analyst, 1 part Russian software hacker and a sprinkle of De Niro from Meet the Parents. They make Room Raiders look like Blues Clues. They can read your facial expressions like Phil Ivey and know you’re lying even if you don’t. Their vigilante justice is ruthless and even the whitest of lies will be sniffed out, violently eradicated and left, beheaded, at the foot of your bed. It doesn’t matter if the discrepancy in your point is about your preference of breakfast cereal or why you weren’t responding to texts on Friday night, your own personal Gitmo interrogator will get to the bottom of it.
Beware the recurring, terminal comment. This is the herpes sore of spoken word. It might be a harmless conversation about how she’s like her mother, but she will lock it away in her female equivalent of the spank bank where it will sit and accrue interest in the form of thousands of dollars spent at the shrink. Then like your bowels during Norovirus-gate at Chipotle, her thoughts will be unleashed and without warning her diharrea of the mouth will ensue: “Why did you say that I look like my mother when I sneeze roughly 2 years, 3 months, 4 days, 6 hours and 11 minutes ago right after I stole the best, most crispy French fry off your plate at the diner on Grand Street?” Practice safe conversation and may you always shoot blanks instead of incendiary foddor for the fire that is the female thought process.
Never stop talking. If there’s anything that infuriates a homosapien with two X chromosones, it’s lack there of. Irish exiting and/or pleading the fifth in conversation with your girlfriend is an easy way to find out what 6 weeks of sexless relegation to the futon in the basement feels like. Say as much as you can while simultaneously saying nothing at all. One word: filibuster.
Get her to say more than one word. The one word answer is the calm before the shitstorm that will make Katrina look like a sun-shower that culminates in a god damn rainbow. But TeeTime what if she doesn’t respond at all? Run.
Never say “I don’t care, it’s up to you.” Whether it’s the Netflix to your chill, or a Seamless order, may the words “I don’t care” never leave your lips in earshot of a female. Not only will this trigger her thoughts of you not caring, which includes but is not limited to neglecting your future, but already named, offspring but will result in a philosophical dialogue that chronicles the pros and cons of each possible outcome of the matter at hand. If said females head doesn’t explode from the overwhelming responsibilty of decision making, you will probably die of starvation and/or end up falling asleep without having watched a Rom Com starring Paul Rudd. Here’s a power user tip: “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days” and pizza.
Never blame anything on Ant Flow. Whether she’s complaining of a side stitch or just admitted to the “Making a Murderer” crime, remember it is not your right to blame her hormones on her current behavior or irrational spoken word. She had to put up with the double standard of sleeping with half of the SAE house during college and now you have to put up with the double standard of her complaining about her shedding her uterus lining with absolutely no recourse. (If you were still reading, you’re probably done now.)