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Monday, October 03, 2005 

Conversations with the girlfriend

On the subject of what she likes most about me, the girlfriend retaliated that I am a charming arsehole. I kid you not! Harumph!
Until that very moment, I have never even heard of a charming arsehole, but she says if there ever was such a thing(?), I would be the poster boy for it. (can you taste the sarcasm in this one?)
Ok… I flinched a bit, well quite a bit, at the mention of the word arsehole, but she assures me it is meant in the nicest possible way.
I laughed, as boyfriends always do, and mentioned that I thought it was kinda cute, although I had no bloody idea what she was talking about. I am never quite sure when it comes to these things and what the correct response should be.
I have given up trying to understand the subtle nuances of the female’s use of words and language. Ask any guy whose girlfriend has ever referred to the colour pink as "peach blossom " or to brown as "the colour of sun-ripened dates " when they talked about new tiles for the bathroom. I was of course completely unaware that the colour spectrum has moved into realm of fruits and other things of a vegetative nature.
Whatever happened to dear old ROYGBIV, I ask you!! But there you have it folks (and by folks I mean men), colour as we know it, no longer exists. [Don’t get even get me started on such statements as, “White is the new black]
Personally, I can think of a myriad of words to describe myself, the majority of which would include the words stud and hunk linked to other words such as charming, debonair, smooth and sophisticated. Apparently none of these come to mind when the woman I care about, thinks of me.
So when my girl calls me a charming arsehole, I bite my lip and assume she knows what she’s talking about. I smile my cutest smile and pretend that she means that I am charming in a somewhat rogue-ish, bad-boy sort of way.
Let’s be brutally honest here, most guys are arseholes anyway, so a charming arsehole may just be a step up on the evolutionary ladder.
For the briefest of moments I thought it was a game. I wanted to play along and call her something along the lines of feisty vixen, saucy bitch or something equally enigmatic. But then I decided that this is one game I am not going to win and gave up. What with me not being able to speak womanese [(n): the official language of the species native to the planet Venus], I am at a distinct disadvantage.
I may also seriously jeopardize my chances of having sex in the next ten years and that was there was the clincher.
I am charming arsehole… hear me purr!
Uhhhh…. you think perhaps the episode with the air hostess may have had something to with it?


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