Anyone who had the misfortune to be in my general vicinity last night would have described me as "more than mildly cranky." I had come to the sad realization that, in due time, all my closest friends will be stolen away by girls.
Now, this school "suffers" from a shortage of females, particularly available ones. The ratio of guys to girls is somewhere in the neighborhood of seven to one. The dudes on campus aren't too psyched about this, but I've been stupidly enjoying the fact that I can hang out with fifteen guys at a time without the interference of some air-headed, Barbie-bodied girl.
With the marriage of one of my favorite male friends looming on the horizon, I have decided that it is necessary to kill off all females, or at least all the ones who threaten my friendships. The only thing holding me back at this point is the lack of a cool serial killer name. I don't want to leave something that important up to the journalists in this area, so I'm going to have to create t-shirts with my alias and story on them which I will put on the bodies of my victims.
Thankfully, that idea — much more alarming in print than it was in my head — requires effort which I don't foresee myself expending at any point during this lifetime. I mean, I can't even bother to find something more interesting to do in my boredom than to play Spider Solitaire for hours on end. Furthermore, I have plenty of not-so-creepy shirts which need to be created before I can even think about wasting time and money on morbid paraphernalia.
So to all the girls out there threatening to steal away my boys, be grateful that I am lazy and behind in my shirt-making. Also, for the love of all things holy, keep your grubby paws away from my friends.