No More Mr. Nice Guy

I can’t help it. It was the way I was brought up. What’s wrong with saying please and thank you, holding doors open for people (both male and female), helping pregnant ladies with their shopping, young mothers with prams and letting drivers out of side roads? And no, this is not a list I’ve just made up, because I find myself doing these on a fairly regular basis.

So given that the ladies find being a nice guy repulsive, after all they do say nice guys always finish last*, I’ve decided to drop the nice guy image, get myself one of these suspiciously looking hoodies and start sneering at old ladies.

As part of my new bad boy image I had considered having kill the kittens tattooed on my knuckles, but then I realised that I didn’t have enough knuckles. So instead I’ve decided that I’m going to leave the top off the toothpaste, leave the toilet seat up and, what the hell, I may even forget to wash my hands after going to the toilet. Oh, yes, I’m a bad boy now…

* Although they could be talking about bedroom activities