“What! No girlfriend… again?”
When it comes to girls of the opposite kinda sex,
He doesn’t know exactly how, or exactly why,
There’s less chance that a girl will fancy him
Than the Sun will turn into blue cheese.
Yes; when it comes to the birds,
He’s well and truuuuuuuly fucked.
(Or not fucked — as the case actually is.)
When it comes to girls, he’s supremely untalented.
He’s not very agile or smooth around them.
Yes; when he’s — rarely — in the company of girls
He’s like a shy fly around sheep shit.
(Not that women are shit or he’s a fly.)
He’s far too aware that girls are girls are girls
To relax or be at one with himself… or with girls.
He can’t be himself or even someone else.
The fact that the girls are girls takes over his mind.
The girlhood of girls becomes his only focus.
All other thoughts are crowded out.
It’s like he’s on Mars for the first time -
So he only has Mars on his mind.
Thus his monomania turns him arsehead.
As he fumbles his way to another failure
And falls at every possible hurdle.
And that, my friend, is why no girl will ever fancy him.
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