1. No girl will cook a complex dish for herself alone.

2. 90% of girls are not happy with their figure.

3. Most girls under 25 can refuse a serious relationship with a guy if they are more than 2 years older than the guy.

4. Girls never envy their rival’s intelligence; external data is considered a more important indicator for them.

5. Any girl will worry about the breakup of a long-term relationship for more than a year, even if she did not experience any feelings for her partner.

6. When three or more girls get together, they talk about men.

7. Almost all girls smoke occasionally, but prefer not to admit it to their partner.

7. Girls are able to buy jeans a couple sizes smaller, thereby gaining an incentive to lose weight.

8. There are no girls indifferent to cosmetics. Even if a girl doesn’t wear makeup, she still has a huge amount of “jars and bottles” at home.

9. Sometimes girls are more attracted to the original box than the gift in it. A girl keeps bows, ribbons, and beautiful gift wrappers for years.

10. Most girls keep text messages, postcards, and notes from their favorite guys.

11. At the age of 10-14, girls in flocks fall in love with the same boy, and notify each other about this, and jealousy has no place here.

12. If you think a girl might have a crush on you, ask her friends about it. Moreover, the more friends she has, the greater the likelihood of finding out the truth. Girls can't keep their mouths shut

13. Girls love notebooks with beautiful covers and buy them, even if they don’t need them.

14. Be afraid if a girl is in a bad mood! If you try to talk to her, she will find something to be offended by. if you don’t pay attention to her, she will be even more offended!

15. All girls have complexes about their appearance.

16. Most girls don't like bodybuilders.

17. A girl can cry just like that. For no reason.

18. A girl may be upset by a phrase you throw at her with a dissatisfied or offended tone. Moreover, the tone can be neutral. It just seemed that way to her

19. If a girl has a problem, she definitely needs to discuss it with her friends. It doesn’t matter over a bottle of beer or a cup of tea. The main thing is to discuss!

20. Girls do not like young people who treat animals poorly.

21. Girls like aggressive guys, but they prefer to start a serious relationship with kind ones

22. Fix the wiring or electrical appliance at the girl’s request and grow in her eyes to the level of a deity. Almost all girls are afraid of technology

23. Girls never keep contacts of ex-boyfriends. To avoid the temptation to call

24. Gaining 1 kilogram is fatal for a girl! At least a bad mood is guaranteed during the week!

25. Girls are able to gorge themselves on muesli, fruit, oatmeal, that is, what guys don’t consider food at all.

26. If you just wrote an SMS to a girl, be sure that she no longer just “knows” that you like her, she is almost sure that you love her!

27. If you asked a girl out on a date at 9 pm, know that she started getting ready at 5, but will still be late because at the last moment some naughty hair didn’t want to get ready.

28. You can date a girl for several months, but never see her without makeup. If, after all, she appears to you without makeup, know that now she trusts you!

30. It’s hard to tear a girl away from the window of a store where there are a lot of bright trinkets. There is a magpie inside every girl!

31. Girls keep the flowers you give them for a long time. They dry them out!

32. When dressing, girls most often wear a jacket, and only then trousers. And the guys will put on their pants first.

33. A girl can wear a thin blouse at –30. She won’t wear a thick sweater that visually makes her look fatter even on pain of death.

34. Every girl considers it her duty to feed her boyfriend to his fullest. Moreover, the more weight you gain, the more happy she will be.

35. If a girl is silent, things are bad. A storm is coming!

36. Almost all girls dream of getting married since childhood. And they've been planning a wedding since childhood

37. No girl will wake up at night and go to the refrigerator. And in general, the female half of humanity sincerely does not understand how you can wake up at night because you want to eat

38. Most girls won't wait for you to make the first move. Moreover, until you tell her directly that you don’t like her, she won’t leave you.

39. If you didn't like what the girl prepared, it's a low blow. You may not even say it, but she will still figure it out in some incomprehensible way.

40. Girls always pay attention to little things. Right down to the pattern on the wallpaper.

41. 90% of girls are sure that their every new love: “this is forever, this is love, I’m sure.” And they have already mentally calculated their subsequent life with the guy until their death

42. If a friend’s eyelashes are longer than a girl’s eyelashes, this is a serious reason for envy

43. There are no girls who are satisfied with the size of their breasts. You need either more or less. Always!

44. Not having the right size of a blouse you like in a store can upset a girl for at least a week!

45. Beautiful earrings, ring, etc. a friend has a serious reason not just for hostility, but for real hatred!

46. ​​Not being able to dance is a serious problem for a girl!

47. If you speak unflatteringly about a girl’s external qualities, this can provoke the development of a complex.

48. Girls are afraid to go out without makeup, even to a store 5 minutes walk from home

49. Buying and choosing a gift for a guy’s birthday takes at least 2 weeks

50. Girls wash dishes after eating, not before, like guys.

How I masturbated at the clinic for a spermogram.

I had a friend who was trying to have a child with his wife, but it just wasn't working out. And then one day he said:

I need to go to the clinic and get my little ones checked. Get a spermogram.

He went and checked. He came back gloomy. It turned out he had few sperm, and they themselves were lazy, like seals at a rookery. They didn't swim toward their target, but lay on their sides, waiting for the egg to crawl to them, apologize for the disturbance, and be gently fertilized.

And then a truly profound thought comes to my mind:

«Fuck. I'm also interested in what's going on there.»

I decided that I also needed to go and have a spermogram.

I prepared myself like a responsible person. I didn't drink or masturbate for a week. The alcohol was tough, but manageable. But masturbating was more difficult, because there was a rubber vagina from Amazon in my nightstand, literally calling me back to the sordid stability of sin. But curiosity won out.

After all, it’s not every day that you go and get tested to see how well your future children can swim.

I arrive at the clinic. Everything is routine there, without a shred of respect for the moment. Sign here. Sign here. Wash your dick over there. Wipe your hands with this. Here's the jar. Here's the room. Jerk off there. Cum here.

I'm standing there with this jar and I feel like someone who would drop everything right now and go home. But, damn! I'm so fucking curious!

I walk into the room. It smells of bleach. No signs of masturbation. A typical medical office. Only the lights are a little dim. For a better masturbation, I guess! A row of several half-chairs, half-lounges, like at the beach. I go to the far corner. I sit down. I take out the lube I brought from home earlier. I open my phone to search the internet for something inspiring. I pull down my pants. I sit on the chair, dick in one hand, lube in the other, and try to find masturbatory zen.

And then the door is kicked open. A man comes in.

He's also holding a jar. I'm sitting there, my dick half-erect, looking at him, slightly stunned. The guy looks at me. He nods in greeting. I automatically nod back, because apparently, even in a collective sperm donation situation, good manners are the last thing to die. And you have to be friendly.

He stands right in the middle of the room, pulls his jeans down to the floor, spits loudly into his palm, and begins to jerk off furiously. It sounds like a carpenter sanding a slat.

Then he releases his penis, spits again into his palm, and continues. And all this with such a focused expression, as if he weren't jerking off next to a stranger in a clinic, but saving the country from demographic collapse.

I'm sitting there. I have lube in one hand, my dick in the other, and I catch myself freaking out, just staring at some guy jerking off for two minutes now. As the friction dries out, he periodically spits on it.

Then I finally can’t stand it and ask:

Maybe lubricants?

The man stops. He looks at me. Then at the bottle. Then at me again.

— No, I don't drink. I'm driving.

I speak:

— No, it's lubricant.

He keeps looking at me as if I were offering him work in Oriflame or Faberlic.

— Well, lube. For jerking off. Here.

And, to shorten the path between misunderstanding and enlightenment, I drip a little onto my palm and demonstrate the principle of operation using my own example.

— Ah-ah-ah

… the man perks up. Okay, come on.

He approaches and extends his palm.

I drip some lubricant onto his palm.

He makes a couple of movements, freezes, and then with absolutely sincere delight says:

Oh-oh-oh, holy shit. This is so good!

And at that moment, I realized I might be witnessing the greatest technological breakthrough in his sex life. Because his reaction made it seem like he'd been using nothing but saliva his whole life.

The man came quickly. Grunting, writhing, and missing. These days, the jar isn't the diameter of a basketball hoop. The man got ready and left.

I was left alone, caught my breath and tried to get back to my task.

I had just started to get myself in the right frame of mind when the door opened again. A man came in. A different one.

And now I'm no longer at a loss. So, as someone with experience, I immediately ask in a businesslike manner:

Lubricants?

And I hand him the bottle.

But this one turned out to be a professional. He had his own.

And you know what? I wasn't even surprised. Nothing ever surprised me anymore.

So a guy came in to jerk off nearby. So he got out his lube. Oh well.

A typical Tuesday, a typical clinic, a typical jerk-off with a stranger. We ended up coming almost simultaneously. In sync. Almost like Olympic swimmers, only the discipline was noticeably worse.

My life experience when I jerked off in the same room with strangers and at the same time acted as a lubricant ambassador.

When it was all over, I walked out and went to the nurse: «Tell me,» I said, «do you always have several people there? And no partitions?» It's like a wanking hut.

It turned out there was a partition screen in the room. Like an accordion. It was like a VIP wank-off box, damn!

But we didn't see it. No one did.

Or rather, maybe we did, but who cared? No time for interior design. But at least I'm not afraid of a group masturbation anymore!

I'm just wondering, there's only one screen for the entire room. What if there's an influx of patients? Then what? Should everyone sit in a circle and jack off?

By the way, everything was fine with the tests.

More and more young women are asking indignantly: where have the knights gone? No one courts them or gives them gifts anymore.

We asked the guys why they don't court women or give gifts.

— Why the fuck should I humiliate myself and act like a beggar? When I can just message a MILF on a dating app, go over to her place, and she’ll suck me off for free and feed me, too.

— Real girls—the kind you’d want to court and invest in—are a dying breed. They’re all used goods. Nobody wants to pick up a «used food» from the trash and finish off someone else's leftovers.

— I could. But why bother? There’s no such thing as «my girlfriend» anymore; they’re all public property. Everyone uses the girl, but I’m the one who has to pay? I don’t even want that public cesspool, not even for free.

— Because nowadays a girl is like a taxi—everyone uses her, and the mileage is sky-high. It’s cheaper to just order a ride once in a while than to own your own clunker that needs maintenance and money poured into it—plus you have to ask for permission to do anything.

— Hey, listen, brother. If you want to drink some milk, do you want to get your own cow and build a barn for it? And clean up its shit and maintain it… Or is it easier to just buy it ready-made at the store and drink it?

— You wear that collar yourself! I ain't no dog to live tied up on a leash!

Was about to change Vanos seals and bearings today. All of my parts and tools needed for the job are here and ready to go. I opened the hood and I closed the hood. 

«You want fantasy? Here's one… There's this species that lives on a planet a few miles above molten rock and a few miles below a vacuum that'd suck the air right out of them. They live in a brief geological period between ice ages, when giant asteroids have temporarily stopped smacking into the surface. As far as they can tell, there's nowhere else in the universe where they could stay alive for ten seconds.

And what do they call their fragile little slice of space and time? They call it real life. In a universe where it is known that whole galaxies can explode, they think there's things like 'natural justice' and 'destiny'. Some of them even believe in democracy… I'm a fantasy writer, and even I find it all a bit hard to believe.»

-Terry Pratchett, Whose Fantasy Are You?

After being told that my balls looked like an old Rastafarian, I decided to take the plunge and buy this gel—mostly because previous shaving attempts hadn't gone well, and I’d nearly wrecked my back trying to reach those hard-to-get-to spots.

I’m a bit of a romantic, so I decided to do it on my wife’s birthday—sort of as an extra gift. I ordered it in advance. Since I work in the North Sea, I considered myself a tough guy and figured the previous reviews were written by some pathetic office drones...

Oh, my fellow sufferers, how wrong I was. I waited until my better half had gone to bed, hinted at a special surprise, and headed to the bathroom. At first, everything was fine. I applied the gel to the target areas and waited. And I didn't have to wait long. At first, I felt a warmth that, within seconds, turned into an intense burning sensation—a feeling I can only compare to having a pair of barbed-wire underpants yanked up tight while someone tries to launch you toward the ceiling. I hadn't been particularly religious before that evening, but in that moment, I would have believed in any god if he’d just save me from the horrific burning around my arsehole and the total devastation of my sausage and two eggs. Trying not to bite clean through my lower lip, I attempted to wash the gel off in the sink, but all I managed to do was shove a clump of hair down the drain.

Through a veil of tears, I stumbled out of the bathroom and headed for the kitchen. I couldn't walk anymore, so I crawled the last few meters to the fridge. I pulled out the bottom drawer, found a tub of ice cream, ripped off the lid, and shoved it underneath me. The relief was fantastic but short-lived, as the ice cream melted quickly and the hellish burning returned. The tub was rather small, so I couldn't really treat my asshole.

I started rummaging through the freezer, hoping to find *something*—my eyes were so full of tears that I could barely see. I grabbed a bag—which I later discovered contained frozen bean sprouts—and tore it open, trying to be as quiet as possible. I grabbed a handful of sprouts and tried, unsuccessfully, to wedge them between my buttocks. It didn't help; the gel had apparently made its way into my rectum, and it felt like a jet engine was running in there. I hope I never again find myself wishing for a gay snowman to appear in the kitchen—do you realize how low I was willing to stoop to ease the pain? The only solution my pain-crazed brain could come up with was to carefully insert a sprout where no plant had ever sprouted before. Unfortunately, hearing strange groans coming from the kitchen, my wife decided to get up and see what was going on. She was met with a stunning sight: me lying on the floor with my ass stuck out—dripping with strawberry ice cream—shoving beans up my rear while muttering, «Oh, that feels so good.»

She was undoubtedly shocked and screamed in horror. I hadn't heard her come in, so I was startled too; my gut spasmed, and the sprout shot out at high speed in her direction. Yes, I realize that a bean sprout—which someone farts in the direction of at midnight—isn't exactly the surprise she was hoping for; plus, the next day, the kids had to be given a long explanation about what happened to the ice cream… all in all, thanks to Veet, you can lose not just your body hair, but your dignity and self-respect, too.