Those god damned girly quizzes will be the death of me

Sometimes Most of the time I think I’m my own worst enemy. Jill Y loves doing those girly quizzes in those stupid magazines that women can’t get enough of. You know the ones that are supposed to be designed to change men into put the toilet seat down/shopping lovers with titles like:

 10 ways to know your man really loves you.

or

 how to get him to show his feelings.

or

how to find what country he hid the credit card in.

Her latest interrogation involved me answering 10 questions but I could only answer one of them. Surely that doesn’t make me a bad little mocker:




Are there any brothers out there who dig what I’m saying?