The Vatican has been so busy lately — condemning the war in Iraq, changing the date of St. Patrick's Day, bankrolling Anne Hathaway's boyfriend in hopes he will help them pay their mountainous legal fees — that you might have missed it last week when they put out a new list of Seven Sins. Well, they were zeitgeisty! But since I'm sure very few of you are really making wayyyy too much money or laying waste to the environment or conducting research on stem cells, I didn't know how relevant they would be to Jezebel. Which is why we decided to rewrite the list to better address our favorite topic du jour: Eliot Spitzer. And, you know, boys. Herewith, our Seven Dudely Sins.
Really. We're in a "relationship" now? Isn't that a little presumptuous? You know I'm just "settling" on my current husband...how exactly? Are you aware of the world outside your own cocoon of baffling self-assurance? You sent that eleventh text message without reply because you're so very certain I will finally succumb to your charms...based on what? You're unattractive, unemployed and uncharming and yet you tell everyone I'm your type because...women like me have managed to see virtue in you in the past? Why must you assume I am desperate? And why must you assume that I fucked you before, therefore I will fuck you now? Why must you assume that I ever really wanted to fuck you to begin with? That you weren't just a pity fuck in the first place? Did I even attempt to fake an orgasm? Were you even paying attention? Wait, hold on a second, I don't get mad often, so when I fucking get mad, will you fucking look at me when I'm talking to you? Oh my God, are you checking that girl out? Seriously? Which brings me to...
Wandering Eye (Related: the "No Club That Would Have Me As A Member" Club)
You think there's something hotter/smarter/prettier/cooler around the corner. Guess what? THERE IS. ALWAYS. IT WILL NEVER END. SEVEN BILLION PEOPLE, GUYS. You can't fuck all of them. And why the fuck should they fuck you?
'Bros Before Hoes'-ism
You know what females are sick of? Loyalty. Fuck it, you know? We have enough. We don't need it from men. We're strong. Why would we need you to stick up for us ever? Especially our male friends, when they set us up with their male friends and something goes wrong. It's cool to be a leper sometimes, it's like we get to experience apartheid. But like, did it ever occur to you that the guy who coined that phrase, "Bros before hoes," did so because he never got laid?
Hey baby, will you tell me that story about how you came in that girl's face that night while shouting our her best friend's name, just to fuck with her? It's cool, because I know you would never do a thing like that to me because our relationship is totally different and you actually view me as more than just, as you so charmingly put it, a "cum dumpster." I feel really special that you made that leap with me.
Delusions of Grandeur
I dated a guy once who, I shit you not, had a two-sided To-do list pinned to his bulletin board. Facing up, we had some mundane reminders — buy a new lamp, exercise more — but if you turned it over, there were a few more. "Write sequel to The Prince." Now, see: that guy had been trained. He had ambitions, sure, but he knew better than to wear him on his sleeve in an attempt to make you think they might interfere with your plans to get Indian food.
Testosterone Supremacy (Related: overuse of terms such as "crazy", "PMS", "drama", "aggro"...)
Hey! I know men are better at math and science, but just where is the book that told dudes that estrogen was the driver of all female emotion? And that our hormones not only render all our thoughts and feelings wild and irrational, but that they blind us to any sense of reason that might lead us to screen the grievances we air to men for accuracy, logic and fairness? Because we're completely oblivious to the fact that women are biologically more emotional than men and therefore can never be told enough that we are engaging in "drama" or being "crazy." Unless we do hear that enough, and stifle our instincts and emotions and learn to choose our battles to the point that we actually get a reputation for being "chill," in which case it is an invitation for our dude friends to profess their love for us and chalk it up to our massive repressed numbness when we find ourselves unwilling to reciprocate. (See this sentiment expressed in Crap Email form here.)
You know what is fair and just and true,
And it ends in -ilingus if we've gone down on you.
Related: Why Can't You Resist This Woman? [Details]