There goes my Hall of Fame chances
I was out on assignment the other day when I saw her.
With her oversized sunglasses and perfectly coordinated outfit, she was definitely a rare breed, an endangered species.
I knew instantly that I was the presence of a Headliner girl.
Everyone knows a Headliner girl. That girl who oozes confidence and possesses a physical beauty that would cause Ray Charles to turn his head as she walked by. A girl who could make Lance Bass play for Team Hetero again. Headliner girls are the single best evidence for the existence of lesbians, so incredibly hot that even women want them.
They are called Headliner girls because, much like the main act of a concert, they are the reason people show up. Sure the opening band is cool, but everybody is begging and aching for the Headliner.
As I took a moment to admire this Headliner in my midst, I was hit with a disturbing revelation.
I am never getting into the Man Hall of Fame. Nope, not a prayer.
Why? Because as I stared at this smokin’ hot Headliner, I realized that although men were gravitating to her like Cheetos bags gravitate to me, I really had no desire at all to sleep with her.
Here’s the kicker: She’s too pretty.
I can see through the tiny camera installed in your newspaper (it’s in the left eye of my picture to your left) that you are confused, so I will turn the camera off and explain my thinking.
Here’s my logic, let’s say that the stars align, opening a time warp that alters the space-time continuum and allows me to land a Headliner.
So, we’re pretty much operating in the land of gumdrop bunnies and cars powered on pixie dust.
No, not California.
The problem is, after putting so much work into getting a Headliner to even want to sleep with me, I really don’t think I’d know what to do with her once she said yes.
See, this is why I’ll never own a Ferrari. Because if I did, I wouldn’t know what to do with it or how to use it to its maximum potential.
With a Ferrari I understand I could go really fast, but that would get old quickly and then the only reason to have it is because I look good standing next to it.
Same problem with the Headliner girl. The whole time I should be enjoying myself, I would be running myself down in my head, which leads to a lack of focus and BAM, the engine on my “Ferrari” won’t start (if you get my drift).
Now, I know the common response is “yeah, it would get old, but I’d still do it because she’s sooooo hot,” but that seems like a lot of work just to end up naked, alone and completely embarrassed by lack of “horsepower.”
So, I think to myself, “why bother in the first place?”
There isn’t a Man Hall of Fame inductee anywhere who would talk like that or turn down even the most remote chance with a Headliner.
It’s too bad too, because I was hoping she’d be my date to the induction ceremony.
Think I’m crazy? Tell me about it.