Boys Are Dumb

By Anastasia Jay

For any of you that know me in real life: totally disregard this blog. I know: I’ve been playfully -but yet- vehemently pushing this propaganda my whole life… you knowwwww how I feel about this.

For all of the rest of youuu…

“Girls are not crazy: boys are just dumb.” I have been saying this since I realized that there were far more than just anatomical differences between us… and I’m often surprised by how many people appear startled by this philosophy of mine: because, after all, where is the confusion? IT ONLY MAKES SENSE… and I’ve got 8 examples to back this up.


Not only is it frustrating attempting to converse with men, it can be downright painful — in an annoying way. If they weren’t so freaking cute, I literally wouldn’t see the purpose.

It never fails: They stare at you, eyes squinted, as though the emotions discussed were some sort of concoction of complex trigonometric equations and they wonder aloud how A equaled Z to begin with: It’s enough to make you question whether you’re in fact speaking English…. Which is extra perplexing for those of us who speak no other language. But yet and still, for us heterosexual women left standing (that haven’t been driven to lesbianism out of sheer annoyance), we remain semi-patient. And our thanks…? : We get called bat shit crazy. How. F-Ing. Ungrateful. If only our parents would have saved us the time and energy of hoping for Cinderella fairy tales and instead explained “you’re gonna meet boys. Some of them are gonna be really F-ing hot. But, if you want one, it involves endless repetition and explaining yourself until you can’t anymore.”

Boys — Think about it:

1. if you were constantly attempting to explain something to me and it was met by an air of unapologetic confusion and evident neural misfires in my brain manifested directly on my face: WOULD YOU NOT CALL ME AN IDIOT?

2. If you were consistently attempting to rephrase things -basic things- more artfully, more illustratively, more powerfully…. Only to be met with- not only a dumb stare — but a tired, bewildered dumb stare (literally the worst), would you not consider me to be an utter moron?

3.Let me take this one step even further: Then, imagine that, as a result of my lack understanding and confusion, I, the dummy, turned around and called YOU names (I.e. “Crazy”): would you not want to drive your head into a brick wall…?

Assuming that you answered yes to these questions (because there is literally no other logical answer) HOW THEE (BLEEP) DO YOU THINK WOMEN FEEL WHEN WE ARE TALKING TO MEN ABOUT EMOTIONS?!

Enter my theory.


Men are taught from a young and tender age that emotions are to be suppressed at all costs, complexities are to be minimized and logic trumps ALL. Women, on the other hand, are encouraged to become cognizant of our emotions, explore them appropriately, and express them. Because of this early childhood differentiation, emotions (an otherwise human experience unique to all mankind alike) became a characteristic associated exclusively with the female gender. And, as well all know, the ultimate insult to a heterosexual man is to be compared to a woman… in any sense.

With this in mind, anything that deviates from the all-American white, Christian, middle aged MALE in America allegedly represents all that’s wrong with society. Knowing that our society has normalized their behavior helps us women to understand why men can just be so dumb… and proud. After years of stifling their feelings, they almost… kind of… lost them in a sense… or at least, never explored the potential depth of them. Therefore, they have been rendered totally incapable of processing thoughts at such heightened frequencies. It’s work for the pros…. and if you don’t use it, you lose it. Hence, they are essentially operating with half a deck of cards -and- since that half deck is representative of the almighty “American standard,” WE become the crazy basket cases in need of modification.


Ladies, I know that they try to tell you that it’s you, and perhaps at moments, (like right before your period) you start to believe them. BUT ITS NOT : We are merely more emotionally-literate.

I have a quote (entirely made up by myself from years of living in south Florida with fellow idiots): “the less intelligent you are, the quicker you anger.” Although my homemade quote was originally intended for general applicability to the masses, I have found that this applies directly to this subject matter. You ever notice that the smarter people in your life typically tend to have a calmer aura about them than the idiots that you know? Welllll, this is the sort of affliction experienced by our male counterparts. I have absolutely no scientific evidence to back this up -however- just trust me.:-Since they are too dumb to comprehend, all that they don’t understand becomes totally annoying/obnoxious/preposterous to them…. Subconsciously, It makes them feel incompetent and so they get pissed. Thus, they resort to classic name calling, ie : “crazy.” This is how we get blamed for the emotional retardation: niiiice.


As I always say: boys do everything that they do in life for “the bitches.” It is the one thing that motivates them to get off of the couch, put down the Play Station controller, and move... at all.

For example, when they start a new career, get a new car, attain a degree, or do anything else even remotely noteworthy, their first thought is “IM GONNA GET SO MANY BITCHESSS.” Hell, I am utterly convinced that their gross asses wouldn’t even shower if we didn’t exist.

They go everywhere that they go in search of “the bitches” (the club, the bar, the parties, the beach, work, the gym…). No matter what it is that they are doing: they are in search of potential pussy. Even when an activity was their sole purpose for leaving home in the morning, they are EASILY distracted by anything with boobs, a butt, and suspected of owning a vagina. Like, what bitch hasn’t been going 70 mph on I-95 only for a man to see her, do a double take, wind down his window, and proceed to pull up next to her, maintaining a continuum of her speed, and casually attempt to strike up a conversation… AS IF WE ARE NOT ON I95?!? -_- niggaaaa. ✋🏿

In other words, they suffer from a chronic, unofficial, unstudied form of ADD… with episodes brought on by tits.


Still not convinced…? Enter football: the biggest problem in America. If you don’t think boys are dumb, when you get a chance: watch A man while THAT man watches football. How on earth could someone be so consumed by such a strange thing…? Think about football for a second. It is essentially a game in which the entire object is to run after one another and take each other down to the ground. Over….and over…and over again. Just throw in some steroids, an oddly shaped object otherwise known as a “football,” some random measurements on the ground with yellow y’s at either end and create totally random rules like “no celebration in the endzone”… and you’ve basically explained the game of football. But yet, sit back and watch as a man (whom you would have considered stable and sane only moments before) as he coaches Tony Romo live from his living room futon. Not only does he coach: 1. He screams at Romo. 2. He calls Romo horrid names. 3. He fires him…. Only to rehire him -and THEN help him out with some advice and words of encouragement moments later: All from THE COUCH… with absolutely no qualifications aside from being the pee wee MVP when he was eight and the adult rec league games that he forces you to attend. Like, bro, really? -_-

This form of mindless entertainment permeates their entire social lives in maaaany ways. For example, what millennial woman hasn’t bought an xBox game as a birthday present for her grown ass male lover? *Bitch, we all have.* Buuuut isn’t it a little alarming that grown men consider it totally normal and acceptable to spend entire evenings playing video games in their 30s? Boys: watching you play video games is pretty similar to how you would feel if I pulled out Barbie and Ken and proceeded to marry them every afternoon after work in the living room. It’s the same: You are essentially placing yourself in fictional, imaginary environments and pretending that you’re there… in the midst of it all… fighting for…. whatever the hell it is that boys fight for on their Xbox.

And then, there’s World Star…

Additionally, for those of us that date in the “hip hop savy community” (politically correct, I think? — in other words: I LOVE BLACK GUYS-), how many of you have sat on the bed as your boyfriend nudged you laughing hysterically telling you “BABE! BABE! Ya gotta watch this girl fight!”…? Moments later “oooooo she got her! SHEEE. GOTTTT. HERRRR!” And they’re totally oblivious to the fact that we are sitting alongside him thinking to ourselves “who am I? And what did I do wrong in my life to end up right here, in this very moment, sitting next to this sexy idiot on a Saturday night…?”


When I was in Pre-K, a little boy named Jerry liked me so he would pull my hair, tease me, and send me into little Anastasia-Jay-tizzies. Little did I know: I would be meeting jerry in adult form throughout my entire life. This behavior merely takes on a new format in adulthood. They find ways to do that very thing by throwing paper balls at your cubicle at work and grabbing your butt in the club. Mindless: totally. Mindless.

When we were younger, they made fun of each others ‘mamas’… and that was fun to them. Male bonding sessions remain equally as strange as they age. For some reason their idea of a good time is trading insults with their friends. To make matters worse, they proceed to attempt to engage US girls in this verbal sparring and no matter how many times they get in trouble, they have yet to understand that doing so with a girl will likely end in an emotional thunderstorm of HATE. But yet and still, every day, they wake up and try to do it again. Insert the familiar definition of insanity…. (But we are the crazy ones, right…?)


Let us not forget the oh so unimpressive move that has entertained men for likely thousands of years. I am sure that we have all watched a totally naked boyfriend stand before you post sex as he jumped around in amazement as his dick flopped up and down as if it were some sort of miraculous magician-worthy trick…. The same trick that he showed you last week. And the week before. And the week before that. -_- How cool… Not. But, it amazes these people : ALL OF THEM.


They also speak in this sort of extraordinarily LITERAL code of the English language, entirely free from various interpretations. It baffled me for years of my life because when you say something/anything to those big sexy dummies: in their minds, it means EXACTLY what you said. Like, no deviation. No analysis of your motives. No consideration for the slightly hidden, actual -or even mildly conflicting- meaning. In other words, they lack the ability to apply your words to the context in which they were spoken… failing to take it all in totality. For example, an ex-boyfriend and I remain very close, platonic friends (once the typical breakup mellow drama settled). He called me the other day to explain to me that he was on the verge of officiality with a girl when she dropped AN EARTH SHATTERING BOMBSHELL. Apparently, she texted him to say “For the record- I’m not your gf so I can’t get jealous about what’s going on in your snap chat.” For all of the Girl-Readers: WE KNOW EXACTLY WHAT THIS MEANS. Translation: I want to be your girlfriend (LIKE, SO BAD) and I’m extremely jealous of every single thing that I saw on your snap chat.” In my opinion, this was blatant AND — literally- thee ONLY logical explanation for what was said. He, on the other hand, was genuinely PERPLEXED because, after all, “She said she’s NOT my girlfriend.” Because of this, I have learned to speak verrrrryyyy slowwwwwwwwwlyyyyy and in fully formatted bullets to the opposite sex. I also take longggggggg pauses before I speak because what I am saying will be inevitably misconstrued to mean… well, exactly what I said. -_-


We have all had that moment. The one where you are going somewhere fancy/semi-formal with your boyfriend and he comes out of his room wearing shorts like an idiot…. Even crazier : homeboy is totally serious. And as you shuffle him back into his room to redress himself (if you even bothered), he gives you that “You’re my #1 hater” face… and it’s like, “no. You’re just dumbbbb, lol”

Every boyfriend has a “hat.” The stupid hat. The hat that has survived one too many Instagram pictures. One too many vacations. One too many concerts. One too many everything. It’s dirty and it makes him look like an idiot. …And no matter how many times you try to throw it away, it reappears on his head and lives to see another day. He insists upon wearing it. Because, in his opinion, this hat looks great on him. My last relationship was filled with fadora-related embarrassments….-_-


If you are still reading and you have arrived here, to the end: I’m willing to bet that you own a vagina. …Because, after all, if you don’t want a man to discover something, put it in more than 2 paragraphs and he’ll NEVER find it… ;)

The prognosis

Essentially, we are dealing with an entire class of people that advance to various stages of infancy throughout life. In light of all of this discussion what do I suggest that women do? 1. Give it to baby Jesus in prayer -_- 2. Develop a killer sense of humor and drink wine. Lots of wine.

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