PERSONAL
Let’s take euphemisms seriously now
Celebrating a single life.
Single. Celibate. Introvert. Chills up in her own bed to watch Netflix and slurp away a bottle of pop with a bowl of chips. Alone. Most importantly, has never hopped around any dating sites for ages now and has already abolished all ‘romantic’ hopes to find a genuine partner who wouldn’t demand sex when I’m ‘sad’. So no. ‘Netflix and Chill’ euphemism poses as a great insult to my menopausal, sweet existence.
Apparently, these two nouns with ‘the mischievous’ conjunction in the middle are in for some spicy business. It’s all about ‘casual hookups’. Uh, excuse me? Who even has time for promiscuity these days? Who?
No one.
Here are the funny reasons why that I wholeheartedly approve:
- Women have been busy connecting with their vision boards, ‘law of attraction’ duties, and quantum leap techniques to get to their ‘desired reality’. They worry more about their bank accounts than wasting their time on ‘ludicrous pleasures’ that could only become emotional, spiritual, mental, financial, physical, and psychological liabilities. They are a lot smarter and wiser than you may have even realized. Now I dare you to ask a woman: would you rather hook up or engage in serious mindfulness? Then come back to me if I’m lying.
- Sexual attraction means spiritual connection. Yes, it’s a weird world now. This is an enlightenment era. Consciousness has ignited to its superlative capacity. Some conspiracy theories can now be proven to be true. Challenge a woman’s curiosity and she ‘may’ consider opening up — either her heart or ‘her legs’.
- Women measure up their worth with their moral standards. They understand that sex is an ‘energy exchange’ that has spiritual consequences. You can never convince a woman to sacrifice ‘herself’ all for an orgasm — because honestly, she can satisfy herself alone way much better than basking in bed with a man or whomever she even fancies.
So ‘Netflix and Chill’ sounds innocent until ‘euphemism pricks’ have decided that its initial reputation must be as wild as fictional nymphomaniacs.
The nerve.
I can’t.