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Screw buying you a draaank

I was riding around in my van the other day listening to T-Pain’s “Buy You a Drink,” and I got to thinking. (Nullus.)

On most Friday nights, when I get off from the BGM, I like to stop at a local watering hole and drown my sorrows in Budweiser. I used to go to these places that were frequented by other kids who were roughly my same age, but I had to cut that shit out, because I was tired of being bothered.

Especially here in Creve Coeur you’d run the risk of running into someone you went to school with, and then you’d have to go through the pain of explaining that you work for a magazine, but you don’t really work for a magazine. Basically, you get paid a handful of nickels each month to crack dick jokes for people who can hardly read.

Or, worst case scenario, you might end up with some fucked up-looking West County beast wanting you to buy them a drink. Then, if you’re like me, you have to look like the asshole, because the bottom line is that I’m not coming out of my pocket to buy some broad a drink unless I think I might score with her, and even then I’m not gonna feel especially good about it.

And I may be in a especially tough position because, let’s face it, I’m not the best-looking guy in the world, but at the same time I look like I might have a little money in my pocket. As a fat guy, I just plain don’t look right in cheap clothes. Plus, I think men who have lived a life of relative comfort give off a certain aura that women can pick up on. Seriously.

So I’m sure girls see me and think to themselves, “Here’s a guy who’s obviously going to have a hard time making it with girls anyway. Maybe I can fool him into thinking he’s got a shot with me and get this poor bastard to come out of his pocket.”

And the worst part about is that I get approached by a lot of broads who just really aren’t very good-looking. I mean, if a girl was really all that, I’d probably be willing to blow up to $20 on her, even if I knew I wasn’t about to hit it. It’d almost be like going to a strip club, except you’d never get quite close enough to know how her vagine smells…

But of course this is never the case. Instead, I get these broads who must be laboring under the impression that, since I’m not particularly desirable myself, I should be happy with woman who might have a bit of a body hair issue, or could stand to lose 40 pounds, or is secretly already in her 30s or some shit. If this is the case, then obviously they’ve got a lot to learn about the way a man’s mind works.

Of course if I was T-Pain none of this would even be an issue. Nah, I’ve seen that VH1 special on video hoes enough times to know that once you reach a certain level of celebrity in this country, you no longer have to worry about spending money on a broad in order to get her to bang you. Because there’s plenty of girls out there who would be more than happy to bang you just to say that they did it.

And yet, if you notice, so many of T-Pain’s songs have to do with spending money on women. What gives? I mean, obviously he’s famous enough these days that you’d think he’d have the option to keep his money to himself, where it belongs; and he’s not so old that he could even know the desperation that causes a man to reach for his wallet, unlike some of these Indian guys you see in clubs over on the East Side.

My guess: T-Pain secretly wishes he was a woman.

Think about it: not only does the guy have long hair, but he’s got highlights in it, which is just teh ghey. And lest we forget, there was that video earlier this year in which he congratulates Ray J on the size of his “meat.” In retrospect, I should’ve known something was up back then, but hip-hop has gotten so teh ghey these days, it’s hard to tell if a guy is a for real fudge or just really fashionable. Nullus.

In that sense, it’s no wonder that T-Pain sings through a vocoder more or less exclusively. It makes his voice sound that much more girlish. And the reason he’s able to sing about so many things that would only ever even occur to a women (what kind of man do you know who’s gonna go around announcing how much money he’s got into the bank?) is because he’s able to understand the way a woman’s mind works.

I guess what I’m trying to say here is that it’s just plain not in a man’s nature to be all excited about the idea of spending money on a woman, even if it’s just for $4 worth of the kind of shit women drink. If I had the means, I’m not saying I definitely wouldn’t myself (as long as I got some stank!), but I wouldn’t be going around singing about it either.

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