Tuesday, May 25, 2010

How to be a selfish jerk.

I have a tutorial for you today, on how to be a selfish jerk.

  1. Con a nice man into marrying you, loving you, and sticking with you for years and years. If you can get him to care more about your comfort and well-being than his own, even better. The nicer and more wonderful he is, the bigger of a jerk you can be to balance his niceness.
  2. Announce one evening while watching the news that you are going to make yourself a glass of chocolate milk.
  3. When the dear man answers that he would love a glass as well, you coldly and unfeelingly reply with, "Too bad. Get it yourself." If you can throw in a laugh, as though you were kidding, it might help soften the jerkness of the statement. But you will know in your heart (if you had one) that you are not kidding. Because you're a jerk. And you say this although you know full well that if the tables were turned he would prepare you a glass in a heart beat.
  4. Retrieve the milk from the refrigerator and see that the gallon only has enough for one glass. Not to worry though, there is another, brand-new gallon waiting to be opened in the fridge. There will be plenty of milk, however the issue is that you find the last bit of milk in a gallon gross.
  5. This is where you will need to make a decision: you can pull out a new gallon and "pretend" you "didn't" "see" the other gallon, or you can selfishly pour your husband's milk for him, in a false act of kindness, in order to ensure that you don't end up drinking the last of the gallon that you find gross.
  6. This next step requires some intricate timing: when the man turns his back for a moment to return the Nesquik to the cabinet, you pour him the last bit of grody milk, then open a new gallon for yourself.
  7. When the man confronts you about it, asking in good humor if you really had just done that, because he knows how weird you are about food, you deny it. Vehemently. No, you didn't purposely pour him the milk that you find gross. Of course not. You would never do such a thing.
  8. And when he goes on about his evening in a forgiving and kind manner, your denial turns into outrage, "How dare you accuse me of such a thing."
  9. And as he innocently laughs it off, your outrage turns into a sheepish admission of guilt, but with excuses, "But I know you don't mind the last bit of milk in the gallon."
  10. Then you laugh uncontrollably out of embarrassment of being caught at your under-handed strategic move to get your dear husband to drink the last of the grody milk. Now this part is key: try hard not to laugh, because the harder you try the more you will laugh like a lunatic. And as you are in the throes of laughter you will realize that you are laughing alone. But being a selfish jerk, you don't care.
  11. Then you enjoy your spoils (glass of chocolate milk) with a tinge of guilt. However, the more you practice this, the less guilt you will feel. Just keep at it. Eventually you will feel no guilt at all for being a selfish jerk.
  12. Then you go to bed and tell your husband that you love him, pretending the the whole incident never happened.


  1. Hillarious. SO hillarious. Loves!

  2. This is something I would do. Have done. I hate the last bit of milk in the gallon. Great post!

  3. You are so funny. Yes, the last bit of milk in the gallon is DISGUSTING!

  4. Wow, you just described what happened at our house last night. Weird.

  5. You wrote the tutorial and unfortunately I wrote the unabridged manual....nice husbands who speak Spanish are so hard to come by nowadays....xox

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  7. You know, it is only gross if you know about the other gallon. You are totally in your right to pour him the last of the container because he didn't know about the other at the time.


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