I’m A Girl Who’s One Of The Boys, Written By One Of The Boys
By: Ashley Chen
Tags: Girls, Satire, Writer, Movies, Humor

I’m pretty AND I watch ESPN!

Photo by ELEVATE from Pexels

‘Sup? I’m a girl who’s one of the boys, written by one of the boys. You’ve probably seen me participating in a spitting contest with the rest of the boys in a dude comedy. Check this out, I’m also a hot babe who can shotgun beers. Zoom in on my white, booze-soaked crop top.

Yea, I can hold down my liquor despite being the size of a Brandy Melville mannequin. And yea, I’m naturally stunning and fashionable. What even is shopping and wearing make-up? I’ve never done any of those things, yet I still look like an airbrushed Cara Delevingne from a Vogue magazine.

I shovel grub into my mouth like a competitive eating champ too. Boys think it’s so awesome that I have a hearty appetite. Good thing I don’t gain an ounce after inhaling all that high-calorie junk food. I have the appetite of a 7 ft tall athlete and the metabolism of a 7 year old child. It’s probably because I’m also played by a svelte actress who had to starve herself for the role.

When I was a baby, I loved rolling in mud and roughhousing all 10 of my older brothers. That’s why I’m so good at bantering with the lads. When I’m being funny, I often say quips, like, “Can you boys stop comparing sizes?”; “Uh, is your ego that big because you have to compensate for something small you have?”; ”Is your name Richard? Because you’re a Dick.”; “Is your name Moby? Because you’re a Dick.” Yea, they’re all penis-related. I’m pandering to a demographic here!

Other ways I indulge the fellas are by randomly mentioning I do anal. Oh yea, I’m a chick who’s real willy nilly with the willies! My cavalier takes on sex offer no purpose to my character building, but hey, I’m pandering to a certain masculine crowd over here!

I’m usually a tough broad who wants nothing to do with romance either, yet somehow I’m always handed an unnecessary love interest which forms into a half-baked relationship. Good! I literally cannot function in life without being attached to some mediocre bloke who’s only got the “main character” title going for him. His name is usually Jake, or Nick, or Jick.

Cut to when Jick finally realizes that I, his female bestie, had been The One this whole time. He’ll take off my glasses or see me snuggly napping with my hair down or chilling with a baby in scenes to realize that I actually have a soft, feminine side concealed under my rugged, tomboyish side. Then he’ll be like, “Now you’re proper wifey material. Let’s get married.” And I’ll be like, “Thank you for solely thinking of me in marriageable or un-marriageable terms! I accept!’”

Sometimes I’m like, is my entire life’s purpose to seek male validation? Am I a tool used to perpetually impress the male gaze? Do these writers who puppeteer my actions understand they’re doing more harm than good? Wow… suddenly, I feel sad and angry. But no crying allowed! Why? Because I’m a real guy’s gal who can’t possibly display volatile emotions otherwise they’ll be like, she’s an annoying bitch. I sensually shove a hot dog down my throat to swallow the pain.

I continue hanging with my testosterone-heavy squad because there are no girls to mingle with in my line of sight. Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever met another girl before. I think they’re an endangered species, or just really good at hide-and-seek, or just excluded from the script. I’ve never had a lengthy conversation with a woman. Do they also live to serve the man?

Honestly, I’m grateful to the team of men who wrote me. Without them, I’d probably have three-dimensionality, which is un-resourceful. Why waste three of something when you can have one? See, as a girl who’s one of the bros, I’m also not the brightest. But at least it makes my male counterparts look better. And that’s what I’m all about.