Women Suck At Drunken Storytelling
Women suck at drunken storytelling. Stories they depict as “crazy” are typically pretty mundane.
Usually, her “unbelievably crazy time I got drunk” story goes painfully like this:
Oh my God…this one time my friend Becky and I got really drunk and stuff. You know like, we were really wasted. We must have drunk like four beers each! Like, oh my God, it was crazy because we started laughing and stumbling all over the place. It got so crazy that she and I danced on the bar. On the bar! Like SO many people were looking at us. Then I got dizzy and I went to the bathroom and vomited. Becky was holding my hair. It was so crazy.
If you’ve had any real experience making poor decisions with alcohol, you know there is nothing “crazy” about that story. None of those common events are worthy of being noted and discussed. It’s on a par with talking about the size and shape of the shit you took today: Everyone knows what you’re talking about, but no one wants to hear about it. Same principle applies with your stories about being drunk: They must be truly unique and outlandish.
A wild drunken night for most women is a mellow Tuesday night for us men. It’s simple biology, because women weigh less and thus are able to consume less alcohol and pass out sooner. Also, women are physically weaker so they’re less of a destructive force when they turn chaotic. The lack of testosterone in their veins makes them less physically aggressive and less likely to get into a fight or confrontation, though they are bigger shit-talkers behind people’s backs.
While men can talk for years about their stupid drunk glory days, what can women talk about that will make them nearly as interesting?
Sex.
Women probably have as many, if not more, I-acted-like-a-whore stories than men have I-was-a-drunk-idiot stories. The thing is you hardly ever hear about them. Most females will hint at their sexual promiscuity, but very few are bold enough to speak about the time she behaved like a total slut and fucked five guys at the same time and then went to her boyfriend’s and fucked him, too. Or how she met some random guy at a concert and sucked his cock inside the Port-A-Potty after talking to him for five minutes. This is something they only tell their close female friends, not something they blurt out at a party.
Perhaps men are to blame for this. Even in this era of rising feminism and equality, we tend to have a problem with hearing a woman openly talk about her sex life. We really don’t want to hear about or acknowledge the dozens of cocks that have passed through a woman’s orifices. But hot damn, doesn’t it make for good reading? It’s far more interesting to hear about your sexual hijinks than your pathetic excuse of a drunk story. Yet in a Catch-22, the thing that will make you more interesting will also make us less likely to take you seriously as a potential partner. Sure, we’ll fuck your brains out and use you for your body. But make you a girlfriend or wife after learning about all the cocks that have passed through you like dirty Oldsmobiles through a car wash? I bet a vast majority of men will take issue with it, though there are plenty who couldn’t care either way.
Of course there is more to storytelling than talking about drinking and fucking, and there are plenty of female speakers and writers who are damn good at being funny without talking about those subjects. The real complaint is that very few women’s drunken debauchery stories can hold a candle to a man’s drunken debauchery stories. It’s like being forced to a watch a Little League baseball game when you really want to watch a Major League one. If you want to speak about a “really crazy night,” tell us about that time you fucked the entire football team and then showed up to church the next morning reeking of booze and semen. Oh my God, now that’s crazy. 
