Ask a Little Blind Girl, Part 2

Old woman at desk, 1967

Image via Wikipedia

It’s time for another installment of Ask a Little Blind Girl, because there just wasn’t enough crazy in the first go round.  This time, we have some really burning questions that I know you’ve all been wondering about.  I have actually been asked each of these questions–the first two I get pretty frequently.  The last one was just recently posed, but it’s an issue of such magnitude that I’m throwing it in right away, and I think you’ll understand why when you get to it.  So here we go:

 

1.  Little Blind Girl, I like to go out at night, but I can’t wear contacts and I’m too vain to wear my glasses.  How can I tell if a guy is hot if I can’t actually see him?

–Myopic in Manhattan

Dear Myopic in Manhattan:  Yeah, blind and vain is a really frustrating combination.  But if you’ve conquered the questions of how to put on eyeliner when you can’t see what you’re doing and how to navigate a crowded club in four inch heels with no depth perception, this one’s fairly easy.

Respect M.E.

Image via Wikipedia

Guys will treat girls as crappily as they can get away with.  The cuter the guy, the more he can get away with, because girls as a rule will let him.  Lesson 1 to take from all this:  Girls, grow a f*cking spine and stop putting up with this sh*t.  Lesson 2 to take from all this:  if a guy is treating you really nicely and is showing lots of courtesy, he’s either really ugly, happily married, or gay.

If a guy is treating you like you’re something he found on the bottom of his shoe after he walked the dog, you don’t have to know what he looks like to know he’s hot.  But trust me, he’s not worth it.  You put a lot of effort into getting all prettied up to go out, spend your time with someone who appreciates that.  If you never put your glasses back on, you’ll never know the difference.

2.  Little Blind Girl, why do you spend so long in the bathroom getting ready if you can’t even see what you look like?  What’s the point?

–Definitely a Guy in Way Too Much of a Hurry

Dear Definitely a Guy in Way Too Much of a Hurry:  You have completely misunderstood the point of the bathroom ritual for girls.  This is not just about trying not to look like death warmed over, thereby ensuring that I will appear unprofessional and a poor employment prospect, and it’s also not about attracting guys (although that would be nice) or impressing my girlfriends (who honest to God don’t care).  This is my meditation.

See: www.falundafa.org/eng/exercises.html

Image via Wikipedia

I could sit around in a lotus position humming for hours, or I could make myself pretty by doing unbelievably damaging things to my hair and putting acid directly on my face.  I choose acid.  Mostly because I find the lotus position incredibly uncomfortable, but also because I like the steam that comes from my curling iron when I’m frying the crap out of my hair.  I like to put on some soothing music, light some candles, maybe have a fruit smoothie, and coat my face in pounds of makeup so no one knows what I really look like.  This has the added benefit that when I turn to my life of crime, no one will be able to give a good description of me.  Bonus!  This is my “me” time.  Just let me have it.

 

3.  Dear Little Blind Girl:  Who’s sexier, Johnny Depp in full Captain Jack Sparrow regalia or Benedict Cumberbatch reading erotic poetry?

–Anonymous

Dear Anonymous:  Oh, my God, why do you hate me?  I have no idea.  It’s like a paradox, like two things with this much sexy can’t exist at the same time or the universe will explode.  It’s just not possible, and yet–does anyone know if Benedict Cumberbatch has actually read any erotic poetry?  We may want to sign a treaty forbidding him to do it, just in case it ends up being too much sexy for one world.

Benedict Cumberbatch

Benedict Cumberbatch (Photo credit: honeyfitz)

And are we talking about really good erotic poetry?  I mean, Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow is the ultimate in visual sexy…but as a Little Blind Girl, I think I’m going to have to go with Benedict Cumberbatch reading erotic poetry.  I never thought the day would come.  Sorry, Johnny.  It’s not you, it’s me.  If anyone knows of any recordings of Benedict Cumberbatch reading erotic poetry, let me know.  Please.  Really, please.

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