Chapter 1: The Beginning

I’ve decided to stick to Selena’s advice and keep blessing the lot of you with my endless supply of jerkdom (Jerk Wisdom) and tell my stories.

To further understand my experiences, you’ll need to understand my upbringing. I grew up in the west - yes yes, that’s where the “infidels” come from - and I used to visit our beloved middle east for summers and vacations with our family. Around the age of 15 or 16, I met a girl called Jessica. Man, was I head over heels for the damn girl. I mean, it was more of puppy love than actual love. I was 15 for Christ’s sake! NO JUDGING! Let’s just say that I made a very bold move to stay in the middle east for a year in high school, despite that my family was giving me hell for it, and I made it for her.

I experienced the wonderful phase of dating, HONEYMOON PHASE! The late night phone calls which of course included the “You hang up, no you hang up first” crap, the morning wake up calls which was basically me telling her how amazing it is to hear her voice in the morning even though it sounded like someone choking a couple of pandas in there, the time-spending together like we’re fucking Siamese twins, the making out in the movie theater (again NO JUDGING!), the making out on the street, the making out in the car. Let’s just say, there was a lot of making out, and the reason behind is that I have just discovered making out and I was exploring that wonderful creature that made me relate to every word I heard in love songs and every romantic movie ever made.

And considering the amount of making out that was involved in this relationship, my mind was set: “This is the girl I am gonna marry. I have found the love of my life, and the person I want to spend my life with. How on earth would people bitch about being heartbroken and that they can’t find true love”. I was totally convinced that it was my good luck that blessed me with my “Soulmate” from the first relationship. And what do you do when you’re that sure that you’ve found the person you’re gonna spend your life with? You introduce her to the family! (Yes, I know. I was fuckin’ retarded back then). And naturally, my family who doesn’t like anyone (and probably hate themselves as well) actually liked her and all of a sudden she was over at our house all the time. Oh, man! I miss the “Jess, can you come in here and ‘Help me pack’ or ‘Help me find my orange socks’ (I SAID NO JUDGING!!)”. 

I have failed to mention that Jess - despite the fact that she was younger - was a major player. The damn girl would dance in fuckin’ circles around you and juggle a couple of relationships while she’s doing it. I’d wake up, call her. I’d go for a dump, call her. I’d call her before, during and after I eat. If my ass needed scratching, I’d call her to let her know. I was probably the clingiest, most annoying, obnoxious “thing” you can possibly endure. I would have broken up with me back then, and breaking up with me she did. We’re on the phone one day and she’s like she can’t take it anymore and she needs a “break”, little did I know back then that a break means an actual break up (I found out a couple of days later that she was actually seeing another guy already).

At that point of time, I was done with finals and ready to head back home. So I packed up my stuff, got my box of tissues (for my tears, not the other thing you perverts!) and hopped on a plane. I went back loathing everything that was female and can’t help but wonder - that until this day I can’t find an answer for - How could such beautiful creatures be so evil? I went into, what I thought back then, was depression. I curled up in my room, listened to sad heartbreak songs and sulked. That went on for a couple of weeks and then I decided to get a job at the local bar (A lot of stories in upcoming posts about what a turning point that bar was for my dating life) to help me “get over her”. 

By then, I have made up my mind; I HATE WOMEN. I am not gonna date again and I am never gonna fall in love again. Why would I fall in love with someone who would eventually shatter my heart and walk all over it?

 And here’s what I’ve learned from my first experience:

1. The first couple of weeks of a relationship are the most fun (No shit, Sherlock!!).
2. Your first love will never be the one you end up spending your life with later on.
3. DON’T introduce anyone to the family unless you’ve been dating for over a year.
4. Don’t be a dumbass and blurt words like “I love you” the second you feel any unfamiliar feeling. Sometimes, it’s just being horny, you dumb fuck!
5. Space is highly recommended. She doesn’t need to know that you exploded in the bathroom like a lactose intolerant does after drinking a carton of full cream milk. 
6. Farting around her isn’t cool either, she isn’t one of your guy friends. 
7. Never fully-trust a girl, or anyone for that matter. They are most likely to disappoint you. 
8. In every relationship, there’s one person that cares and puts more effort into it than the other. You learn that the hard way.

To sum this up, you should be aware now that no jerk is born that way. Jerks were nice guys once and most probably got burnt by a jerk. After that relationship, I got a little bitter and starting loathing the entire female gender. You get over that, but it kills a little tiny part of you with every serious break up. 


JC

The Jerk Code: An Introduction

I assume if you’re reading this you’re here for one of two reasons: You’re a woman who has been burnt by a jerk and you are dying to understand why, or you’re a jerk yourself and you want to know if you’re doing it right. Either way, I couldn’t care less.

I’ve never been one to care much for writing, but my friend Selena has been insisting that I’ve got something to say for my past experiences with these so-called creatures that have been hailing from Venus. I’d say some of them are Satan’s children and some deserve to be living on Mount Olympus among the gods. Considering my track record, I’ve had my share of both and sadly, I’ve had less experiences with the latter.

I’ve been called many wonderful things in my time: A player, a dick, a womanizer and occasionally, a charmer. My favorite name though, as you’ll grow soon to find out why, has always been jerk. And let me tell you something: Us jerks are awesome. Everyone thinks they understand us but no one really does.

Don’t try to rationalize your own experiences through mine. Don’t take my tricks and try to pull them off. You will fail if you try to do either and you’ll find yourself down the line asking why you ever bothered reading The Jerk Code.

Disclaimer: This blog will contain obscene content and is not recommended for the common wuss. Or the crying feminist. Get over yourself.

Here’s to all the fellow jerks who get it and all the women who never will. Welcome. Welcome to The Jerk Code.

JC