My girlfriend got a haircut recently. When she came over, she asked right away, “What do you think of my hair?” Here are the Top 5 Worst Things I Could’ve Said:

5) What haircut?
Ladies want their manes noticed, so by totally ignoring her re-styling, you’re telling her that you hate it. Anticipated reaction: She’ll cry.

4) It looks fine.
Fine is totally not fine. Fine is an unwanted present at Christmas, not a fifty dollar haircut. Anticipated reaction: She won’t speak to you for an hour.

3) Can you get your money back?
Women spend serious cash on their coif, and they sure as hell don’t want to be told that it was worthless. Anticipated reaction: She’ll call her BFF over - the one with absolutely no cosmetological experience - and they’ll spend two hours in the bathroom with a pair of scissors and a bottle of wine. For the result, see #1.

2) Well, it’ll grow back eventually.
This is like telling her that she gets an A for effort in bed. Anticipated reaction: Nothing… until three months from now when she brings this up in the middle of an otherwise innocuous argument.

1) You look like a beautiful lesbian.
Your girlfriend is obviously not a lesbian, nor does she purposely want to resemble Rosie O’Donnell. Anticipated reaction: She’ll shave her head to spite you.

Tip for Guys: When she asks the dreaded haircut question, pack your bags and disappear for a few weeks. After the dust has settled, return with caution.

Women Be Trippin everywhere and all the time. Here’s the next chapter in our list of 101 Ways Women Be Trippin.

I blame MY BEST FRIEND’S WEDDING for this one. In the movie, Julia Roberts and the main dude in the film make an agreement that if neither one is married by the time they turn 28, then they’ll turn around and marry each other.

Ever since then, women have been setting wedding-deadlines. “I absolutely need to get married before I turn 30.” “I must be married before 32.”

I had a boss once who was so obsessed with getting engaged before her 30th birthday that her then-boyfriend proposed to her the day before she hit the big 3-o. He apparently didn’t want to make that commitment until the absolute last moment, like James Bond waiting until the timer reads 00:01 before disarming the nuclear weapon.

Neenah, from 52 Weeks 2 Find Him, has created a similar - and equally bogus - deadline. She’s giving herself one year to find her soulmate, which is like giving yourself a month to win the lottery, after which you’ll never buy a lotto ticket as long as you live.

I think that setting an unreasonable deadline to find your life partner is about as sensible as getting a haircut with dynamite. It’s not like normal no-pressure-at-all marriages are surefire successes to begin with (i.e. 1 out of 2 marriages ends in divorce). But hey, whatever Neenah wants, Neenah gets. Hope she gets a dude who has no problem whatsoever meeting and marrying a woman within nine months of knowing her. That’s a perfectly fair expectation!

Dr. Karen Pine, a psychologist at the University of Hertfordshire, has found that women over-shop and over-spend right before their body turns into the elevator from The Shining. Hit by the combo of extra hormones and pre-shark-week bloating, women in the survey couldn’t help but go on a shopping spree to lift their spirits.

The study also found that the stronger the PMS, the stronger the impulse to buy, buy, buy. For one week out of the month, a woman’s uterus essentially becomes Jim Kramer’s Mad Money, smashing stuff and recommending potentially unwise purchases.

Tip for guys: Shopping = egg-dropping. If your lady suddenly goes on a shopping spree, then she’s in top notch fertility mode. Enter at your own risk.

Fake is a word invented by women. They’ve been passing it along, mother to daughter, for hundreds of years. Now, it’s pervaded all aspects of a woman’s life: home, work, play. They think that by biting the bullet and faking it, they’ve martyred themselves for some higher purpose. Well, that’s complete bullshit, and here are the Top 5 Ways Women Fake It.

#5: “Of Course They’re Real”
In the last hundred years, fake breasts have gone from a crazy Czech experiment to an American phenomenon, with everybody who’s anybody getting their mojumbos elevated and enlarged. But it’s no secret. The rest of the world can tell when a woman’s wearing a fake set of bouncehouses, so there’s really no use lying about it. It’s also worth noting that studies have shown that women with breast implants are way crazier than women without.

#4: “Oh yes! Oh yes! Ohhhzsjoiam!!!!!”

Look, if she’s not into it, she should just speak up.

#3: “Sure, I’d Love to Watch Terminator 4″
Women have it in their head that if they pretend to want to see a movie, it will somehow make the moviegoing experience more enjoyable. That’s not true. I’d rather not see a movie at all then have to hear a girl sigh, scoff, and snore in a movie theater. Guys don’t pretend to want to see Confessions of a Shopaholic, so women shouldn’t have to pretend to want to see Crank 2.

#2: “I’m On My Period”
This one defies the Geneva Convention of Sexual Protocol. If a woman invokes sexual parlée (”I’m on my period”), then all foreplay ceases immediately. There is no greater buzzkill than a reference to shark week, and girls know it. When they abuse this arrangement - when they invoke parlée without any actual period in sight - it’s just cruel. Again (see #4) if she doesn’t want to bone, she should just say so, instead of skirting around it with some bogus lie.

#1: “_____ Is My Best Friend in the Whole World”
If you go by a woman’s claims, she probably has two hundred best friends. A hundred thirty of those “best friends” are simultaneously sworn enemies. Doesn’t it get exhausting to keep track of all those frenemies? Every fake-friendship comes with its obligations - birthday parties and girls’ nights that she doesn’t want to go to, long phone calls and coffee dates that she doesn’t care about. Who needs the stress?

Women Be Trippin everywhere and all the time. Here’s the next chapter in our list of 101 Ways Women Be Trippin.

Last weekend, I was on a pub crawl in Hermosa Beach, where dozens of drunk ex-greeks crawl weekly. The girls who organized this particular crawl decided that the theme should be Cowboys and Indians, since they were from Texas. (I know. I don’t quite get the connection either).

I started talking to this group of girls from another pub crawl, with a Snuggie theme. That’s right: On the hottest day of the year, a dozen girls go on a pub crawl wearing a blanket with sleeves. Needless to say, they were really, really sweaty.

And I wish I had a single to put in a g-string for every time I heard about a themed party where the idea was to dress like a stripper (see Halloween)… From “CEOs and Office Hoes” to “Golf Pros and Tennis Hoes” to “Pimps and Hoes”, I think you get that trend.

Or even worse is when the idea is to be unattractive. Ugly Sweater Parties, Mustaches and Mullets, Red (neck) White (trash) and Blue (collar) aren’t really going to make us look all that good…

And then there are just the boring ones. The White Party. 80s. Mardi Gras. Toga. Luau. Survivor. Show some creativity.

The point is, dressing up can be fun. But if you’re going to do a theme, make it good. A good theme should be creative, and fun and practical. Not just an excuse to look dumb. So if you can’t come up with something good, don’t make me look ridiculous for dressing up and don’t get mad at me if I don’t.  I’ll be happy to come to any regular birthday, goodbye, housewarming, retirement, non-denominational religious or national holiday party or any other excuse to get drunk together.  Let’s just be smart about the theme.

If you saw Juno or Nick and Nora’s Infinite Playlist or What Happens in Vegas, you unwittingly deposited money into the coffers of The Fempire.

The Fempire is a sorority of four screenwriters, the most famous of which is Diablo Cody, the writer behind Juno. I didn’t like the movie Juno, for much the same reason that I don’t like The Fempire. The movie was a thinly veiled love letter from Diablo Cody to America:

Dear America,
I’m cooler than you are.
Love, Diablo.

And now, all that self-congratulatory hipness has multiplied itself by four in the form of The Fempire. I don’t care that these four women get together and have naked writing parties. I don’t care that Diablo Cody still gets butterflies when Steven Spielberg calls her personally. I don’t care that they rent a limo and get drunk when one of their movies opens.

What bothers me is the 21st century “Girl Power” attitude, as if they were the screenwriter-trustees of the Spice Girls’ legacy. They’re not.

A friend of mine (5′8″, 115 lbs) recently came back from England with a story worth re-telling:

I was walking down the street, when I almost got hit by a car. I wasn’t paying attention, and it had to swerve to miss me. As it passed, the driver was, like, “Get out of the way, cow!” I cried for the rest of the day, until someone told me that, in England, cow is a way of calling someone stupid, not fat. After that, I felt way better.

This brings up an interesting point. Every girl knows that there are two insults so atrocious, there’s no way to come back from them. Fat and Slut. Yet, whenever girls are put into a corner, they lash out like giant scorpions, calling each other fatties and sluts, whales and whores, porkers and tramps.

Can’t we all just get along?

Recently, conservative radio host Laura Ingaham called Meghan McCain (Sen. John McCain’s daughter) a “plus-sized model.” I really have no opinion of Meghan McCain one way or the other, but what the hell did she do to warrant being called a fatty? And also, Laura Ingraham talks for a living, and she couldn’t come up with a wittier insult than “plus-sized model”?

Ladies need to cool down their rhetoric, or John McCain is gonna go P.O.W. on their asses.

My girlfriend hates every single one of my ex-girlfriends. She’s never met them. She has no real reason to hate them. But, for reasons I’ll never understand, my girlfriend’s blood boils at the mere idea that I dared to date another woman during the years before I met my current girlfriend.

Where does this obsessive jealousy come from? In a quick survey of my guy-friends, none of them had more than a passing curiosity about their girlfriends’ exes. But for every girl I talked to, the topic of his ex-girlfriend is super-taboo. It’s the topic that’s most likely to lead to an argument, and I’m talking about couples who have been dating for years. Despite all that time, his ex-gf is still a sore subject.

Tip for guys: To combat this, guys should utilize a proportionate response, i.e. flipping the fuck out whenever she brings up her ex-boyfriend.

If she runs into her ex at Starbucks, break some shit after she tells you about it. He pops up on her mini-feed? Find a puppy and punt it across the street. He still on her speed dial because she forgot to take him off? Lock yourself in the bathroom and cry for hours.

Women Be Trippin everywhere and all the time. Here’s the next chapter in our list of 101 Ways Women Be Trippin.

I always wear pants with pockets because I have things to carry with me. Keys, wallet, and phone. That’s it. If it were socially acceptable to have a manpurse, I don’t think I’d have enough stuff to put in it. But women are quite the opposite. A quick gander into a purse will make you think she’s a Boy Scout, prepared for anything.

Of course, there’s the expected items: Wallet, checkbook, pen, keys, sunglasses, camera, change, tampons, gum, touch-up makeup, hair ties. But when you delve deeper, there exist some things that leave you with one word… “Why?”

First, let’s start with pills. I’m not talking birth control. I’m talking birth control AND Aleve AND Aspirin AND cough medicine AND Midol AND multivitamins AND cough drops. Why not just take them at home? Or pack them when you’re sick?

Let’s move on to hygiene. Toothbrush and toothpaste are a staple for a girl-on-the-go. You never know when you’ll come across bad breath or crashing at a “friend’s” place. Don’t forget about sanitizing wipes and antibacterial lotion. These are used after you’ve been shaking hands with the whole finance department, or just to wipe down your steering wheel because your hands were probably a little bit germy. Then there’s Tide Pens and Shout wipes. …because, you know, life as a girl can be pretty messy.

You never know when a girl is going to get hungry on-the-go. So of course snacks in your purse are a must. A good on-the-go snack is a granola bar, a bag of almonds, 100 calorie packs of your favorite salty or sweet snack, or Gogurt.

Beyond that are the strange anomalies: rare, although they do exist. That extra pair of underwear in case of a late-night hookup. That extra pair of shoes (ok, how big IS your purse?) because you never know if the party will require heels or flats. Splenda. Seriously. And the ever-elusive yet hilarious hot sauce or salad dressing. These girls MUST have their food spicy and their salad dressed.

Purses have become a magical bag, a la Felix the cat, out of which ANYTHING can be pulled. They’re getting bigger and bigger. So much so that I’ve seen luggage-rolling purses. Ladies, it’s too much. Keep a granola in the car. Keep lipgloss in your pocket and save yourself the backache. You don’t need this much stuff.

My best friend’s name is Dave. I don’t know his last girlfriend’s name. I vaguely remember what she looks like, but I really couldn’t tell you what her deal was. And if Dave and his current girlfriend ever part, I’m sure I’ll totally forget about this one in about a year or so. I’m talking completely forgotten, like that movie with Julianne Moore.

Women, on the other hand, never forget their best friend’s ex, because they’re too busy hating him and everything that had to do with his stupid, jerk face.

While the happy couple is together, her friends gush about how great he is. What a catch! He’s so smart and funny. “Mr. Right.”

The second they split up, the ladies pounce on him like he’s Scar at the end of Lion King. He becomes the asshole. The heartless monster that broke their best friend’s heart; no matter what relationship they had with him. These friends convince each other how terrible he is and make sure every supermarket run-in and party they see him at, is as awkward as possible. So that she makes it clear that he’s done something terribly wrong.  What’s with the about-face?

Guys, on the other hand, are up-front. If we don’t like a buddy’s girlfriend, we tell him right away. And when he breaks up with her, we say, “Bummer,” and move on. My best friends have exes that have done terrible things: cheated, lied about it, got caught. But do we hate her? Meh. We just don’t care that much. Hating takes too much effort for something that’s easier to just ignore.