Nice Guys Really Don't Finish Last

A couple of weeks ago, one of my favorite YouTube stars made a video about how "nice guys" don't really finish last. The basis of Jenna Marbles's video was nice guys go for girls out of their league with which they have nothing in common, are rejected, and then become all emo and pouty.

I was shocked and appalled at the comments left by these "nice guys"!! They were vile!! One responded to the comment I posted (which I am going to discuss here) and called me a variety of unsavory names. I told him that maybe if he stopped playing Call of Duty 18 hours a day and developed some people skills, he wouldn't come across as so repulsive. I regretted that because it only fueled his pathetic little fire.

If by some slim chance in hell any of the "nice guys" who left nasty comments on that video reads this blog, the only thing I have to say to you is you're not nice. You're actually quite horrible.

So while I agree with Jenna's statement, I disagree with her reasons. I think nice guys don't finish last because they go from "nice guy" to "creeper." So really, they are a "creeper who finishes last."

This sounds cruel and was the reason Mr. Call of Duty felt it necessary to call me names, but hear me out.

There are lots of nice guys in the world. Sweet, loyal, friendly, etc. Their mothers and grandmothers have told them what a catch they are and any girl would be lucky to have them. However these guys lack a very important quality: People Skills.

Like Mr. Call of Duty, they are petted by strong female relatives, who may or may not be crazy themselves, but lack the ability to have a conversation with a non-familial female. If/when a new girl approaches this "nice guy" and, God forbid, gives him positive attention, his brain starts to go into overload.

This is the unfortunate trigger that sends Nice Guy into Creeperville.

He starts to become very clingy. Always asks the girl who she is with, what she's doing. Calls every fifteen minutes and texts every two. Next thing you know, you catch him going through your dirty laundry sniffing your underwear.

Now, he's a Creep. What do we do with creeps? We call the police. Or, at the very least, change our phone numbers.