How to Decode a Millennial Guy’s Language
“What the hell is a millennial?” he scoffs cleverly.
At the diner he stares glumly at his plate. “We’re starving African kids” means “since we had to get the plain eggs and toast without bacon and potatoes we might as well go to a third-world country and die because we’re pieces of shit for complaining about it.”
Your new beau means well but grew up on MP3 players and video games. Grunting is his favorite pastime and blog headlines are his literary Proust.
“I’m more of a feminist than you,” is his polite way of apologizing for calling you a bitch when you freely divulged your disparate opinions.
“I’m bleeding out of my asshole” is his way of saying “I fell on my snowboard and I’m wearing a diaper.”
“I have cancer” means “my mom breastfed me until I was 6.”
“I’m moving to Antarctica” is his unique way of saying “I’m weird and sad, probably have Aspergers like Einstein and I also love cardigans.”
“No” means “please give me a hand job.”
“I need to buy a phone card,” means “Sorry I came in you but I don’t have money for Plan B.”
“I have to focus on me right now,” means “I will find every excuse possible not to work or pay rent and you will feel bad for me at the same time. And what is Plan B?
If he talks about bears he’s suppressing childhood fears. “The Revenant was amazing, I can really relate to it” translates to “I am fierce too. I once had a gay experience. Please do my laundry.”
He’s still 6 on the inside, watches crime stories because he’s misunderstood like Charles Bronson, and he wears beard oil in case he ever is able to grow a beard. He misses Inspector Gadget. He wants a donut.
So stay calm, my friend. Give him a donut and tell him he’s pretty.
He might grunt but he will appreciate the pastry, especially if it has gluten-free ingredients for when he has just informed his Facebook community that he’s turning vegan and packing for an ashram in India.
Life is hard for the millennial man..