The Crazy-Hot Scale

All women are crazy. I think women will be the first to admit that. However, men are willing to put up with a certain level of crazy, assuming that there is an equal amount of hotness to go with said crazy. To determine whether or not a woman is worth pursuing, you have to gauge where she stands on the Crazy-Hot Scale. If she is at least equal parts hot as she is crazy (also known as the Vicky Mendoza diagonal), then she is acceptable and you may proceed.

In my day and age, I have come across many women who fail the Crazy-Hot test. Honestly, I think that every single relationship or girl that I have been involved with has been under the Vicky Mendoza diagonal, and not in a good way. To illustrate my point, I bring you some of the more intriguing women from my sordid past. Lucky for them, I am not a malicious person and I won’t divulge their names and phone numbers. However, I will refer to them by the names that my friends and I have given to them. We have some great names for people, and typically they revolve adding the word “face” onto something that describes them. Murderface, slutface, jewface, doucheface, etc. I’m sure you get the picture.

Of course my personal favorite is Asshat. Asshat is a guy who literally wore a friend of mine’s ass for a hat in a picture because he was passed out. If you were there, you know the story.

1. The first girl you should know about is not someone that I ever hooked up with. This is of course, not for lack of trying on her part. In fact, this girl wanted me so bad that she took to sleeping with my friends as a way of trying to get with me. I shit you not. Nothing screams I want you more than knowing that a girl is sleeping with one of your best friends because she is trying to make you jealous.

   So let’s examine that Crazy-Hot Scale. The first order of business was the fact that this girl loved to drink. With her drinking, you knew that it was going to be a good night because quite frankly she lost any inhibitions at that point. I recall one night that she got so drunk she went over to a couple of my buddies’ place and started making out with this other girl on their couch. She wanted it. And she wanted it bad. That definitely put her on the good side of the diagonal. But then things started to go south. If she got pissed off for whatever reason, she would just up and leave. I don’t want to speculate on all the medications she was on and how drinking would effect them but it never was a pretty sight.

   I remember one particular night that there was a party at my house and she decided she wanted to leave and was going to drive home drunk. I tried to stop her by taking her keys and she swung at me. Yeah. That was awesome. She had a penchant for causing drama. And her biggest method of causing drama was to tell us that she was going to kill herself. Let me tell you how fun of a summer that was. Getting phone calls at three in the morning because she was depressed and wanted to kill herself. Hell, my buddy slept with her that entire summer pretty much so she wouldn’t off herself. The best thing about that? It never fucked up his game. At any rate, because of this crazy side to her, she completely failed the Crazy-Hot Scale. Anyone who threatens suicide all the time is way too crazy in my book and as such, we called her Suicideface.

2. Another prime example of a girl who fails the Crazy-Hot Scale would be a girl known to my friends as Crazy. Yes. She is actually so bat-shit crazy that we call her just Crazy. I met Crazy almost a year ago around Thanksgiving. After one night of some extensive drinking in the Irish section of town she practically begged me to take her back to my place. I feel that I am quite the Good Samaritan and I like nothing more than to feed the needy so I naturally obliged. After a couple of hot steamy hours that I, as a gentleman, can not indulge and a bit of a nap, I took her back to her friends house.Surely at this point you would think that the story would end, but this is actually where it just begins. You see, it seems that Crazy had just recently come out of a relationship and was now back on the market. She went so far as to buy my a Christmas present and invite me out to a basketball game. From here, we get the bat-shit crazy part of the story. After the basketball game, she gave me a DVD she had purchased for me. It was partially a gag gift, partially an attempt to turn me monogamous and it almost worked. In the coming weeks she went from liking me to not liking me, to getting back together with her ex to wanting to be single for a while to wanting me again to wanting this guy that she was using as a crutch while dealing with her breakup. Honestly, she had a different idea just about everyday and it got to a point where I thought she might actually have Multiple Personality Disorder. Maybe I should research that one a little more…

   Finally, I couldn’t deal with her crazy (look, I like my drama and craziness but it can get to be a little much sometimes) and it finally ended about the time that I found out that she had started dating the guy that was her crutch. I had to laugh and sort of pat him on the back because I know that when you get too closely involved with a crazy you may end up in trouble.

   So let’s fast forward from the start of January (when all of this came to a head) to July. Out of nowhere I get a message from Crazy. I actually did a double take because I didn’t recognize the number. Low and behold, it seemed that she was no longer dating that crutch and was back out having a good old time and apparently the good old time was going to be involving me. After attempting to make some plans to get together for a movie (and what I assumed would be another hot and steamy night) I could never get a commitment from her and I realized that once again she was going through her Multiple Personality problems and she was back to her old tricks. And, so with that, I decided that I was best to just leave it all alone and we should happen to both find ourselves at the same bar on a Friday night and I am trashed to the point of no longer being concerned with how far she might be over on the Crazy-hot scale, I might just have to bring her back to my place and exorcise some demons.

And so I expect that you will now be able to use the Crazy-Hot Scale to describe some of your own encounters with women. Remember, unless she is to the hot side of the Vicky Mendoza diagonal you had best run for the hills. You’d be safer walking into a femi-nazi party in the middle of their periods.