This is a post I am purely writing for the sake of throwing it in the main sidebar of the page.
Ladies? Let's talk about what you are even doing here. You came to this blog because you Googled some damn phrase like "why is he so aloof with me" or "trying to read an aloof man".
I know I'm not going to dissuade you from your mission. Like every human adult ever caught in possession of a vagina, you think you're special. You think this one fabulous aloof guy you're trying to turn is going to work wonders for you. I'd like to warn you, but I know better based upon LOTS of experience, that you think you're special and that nothing I'm writing here applies to you.
How do I know this? I am that guy.
I have spent my whole life watching women try to figure me out. In fact, watching women spin themselves in circles trying to get my attention is one of my favorite sources of narcissistic pleasure. Read a couple of the posts about my life experience. I have strung multiple women along for years -- literally multiple twelve month cycles -- purely for the benefit of my ego.
In more cases than I should ever want to admit to, I strung them along without a glimmer of hope. When I mean without a glimmer of hope, I mean zero sex, zero dates, zero anything. A little bit of talk. And not even much of that, if we're being honest.
I'm not some sexless defective pervert. I've fucked more than my fair share of chicks within two hours of meeting them. And I've made out with way more within an hour of saying hello.
There are in-between cases. Heck, one chick even got off-and-on sex for two years. But, I've never told any woman that I love her. I've gotten my rocks off watching numerous chicks do everything in their power to induce me into a relationship. And I hafta say I do enjoy occasionally blowing off the odd 8+ every now and then just to watch her get huffy and storm off. Nothing quite makes my day like watching some chick who thinks she's hot shit directly come on to me and fail miserably while trying repeatedly to get me to react.
Here's the brutal truth about me. My experiences from childhood through my early 20s taught me to never trust. Gaining my trust requires an investment of time and effort that escapes the capability of ANY human female. Women do not openly question aloof men because, at the end of the equation, the female sexual imperative places more value on being pursued than on getting the right guy.
Be honest with yourself. If you're after an attractive, aloof guy and you're reading this, you're trying to figure out a way to rig the game and trick him into hitting on you. It's that simple.
Guess what? You're a dumbfuck. You're wasting your time and you are going to fail. Worse? Your wonderful and completely useless ovaries release chemicals into your bloodstream that prevent you from ever just skipping line and directly asking him anything.
YOU DON'T HAVE IT IN YOU. Being a woman makes you a joke in that regard. Be honest with yourself about that fact. Women don't take real risks, even when they are convinced they have met the man of their dreams. Women will sooner cry themselves to sleep wondering why an aloof guy doesn't hit on them than actually just say something.
This is why dominant men run the planet. This is why women will be treated like shit until the end of time. Because, women DO NOT HAVE IT IN THEM. Women don't take risks. Women would sooner marry a less desirable man who wants to pursue them than risk being direct with a more desirable man.
In short. Give up. Accept what you are and move on to finding the inferior man who will at least humor your bullshit. You can't hotwire an aloof man. Don't bother trying.
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Monday, July 29, 2013
Why so aloof? Sometimes my attention is, ahem, elsewhere
This is another edition of "Why so aloof?" that is more about recent stuff than old stuff. I don't really know how to preface this one, so I'll just kind of throw it out there.
I was at the bar on a weird night last night. There were two wedding parties and a frickin class re-union taking place all at once in the bar. I usually don't stick around in these circumstances because it's hard to really vibe on groups that know each other well. Particularly, the guys who are pushing up on the chicks they haven't seen in a while can be very problematic if an outsider moves into the group and tries to play.
That's exactly what ended up happening. There was this chick there wearing this amazing form-fitting, full-length dress. Really showed off her ass well. Plus, it was just an amazing piece of fashion. Good fashion sense always gets a rise out of me.
She had been giving me a bit of the orbit / not-accidental accidental push up girl game. Problem is, there were three different guys from her re-union that were pushing up hard, too. I could take any of them in a fight, but they looked like they were bros. And, frankly, the one guy was giving me the eyes for eyeing the chick. That's a sure sign of potential violence. Muscle betas can be a bad fucking racket when you're trying to chase women.
So, I let the orbit go. But, I kinda didn't. In fact, I spent most of the evening distantly orbiting hoping for the muscle betas to flame out. Because, frankly, muscle beats usually do flame out. Horror of horrors, none of them get close to closing. None of them properly flames out. Slow burn failure.
She gives me a couple looks here and there, but it's pretty clear to me this is a scenario that leads to an asshole striking me in the back of the head backing his bro up. So, I idiotically just keep orbiting at a distance. Oddly, the guy who got the closest to closing with her doesn't even leave the place with her. Instead, she opts for the most beta one in the group. Grrr. Missed opportunity. But, fuck it. I have a good instinct for bad scenarios and this one just felt like there was no play that didn't end with some shithead jumping me.
Thing is, I kinda see this blond orbiting around the whole time. She's giving me the distant orbit, but it's clear she likes me. Solid 8, but dressed very demurely. Normally, she'd pique my interest, but . . . damn that ass and that tight dress!
So, I end up giving the blond an extra dose of aloofness, because my dick has other things on its mind. And my mind and my dick are having a very interesting convo about whether killing a guy in a fight is worth a piece of ass that I won't get to enjoy if I kill a guy in a fight. Dammit.
Funny thing ends up happening in the blond's favor. Everyone has been ushered out of the bar. People are milling around. Miss Ass & Dress is gone. A different part of the reunion party is outside yucking it up. And the blond just parks herself a couple feet to the left of me while I'm leaning against the outside wall of the bar. Clever girl.
Someone in the reunion party says something I just had to smack the fuck down hard. These fuckers were in their twenties, bitching about how old they are. I had to lay down the LOLs on that one. Clever Girl takes this opportunity to let out a laugh and join in picking on them with me.
Eventually, everyone scatters and its just me and Clever Girl in the parking lot chatting. She's getting a little testy, so I decide to just move in and kiss her unannounced. She does the classic lifted leg and leans into the kiss. We get a good make out on a couple times and a lot more convo. We keep bouncing between make out and convo until the rain finally scatters us an hour later. She says she needs to get some sleep before work. We make arrangements to meet in the future.
I gotta say, I think Clever Girl might have something to offer for the Girl Game playbook. There's something to be said for the "park yourself near him and seize the first opportunity" play. It's a good approach. It maintains the core tenants of Girl Game, that she's not really hitting on you. Sher just happens to be standing there when you get all whitty and whatever.
I rarely do Social Circle Game. Aloof Dead Eyed Psychopath Game is really my wheelhouse. But, it is interesting how easy it is to pull together an impromptu social circle, dominate it and then bounce into things with a girl. I get so used to women being disappointed if I drop out of full psychopath mode that I forget there are women who end up pleasantly surprised that the dead eyed guy does have some social game.
Point to Clever Girl. Girl approach worked for once. In large part because she saw an opening and seize it. I'll be interested to see how, if at all, this one pans out.
I was at the bar on a weird night last night. There were two wedding parties and a frickin class re-union taking place all at once in the bar. I usually don't stick around in these circumstances because it's hard to really vibe on groups that know each other well. Particularly, the guys who are pushing up on the chicks they haven't seen in a while can be very problematic if an outsider moves into the group and tries to play.
That's exactly what ended up happening. There was this chick there wearing this amazing form-fitting, full-length dress. Really showed off her ass well. Plus, it was just an amazing piece of fashion. Good fashion sense always gets a rise out of me.
She had been giving me a bit of the orbit / not-accidental accidental push up girl game. Problem is, there were three different guys from her re-union that were pushing up hard, too. I could take any of them in a fight, but they looked like they were bros. And, frankly, the one guy was giving me the eyes for eyeing the chick. That's a sure sign of potential violence. Muscle betas can be a bad fucking racket when you're trying to chase women.
So, I let the orbit go. But, I kinda didn't. In fact, I spent most of the evening distantly orbiting hoping for the muscle betas to flame out. Because, frankly, muscle beats usually do flame out. Horror of horrors, none of them get close to closing. None of them properly flames out. Slow burn failure.
She gives me a couple looks here and there, but it's pretty clear to me this is a scenario that leads to an asshole striking me in the back of the head backing his bro up. So, I idiotically just keep orbiting at a distance. Oddly, the guy who got the closest to closing with her doesn't even leave the place with her. Instead, she opts for the most beta one in the group. Grrr. Missed opportunity. But, fuck it. I have a good instinct for bad scenarios and this one just felt like there was no play that didn't end with some shithead jumping me.
Thing is, I kinda see this blond orbiting around the whole time. She's giving me the distant orbit, but it's clear she likes me. Solid 8, but dressed very demurely. Normally, she'd pique my interest, but . . . damn that ass and that tight dress!
So, I end up giving the blond an extra dose of aloofness, because my dick has other things on its mind. And my mind and my dick are having a very interesting convo about whether killing a guy in a fight is worth a piece of ass that I won't get to enjoy if I kill a guy in a fight. Dammit.
Funny thing ends up happening in the blond's favor. Everyone has been ushered out of the bar. People are milling around. Miss Ass & Dress is gone. A different part of the reunion party is outside yucking it up. And the blond just parks herself a couple feet to the left of me while I'm leaning against the outside wall of the bar. Clever girl.
Someone in the reunion party says something I just had to smack the fuck down hard. These fuckers were in their twenties, bitching about how old they are. I had to lay down the LOLs on that one. Clever Girl takes this opportunity to let out a laugh and join in picking on them with me.
Eventually, everyone scatters and its just me and Clever Girl in the parking lot chatting. She's getting a little testy, so I decide to just move in and kiss her unannounced. She does the classic lifted leg and leans into the kiss. We get a good make out on a couple times and a lot more convo. We keep bouncing between make out and convo until the rain finally scatters us an hour later. She says she needs to get some sleep before work. We make arrangements to meet in the future.
I gotta say, I think Clever Girl might have something to offer for the Girl Game playbook. There's something to be said for the "park yourself near him and seize the first opportunity" play. It's a good approach. It maintains the core tenants of Girl Game, that she's not really hitting on you. Sher just happens to be standing there when you get all whitty and whatever.
I rarely do Social Circle Game. Aloof Dead Eyed Psychopath Game is really my wheelhouse. But, it is interesting how easy it is to pull together an impromptu social circle, dominate it and then bounce into things with a girl. I get so used to women being disappointed if I drop out of full psychopath mode that I forget there are women who end up pleasantly surprised that the dead eyed guy does have some social game.
Point to Clever Girl. Girl approach worked for once. In large part because she saw an opening and seize it. I'll be interested to see how, if at all, this one pans out.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Compromise is dangerous and stupid
This post is about life in general. Compromise has an undeserved good reputation in this world. Of course, the idea is that you ought to go along to get along. We should all strive peace and co-operation and high fives and eventually everyone gets to go out for ice cream. Or some stupid shit like that.
You know what compromise really is? Compromise what happens when the finance guys at a car company come in and tell the engineering guys that the marketing team says they have to keep the price of the new car below $16,000 or else the car won't sell to young drivers. And what ends up being the result? So, the subframe gets changes, the motor gets pussified and eventually the whole thing becomes an expensive coffin with a voice-activated bluetooth system in the dash. A $17,000 car that will sever off your fuckin legs the first time you bump into a shopping cart. That's what compromise gets ya.
The real art of being a man is to know when to walk the fuck away. Blow the bridge, kill the hostages and leave empty-handed. We may not have won this round, but we're sure as hell not going to die fighting on someone else's terms. Fuck that.
Worse, compromise is the gateway drug that hooks you on a yes ladder. It's that first yes that's going to fuck you up. It's the easy yes, the yes made as a fair compromise so you can play nice with others, that will kill you in the end. Against a skilled opponent, you're going to be yessed to death.
Think about World War II. The French should have just said fuck it and bombed Germany back into the Stone Age in 1936, when the bastards invaded the demilitarized zone in the Rhineland. But, it seemed reasonable to let the Germans of the hook. It was, after all, their land. Of course, the Germans used the industrial output of the Rhineland to build a gigantic military powerhouse. But, ya know . . . no biggie.
Against a committed opponent, you will get yessed until your back is against the wall. And then you kill him or he kills you. Only, to make it funnier, he's been gaining the superior position every time you said yes.
Even in everyday life, compromise fails. Decisions need to be made. Fully formed decisions that ensure things work. Compromise rewards hostage taking and incentivizes bad behavior. You can't lead a full life when you compromise.
Compromise: not even once. Unless you need to fake it. Or you're using it to hook someone on a yes ladder. But, that's some high-level skilled sociopath shit probably best left to the professionals.
You know what compromise really is? Compromise what happens when the finance guys at a car company come in and tell the engineering guys that the marketing team says they have to keep the price of the new car below $16,000 or else the car won't sell to young drivers. And what ends up being the result? So, the subframe gets changes, the motor gets pussified and eventually the whole thing becomes an expensive coffin with a voice-activated bluetooth system in the dash. A $17,000 car that will sever off your fuckin legs the first time you bump into a shopping cart. That's what compromise gets ya.
The real art of being a man is to know when to walk the fuck away. Blow the bridge, kill the hostages and leave empty-handed. We may not have won this round, but we're sure as hell not going to die fighting on someone else's terms. Fuck that.
Worse, compromise is the gateway drug that hooks you on a yes ladder. It's that first yes that's going to fuck you up. It's the easy yes, the yes made as a fair compromise so you can play nice with others, that will kill you in the end. Against a skilled opponent, you're going to be yessed to death.
Think about World War II. The French should have just said fuck it and bombed Germany back into the Stone Age in 1936, when the bastards invaded the demilitarized zone in the Rhineland. But, it seemed reasonable to let the Germans of the hook. It was, after all, their land. Of course, the Germans used the industrial output of the Rhineland to build a gigantic military powerhouse. But, ya know . . . no biggie.
Against a committed opponent, you will get yessed until your back is against the wall. And then you kill him or he kills you. Only, to make it funnier, he's been gaining the superior position every time you said yes.
Even in everyday life, compromise fails. Decisions need to be made. Fully formed decisions that ensure things work. Compromise rewards hostage taking and incentivizes bad behavior. You can't lead a full life when you compromise.
Compromise: not even once. Unless you need to fake it. Or you're using it to hook someone on a yes ladder. But, that's some high-level skilled sociopath shit probably best left to the professionals.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Why so aloof? Serious bitch face bothers me
Every now and then the perfect storm of opportunity forms for me to rightfully ignore a chick I don't feel bad about. It's rare. On balance, most women that try to dig on me probably deserve some points for trying and caring. This story is from this weekend, BTW. So, unlike most editions of "why so aloof", this edition is not a personal history item of any value to me. I'm putting this one out there for guys as evidence of how crazy effective it can be to just brutally ignore a hot chick.
I'm out at what is, by far, my best bar for success with women. I'm sitting in the middle of the bar section near the dance floor. I'm facing the floor with a good, open, dominant seated stance. Legs spread wide, arms spread wide and leaning back against the bar. (For those of you taking notes, you're gonna wanna write all that down.)
This chick comes along and she is on. Tight jeans, sleeveless shirt with a cut-out back. Nice, big ass paired with a narrow waist -- just the way I like them. About 5'8" tall. Dark hair. She looks like she belongs on a hispanic themed porn site.
I have always been good at spotting women who would sleep with me without much trouble. She's one of them. She's on her cycle. She's looking around for a guy. She wants to dance and she is determined to not go home alone. In short, she's just the kinda gal in the market for the dead eyed sociopath.
When I really don't like another human being -- I mean that instant dislike -- it's always easy for me nail down what it was about. With this chick, it was super easy. She had the meanest, bitchiest bitch face I've seen in a long time. She looked like a supporting character from a bad inner-city gang movie. She'd be the tough, Michelle Rodriguez type hispanic chick that dies in every James Cameron sci-fi movie ever made. (Avatar? Aliens? We're looking your way.) Only with none of the coolness and a double helping of bitchiness. When I say bitchy, I mean this chick looked like she just shit her pants. Angry "don't fuck with me" bitch face.
So, she keeps working her way slowly toward the dance floor. She's scanning the guys. I'm actually kinda stuck on creeping on this wedding party that came in, because two of the girls there looked fun -- both ended up being married with their husband present, so that's a big no-go. Whatever. I just really hate the bitchiness on this girls face.
The bitch chick parks herself about three feet in front of me and to my left. She turns her back to me and does nothing. A couple guys orbit past her, try to dance and nothing happens. This is classic girl game. I'm parked here looking all hot, now you have to come and get me.
She's hot shit and she knows it. I know it, too. She's my type, physically. If this chick were in a porn, I'd have zero problem jerking off to her being fucked in the ass without lube. I just don't care. Refer back to past posts on this subject. I hate that shit so freakin badly. It's unfeminine. A little bit of doubt is sexy as hell in a woman. A load of angry, forceful confidence is disgusting as fuck.
Bitch face decides to park herself directly in front of me. A little wiggle, but not much. She's still turned away. She's still not giving guys much play. She'll dance a little and then kinda push them off.
There's a "too old for this shit" old chick sitting to my right. She's having a hiliarious time getting up every now and then for a grinding by a group of young guys who are just yucking this shit up. So, the old chick gets up and goes back for a second round. The minute she's gone from the seat, bitch face moves into that slot, but doesn't sit down or order anything.
She's kind of quarter turned toward me, but still looking straight out on the dance floor. I continue ignoring her. So, she starts dancing harder and does the not-so-accidental butt bump into my arm several times in a row, just a few seconds apart. If she were a guy gaming a girl, I'd give her high points for how tight her game was. But, she's not. I keep ignoring her.
What can I say? A woman's energy does a lot more for me than it does most guys. If a chick is emitting negativity and hate out into the world, I'm not interested in her. No matter how hot a chick is physically, if she lacks a feminine personality then I'm out. Forget about it. It's not gonna happen. I can't imagine why women should even exist if all they're going to be is men with tits. It's an affront to nature.
So, she opts for what I can only describe as one of the more interesting ploys I've seen in a while. She fakes a fall as a pretense for putting her hand on my knee!! Worse, it was a very poorly executed fake fall that ends up looking like a reach because she doesn't actually fall or put any of her weight on my knee. Poor girl. She's been reduced to creepy old man game in under two minutes. She quickly picks her hand off my knee. I continue ignoring her.
Her next move I'm not 100% about. She decides to move into the dance floor space about five feet directly in front of me. She humors a few guys but settles on a dude who is about -2.5 below her on the SMV scale. I'd probably rank him a bit lower, but he was gaming hard as a motherfucker, and that's worth points for added dominance displays. She's not giving him any real play. And she's laying the bitch face on very hard now.
I'd be intrigued to hear other people's opinions on this one. Was she just taking a breather to recalibrate? Was she trying some form of jealousy game? Or maybe a basic "hey, look, I got options so you better get in the game" social proof kinda game?
So, she does this for about five minutes and then finds her way back to the seat next to me. The best she can do this time is a brush of a pinky finger against the elbow. I'm still completely ignoring her. In fact, she's not even in my field of vision even though she's only two inches away from my right elbow. She barely makes it a minute before she decides to rejoin her dancing monkey -2.5 guy who is gaming her hard as fuck. She definitely get more involved this time. She's done with me. She didn't understand what happened, but she's not going home alone tonight and that means she can't waste time on a guy who isn't even acknowledging her existence.
I've complained before that having the dead eyes attracts the wrong kind of women. I knew the second I saw this chick how this was going to play out. I know the look of the girl who wants a dead eyed psychopath to fuck her stupid in her car outside of the bar.
The bitch face girl had zero clue what to do. She had spent every arrow in her quiver. I stood in front of him and it didn't work. I wiggled in front of him and it didn't work. I rubbed up against him repeatedly and it didn't work. I faked an accident to get his attention and it didn't work. I tried to show him other guys wanted me and it didn't work.
I knew before she even saw me that she was going to do this. If there is an SMV 8+ chick in the bar and all she wants is some dead eyed psychopath to ride her hard, she's going to walk past every guy in the place and park herself right next to me. I knew it the second I saw her. And sure enough, that's exactly what she did. Worse, in this case, I knew the second I saw her that I didn't like her. Snotty bitches who think they're hot shit are not attractive to me. Even if they have full Latin exploitation porn bodies.
The problem with having had a few really great moments with women in your life is you get really good at recognizing what isn't going to be a great moment. I've never enjoyed a single moment with an angry woman. Not a woman who is truly broken and bitter down in her soul. I can get my dick off without having to swim in those waters. After all, there are a thousand girls just like her on every cam site on the web. Every one of them able to provide the exact same dead and soulless experience.
Whatever the case, Mister -2.5 got to leave the bar with her. Whether he had it in him to finish the deal I'll probably never know. I like to think he did. But, experience tells me he didn't. Those guys usually end up standing around at some convenience store two hours later trying to talk her into sex, not realizing she wants more aggression and less gabbing.
I'm out at what is, by far, my best bar for success with women. I'm sitting in the middle of the bar section near the dance floor. I'm facing the floor with a good, open, dominant seated stance. Legs spread wide, arms spread wide and leaning back against the bar. (For those of you taking notes, you're gonna wanna write all that down.)
This chick comes along and she is on. Tight jeans, sleeveless shirt with a cut-out back. Nice, big ass paired with a narrow waist -- just the way I like them. About 5'8" tall. Dark hair. She looks like she belongs on a hispanic themed porn site.
I have always been good at spotting women who would sleep with me without much trouble. She's one of them. She's on her cycle. She's looking around for a guy. She wants to dance and she is determined to not go home alone. In short, she's just the kinda gal in the market for the dead eyed sociopath.
When I really don't like another human being -- I mean that instant dislike -- it's always easy for me nail down what it was about. With this chick, it was super easy. She had the meanest, bitchiest bitch face I've seen in a long time. She looked like a supporting character from a bad inner-city gang movie. She'd be the tough, Michelle Rodriguez type hispanic chick that dies in every James Cameron sci-fi movie ever made. (Avatar? Aliens? We're looking your way.) Only with none of the coolness and a double helping of bitchiness. When I say bitchy, I mean this chick looked like she just shit her pants. Angry "don't fuck with me" bitch face.
So, she keeps working her way slowly toward the dance floor. She's scanning the guys. I'm actually kinda stuck on creeping on this wedding party that came in, because two of the girls there looked fun -- both ended up being married with their husband present, so that's a big no-go. Whatever. I just really hate the bitchiness on this girls face.
The bitch chick parks herself about three feet in front of me and to my left. She turns her back to me and does nothing. A couple guys orbit past her, try to dance and nothing happens. This is classic girl game. I'm parked here looking all hot, now you have to come and get me.
She's hot shit and she knows it. I know it, too. She's my type, physically. If this chick were in a porn, I'd have zero problem jerking off to her being fucked in the ass without lube. I just don't care. Refer back to past posts on this subject. I hate that shit so freakin badly. It's unfeminine. A little bit of doubt is sexy as hell in a woman. A load of angry, forceful confidence is disgusting as fuck.
Bitch face decides to park herself directly in front of me. A little wiggle, but not much. She's still turned away. She's still not giving guys much play. She'll dance a little and then kinda push them off.
There's a "too old for this shit" old chick sitting to my right. She's having a hiliarious time getting up every now and then for a grinding by a group of young guys who are just yucking this shit up. So, the old chick gets up and goes back for a second round. The minute she's gone from the seat, bitch face moves into that slot, but doesn't sit down or order anything.
She's kind of quarter turned toward me, but still looking straight out on the dance floor. I continue ignoring her. So, she starts dancing harder and does the not-so-accidental butt bump into my arm several times in a row, just a few seconds apart. If she were a guy gaming a girl, I'd give her high points for how tight her game was. But, she's not. I keep ignoring her.
What can I say? A woman's energy does a lot more for me than it does most guys. If a chick is emitting negativity and hate out into the world, I'm not interested in her. No matter how hot a chick is physically, if she lacks a feminine personality then I'm out. Forget about it. It's not gonna happen. I can't imagine why women should even exist if all they're going to be is men with tits. It's an affront to nature.
So, she opts for what I can only describe as one of the more interesting ploys I've seen in a while. She fakes a fall as a pretense for putting her hand on my knee!! Worse, it was a very poorly executed fake fall that ends up looking like a reach because she doesn't actually fall or put any of her weight on my knee. Poor girl. She's been reduced to creepy old man game in under two minutes. She quickly picks her hand off my knee. I continue ignoring her.
Her next move I'm not 100% about. She decides to move into the dance floor space about five feet directly in front of me. She humors a few guys but settles on a dude who is about -2.5 below her on the SMV scale. I'd probably rank him a bit lower, but he was gaming hard as a motherfucker, and that's worth points for added dominance displays. She's not giving him any real play. And she's laying the bitch face on very hard now.
I'd be intrigued to hear other people's opinions on this one. Was she just taking a breather to recalibrate? Was she trying some form of jealousy game? Or maybe a basic "hey, look, I got options so you better get in the game" social proof kinda game?
So, she does this for about five minutes and then finds her way back to the seat next to me. The best she can do this time is a brush of a pinky finger against the elbow. I'm still completely ignoring her. In fact, she's not even in my field of vision even though she's only two inches away from my right elbow. She barely makes it a minute before she decides to rejoin her dancing monkey -2.5 guy who is gaming her hard as fuck. She definitely get more involved this time. She's done with me. She didn't understand what happened, but she's not going home alone tonight and that means she can't waste time on a guy who isn't even acknowledging her existence.
Dead eyed psychopath game
I've complained before that having the dead eyes attracts the wrong kind of women. I knew the second I saw this chick how this was going to play out. I know the look of the girl who wants a dead eyed psychopath to fuck her stupid in her car outside of the bar.
The bitch face girl had zero clue what to do. She had spent every arrow in her quiver. I stood in front of him and it didn't work. I wiggled in front of him and it didn't work. I rubbed up against him repeatedly and it didn't work. I faked an accident to get his attention and it didn't work. I tried to show him other guys wanted me and it didn't work.
I knew before she even saw me that she was going to do this. If there is an SMV 8+ chick in the bar and all she wants is some dead eyed psychopath to ride her hard, she's going to walk past every guy in the place and park herself right next to me. I knew it the second I saw her. And sure enough, that's exactly what she did. Worse, in this case, I knew the second I saw her that I didn't like her. Snotty bitches who think they're hot shit are not attractive to me. Even if they have full Latin exploitation porn bodies.
The problem with having had a few really great moments with women in your life is you get really good at recognizing what isn't going to be a great moment. I've never enjoyed a single moment with an angry woman. Not a woman who is truly broken and bitter down in her soul. I can get my dick off without having to swim in those waters. After all, there are a thousand girls just like her on every cam site on the web. Every one of them able to provide the exact same dead and soulless experience.
Whatever the case, Mister -2.5 got to leave the bar with her. Whether he had it in him to finish the deal I'll probably never know. I like to think he did. But, experience tells me he didn't. Those guys usually end up standing around at some convenience store two hours later trying to talk her into sex, not realizing she wants more aggression and less gabbing.
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Your once every couple months service announcement about aloofness
There are basically two demographics who come to this blog. The big demographic is women trying to figure out an aloof guy, especially an aloof guy who isn't engaging her to her satisfaction. The second and much smaller demo is guys who are trying to figure out how to be that aloof guy in order to tie some poor girl into pretzels twists.
I do not deny any guy the right to want to feel like I do when a chick sits down next to me and starts going stupid trying to get my attention. It is fun. Addictive. And like a lot of fun and addictive things involving sexuality and strangers, it's not healthy.
I get why guys who don't get attention from women want what I have. Trust me, as an egotistical piece of shit who enjoys being aloof and watching women lose their shit trying to figure me out, I can easily appreciate where a guy who has never enjoyed that moment would really, really want in on it. Pass the pipe, motherfucker! Right?
The thing is do you really want to be so emotionally dysfunctional that you reach 35 years old without ever having told a single woman that you love her? That's a serious question. Because if you model your life on my life, that's what you're going to get. You get the dark emotional satisfaction of committing what amounts to a very subtle form of abuse. And you are gaining this in exchange for a lifetime of the low hum misery in the background of your existence of knowing you are going to die unloved and alone.
Aloofness is a hell of drug. For both sexes. Women who like aloof men have a hard time getting off it. Men who like being aloof toward women -- and yes, I absolutely enjoy being aloof toward women -- are never going to get off the stuff.
Don't fool yourself into thinking you can handle it in tactically small doses. Odds are, you're too fucking clumsy to even pick up, let alone deliver it properly into your system. Aloofness is like swearing. The really good swearers are missing a small piece of their soul badly enough that all they think when they wake up in the morning is "oh, super . . . the world is still here". FTR, I am a really good swearer. Aloof + swearer = I'm missing a piece of my soul about the size of a small northeastern U.S. state.
Sexuality is about authenticity. Or at least a level of commitment to fakeness that feels authentic enough that when the mask is pealed back you kinda stop and go, "Shit, I sorta respect how sociopathic that was!" If you're not aloof by nature, you're not going to fake your way toward it.
Think about this for a minute. I've had two relationships in my life that spanned, in off and on form, at least two years. I've written about the one. The other I am not so prepared to talk about, even in anonymous form. That's four years of never telling two very involved and very eager girls "I love you". That's a special sort of damaged. You're not gonna fake that shit. I promise.
The PUA blogs hit one key point I think guys should really listen to. Dominating a social moment is the key component to getting girls. Women want a man who is socially adept. There's a reason unfuckably ugly guys like Mick Jagger become rock singers. Standing in front of a large crowd having everyone waiting for you is the ultimate form of social proof. Whoever has the most social proof wins. The End.
You really want to get girls? Develop some form of legitimate social proof that puts eyes on you. And don't try to chickenshit your way to it. I've seen good-looking guys on hot motorcycles ride the fuck home alone at 2am. Women have an evolved bullshit detector. The best way to avoid failing bullshit detection is to legitimately do something that makes you the rock star at the exact moment the girl you want is on her ovulation cycle. When she's in her wanting mode, you want to be the one thing everyone can't stop talking about at that exact moment.
Fat fuck comedians do it. Evolutionary dead end looking rock star heroin addicts do it. Big dick real estate moguls do it. Cocaine dealers do it. That nice guy running the hippie charity to give shoes to war orphans is doing it -- with a fucking side of hipster fucktard SWPL chic to boot! (LONG MEANINGLESS POLITICAL ASIDE WARNING!! In fact, that's pretty much why every hetero white male in the Democratic Party puts up with them. Do you honestly believe Bill Clinton gives a rat's ass about black people? No single president in American history passed more laws to toss black folks in jail than the Big Dog. And he was the last Democrat to win Georgia, too. It was a scam. Ka-ching, baby!)
That's how it's done, kids.
I'm not gonna warn you off the aloof guys. I know better than to try. In a sea of needy losers, it's not hard to understand why women see the damaged aloof guy as the island they want to swim toward. I get it. But, you have to assume you're going to fucking drown before you ever get there. If a seaworthy boat comes along, take it.
Women have a long history (sometimes called all of human history) of investing themselves in damaged men. But, there's is no upside value to be had from investing yourself in a man who is never, ever going to love you back, provide for you or have children with you. In fact, depending on how distant an aloof man is toward you, there's a good chance he's not even going to fuck you. And in many cases, he's barely even going to talk to you.
Do you really want to be the girl who spends the better part of two years nibbling around the edges of a passing acquaintance with a guy in the outside hope he somehow comes around to seeing your virtues? Or maybe you'd rather be this chick, who at least owned up to it enough to crash and burn after putting in her two years of suffering? Or maybe you can just embarrass yourself in the first five minutes? Or maybe you do get a piece from the aloof guy and hope it's enough to bridge to a relationship, only to then crash and burn?
Go read all those links. Seriously. Think about what has to be going on in your life to want to do any of that. And truth be told, I don't post the worst stories. The ones that make me really uncomfortable stay in cold storage. The shit I post on here is the stuff pleasant enough that I can stand writing about it.
Women are so accustomed to how dumb men are around them that they have no clue how to react toward me. Most just close shop, reorganize and then come back for a second try. Rinse and repeat is a popular choice when confronted by an aloof guy.
One thing I absolutely hate about women is that once a woman feels something she believes it to be an immutable truth of the universe. At least until she stops feeling it. Then you're a loser or a creep or an asshole for making her lose that feeling (it's never her, after all, because she's a fucking princess).
When a woman falls for an aloof man, nothing will knock her off that feeling. His actions mean nothing to her. In fact, the only thing that will knock her down a peg at all is seeing him have a positive interaction with a more attractive woman. Everything else in the universe is meaningless. She wants the aloof guy and she's going to spend as much time dating the guy in her head as necessary to bridge the time between now and when the real guy beings to act like the guy in her head (which is to say "never").
In fact, that's a big one I hate. You can watch these girls sit there and fall in love with the guy in her head. I believe it's one of the most addictive aspects of falling for an aloof guy. Because now a girl gets to spend all her time in an idealized relationship in a risk-free environment. Why even bother trying for a relationship when you can masturbate to the best relationship of your life every night?
I realize I don't give a chick a lot to work with. But, here's the thing . . . I'm under no obligation to help you out. It's not my job to make it easier for you to fuck me. If you want to fuck me bad enough, I guarantee you there are proven ways to find whether I'll do it or not. Frankly, the old school "Are you queer?" question works pretty well. Or smack me in the face. That worked.
If you really want the aloof guy, give up your female pretensions and cut through the noise. Make an overtly sexual move and see what he does. Park yourself right on his arm. Bare skin on bare skin. See what happens. Any lesser strategy is pointless and just an overt admission that you're too weak to get what you want. If you really want the dead-eye man who is ignoring you, make it impossible for him to ignore you. See what happens. Oh, and don't whine if he's really just not attracted to you.
First, the guys
I do not deny any guy the right to want to feel like I do when a chick sits down next to me and starts going stupid trying to get my attention. It is fun. Addictive. And like a lot of fun and addictive things involving sexuality and strangers, it's not healthy.
I get why guys who don't get attention from women want what I have. Trust me, as an egotistical piece of shit who enjoys being aloof and watching women lose their shit trying to figure me out, I can easily appreciate where a guy who has never enjoyed that moment would really, really want in on it. Pass the pipe, motherfucker! Right?
The thing is do you really want to be so emotionally dysfunctional that you reach 35 years old without ever having told a single woman that you love her? That's a serious question. Because if you model your life on my life, that's what you're going to get. You get the dark emotional satisfaction of committing what amounts to a very subtle form of abuse. And you are gaining this in exchange for a lifetime of the low hum misery in the background of your existence of knowing you are going to die unloved and alone.
Aloofness is a hell of drug. For both sexes. Women who like aloof men have a hard time getting off it. Men who like being aloof toward women -- and yes, I absolutely enjoy being aloof toward women -- are never going to get off the stuff.
Don't fool yourself into thinking you can handle it in tactically small doses. Odds are, you're too fucking clumsy to even pick up, let alone deliver it properly into your system. Aloofness is like swearing. The really good swearers are missing a small piece of their soul badly enough that all they think when they wake up in the morning is "oh, super . . . the world is still here". FTR, I am a really good swearer. Aloof + swearer = I'm missing a piece of my soul about the size of a small northeastern U.S. state.
Sexuality is about authenticity. Or at least a level of commitment to fakeness that feels authentic enough that when the mask is pealed back you kinda stop and go, "Shit, I sorta respect how sociopathic that was!" If you're not aloof by nature, you're not going to fake your way toward it.
Think about this for a minute. I've had two relationships in my life that spanned, in off and on form, at least two years. I've written about the one. The other I am not so prepared to talk about, even in anonymous form. That's four years of never telling two very involved and very eager girls "I love you". That's a special sort of damaged. You're not gonna fake that shit. I promise.
Social game
The PUA blogs hit one key point I think guys should really listen to. Dominating a social moment is the key component to getting girls. Women want a man who is socially adept. There's a reason unfuckably ugly guys like Mick Jagger become rock singers. Standing in front of a large crowd having everyone waiting for you is the ultimate form of social proof. Whoever has the most social proof wins. The End.
You really want to get girls? Develop some form of legitimate social proof that puts eyes on you. And don't try to chickenshit your way to it. I've seen good-looking guys on hot motorcycles ride the fuck home alone at 2am. Women have an evolved bullshit detector. The best way to avoid failing bullshit detection is to legitimately do something that makes you the rock star at the exact moment the girl you want is on her ovulation cycle. When she's in her wanting mode, you want to be the one thing everyone can't stop talking about at that exact moment.
Fat fuck comedians do it. Evolutionary dead end looking rock star heroin addicts do it. Big dick real estate moguls do it. Cocaine dealers do it. That nice guy running the hippie charity to give shoes to war orphans is doing it -- with a fucking side of hipster fucktard SWPL chic to boot! (LONG MEANINGLESS POLITICAL ASIDE WARNING!! In fact, that's pretty much why every hetero white male in the Democratic Party puts up with them. Do you honestly believe Bill Clinton gives a rat's ass about black people? No single president in American history passed more laws to toss black folks in jail than the Big Dog. And he was the last Democrat to win Georgia, too. It was a scam. Ka-ching, baby!)
That's how it's done, kids.
And now for the ladies
I'm not gonna warn you off the aloof guys. I know better than to try. In a sea of needy losers, it's not hard to understand why women see the damaged aloof guy as the island they want to swim toward. I get it. But, you have to assume you're going to fucking drown before you ever get there. If a seaworthy boat comes along, take it.
Women have a long history (sometimes called all of human history) of investing themselves in damaged men. But, there's is no upside value to be had from investing yourself in a man who is never, ever going to love you back, provide for you or have children with you. In fact, depending on how distant an aloof man is toward you, there's a good chance he's not even going to fuck you. And in many cases, he's barely even going to talk to you.
Do you really want to be the girl who spends the better part of two years nibbling around the edges of a passing acquaintance with a guy in the outside hope he somehow comes around to seeing your virtues? Or maybe you'd rather be this chick, who at least owned up to it enough to crash and burn after putting in her two years of suffering? Or maybe you can just embarrass yourself in the first five minutes? Or maybe you do get a piece from the aloof guy and hope it's enough to bridge to a relationship, only to then crash and burn?
Go read all those links. Seriously. Think about what has to be going on in your life to want to do any of that. And truth be told, I don't post the worst stories. The ones that make me really uncomfortable stay in cold storage. The shit I post on here is the stuff pleasant enough that I can stand writing about it.
Things I hate about women
Women are so accustomed to how dumb men are around them that they have no clue how to react toward me. Most just close shop, reorganize and then come back for a second try. Rinse and repeat is a popular choice when confronted by an aloof guy.
One thing I absolutely hate about women is that once a woman feels something she believes it to be an immutable truth of the universe. At least until she stops feeling it. Then you're a loser or a creep or an asshole for making her lose that feeling (it's never her, after all, because she's a fucking princess).
When a woman falls for an aloof man, nothing will knock her off that feeling. His actions mean nothing to her. In fact, the only thing that will knock her down a peg at all is seeing him have a positive interaction with a more attractive woman. Everything else in the universe is meaningless. She wants the aloof guy and she's going to spend as much time dating the guy in her head as necessary to bridge the time between now and when the real guy beings to act like the guy in her head (which is to say "never").
In fact, that's a big one I hate. You can watch these girls sit there and fall in love with the guy in her head. I believe it's one of the most addictive aspects of falling for an aloof guy. Because now a girl gets to spend all her time in an idealized relationship in a risk-free environment. Why even bother trying for a relationship when you can masturbate to the best relationship of your life every night?
I realize I don't give a chick a lot to work with. But, here's the thing . . . I'm under no obligation to help you out. It's not my job to make it easier for you to fuck me. If you want to fuck me bad enough, I guarantee you there are proven ways to find whether I'll do it or not. Frankly, the old school "Are you queer?" question works pretty well. Or smack me in the face. That worked.
If you really want the aloof guy, give up your female pretensions and cut through the noise. Make an overtly sexual move and see what he does. Park yourself right on his arm. Bare skin on bare skin. See what happens. Any lesser strategy is pointless and just an overt admission that you're too weak to get what you want. If you really want the dead-eye man who is ignoring you, make it impossible for him to ignore you. See what happens. Oh, and don't whine if he's really just not attracted to you.
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
What type of women do aloof men attract?
Saw this one in the queries and I figured I'd answer it as best I can. Allowing for the fact that most of the people you encounter over a lifetime are reflective of the general population in your area -- bah! Let's just skip that. It's probably worth considering, but I don't feel like doing the math.
Before I proceed, let me provide my standard public service here. Don't do aloofness. It's a bad idea. Especially if it's not natural to you.
The top two groups of women I attract are about as divergent as you could possibly imagine.
One group I attract is the hard-working girl with a plan. She is waiting for "The One" to come along. She's usually in college or post-college. And she is working at some menial job to make ends meet. That menial job, where she is invariably working as a cashier or a waitress or a bartender or some other shit service gig, is where she sees me. She spends a lot of time trying to initiate idle chat. She always tries to leverage her break time to talk more with me, sometimes going as far as just telling me when she'll be on her break, or using her break to lurk and say hi if she can figure out the timing to do that.
The other group I attract is the complete fucking trainwreck. This is the girl who will admit to having done cocaine, but it's totally in the past. When I tell her heroine is a dealbreaker, she says she never has done it, but then gets the "oh, shit, he's gonna figure me out before I get a real chance" look on her face. Sometimes she's just a drunk, but not as often as one would hope when swimming in a sea of junkies who claim to be former junkies. These chicks always try to isolate me and ply me with booze. Basically, they are fashioning the patented "oh, it just happened" first-night sex scenario that PUA bloggers like Roissy constantly drone on about when they discuss female rationalization while acting like they never read Freud before.
There's actually a decent amount in between those two. But, that group just covers "humanity". Nothing really to see there, in truth.
I attract the low-achieving, aspiring high-achiever who thinks she just needs the right man in her life. And I attract the low-achieving, low-achiever who is hoping this time she'll find a guy that'll fuck her stupid and . . . who knows?! She ain't thinking that far into the future! That's what my aloofness attracts. I attract hard-working underachievers who are in the market for that one distant, cool guy who is secretly amazing. And I attract pure fuck-ups who are looking for a brutal sociopath to take advantage of them.
What's my theory?
It's the dead eyes. I have dead eyes. That's an absolute personal truth I believe about myself. I had a friend once tell me that when I stand around waiting for people I look like I'm going to rob the place. Various other versions I have been told are that I look like I shit myself, that I look like I'm going to punch the next person who walks past, etc, etc. All basically forms of "you look, angry, scary, depressed, violent".
The thing with women is you'd be surprised how many of them are looking for a guy with the dead eyes. If I'm by myself at the bar and a chick comes in by herself after midnight, you can be almost guaranteed I will be the first guy she locks eyes with. I'm very popular with the chicks who are looking to fuck shit up.
Understand, though, that trait translates to nice girls, too. The hard-working girl with her shit together who sees the well-dressed guy with the dead eyes cross her path is just working from a slightly more delusional premise than the bad bitch. The nice girl is hoping that the hard man has that layer of good underneath. As the folks on the TV Tropes website call it, she's looking for the Jerk With a Heart of Gold. (Yes, it does undermine my sense of being a little bit to consider that I'm just a very bad television trope living out my life in quiet desperation.)
The big difference between the bad bitch and the nice girl is that the bad bitch thinks there's no good to come of this life and she decides to just play for fun. It's pragmatic hyper-realism that eventually bends inward under its own weight and becomes a distinctive form of delusion. It's the belief that life is so hard that all a fucked up girl can do is find a mean to have a fun time with for tonight.
The nice girl, of course, thinks she has a good bead on things, too. She thinks there's a strong, emotionally deep man out there who just needs the right girl to open him up. I always figured this was an unresolved daddy issues thing, because a lot of the nice girls I attract had dads who did jail time. So, essentially, they're objectifying me as a way of working through the idea that whatever was wrong with their fathers, somewhere underneath it all was a caring man who just needed her to love him.
Going into the space between . . . I attract chicks who seem to be really on their ovulation cycle and just have to get it out of their system. Again, the dead-eyed sociopath seems to be a premium choice for the chick who wants to get off. I also attract the "not another birthday" demographic. Chicks in their 30s looking to hook-up exactly on the day of their birthday while out partying with friends love me. I'm always an appealing option to the chick who feels she's overdue for a piece of ass. Women that are pissed at their husbands love me, too.
Yeah, I attract really defective women. Which makes sense when you think about it. After all, what sane woman is really going to get involved with a guy who never gives her anything back? It takes a chick who really believes she has to pay hell to get into anything with a guy like me.
That's what aloofness gets ya, kids.
Before I proceed, let me provide my standard public service here. Don't do aloofness. It's a bad idea. Especially if it's not natural to you.
The top two groups of women I attract are about as divergent as you could possibly imagine.
One group I attract is the hard-working girl with a plan. She is waiting for "The One" to come along. She's usually in college or post-college. And she is working at some menial job to make ends meet. That menial job, where she is invariably working as a cashier or a waitress or a bartender or some other shit service gig, is where she sees me. She spends a lot of time trying to initiate idle chat. She always tries to leverage her break time to talk more with me, sometimes going as far as just telling me when she'll be on her break, or using her break to lurk and say hi if she can figure out the timing to do that.
The other group I attract is the complete fucking trainwreck. This is the girl who will admit to having done cocaine, but it's totally in the past. When I tell her heroine is a dealbreaker, she says she never has done it, but then gets the "oh, shit, he's gonna figure me out before I get a real chance" look on her face. Sometimes she's just a drunk, but not as often as one would hope when swimming in a sea of junkies who claim to be former junkies. These chicks always try to isolate me and ply me with booze. Basically, they are fashioning the patented "oh, it just happened" first-night sex scenario that PUA bloggers like Roissy constantly drone on about when they discuss female rationalization while acting like they never read Freud before.
There's actually a decent amount in between those two. But, that group just covers "humanity". Nothing really to see there, in truth.
I attract the low-achieving, aspiring high-achiever who thinks she just needs the right man in her life. And I attract the low-achieving, low-achiever who is hoping this time she'll find a guy that'll fuck her stupid and . . . who knows?! She ain't thinking that far into the future! That's what my aloofness attracts. I attract hard-working underachievers who are in the market for that one distant, cool guy who is secretly amazing. And I attract pure fuck-ups who are looking for a brutal sociopath to take advantage of them.
What's my theory?
It's the dead eyes. I have dead eyes. That's an absolute personal truth I believe about myself. I had a friend once tell me that when I stand around waiting for people I look like I'm going to rob the place. Various other versions I have been told are that I look like I shit myself, that I look like I'm going to punch the next person who walks past, etc, etc. All basically forms of "you look, angry, scary, depressed, violent".
The thing with women is you'd be surprised how many of them are looking for a guy with the dead eyes. If I'm by myself at the bar and a chick comes in by herself after midnight, you can be almost guaranteed I will be the first guy she locks eyes with. I'm very popular with the chicks who are looking to fuck shit up.
Understand, though, that trait translates to nice girls, too. The hard-working girl with her shit together who sees the well-dressed guy with the dead eyes cross her path is just working from a slightly more delusional premise than the bad bitch. The nice girl is hoping that the hard man has that layer of good underneath. As the folks on the TV Tropes website call it, she's looking for the Jerk With a Heart of Gold. (Yes, it does undermine my sense of being a little bit to consider that I'm just a very bad television trope living out my life in quiet desperation.)
The big difference between the bad bitch and the nice girl is that the bad bitch thinks there's no good to come of this life and she decides to just play for fun. It's pragmatic hyper-realism that eventually bends inward under its own weight and becomes a distinctive form of delusion. It's the belief that life is so hard that all a fucked up girl can do is find a mean to have a fun time with for tonight.
The nice girl, of course, thinks she has a good bead on things, too. She thinks there's a strong, emotionally deep man out there who just needs the right girl to open him up. I always figured this was an unresolved daddy issues thing, because a lot of the nice girls I attract had dads who did jail time. So, essentially, they're objectifying me as a way of working through the idea that whatever was wrong with their fathers, somewhere underneath it all was a caring man who just needed her to love him.
Going into the space between . . . I attract chicks who seem to be really on their ovulation cycle and just have to get it out of their system. Again, the dead-eyed sociopath seems to be a premium choice for the chick who wants to get off. I also attract the "not another birthday" demographic. Chicks in their 30s looking to hook-up exactly on the day of their birthday while out partying with friends love me. I'm always an appealing option to the chick who feels she's overdue for a piece of ass. Women that are pissed at their husbands love me, too.
Yeah, I attract really defective women. Which makes sense when you think about it. After all, what sane woman is really going to get involved with a guy who never gives her anything back? It takes a chick who really believes she has to pay hell to get into anything with a guy like me.
That's what aloofness gets ya, kids.
Monday, July 1, 2013
"Self-sufficient" is a huge red flag in online dating profiles
Something I am slowly learning from my odd forays into online dating is that some shit is just a really a big red flag. Today's case? "I am self-sufficient."
Let's be clear. If a chick lists something you would expect an able-bodied adult to handle on their profile as if it is some kind of fucking accomplishment, that's a problem. The chick who says she's self-sufficient like it's a major point of pride is basically admitting she a fuck up who can barely get through each day without a DUI citation.
Let's be clear, again. Life does not award you any points for basic shit you're expected to do. Feeding yourself is expected. Not being a burden upon society or your family or your friends is expected. Paying your bills and staying out of jail is expected.
Get it?
If you think any of those things is an accomplishment, your parents made some serious fucking mistakes raising you. And you need to focus you energies on real personal growth, rather than asking the world to clap harder for your meager accomplishments. Life sucks. Getting out of bed and pulling your shit together enough to not starve sucks.
No one is required to give you an award for shit.
If a woman acts like she deserves credit for not being a mess, it means at some point it her life she was an absolute trainwreck. In fact, it means at some point in the future that bitch is going to have a relapse and be a trainwreck again. Do you wanna be around when that shit hits that particular fan?
I think not.
Let's be clear. If a chick lists something you would expect an able-bodied adult to handle on their profile as if it is some kind of fucking accomplishment, that's a problem. The chick who says she's self-sufficient like it's a major point of pride is basically admitting she a fuck up who can barely get through each day without a DUI citation.
Let's be clear, again. Life does not award you any points for basic shit you're expected to do. Feeding yourself is expected. Not being a burden upon society or your family or your friends is expected. Paying your bills and staying out of jail is expected.
Get it?
If you think any of those things is an accomplishment, your parents made some serious fucking mistakes raising you. And you need to focus you energies on real personal growth, rather than asking the world to clap harder for your meager accomplishments. Life sucks. Getting out of bed and pulling your shit together enough to not starve sucks.
No one is required to give you an award for shit.
If a woman acts like she deserves credit for not being a mess, it means at some point it her life she was an absolute trainwreck. In fact, it means at some point in the future that bitch is going to have a relapse and be a trainwreck again. Do you wanna be around when that shit hits that particular fan?
I think not.
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