Tag Archives: dating

Dating in LA: Pros

11 Jun

Here is the real problem with “dating in LA.”  I hate even typing that phrase.  “dating in LA.”  Which, everyone says it over and over again that “it’s hard to meet someone in LA.”  Yes, it is hard to meet someone in LA if you are stupid, ugly, annoying, old and fat.  It is perhaps not as hard to meet someone in Mobile, Alabama even if you have one or more of these qualities because once you find someone and they find you, you are sticking together because what the fuck else can you get.

But it is “hard to meet someone in LA” even if you are a six foot one employed white male with 9 per cent body fat and a decent tan and a full head of hair that even has some cool, like, the perfect very slight amount of graying going on, and a reasonably strong jawline, and an IQ three and one half standard deviations above the norm, which is supposedly valued, and a sense of humor probably also three and one half standard deviations above the norm, and good skills and knowledge w/r/t art, and music, and other disciplines that chicks are supposedly interested in and want to discuss.  And a face that, while, no, you are not George Clooney, is litotically “not unattractive,” which is all that everyone except a vanishingly small percentage of the population can hope for. Continue reading

Throwing in the Jizz Towel

16 Apr

So– I no longer give a shit about getting laid.  Or I do, on a visceral level, like if I see a hot young chick with big tits jogging down the street I get horny.  Whenever the nineteen year old mailroom girl comes by to deliver the mail, I get all pheromonal.  We have a thing together, a flirtatious thing.  I need to figure out how to make something happen with that.

Except I don’t, because that’s the thing.  Aside from the most basic animal lust, I do not give a shit about getting laid.  I will not go through the slightest effort to get laid.  I will not say or do anything at any time that is any different than if I were not trying to get laid.  Which I’m not.  Trying to get laid.

Like– twice in the past few weeks I’ve had good first dates with hot, reasonably interesting girls that I’ve gotten along well with.  Perfectly solid girls.  4 stars on OKCupid for sure.  Each time we ended up back at the apartment and it got physical; in one case the chick wouldn’t take out her puss cuz she had a yeast infection, in the other I ended up performing oral sex on her.  So while obviously I tried to have sex on the first date and it didn’t happen, sex on the second date, which in both cases we had quasi-planned that night– sex on the second date was fucking GUARANTEED.  And both times, I blew it off.  I did the thing that girls do to me– I texted them that day that I couldn’t make it without proposing a specific other time that we could go out.  Because it was too hot, I was too hung over, the drive was going to be a pain in the ass… I did not make the simple effort just to go and harvest the fucking that I had painstakingly sewn on those first dates.  I could not be bothered to reach my hand up and pluck the ripe fruit from the tree.  Too much work.  These girls would have had to volunteer to come over to my place some night when I was already drunk basically.

Continue reading

The Legend of Zelda

17 Mar

Going out and trying to meet a girl at a bar is like, when in Legend of Zelda, you had to, to get the raft or something, you had to burn down a bush with the candle. And you didn’t know which bush. There are thousands of bushes in the game. So you just went around with your candle through each screen burning each individual bush. That’s what going out is like, only without the certainty that there even IS a raft, or a ladder, or whateverthefuck it was. Like looking for the raft without the correct issue of Nintendo Power. That’s why Legend of Zelda sucked.

Reader Mailbag: BF Out of My League

15 Mar

(REDACTED) asks:

I guess I want to know why an incredible good looking man would date an average looking woman…I met a hot as hell man who should be dating a supermodel and for some reason he has an interest in me, he’s not pushing sex at all, so I dont think its him thinking I’m desperate and he could easily get into my pants…he just wants to hang out and gives me amazing kisses. I dont get it. I’m an hour away, I dont drive, I dont have a job and I’m very average looking and a little chubby. I’m just not sure how to proceed with him.

Uh, who cares?  Pussy is pussy.  Or in your case, dick is dick.  Or, non-dick is non-dick, since you say he isn’t using you for sex.

Wait, why is that a good thing, that he isn’t fucking you.  That he isn’t “pushing” to fuck you.  Fucking is good.

I mean, I don’t know why he wants to date you.  But who cares.  I used to think that all the time—why on earth would this girl want to be with me, etc.  Every time.  Every time they would stop dating me. No good can ever come of thinking this. Continue reading

Reader Mailbag: How to Suck a Dick

5 Mar

“Anonymous” writes:

I don’t have any specific questions about sex, but I suspect lots of people would appreciate advice/instructions from both of you on how to…do stuff well.

Personally I want blow job advice and general advice like sounds and stuff.

Help us internet loners out.

All right.  How to give a blowjob.

1)    Eat the fucking cum.

Just fucking eat it.  I was getting blown just recently, actually, and as soon as I started actually popping off the girl pulled her head back, aghast, and left me to nut unstimulated into my own navel.  This woman was thirty two years old.  An actress/ waitress.  Unless she is some weird prudish aberration, she has sucked a lot of dicks.  She has had a lot of cum shot in her mouth.  But she pulled her head back—which means she was the kind of girl who, in college, would look you in the eye as she was about to go down and suck your dick and say “tell me if you’re about to cum, OK?”  OK.  They’re never saying that so they can suddenly enhance the experience by giving you an even better blowjob just as you are about to bust that sublime nut– it’s always so they can squeamishly pull away at the last second.  So they can switch from a delightful blowjob to a halfhearted and insulting handjob, because they have a girlish revulsion from “gross” things like the fluid they are trying to suck out of your dick.

Continue reading

Reader Mailbag: How to Be Attractive to Women

15 Feb

(REDACTED) asks:

Long time lurker, first time poster. Needless to say, I love your writing. My question is, “As a guy, what should I do short-term and long-term to increase my attractiveness to the opposite sex?” Please answer the converse question about what a woman can do to increase her attractiveness. Don’t give obvious answers like “hit the gym.”

Well, look, do hit the gym.  Don’t forget how shallow women are, in case you think they’re not.  Women are great about systematically lying to themselves and everyone else about everything, and they have this collective con set up where we think they care most about confidence, personality, etc.  Women and men are much more alike in shallowness than people seem to think– women like a chiseled jaw, a small nose, pumpkinseed shaped deltoids, visible obliques, etc. etc.  The standards for an attractive male body are much more exacting than they are for women.  You better have less than ten per cent body fat, which is physically not so tough but psychologically impossible to maintain unless you take speed.  But get close.  Do hit the gym.  Make yourself look as good and stylish as you possibly can.

And then there’s the whole other part.  Things having to do with extroversion and self-assurance and etc., which all boils down to: the way to be attractive to women is to already be fucking other women.  I get that it’s kind of hard to separate cause and effect here– maybe the guys who are fucking other women are just intrinsically more attractive, but— I don’t know, I’m gonna get religious here for a second: I really do believe they can “smell it on you.”  Walk into a party with a hot chick and walk in solo and see the difference in the way other women treat you. Just like you have to have seed money to get rich, you have to already be getting laid to get laid. Continue reading

Everybody Thinks

13 Feb

it’s so easy for everybody else.

I was at a party.  A party full of gays. Me and a gay guy were talking about dating, and he said something to the effect of: “well it must be great for you, because you’re a straight guy in LA.  You can get whatever you want whenever you want.”

WHAT THE FUCK????!!!!  ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?  Does this guy not know?  Has he not seen every single party and bar and restaurant and grocery store line, ever, in Los Angeles?   There is never an attractive enough to fuck girl ever, and if there is she has a boyfriend, or there are three of them and 10,000 guys, or there is one by herself but she is creeped out at the prospect of even looking at you. And of course he’s never been on one of these online dates  where it seemed like it was going pretty good until you went for the makeout halfway in and she turned her fucking cheek toward you, because it turns out she is new to online dating and hasn’t yet gotten the memo about how the plan is we show up, we drink, we fuck.  She thinks it’s going to be some old-timey courtship from the antebellum South where maybe you get a kiss on the third date if her chaperone nods off after a mint julep on the porch, and then I high five the slaves on my way out.
Continue reading

OKCupid: Eighteen to Thirty-five

12 Feb

I had to change my “looking for” ages from 18-35 to 24-35.  I had to change it because 19 year old girls stopped messaging me once I admitted I was looking for them.  Back when it was originally like 27-33 I used to get a ton of messages from women way under this age range, and I went out with them.  And I had a fucking great time.  So I changed my age range to honestly reflect this.  All correspondence with these girls immediately dried up.

Before this, I’d had to increase the upper limit from 29 to 35, because every response I got to an email clearly indicated that the person thought I was a dirtbag.  I had thought I was being kind of rakishly uncaring about societal mores or whatever and this brazen I-don’t–give-a-shit honesty would get me points, you know.  Because it seemed like every other time I wrote something dickish on my profile, thinking I was pushing the limits of how much of a dick you could be, it only resulted in a huge uptick of messages from hot younger women.  So I thought this dickish 18-29 only move would do that as well.  But shit dried up. Continue reading

To My Future Son: Don’t Have a Career

10 Feb

They tell you, and I don’t know who “they” is because frankly nobody ever told me this but I somehow got the impression anyway—they tell you to get a job and have a career and make money and women will be attracted to you.  “Men like looks,” they say.  “Women like success.” It’s a common countercomplaint when feminists accuse men of objectifying women; the guy will say back “well, you women better stop objectifying my wallet, amirite?” The “take my wife, please!” of antifeminist arguments.

So you go out and get a job.  You try to get into a good college and you study and you intern and you get a toe in the water of some status-y “career” field and you get up early and you stay late and you read work-related material after work and you network with work-related work jerkoffs and you suffer under some cruel old work prick who believes himself better than other human beings because of his work in some lofty status-y career field and you work and you work and you work and you work.  And part of what drives this is the dread instilled in you when you read that in 2020 to put a kid through college will cost sixteen billion dollars and Social Security will have dried up and you better be sitting on a cash hoard of ten million billion trillion dollars conservatively invested because health care costs will have reached the level where only a class of feudal overlords can afford a tongue depressor. And there will be no “safety net;” there is literally nobody who believes programs like Social Security and Medicare will still exist in our financially post-apocalyptic future.  We all know we are headed toward a Randian thunderdome where our old age will be spent guarding a 55 gallon drum of drinking water with a shotgun and removing our own tumors with steak knives.  If you don’t want this to happen, you better sink a bunch of borrowed money into school, and then work. And you better not spend whatever pittance is left of the 22 grand your post-college job earns you on fun; you better save and invest, according to the 401k presentation the commissioned salesperson who gets a small piece of what they withhold from your meager check tells you, because if you don’t, at age 23, begin taking advantage of logarithmic growth to accrue a massive privately-invested nest egg, you will be cannibalized by gangs of cyborg Hottentots, and your bones picked clean. And your children.  And your children’s children. Continue reading

Diary: I Need a Girl

8 Feb

I canceled my drinks with (REDACTED). Even though I like (REDACTED) and would totally enjoy hanging out with her.  She is–  she took me to a museum once.  She is really smart.  She knows a lot about art and literature and stuff.  And I think she kind of had the hots for me.  See, why couldn’t I date someone like that?  A chick who went to Harvard and has her shit together and knows who fucking Albrecht Dürer is and can distinguish between different phases of his career.  Who knows who Lucas Cranach the Elder is.  Someone who has a finely tuned taste for the works of various Northern Renaissance engravers, is what I need.  Someone who can tell apart multiple different interpretations of works by Claude Debussy.  Who can hear the orchestral version of some Claude Debussy shit and know that it was orchestrated by Maurice Ravel, or whoeverthefuck. Who legitimately enjoys these things. Someone who knows about plants and animals. Hummingbirds. Insects. Continue reading

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