I just got a missed call from a girl I slept with a while back. I met her off OKC. No condom but I didn’t nut in her. I know she was using no birth control. I called her for a second date but she blew me off and disappeared.
So.
Is she calling me to tell me she gave me AIDS and is pregnant and keeping it? Or because she just broke up with some dude and is going to give me the fucking of a lifetime?
God dammit— why are all you girls so fucking boring. This is how old I am, this is where I’m from, this is what I do– I love my job! I love my family and friends! Go fuck your family and friends. I hope your family and friends are all on a bus and it explodes in a fiery wreck. I hope your job fires you and you are forced to suck dick under an underpass. You will wish your family and friends were there to help you out, but they will have died in a fiery wreck.
Just— you fucking chickenshits have to start showing a little actual personality. Who fucking cares what people think of you— you’re on the goddamn internet. Nobody cares.
Or— let’s just… let’s just assume you love your family and friends. From now on, let’s only make it a point to mention them if you do not love your family and friends. Everybody loves their family and friends, even me. Let’s just say something about your family if they beat and molested you; that’s the only thing that could possibly make them interesting. Even I love my family, although I would gladly trade them in for a family with a shitload of money, and my friends I end up fully replacing about every year and a half.
Originally posted 8/30/11:
So, no one who is possibly reading this post has not heard about this:
The girl who went out with a guy off OKC, found out he was a world champion Magic: the Gathering® player, was ostensibly appalled and wrote a Gizmodo article about how she was stunned and it’s a huge dealbreaker and etc.
Couple things. First, as Forbes was quick to point out, of course this is an obvious troll. This woman, desperate to make a living in the non-lucrative world of blog writing, has just said “fuck it,” you know, I need something that gets a million hits. So I’m gonna write about how I’m a chick who was appalled to date a nerd, thus getting the two commentingist, complainingest groups on the planet to catch fire over my article. Chicks and nerds.
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.
I Gave You 4 Stars.
You gave me 4 stars.
Let’s get hammered on cheap red wine and bone down all nice and juicy to some Vangelis.
I’m good at internet dating.
This means I’m good at taking a girl out, getting her a little drunk, and then fucking her. I’m good at steering the second date to dinner at my house so I don’t have to drive to get laid. I hear a lot of “I’m not usually like this” so I figure, you know, I must be onto something.*
Anyway. Point being, I am good at internet dating, and that is horrible, because it’s one of those things that if you’ve had enough practice to be good at it you’ve failed in some larger sense. Like— being good at pulling your own teeth. Being good at showing people you’re not a pussy when you show up to a new prison. It’s awesome that you’re a badass but the idea is that you figure your shit out and don’t have to go back. I wanted a relationship out of this, not 5,000 pieces of pussy. I wanted some god damn companionship. Someone I can call when the clouds are pretty or something and say, you know, go look at the pretty clouds.
Instead, I have merely gotten a ton of meaningless ass. And then I’ve taken the confidence from getting that ass and taken it into the real world to get other, even more meaningless ass. And it’s made me complacent. Maybe there is viable girlfriend material out there but I can’t be bothered to look for it because I’m driving out to Sherman Oaks to bone some nineteen year old.** Continue reading
REDACTED asks:
I gotta be honest man. You have the best profile I’ve ever read. Both in terms of being well-written, paced and humorous, and also as probably able to wrangle in more women than any other jerkoff profile I’ve seen. Respect.
That being said, I’m curious if you could give me your thoughts on my profile. I know it’s kind of a lame thing to ask, but fuck it, you get it. Do you have any advice for me on how to better attract chicks on here?
OK, well first of all, thank you for saying such nice things. I like my profile, too. I get a lot of these emails because of reddit users briefly discussing me months ago. And most of my visitors are dudes from out of state. So, thanks guys. I wish you were nubile young women from Southern California, but, fuck it. At least someone gives a shit.
But I should tell you– I get an incoming email from an actual girl in my age range about once every two weeks. If this is in fact the best profile on the entirety of OKCupid, and I am a six foot one athletically built white guy who is gainfully employed in a major metropolis, and this is the unsolicited message yield one can expect from an “original” and “humorous” profile, men are genuinely fucked. Plus my response rate on outgoing emails is about fifty per cent, my phone number rate when I ask this fifty percent for it is about fifty percent, the call back rate when I leave a message is about fifty per cent, and the amount of dates that actually result in sexual intercourse or wanting to see the other person again is fifty per cent, and so on. I am in a Zeno’s paradox of pussy where you are walking halfway of halfway of halfway along a wall forever and by the time all the hoops are jumped through the possibility of having an actual relationship is functionally zero. So even if this profile is so fucking great, it’s like– the most lethal Nerf weapon ever invented. There’s just not much you can do. Continue reading
delicioustacos 