Wow, I've seen some ridiculous things in the online dating world, but the recent response I got to an innocent first contact takes the cake, confirming all my negative stereotypes about women and humanity in general. This particular pile of carbon left the majority of their profile blank, but their honesty in what they DID say intrigued me so I inquired as to how much more they might be willing to divulge, here's the response I got:
"The rest is none of your business unless I find you worthy of my time. I
read a bit of your profile and I don't see how we could even have a
conversation."
Now, the funny thing about this, what I can't wrap my mind around is why this person would bother to write this response except to be sadistic. Seriously, why waste your time and mine with such a response? My guess is she was a child-lover and got offended by my staunchly anti-child rhetoric, but honestly, if you're going to be stupid enough not to be more open about yourself, and you think so highly of yourself as to think others "unworthy" of the effort to write more about yourself that would keep people you don't want writing you from writing you, then you DESERVE to be offended and to have your time wasted by losers such as myself.
Humans...good for nothing but shark chum.
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
The Man You Love to Hate vs... The Man You Hate to Love
I don't "get" the fascination women have with "bad boys." I mean, what exactly is the appeal of not knowing whether your significant other/mate is going to beat you up or get into a high speed chase during your first date? Or of a guy who's more interested in scoring his next fix than he is with your interests/you? Or even if you're not interested in a long term relationship with said bad boy, what exactly is sexy about the possibility of waking up in the morning after your "passionate tryst" (as those inclined to believe the fantasy would call an emotionless one-night-stand) only to discover that "Mr. Wrong" has robbed you and given you an STD (because he's not responsible enough to wear protection - that's for sissies!)?
The thing that really gets me about this bizarre affection for the worse members of society is how it contradicts that other obsession women have when it comes to men, that being a good father for children - a loving family man. Even if you maintain that foolish notion of having the power to "change" your man, why bother? Why gamble with divorce due to infidelity or child abuse or squandering away junior's college funds?
Now conversely, I can easily explain the appeal of the "nice girl" that no woman wants to be (they want to come off as sexy and naughty [without actually being interested in sex], because that's what bad boys go for, and they know they can use their sexuality to manipulate the more feeble-minded members of the male gender). With the nice girl, you have the exact opposite set of circumstances that one might have with the "bad boy" or the "naughty girl."
It probably comes down to the same reason so many women secretly like to be dominated (if you don't believe me, try going to a "specialty 'dating' site" some time and looking at what the fetish of the majority of the women on there is) while publicly crying for equality and independence. And that reason is probably that they had a shitty father figure in their lives because their mother fell for a "bad boy" and was too stubborn/stupid to leave the asshole for a "nice guy," so their image of what makes a "man" is the traits that their father possessed. And thus it goes on, and on, and on. Until the "nice guy" snaps because of isolation and being mocked for being a "pussy" and he goes on a killing spree, and thus becomes the "bad boy" and gets loads of fan mail from female admirers while he's in prison (or gets married in prison ala Richard Ramirez, etc.).
Ain't life grand?
The thing that really gets me about this bizarre affection for the worse members of society is how it contradicts that other obsession women have when it comes to men, that being a good father for children - a loving family man. Even if you maintain that foolish notion of having the power to "change" your man, why bother? Why gamble with divorce due to infidelity or child abuse or squandering away junior's college funds?
Now conversely, I can easily explain the appeal of the "nice girl" that no woman wants to be (they want to come off as sexy and naughty [without actually being interested in sex], because that's what bad boys go for, and they know they can use their sexuality to manipulate the more feeble-minded members of the male gender). With the nice girl, you have the exact opposite set of circumstances that one might have with the "bad boy" or the "naughty girl."
It probably comes down to the same reason so many women secretly like to be dominated (if you don't believe me, try going to a "specialty 'dating' site" some time and looking at what the fetish of the majority of the women on there is) while publicly crying for equality and independence. And that reason is probably that they had a shitty father figure in their lives because their mother fell for a "bad boy" and was too stubborn/stupid to leave the asshole for a "nice guy," so their image of what makes a "man" is the traits that their father possessed. And thus it goes on, and on, and on. Until the "nice guy" snaps because of isolation and being mocked for being a "pussy" and he goes on a killing spree, and thus becomes the "bad boy" and gets loads of fan mail from female admirers while he's in prison (or gets married in prison ala Richard Ramirez, etc.).
Ain't life grand?
Monday, May 6, 2013
"I am the NIGHT RIDER!"
Well, I still have yet to get a speeding ticket (knock on wood), though I got darn close tonight. *whew!* But really, I've said it before I'll say it again: life's too short for speed limits (especially late at night when there are wide open lanes and your car just PREFERS to go 80 rather than 55).
Saturday, May 4, 2013
Just Do It
(First of all, don't worry, this is not a suicide note despite how it might sound here at the beginning)
I understand why people choose to blow their brains out as a means of suicide, and it's not just because it's the most sure-fire method. It's because they hate their brains so much that they want to obliterate them. My brain is really the only reason I've ever thought about suicide, and it's NOT because I'm stupid as my BRAIN would have me believe. I mean, I have a pretty cushy life - steady and well paying job, safe and fairly comfortable shelter, ample sustenance, no debilitating diseases, etc. If I could turn off all non-purposeful thought in my brain, I wager I'd be a pretty happy camper. But my brain will simply not SHUT UP and let me live.
And it's not just the constant regrets and critical analysis of every miniscule thing I do and say, it's even my dreams. Not only do I get to deal with the recurring nightmares about my high school and college years, but I get gems like the one I had last night. First of all, it involved me rollerblading. Now, to the average Joe this might not seem like a big deal, but I'm a skateboarder - I don't like rollerblading or rollerbladers - why can't I dream about skateboarding? And this is not the first dream I've had that had me rollerblading by any means - I've had numerous. WHY?! But much, much worse than the rollerblading (which isn't really so bad because it's kind of like flying the way I do it in my dreams) was the deal with women. So, if you know me, you know I don't have much luck with "the ladies." So I'd kinda hope that dreams would offer some respite from the romantic doldrums, but NOOOOO! So basically, there was this girl from my past - we'll call her Becky - who I had a bit of a secret, subtle crush on back in the day. Becky wasn't necessarily what you'd call a "hottie," but she had a certain charm to her, and she was a nice girl. There was some interaction between us and I'm fairly certain we danced together at a few dances, but we never got to the point of "dating" or "going steady" as it was called back then. I guess I always wished we could've but it "wasn't meant to be." Anyway, so in this dream Becky had come back to town to visit while some weird festival was going on, and we got to hanging out, and she had blossomed into a very appealing (to me) young lady, although a little wilder than I would've liked/expected. So I started to fall pretty hard for her, but it seemed she had a man "back home." Unfortunately, this did not prevent her from exhibiting very warm and even downright flirtatious behavior towards me. I try to ignore it since I know it won't amount to anything because she's got someone else, but I'm also powerfully smitten. So at one point we're sitting by a lake at night, talking about her imminent departure, and there's a cold breeze and she's waxing depressedly about how she'd like to move back here or whatever, and then - and I totally see it coming - she gets up, walks over to me, and snuggles up close to get out of the wind. I can't resist, and I go to put my arm around her, and...she stops me saying she can't because of what's "back in (her home town)" i.e. her boyfriend. This irritates me to no end, and what's worse is that we end up holding hands, and she's all leaning up against me and such - total romantic setting city EXCEPT for the fact that it's not. Fun stuff right? F$%&!!
So anyway, I wake up and can't stop thinking about this stupid dream, so here I am dwelling on it. *sigh* What a bunch of B.S. It's just like my waking George Costanza existence: if I like them, they don't like me; if they like me, I don't like them. I've kind of lost my train of thought at this point, but I just felt like expressing my personal desire to blow my brains out right now, but keep living. You know what I'm saying? Alright, I'm going to try and go do something productive to get my mind off all this now. Thank you for listening oh anonymous vacuum of the interwebs.
I understand why people choose to blow their brains out as a means of suicide, and it's not just because it's the most sure-fire method. It's because they hate their brains so much that they want to obliterate them. My brain is really the only reason I've ever thought about suicide, and it's NOT because I'm stupid as my BRAIN would have me believe. I mean, I have a pretty cushy life - steady and well paying job, safe and fairly comfortable shelter, ample sustenance, no debilitating diseases, etc. If I could turn off all non-purposeful thought in my brain, I wager I'd be a pretty happy camper. But my brain will simply not SHUT UP and let me live.
And it's not just the constant regrets and critical analysis of every miniscule thing I do and say, it's even my dreams. Not only do I get to deal with the recurring nightmares about my high school and college years, but I get gems like the one I had last night. First of all, it involved me rollerblading. Now, to the average Joe this might not seem like a big deal, but I'm a skateboarder - I don't like rollerblading or rollerbladers - why can't I dream about skateboarding? And this is not the first dream I've had that had me rollerblading by any means - I've had numerous. WHY?! But much, much worse than the rollerblading (which isn't really so bad because it's kind of like flying the way I do it in my dreams) was the deal with women. So, if you know me, you know I don't have much luck with "the ladies." So I'd kinda hope that dreams would offer some respite from the romantic doldrums, but NOOOOO! So basically, there was this girl from my past - we'll call her Becky - who I had a bit of a secret, subtle crush on back in the day. Becky wasn't necessarily what you'd call a "hottie," but she had a certain charm to her, and she was a nice girl. There was some interaction between us and I'm fairly certain we danced together at a few dances, but we never got to the point of "dating" or "going steady" as it was called back then. I guess I always wished we could've but it "wasn't meant to be." Anyway, so in this dream Becky had come back to town to visit while some weird festival was going on, and we got to hanging out, and she had blossomed into a very appealing (to me) young lady, although a little wilder than I would've liked/expected. So I started to fall pretty hard for her, but it seemed she had a man "back home." Unfortunately, this did not prevent her from exhibiting very warm and even downright flirtatious behavior towards me. I try to ignore it since I know it won't amount to anything because she's got someone else, but I'm also powerfully smitten. So at one point we're sitting by a lake at night, talking about her imminent departure, and there's a cold breeze and she's waxing depressedly about how she'd like to move back here or whatever, and then - and I totally see it coming - she gets up, walks over to me, and snuggles up close to get out of the wind. I can't resist, and I go to put my arm around her, and...she stops me saying she can't because of what's "back in (her home town)" i.e. her boyfriend. This irritates me to no end, and what's worse is that we end up holding hands, and she's all leaning up against me and such - total romantic setting city EXCEPT for the fact that it's not. Fun stuff right? F$%&!!
So anyway, I wake up and can't stop thinking about this stupid dream, so here I am dwelling on it. *sigh* What a bunch of B.S. It's just like my waking George Costanza existence: if I like them, they don't like me; if they like me, I don't like them. I've kind of lost my train of thought at this point, but I just felt like expressing my personal desire to blow my brains out right now, but keep living. You know what I'm saying? Alright, I'm going to try and go do something productive to get my mind off all this now. Thank you for listening oh anonymous vacuum of the interwebs.
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