Misadventures in Dating

Went to see the movie last night. Fucking brilliant!

A few people told me it reminded them of me/my blog. Not expecting much I sat there thinking about the chick next to me and the fact that all I wanted to do was twiddle her bead.

First off the move is spot on, men are simple and we are all the same. No matter how we dress it up, we are all full of shit and are thinking about getting into your knickers.

Now being an asshole is actually about being confident. I know what you’re thinking, but bear with me. It’s being confident in what you know and believe to be true. The conviction to stick with it.

Women are no different from men in that they to play a game. They parade around in their tight clothes with their tits and ass hanging out, dropping a chunk of their salary on haircuts, makeup and the like.

Lets get down to the crux of the matter. I BLAME FUCKING DISNEY! They have underhandedly convinced little girls out that there is a prince charming that will come and take care of them. BULLSHIT! I say. Take this line I pulled out of a chicks profile;

…Fairy tales I have grown up on… and so on…

The man they end up marrying is usually the one they can deal with and is not an “asshole” which is all relative to the guys they have dated. And if he is one of those unlucky bastards, he is probably well on his way to being emasculated…

Here is another excerpt from the profile on who she is looking for;

About You: Intelligent and witty, with a great sense of humor. Fun, outgoing, confident, and attractive. Kind, empathetic and concerned about issues larger than yourself. Open-minded and insightful. You value intelligence, self-assuredness and spunk in a woman. You are a good conversationalist; you believe in the importance of good communication and are relatively at ease when expressing yourself. You enjoy traveling and exploring other cultures. You take care of yourself and take pride in your physical appearance. You are passionate and a romantic at heart. And, you are my friend.

What about the flaws? Or does a mans checklist not have room in there for them? Now is it me, or is she looking for a bloody robot?

I mean come on! What happened to individuality and going against the grain. Has the world been reduced to being a pack of sheeple that are guided towards trashy reality shows and a gossip culture so as to not pay attention to the real problems facing us? When last have any of you researched a topic or issue and not just taken it at face value because the Times or WSJ told you what they think you should know?

Anyway, at the end of the day, chicks dig assholes and assholes dig hot chicks.

Speaking of which here is my fave quote out of the movie;

Mike: You’re all about comfort and efficiency!

Abby Richter: What’s wrong with comfort and efficiency?

Mike: Well nothing, except no one wants to fuck it.

So if you’re fat, hit the stair-master shed a few pounds and slut it up a bit. If you are ugly, well god help you.

Now guys, go bag some snatch!

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Pride, it’s one of the Seven Deadly Sins for a reason.

Some guys wait until they’re drunk, slurring their words, saving everything up, for one shot at pussy. These guys wait all night until they finally have enough courage to put the moves on a chick, they put the moves on, and they get knocked back.

So what? Move on.

In a bar, forget your Pride. Forget your Pride!

Let’s talk numbers. Sure, there are times that the numbers can work against you. But very often the numbers are nothing less than your best friend. Let’s say you’re in a bar of 500 people and 150 are chicks. If you walk up to 150 chicks and use lamest line on earth, one of them will, still, want to fuck you. Of course she will! Most people in bars are single or cheating. Girls like fucking too. So assuming you’ve got slightly better than the lamest line on earth, you should be in pretty good shape.

It’s just a numbers game. Persistence will rule the day.

Aside: They beauty of this rule is that once you sack up and forget about your pride, you will be the coolest guy in your group. You will be getting ass just about every time you go out and people will begin to talk about you as though you are a legend or they may even be jealous and call it a streak. Regardless, you are the one getting laid while those other chumps go home and turn their porn on again because they have no sack and are worried about what a drunk girl who doesn’t know them is going to say. Fuckin’ easy eh?

The rules apply even if you’re in a group. Whether the girls you are with are friends or friends of friends, or people you’re meeting for the first time, it really doesn’t mean anything to anybody if you put your moves on.

What have you got to lose? Your Pride? I thought we gave that up at the beginning of the chapter.

Advice: Leave your Pride at home. Go to the bar knowing that it’s a crap shoot, and that the house ain’t favored in this game. It’s fixed. Just remember that most of the guys in the bar are pussies, waiting with their Pride for their Big Moment, just like you used to. Get over it, and get in there. You’d be surprised if you knew all the things they were willing to do.

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The Thirst that is impossible to quench.

People are such a funny animal. We are taught to be a certain way, do certain things and live a certain way. When we are children, we are taught to play fair and share our toys. When we are teenagers, we are taught to study hard and go to school to make better lives for ourselves. When we are out of school  we are told to work hard and keep focus to have a good future and become successful. All this is for what? Yes you are right it is all in the master goal of getting married and having children and propagating.

There is one problem, we are also taught and told that once you are married you are to stay faithful and be a good husband. There is one problem with all of this. Everything that we discussed about children and growing up and working are tasks that are reasonable and possible to attain. The one final task is literally impossible. It is like asking me to fly. FLY? What you fucking blind man. How the fuck do you expect me to fly? Do you see any fucking wings on my back? Do I look like a fucking pterodactyl?

That is exactly the point. There is and will always be a thirst that is impossible to quench and that is the thirst for new pussy. I don’t care who you are and what you say, every single man feels exactly the same way about this. It is like the empty pit in your stomach that is never filled. One can spend days and nights thinking about a solution to this and come up with absolutely nothing.

Aside: Yes many of you may say that there is an answer to this problem and all it is is to go out and bang a chick when no one is around and you will be fine. No my friend. The problem is that women are trained to know and smell weakness and tom foolery in you. See chapter on They are trained to complain..Don’t think that these thoughts are new to the world you dummy. This has been going on for centuries and all those mothers who have taught their daughters to hate because they hate, have taught them the same thing. And let me tell you the first lesson they teach them , is to complain. It is the lesson of trying to find out if you are fucking around on them. It is a lesson that they will never master, but we are such stupid animals that we have no idea how to tell the difference and we seem to get caught EVERY TIME. Oh and let me tell you once you are caught there is no forgetting! Ever…

I must admit that there is one thing that I do appreciate about Arab culture and it’s that they know and understand how men are and they accept that we must have more than one piece of ass. The only problem with those idiots is that they go and marry all these broads and what do you have then? Multiple women who are taught to hate you…Fucking morons!

Just the other night, I went to dinner with a chick. Sitting at a table right next to us was this couple and the piece of ass that was with this guy made me want to puke on my food and still eat it because the puke was caused by such a beautiful piece of ass. I mean I even sat right in front of her just so I could stare at her with my piercing glare. See chapter on The piercing glare. All I did was think about banging this chick an telling her I love her. While I knew from her dumb ass smile I would be more mean to her than anyone I have ever had the chance to be mean to. I mean this chick was dumb. At the same time I wondered whether I would allow her to shit on my face just to see her pussy. Sadly enough the answer was yes. I would allow her to shit on my face just to have a chance to get a glimpse of that beautiful little pussy.

Advice: Move to Iran, marry your cousin and live a peaceful life with no worries about the thirst. Because I can guarantee you that you will not fuck with cheating in that country. There is one thing that will get my mind off of pussy and that is spending my life in jail. Or you can go to the doctor and start that shock therapy they used to do the homosexuals in the 50’s. Whatever way you look at it, you are cursed for ever. This maybe some sort of payback for all of the bad things that you did in the past.

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It’s always worth it.

Have you ever been hooking up with a girl and she pulls away and says, “It’s that time of month.” She thinks she’s getting away, but she’s not. Don’t be a pussy. Get down there and lick her clit (there’s no blood on her clit). That will shock the shit out of her. Then you have to pull up. Pretend you’re going to touch her pussy. Grab that little white string and yank it out before she can respond. See what she says then.

The murder scene is for true troopers. Not for the faint of heart. She’ll never forget you for it.

Trust me, you’re not the first or the last one to do it to this girl, and this girl won’t be your last. Remember, like Rusty from National Lampoons Vacation (see chapter: Holidays: Don’t Dress Like an asshole), the term, ‘Getting your Red Wings’ wasn’t made up.

Aside: If you’re in a hotel room and building up for the murder scene, make sure you put the ‘do not disturb sign on the door’. Chances are, you’ll be passed out asleep in the morning when the maid walks in. She’ll think you killed the dirty bitch (who likes to fuck on the rag) and next thing you know, there’ll be a room full of cops writing reports and looking at the blood all over both of your bodies.

Aside aside: So now you should know that the murder scene can go a lot further than banging a bitch on the rag. You have to be careful of the possible situations that you may be in and find yourself being arrested for the attempted murder. Recently, I was taking a collegue home from an event and nothing big other than conversation etc. Then a couple of days later, (I hadn’t driven the car for a couple days) I get into the car and notice something I have seen before, but not in the same spot as I have previously seen…I saw a bunch of blood and muck on the seat of my car and it look surprisingly similar to the muck I have seen many times before on my pig. Now putting 2 and 2 together I figured out that my collegue was on the rag, wearing a skirt and bled all over my fucking seat…I mean either this broad was shot in the pussy unbeknownst to me or she bled through her fucking tampon and skirt. Either way, I wasn’t grossed out because I know the feeling…But I did learn a lesson and that was to be extremely careful about women in skirts coming into my car. What if she was 14 and just got her rag? Embarrased and a bithc like all women are. All she would have to do is lie and blame me. Next thing you know I’m in jail cause of a bithc on the rag. Carry wet naps…

To truly earn the red wings (with honors), during the build up to having sex and throughout the gory act, you have to repeatedly tell her how much you love it, how much the blood and muck turns you on. Once it’s all over, the second you get up to go to the bathroom to clean that dirty mess off your pig (see Vocabulary), you should make a point of staring down at the dirty, bloody, black piece of cotton that’s been in her pussy for fourteen hours and smells like a dead rat, and go, “Iiughkh!” This will remind her that letting a guy fuck you on the rag is not really cool, and that she’s a dirty smelly whore (even your girlfriend). She’s owes you. This will make her remember that you are a better person than her (see chapter: Always Make Them Feel That You’re Better Than Them).

Special Note: No matter how many times this happens to them, for some mystical reason (probably something to do with the moon) they’ll never remember. It’s like a dog eating peanut butter. They’ll never just think, ‘No, that’ll make me feel like shit.’ You can give a fucking dog peanut butter fifteen days in a row and it’ll never know. The rag only lasts for four. This means that you are able to repeat the murder scene over and over again, even if you choose to really go for gold and humiliate them afterwards. Murder scenes are a special gift.

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Streak?  What Streak?
Throwing the dice again? Shit, man, you hit another six!

Sometimes you just can’t put a foot wrong. It happens to everyone. Please, gentlemen, when this happens, when you go on a run, a roll, if you’ve caught a wave, if you’ve spent the past three months just banging, and banging, every piece of ass that you happened to speak to in a bar, or a coffee shop, at the fucking dentist’s office, don’t ever, ever, let anyone call it a streak.

That’s like giving up everything you just spent three hard months building.

For a brief time, you have become a king. People revere you. Don’t forget, perception is everything. What about the ugly guy who always seems to screw hot chicks? It’s nothing to do with his looks. He just believes it. And he lets everyone else believe it. He’s unstoppable. And so are you.

Once you admit to the streak, you lose everything. Chicks smell success, they smell failure. They are like dogs. It’s not luck, and it’s not a fucking streak. Carry your notches with you like a warrior.

Aside: If you got laid last night, don’t wash your pig (the French know this). The smell emanates from you, like a huge marquee advertisement for your sexual prowess. Their little greedy nostrils will start flaring the moment you walk into the bar. “I want some of that,” they’ll be thinking. “What’s so good about that asshole?” Trust me: they’ll give it a shot.

Curiosity killed the cat. Now use curiosity to kill the pussy.

Advise: Completely delete the word ‘streak’ from your vocabulary. Tear the section out of the dictionary. It’s worthless.

Answer anyone who tries to suggest that you’re on a streak with this simple answer: “Streak? What Streak? This is my life, bitch!”

Casual Dater Commentary, JBIC, Men's Interest, Misadventures in Dating - The Book Bad luck, Streak

…Somewhere there is a man tired of fucking her – Dennis Rodman

If you are looking for a wife, that’s one thing. You are probably losing a bit of hair and wondering if you might find yourself bald, fat, with nobody to dial 911 if you slip and fall on your lard-ass in the shower. She can cook your dinners and make you even fatter and fuck the gardener when you’re out at the gym trying to lose the weight that she told you to lose. Good luck, asshole.

For the rest of us, we often make the mistake of enjoying a piece of ass a little bit too much. Now, this is a tough rule to stick to. Hell, you’ll break it. I broke it only last week. But like alcoholism, admitting you have a problem is half the battle. So please, please try to stick to the Two Time Max principle. Your life will immediately seem brighter, lighter, and freer.

Fuck a girl once. Fuck her again. That’s twice, douche bag. Wrap it up.

We’ve all been there. The moment you break a girl down and finally fuck her, you are immediately burdened with a sinking gray feeling, a kind of nausea. How the hell are you going to get rid of this broad, and, worse, how are you going to avoid seeing her in the near future? Now, what happens in most cases is that we turn all crackly, like the junkies in the street. Once we get rid of her, we suddenly start wishing the pussy was around again. We’re on the phone the next night, calling it back. Like I said, this is a hard one to stick to. Pussy is hard to resist, especially easy pussy.

Before you know it, you are walking around with that permanent Man-Frown. Sure, you’re getting laid. You call her up. She calls you. You meet. But you are losing yourself in the gray cloud. And you know it. It’s not as though that feeling – that same feeling you had the first time, wishing you could get rid of her – has gone away. You still get that feeling all the time. But now, like crack, you are hooked. You are feeding off the nipple like a little fucking baby. And she has your balls in a vice.

Aside: The Man-Frown is nature’s way of telling you to get some new pussy. Make the mirror your friend. Think about how you look when you are free and single, how your eyes sparkle, how you smirk. That bitch will rob you of all of this, and you’ll start frowning. Your skin will turn grey and you’ll end up walking with a hunch. Stand up straight – pussy – and take that fucking lame frown off your face!

After a while, because you didn’t follow the Two Time Max principle, you have turned into the guy who doesn’t know why he’s getting married. You were not even looking for a wife in the first place! I thought we established that. But now, you are marrying some random piece of ass to which you just happened to get addicted.

Advice: Decide whether or not you are in the market for a wife. If the answer is ‘no’, then there is absolutely no reason to visit the same piece of ass any more than twice.

Are you going to run out of girls to choose from? Fuckface? There are millions of them out there. Stick to Two Times Max and you will be alright. (Or maybe just three…).

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Part One: Women.

We all know the exhilaration when we get to tell our boys about banging a really hot chick. I mean, REALLY hot. You feel like a million bucks and you say to them, “She was a 10. A fucking Ten!” Hopefully, you took pictures. You even tell your dad about it, to make him smile.

But the truth is, most of the time we don’t bang Tens. The guy who always goes for Tens has the sex life of a Chinese Panda. Don’t be this guy. Aim for a Healthy 7.

Going for the Healthy 7 doesn’t mean you’ll never bang 8s, 9s, or 10s. In fact, it’s quite the opposite.

1. If you are aiming for the Healthy 7 then you are probably having a lot of sex. Men who have a lot of sex attract women easier. It’s like they can smell the pussy on your pig. They sense it, at least, and so by aiming for the Healthy 7, you’ll probably pick up more Tens anyway.
2. Girls, like us, hang out in groups. In each group, there are a couple of hotties, a bunch who are average, and a couple of butt-uglies/fatties.

Now, we know that girls don’t like each other, so if you aim straight and true at the Healthy 7, you can assume that her better-looking friends are instantly jealous and somewhat self-conscious (“Why didn’t he come over to me?”). Hit it hard, don’t deviate. Take home the Healthy 7 and. She will report back to her friends and the better-looking members of her group will instantly start plotting their own evil pathway into your pants.

Guess who comes out on top? That would be you.

Aside: If, by some fucked up chance, you are looking for a wife, you could do a whole lot worse than a Healthy 7. We all know what Tens are like. They are cunts. If you marry a Ten she will cheat on you, or at least you’ll always think she’s cheating on you, which is actually worse. She won’t cook or clean or look after you in any way. She’ll spend all of your money and she’ll fuck you whenever she pleases, because she’s probably better looking than you. If you marry a Healthy 7, she’ll always wonder if you’ve got other women on the side and try all the harder to please you.

Part Two: Men.

The concept of the Healthy 7 can apply to us men, too, but in a slightly different way. This has to do with our sexual performance. We have all, at least once in our lives (or at least, I hope we can say this) fucked like a porn star. We are the Ten. There are those times when we fuck a girl and we are champions. We put our best foot forward, make them cum a ton of times, and have a cock made of steel for as long as we need it.

Most of us know that this is a fleeting moment, a stroke of luck, that there is no way we can perform that well every time. Some of us, on the other hand, try to be Tens every time, and end up disappointed .

Don’t disappoint yourself, douchbag. Aim for a Healthy 7. If you can perform relatively well, somewhere above average, then your girl will fall asleep happy, and she will remember you fondly. This is the most you can really ask for. Trust me, many a man has tried to be a Ten and failed, at which point the trying to fuck like a porn star can bite you in the ass. She’ll expect it every time and GPA goes down to around Three. You’ll end up feeling inadequate. If you can maintain a good, Healthy 7 as often as possible, the response, and the word on the street will be positive, and you’ll rest easy.

Advice: It’s all about playing for averages. Sure, sometimes you hit a Bogey, and others you Birdie. Sometimes you hit an Eagle and you jump for joy, but don’t start expecting an Eagle every time. The course is long. Play for Par. There is somethinig to be said for consistency.

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We should sometimes learn from the politicians who govern our country. OK, they aren’t necessarily upright citizens, but then again, neither are you.

Every question that is posed to you has an answer that that someone wants to hear.

Or, another way to say it is: each question has an official and an unofficial answer.

This isn’t dishonest, it’s just feeding people the information that will serve them best. And of course will get you out of a conversation that last for 4 hours with no possible success for you.

Aside: Providing too much information is not going to get you any awards or monetary compensation. Give people the answer that they want to hear and include a version of the truth in there. Keep it short so they cannot tear it apart and find the flaws in your story. It’s simple so keep it simple.

So, from this point on, understand that your first response to any question is always the official answer. The only choice you have to make is whether you disclose any unofficial information.

“What time did you get home last night?”

Now, if the person asking this question is your girlfriend, you simply say, “Around midnight.” Job done.

If the question is asked by your best friend, you still provide the official answer, but it sounds slightly different. Something like this:

“Officially? Midnight. Unofficially? Errr, Four-thirty.”

This way you have still towed a certain party line, and those who are privy to the unofficial information understand that the information is not for public consumption. You have protected yourself.

Applications: cheating, lying, drug use, stealing, eating (if you are fat – “did you eat that pizza that was in the fridge?” – “Absolutely not.”), and getting out of attending parties or functions that you do not wish to attend .

Random examples:

• “I tried it once, but it made me feel jumpy and I couldn’t sleep. I don’t like it.”
• “Yeah, we had a couple of beers.”
• “No of course I’m not cheating on you.”
• “Porn? Yeah, I’ve watched it a few times before.”
• “Of course I always wear condoms.”

Advice: The public always wants the official answer. Don’t deprive your public of what they want.

Who is the public, you may ask?

1. Your girlfriend, wife, or latest piece of ass.
2. Your parents.
3. Strangers.

Information is power. Don’t put yourself at risk.

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R.I.P.
The Hist List
3-16-09 to 4-19-09

Having been with us for just over a month, on April 19 2009, the last chic on the list succumbed to the Casual Dater. In honor of these fallen chics I will be updating the blog in the coming weeks describing most, if not all of the sordid liaisons that were a product of the Hit List…

Cheers
-CD

Out of respect for the list (not the chics), I have decided to retire the word “chic” from all future posts and revert to “chicks.”

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As I was about to post this, I saw The Kinky Gal had a similar entry up.

The Rabbit is more than a trend, it may be the end of man’s power unless we embrace it and make it work to our advantage.

For those of you who do not know what The Rabbit is, ask your wife, or girlfriend, or for that matter, any chick on the street, even your mother.

The Rabbit is a vibrator that ever since Sex And The City, they not only all talk about, but all have at home. If they don’t have one, they want one for Christmas.

A girl recently told me that if she was in bed with a guy who’s performance was mediocre (shit, that could have been me! ). She endured it because in her mind she knew that she could go home after and satisfy herself with her Rabbit.

Now, us men have only two ways of looking at this Rabbit situation:

1. Jealousy. Blow up the company that makes it, go to jail.
2. Embrace The Rabbit. The Rabbit may be able to fuck better than you, longer than you, but just like a calculator, it makes your life easier, and better. Do you hate the calculator because it adds up numbers better than you? No. You use it. Use The Rabbit.

Aside: The Rabbit has more functions that a modern laptop computer, so don’t get cocky. This thing goes up and down, sideways, spins in a fucking circle. You’d need to consult a manual to use it, so don’t be an idiot. Let your girl use it, then gradually get involved. If you try steaming in there like you know what you’re doing, you might accidentally give her a hysterectomy.

How many men out there have always wanted to watch a girl fuck herself with a vibrator, or even join in while she does it? The answer: everyone. Embrace the Rabbit and go forth.

Advice: If you don’t add jealousy to the equation, she’ll feel OK about letting you watch. There is a rule, though. If she’s using the Rabbit, you can’t grab her half way through and try to fuck her. That’s against the rules. If you do it, you’re a douchbag.

You’ve fucked many times and will fuck again. So has she. How often do you get to watch a chick screaming with a Rabbit inside her? If she’ll do it, just watch. Later on, she’ll probably let you cum on her tits.

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