No crying in baseball

Today Roosh linked a few blogs written by girls. I am so glad I’m not a girl.

For anyone raised in the post-feminazi era (i.e., after 1975 or so), you were probably raised under the pretense of female equality and subjected to and endless supply of misguided drones marching to the warcry “I am strong, I am invincible, I am woman!” and “I am woman, hear me roar!”

In 2007, I think we should revise that anthem to “I am woman, hear me attempt to mask the fact that I am crying in the girls’ room at work by blowing my nose!”

Don’t believe me? Take a look at Fifteen Percent.

If you don’t want to sift through the dreck, here’s the good part:

Then yesterday happened. Not completely out of the blue, because I’ve had my own concerns and self-doubt about my performance lately — not because I haven’t been working as hard, but because external factors have made it difficult for me to keep the same pace of production. I was not merely reprimanded, but hit with a barrage of what I think are mostly unwarranted criticisms. And it wasn’t even from my direct supervisor, but from a minion — a power-hungry parasite who feeds off others to make himself feel worthwhile. He brought up one criticism that I think is justified, but the rest — while seemingly valid arguments on their own — had no place in this discussion, since the criteria on which I was being judged never were explained to me.

Anyway, midway through our brief meeting, the tears started. And it wasn’t just a tear or two, but a floodgate of emotions that I could not stop for the life of me. And when I’m upset and try to calm myself or stop crying, it just becomes worse. I fled to the downstairs bathroom that no one uses, where I planned to collect myself and allow the requisite 15 or so minutes for my face to return to its normal complexion. Once I got there, however, I cried harder and started feeling sorry for myself for having to hide in the basement bathroom in the first place. Who does this fucker think he is?

I’d like to illustrate a few of the key points here that I find both so amusing an sad, from a male perspective. The differences should be obvious.

First, her understanding of this “minion” who made her cry is so far off base that it doesn’t surprise me that so few women ever make it to CEO. Her choice of words here — “power-hungry parasite who feeds off others to make himself feel worthwhile” is classic. Let me explain something here that most girls (and many men) simply fail to grasp.

The workplace is not a happy cooperative world that revolves around how everyone gets along and monthly social hours. The workplace is a competitive profit-driven world that revolves around men advancing their careers to make as much money as possible. When I am at work, I have two jobs: first, to make my boss look good in front of his bosses, and two, to make myself look better in front of my boss than his other subordinates. Whether I’m actually fitting the job description or doing jumping jacks on the roof in a plastic hula skirt, if I’m fulfilling those two jobs then I am doing what I should be doing.

Personally, I don’t criticize my coworkers as a rule. I’d rather let my work speak for itself because I know my work is better than theirs. I try to keep my coworkers on my good side because that way if I ever need them to do something for me to help me look good in front of my boss, they’ll help me instead of cock blocking me.

See, in the world of men, if you criticize someone in front of other people, you might as well have walked up and punched him in the face. Criticizing your peers in public affects their ability to feed themselves and pay their rent. If you take an aggressive stance like that, you better be prepared to play the game and do some battle because you’ve just made an enemy.

So, your “power-hungry parasite” probably sized you up on day one and figured you were an easy target. A weak, non-threatening target that he could shit on without any consequences, an opponent who is essentially unarmed. And he was probably right. Now, I’m assuming his boss is your boss. And knowing nothing about your boss (probably because you lack insight enough to deliver anything useful), I can’t tell you whether the Parasite was helping himself or hurting himself by snowballing you (presumably in public). Some bosses are very sensitive to this kind of behavior and strongly discourage it, but not all of them.

I’m sure that not even the Parasite expected that what he probably considered relatively tame criticism would cause you to start crying. Let’s imagine the same scenario had played out but instead you were a man, and it’s 1950. You would have been fired on the spot. As Tom Hanks puts it in A League of Their Own, there’s no crying in baseball. Pack your shit up, you’re done. That’s the treatment that a man who starts crying when another man criticizes his work gets, and more importantly, that’s the kind of treatment such a man deserves.

Now push fast forward 57 years to 2007, but you’re still a man. You can’t get fired on the spot anymore — and I’ll explain why in a minute — but you have just willingly put yourself on death row. Your male boss will lose 100% of his respect for you and he will begin to get rid of you. It will take him two years, but he’ll start giving you all the shittiest jobs, all of the lowest raises, and eventually you’ll either quit on your own or he’ll finally get fed up and give you some task that is way over your head on an unrealistic timeline, i.e., set you up for failure, so he can legally fire you. Why? Because there’s no crying in baseball.

The reason a crybaby man in 2007 can’t be instantly fired is because women decided they wanted to enter the workplace and now the workplace is a giant pussified version of its former self. Why? Because women can’t play the game. It’s analagous to pitching the best NFL team against the best WNFL team (if such a league even exists). No matter how hard they try, no matter how much better their coaching is, no matter how much better they may be at the technical, athletic, and strategic aspects of the game of football, the women’s team will lose 100% of the time (and probably be seriously injured or killed) because men are bigger and stronger. In the workplace, men have a completely different attitude, as you’ve witnessed first hand with your run-in with the Parasite. We are aggressive, competitive, blood-thirsty, career-driven, upward-motivated, fearless, and results-driven. Only a small percent of women are capable of competing with (and beating) men in their own game, on their own turf. And it’s because of shit like this.

Women can’t compete because in a male world, the man who cries gets fired instantly. If men applied the same rules to women then you would have been fired on the spot and you would find yourself perpetually unable to find work. There is never any excuse for crying on the job, period.

The reason you stay employed and we let you get away with bullshit like spending 3 hours of your time crying in the bathroom instead of getting work done is because you’ll sue us if we fire you. You know it, we know it, everyone knows it, and somehow the bastardization of the legal system known as the United States courts circa 2007 will award you gobs of money for a “hostile work environment” suit. Work environments are inherently hostile because they are filled with hostile, competitive, aggressive men who are competing with each other for the largest piece of the pie. That’s the game; you wanted to play it, and you’re now finding out that you can’t compete. Why don’t you go home and cry about it? Oh wait, that’s right … that’s exactly what you did, except you didn’t take the afternoon off to sob. You stayed on the clock and collected your pay. No surprise there.

The other phrase that caught my eye was “the criteria on which I was being judged never were explained to me.” If this is how you operate, you are doomed to a very unsuccessful career (even if you manage to curb your natural female instinct to cry any time the going gets tough, like for example someone says something mean to you). We shouldn’t need to explain this shit to you. You are allowed one time, and only one time, in your adult life when this kind of shit flies, and that is the two year grace period the older guys give to the kids straight out of school who are learning all this shit for the first time. If you are 25 or older and you get into a work environment in which you claim to have prior experience, and you can’t even figure out on which criteria you’re being judged, chances are you deserve the criticism.

Look, I’ve been fed this feminism horse shit my entire life, and I’ve seen it contradicted by practically every woman I’ve ever met. You can’t fight millions of years of gender evolution with an idea a bunch of bored women in the 60′s came up with at their knitting club. If you can’t compete with men in the workplace — at the very least by restraining your tears in the face of a few harsh words — maybe you should rope a rich successful man who doesn’t cry on the job into inseminating you so you can stay home all day with the baby and run very important errands such as buying shit you don’t need with his money. Until then, stop whining about your inability to keep your composure on the job. You’re getting paid to produce work, not cry in the bathroom.

Be a man, pay your bills

Let me make this clear: the focus of this blog is not going to be to take what others have written and rag on them, however I will be doing it from time to time.  In this case I felt compelled to respond to this piece by White Dade.

This is the kind of stupid selfish asshole that is ruining America.  If you’re read the piece you can probably tell what I’m talking about.  It’s guys like this who feel entitled to the material wealth around them despite the fact that they’ve done nothing to earn it.  Let’s diagnose:

Like so many young college students, I racked up more than my share of credit card debt. Through four years of shopping at Bal Harbour and going out to South Beach, vacations home and to the Keys, I managed to rack up over 5 figures of debt.

So, while you’re living either on the tab of your parents, the state, or a student loan company without the income to support such spending habits, you spent anyway. And where did the money come from? The credit card company. In effect, you spent someone else’s money and signed a document stating you would pay it back. You were over the age of 18 and therefore are legally responsible for the debt. You agreed to pay the credit company whatever money you charged plus an interest fee as payment for the credit card’s service of providing with you money up front which you didn’t have and could pay back later.

See, here’s the thing: I haven’t charged anything on any of those cards since 2002. Which means, as far as credit reporting goes, that is the last time I incurred a debt. So by 2009 I’m in the clear.

But the fact that you still owe people money is not going to go away. The fact that you didn’t add to your debt is irrelevant because you haven’t paid any of your debt back. You are still carrying debt. It doesn’t vanish from your credit report simply because it didn’t get any larger for 7 years. It also didn’t get smaller because you haven’t paid down your principal. And don’t forget, even though you didn’t charge anything new, those interest payments for the balance you’re not paying down are still accumulating.

That’s 7 years I could have spent paying money, or seven years I could have spent spending money. Guess which I chose. And what was the consequence? Well, my credit score is probably lower than my age, so that would then preclude me from large scale borrowing for a house or a new car. Neither of which I am in a financial position to do anyway.

That’s also 7 years you could have been saving money so you would be in a financial position to buy a house or a new car. So, you wracked up lots of debt buying shit you didn’t need living a lifestyle you couldn’t afford, and instead of taking responsibility for living a high life you, as a non-contributing member of society, a.k.a. a completely unproven college child, you chose to spend more money on shit you didn’t need living a life style you didn’t deserve. And why didn’t you deserve it? Because your completely immoral, dishonorable, illegal, and down-right wrong attitude that you didn’t need to pay your credit card company back for their money that you spent, makes you a thief. More on that later.

I can’t get any more credit cards, but at this point that’s kind of like telling a cokehead “Okay, since you abused that drug that almost ruined your life, you can’t have any more?” Really? Damn. And I was hoping you guys could ass-rape me with interest some more.

Did you know that if you pay off your credit card balance every month, you never accrue finance charges?. That’s right. You pay nothing for the use of their service. They still make money on you because every time you use their card to buy something the merchant you bought it from has to pay them a small percent of the sale price. You can use your credit card like a cash advance without ever paying them for the privilige, and at the same time they make money and most credit cards these days have rewards programs that actually give you gifts for using their service.

Do you know how you get “ass-raped” by interest? By living outside your means. If you charge something that you cannot afford to pay off next month, save your money instead for a few months so that you can pay in cash. Does this defeat the purpose of a credit card? Maybe. As a responsible user of credit, I sometimes charge something that I don’t have the money in the bank for. But when I do that, I don’t bitch about the 12% interest they charge me on the balance every month because I knew they’d charge me it when I made the purchase and I was willing to pay it because I needed to pay a large lump some on an income that is based on smaller monthly payments (i.e., a salary). The only time I ever carried a balance, I used it to pay for a summer vacation. Yeah, I could have waited and saved money but by then it’s not summer anymore. That’s what credit is used for. And at that time, I was still in the 0% interest grace period as a signing offer from my card, which is another tactic you can use to play the credit card companies: get a new card with 0% for the first year, use it to pay your other credit card balances, and even though you are carrying the same balance, you’re now carrying it on a 0% card, therefore you avoid paying the card companies a dime and still enjoy the freedom plastic provides. If you are not a complete retard, instead of letting the card companies play you, you can turn around and play them and the best part is that they still make money, so everyone is happy.

Thanks to my transient lifestyle, Credit Card companies have a hard time tracking me down. Hell, the pizza guy has a hard time tracking me down since my address is actually on a street that doesn’t exist. I have had three different cell phone numbers and about nine different addresses since they last found me. I work for cash now and the IRS is lucky I fear them so much or they wouldn’t be seeing a dime either.

So the only thing that motivates you to pay anyone anything is fear? Does anyone else detect the abject lack of personal responsibility exhibited by this douche bag? You are running away from your responsibility like a little kid hiding in your tree house so your mommy can’t tell you to do your weekend chores. And you call yourself a man?  Not only that, but is living like a hobo really worth whatever short term gains you picked up in college while you were busy living the high life?

Occasionally they call my mom and ask her if it bothers her that I am not making good on my obligations. And she basically tells them they are morons for giving credit to an 18-year-old and deserve what they get. And she is right.

Translation: my mother is the root of my problems. Having no personal responsibility herself, she raised me to treat my own lack of judgment and life failures as someone else’s fault and attempts to justify my completely irresponsible behavior by blaming and accusing other people, such as the credit card companies that I owe lots of money. When the credit card companies attempt to call my mother out on her failure as a mother resulting in raising a derelict debt-evading thief, she tries to turn it around on them and tell them they are stupid for loaning money to a legal adult who legally signed legal documents promising to pay them back for the money they lent him in good faith plus their interest fees, and they deserve to lose money thus raising costs for the millions of other responsible credit users who form the foundation of the most prosperous economy on the planet earth.

Yeah, they’re morons all right. They’re morons for failing to anticipate that a college student whom they have never met would turn out to be a scumbag like you who would graduate from college and spend the next 7 years of his life working cash jobs, spending all the money he earns on himself instead of repaying his debt, and changing phone numbers and addresses so they won’t physically be able to send him threatening letters demanding that he makes good on his legal and moral obligations to pay at least the balance. Even if he has some religious objection to “big business” and the profits these companies have every right to seek, he can’t use that argument to ignore the fact that he spent their money and should be paying them at least their balance instead of flat out robbing them.

I have ZERO guilt taking money form Credit Card companies. They are loan sharks in suits and use every predatory practice on Earth to milk money from people who can’t afford it.

Boy, it must be amazing to be able to say something like that, convince yourself that it’s true, and be able to sleep at night.  You know who else was really good at that?  The nazis.

No one forced you to obtain and use a credit card to buy things that you knew you didn’t have the income to pay back when the monthly bill came around. You have ZERO guilt because you refuse to admit that the predicament you are in is 100% your fault. You call them loan sharks in suits, but the truth of the matter is that you are at worst a thief and at best guilty of fraud. You bought shit and now refuse to pay back at least your balance and yet you go through the day with zero guilt about it which also makes you a bad person.

You know what you sound exactly like? Those morbidly obese fatties who whine about how America is full of tempting unhealthy diets and all the advertisements and the convenience (nay, necessity) of fast foods in American life have made them fat, and they are the victims. They feel no guilt whatsoever about being fat because it’s everyone else’s fault but theirs. Someone used predatory tactics to make them want to buy and eat unhealthy food in excess.

They lobby congress to allow them to go after people in bankruptcy, charge exorbitant interest rates and switch billing cycles to three weeks instead of four so they can compound their 21.9% APR more often. And you have to make a minimum payment 5 more times every year. These are people who deserve to get stiffed ,and I suggest all American’s do the same.

There is nothing illegal or wrong about “going after people in bankruptcy.”  The very notion of bankruptcy is that when you come out of it, your “slate” is clean (i.e., your debt is absolved, and they can once again begin to build credit).   This very notion is bullshit in my opinion, but that just goes to show how forgiving the American legal system can be of stupid shits like White Dade who wrack up credit card debt they can’t afford.  Bankruptcy means they don’t have to pay their credit card bills anymore. “Going after people in bankruptcy” makes it sound like these companies are holding a gun to their heads forcing them to get cards and then forcing them to go to the mall and buy name brand clothes. The truth of the matter is that credit card companies don’t “go after” people in bankruptcy any more than they go after you or me. Well, probably not you since you don’t have an address where other companies who you haven’t built up thousands of dollars of debt with already could send you their offers. I get at least a dozen a month. “Going after” really means “not refusing” people in bankruptcy. In other words, you expect credit card companies to baby people who have completely failed at adulthood and protect them from their own inability to control their spending. Again, this reeks of White Dade’s total lack of personal responsibility.

Credit card companies love people who have just filed bankruptcy because it means they can’t file it again. I mentioned before that people who file for bankruptcy become absolved of their debt. That means they magically don’t owe anyone money anymore; you know who pays back the debtors instead of the person filing? No one. They are forced to eat that loss. The next time you grumble at a credit card company charging you 20% interest, remember that they could stay just as profitable and charge you 10% interest if it weren’t for the thousands of irresponsible assholes like White Dade who don’t pay their bills and file bankruptcy. If a post-bankrupt person gets a credit card, they will pay that debt even if it means their wages will be garnished. If they don’t make enough money to pay back their debtors even with garnished wages, they go to jail. Since most people will only fuck their debtors when it carries absolutely no immediate negative consequences, people who are facing jail time for White Dade’s lLaissez-faire attitude to the money he owes and the people he owes them to are far less likely to live as a fugitive working a shitty cash job like bartending knowing that all it takes is one surfacing for air into the realm of legal society for the police to find out where they’re hiding like the rats they are and haul them off to federal pound-me-in-the-ass prison.

With the exception of perhaps buying a home sometime after I’m 35 or a new car, I do not plan on borrowing money from anyone I do not know personally again. It is a sham and I suggest everyone adopt my approach and just tell B of A to fuck off when they call you asking why you haven’t paid. Until they lobby congress enough to legalize corporate Goon Squads to come to your house (which is not out of the question given the outrageous shit they’ve already gotten) there is no reason to fear these people.

As a close friend of White Dade’s, seeing his attitude toward paying back his credit card companies, I would be first on the list to loan him money.  As a law-abiding responisble citizen, I wouldn’t suggest telling Bank of America to fuck off unless you want to find yourself in White Dade’s position, which is essentially that he is unable to acquire any loans legally and probably will be for a very long time. One day, probably when he’s 65 and eating cat food because one year of living the high life in college and then 7 subsequent years of abject immaturity with regards to his financial obligations put him so far behind the curve when it comes to financial planning that he is poor in his retirement while all of his more responsible friends who paid their dues, socked equity away into homes at early ages, and opened up reitrement accounts with their non-cash, corporate jobs are taking Alaskan cruises and relaxing on golf courses, he’ll realize the errors in his ways. Then again, probably not.

In case you weren’t aware, there is a strong reason to fear these people, especially when you post blog entries like this one in which you are essentially admitting that you not only have no intention of ever paying these people back, but that you are using subversive life maneuvers such as changing addresses and phone numbers to evade collection agencies. This, dear White Dade, constitutes something called fraud which is illegal in the United States. It’s one thing to live under the radar and rob credit card companies. It’s another thing to admit it on the internet, on a public medium seen by thousands. Although you haven’t named your credit card company, I’d be willing to bet it’s Bank of America. Better hope they don’t read whitedade.com.

When they call your house just do what I do: Tell them they are idiots if they ever think they are getting paid and say you will report them for harassment if they ever call you again. It miraculously stops until your debt is sold to another collection agency and you repeat the process. The debt retires eventually and you are in the clear. Just don’t get any more cards and you can spend all that money you would have given to the Credit Card companies on stuff you’d probably have to charge anyway, and the vicious cycle of debt sis over with the fat cats left holding the bag.

Oooh, you’ll report them for harrasment? This guy seriously lives in some kind of fantasy world. I won’t say anything more about that quote because it speaks for itself.

And if any of you creditors have googled my name and found this blog through the Website I write for, I got a little message for you:

GOOD LUCK MOTEHRFUCKERS! EAT A 24.9% APR DICK AND I’LL SEE YOU IN HELL!!!!!!!!

Two words for ya, White Dade: grow up. I hope his creditors do google his name, find his blog, and have him indicted on fraud.

In summary: the lack of personal responsiblity demonstrated by this so-called adult is astonishing. I can guarantee with 100% certainty that this late-20′s or early-30′s adolescent boy self-identifies as a liberal and if he weren’t evading his responsibilities towards his debtors he’d be registered to vote as a Democrat. This is exactly the kind of bullshit attitude that only a liberal could have. And although I can’t say for sure, I bet this guy was raised without a father. A man would have taught him how to act like a man.

Wench: Oh, Mr. Udall, how do you write women so well?
Udall:: Simple. I think of a man, and I take away common sense and accountability.

Dogs are the worst

I hate my dog. Seriously, I hate my dog.

The first hate began shortly after she began destroying the apartment I now have to pay to fix with my deposit. She is also excessively needy.

I was able to dump her on my parents for a few months when I was in China and when my neighbor started bitching that he could hear the dog and my landlord subsequently threatened to evict me despite the fact that I have seen more than one late payment notice on that guy’s door and I am willing to bet his housing is subsidized, because by the look of him, he can’t afford the apartment complex I live in which is priced above its worth specifically to keep New Orleans refugees out.

But now I have her back in a house which some bank paid $280,000 for on my behalf. So far she hasn’t irreversibly damaged the premises but last night she threw up on the wall and the trim which I now have to clean up, and by the time I get home the whole room is going to smell bad and the puke will be cold, which will make it harder to clean up and more tactilely egregious.

From the moment I get home until the moment I bribe her with small cocktail weenie shaped treats into the guest room which is rapidly beginning to look, smell, and feel like a kennel, she won’t leave me alone. She can’t walk very comfortably on the laminate floors and she slips and falls all over the place. This wouldn’t be bad because it is extremely humorous watching her fall on her ass attempting simple maneuvers such as going up and down the stairs, except that it makes a racket. Plus, my chair (which is on wheels) glides effortlessly along the floor as it is; I don’t need a 60 pound nagger depositing her loathesome carcass right next to it, which of course nudges the chair across the floor just slightly enough to piss me off and make me kick her.

So, I kick her in the face a lot. I try only to interact with her when the whim suits me, and that’s usually when my hands are wet and a towel is far away or my feet are cold.

Unfortunately, she is a vindictive little whore. When I poignantly demoted her from Alpha Female to official bitch status by throwing her forcibly off a couch she once called her own because her presence was interfering with the gaming of my (soon-to-be) girlfriend, she got even with me by taking about two steps away from the couch, looking right at me, and peeing on the carpet. Right in front of my date.

I am worried that while I am making strides in undoing the abject spoilage inflicted upon her by my parents by completely ignoring her, she is busy calculating her revenge. I have put her in an empty room on the second floor, and the only thing she can eat there is (lead painted) trim. If she eats any of it, and god forbid the window sill (which she both has a habit of doing and is a monumental effort to replace), I will be posting a new blog entry featuring a photo of a hog-tied black labrador retriever prone on the train tracks with an oncoming 18 car diesel in the distance.

So although I am a firm believer in the idea that this dog, for whom I paid large wheelbarrows full more than she is worth, and whom I begrudgingly house and feed, exists solely for my entertainment, I am having a hard time expressing this to my dog in terms she can understand that doesn’t invovle my fist in her face. The key to owning a pet, especially a high maintenence dog who specializes in eliciting feelings of pity with giant pathetic brown eyes and a toy in her mouth, is to remember that you, the pet owner, have a legal right to terminate her existence at any minute. I could shoot her in the head with my gun (which I don’t yet own, but which Nixie is inching closer into a strongbox in my closet with her nonstop transgressive behavior) and no court could convinct me of anything other than discharging a fire arm within close proximity to a residence.

Don’t ever own a dog.

Train wreck

I can’t help myself: Taurus555 is a train wreck.

If there were a step by step guide for writing online profiles guaranteed to keep the girls away, following it would inevitably lead to this. Let’s dissect this disaster piece by piece.

First, the headline: “Looking for a kind, loving woman”. Of course, as opposed to “looking for a cold-hearted, maniacal bitch.” Are you looking for a life partner or your mother? Kind? Loving? He would have been better off saying something like, “looking for a creative woman with low standards.” Creative, to counterbalance this boy’s obvious creative black hole, and low standards to put up with such a subpar opening statement.

Next, his basic stats: what could possibly go wrong here? Sure, he shocked us all with his sign and his height is a disappointing 5’7″, but he managed to start his descent into the festering pit of awful when he decided to lie about his body type and say “average.” You’re not average, you’re fat; we can see it in your face and your carefully disguised double chin. Here’s a tip for the ladies: all fat men say they’re average; here’s proof.

Under his profession, he lists “database administrator”, in other words, the least common denominator of the IT industry. Since most girls don’t know anything about IT or engineering, this might actually cream up some of the status driven whores. Well, let me refrain: this might actually cream up some of the blind status driven whores, because if they’ve gotten this far, they’ve already gotten past his picture.

This boy should not smile, for the simple fact that he looks frightening and disturbingly like a pedophile. Aside from that fact, he needs to do a better job with his hair and his photoshop skills. Crop out that carpetted pillar near your desk (which looks like it’s in the basement). Can you not be trusted near wooden pillars?

Here’s where a mediocre profile goes from attracting only fat girls to attracting only zero girls. In fact, what he says in his “About Me” section would keep even barn-yard animals away. Let’s read on.

Where to begin? My physical appearance should be apparent from my picture, but if you want to know my height, it’s 5’7. Yup, I ain’t the tallest bloke around, but I got a big mouth to make up for it. I say what’s on my mind, and damned proud of it.

Everything about this opening paragraph is wrong. Firstly, don’t say something stupid like “where to begin?” Thinking out loud is acceptable in an extremely limited number of scenarios, for example, when your boss is leaning over your shoulder asking you whether you finished that report for him like he asked, or when a girlfriend asks you if you would ever consider marrying her. Thinking out loud is a way to buy you a few seconds of time in which you can generate the correct bullshit response to avoid getting fired and/or having to put up with two hours of crying instead of two hours of sex. To actually go through the effort of thinking out loud on the internet means you lack a basic social understanding of where and when saying something stupid like, “hmm, where to begin?” is appropriate.

Next, he makes up for wasting some of our time by wasting more of it, by stating the obvious. This profile could be improved 100% simply by trashing the first two lines, because we already know you’re a disappointing 5’7″ because it’s listed half a screen up. Stupid.

I am not a big fan of trying to write as though you are speaking with an accent; I find it kitch and a pretty lame attempt at humor. However, if you aren’t instantly turned off by his use of the word “bloke,” you will be when he “damn proud[ly]” declares that he says what’s on his mind with his “big mouth.” Someone really should have taken this kid aside and explained to him how the world works because unfortunately he just doesn’t get it.

You know who says what’s on their minds? Children. Little kids. Saying what is on your mind is inappropriate just about 99% of the time. Here’s a simple example: hot girl approaches you in office with new hair cut. You think: “nice tits” You say: “nice hair cut.” Why? Because if you said “nice tits” you’d be cleaning your shit out of your desk and explaining to your landlord why your rent isn’t on time this month. This very basic example extends to every second of every minute of every hour of civilized life. If we all said what was on our minds, we would have gone extinct as a culture and probably a species altogether, to be replaced by something like a chimpanzee which is smarter than Taurus555 but can’t talk.

As we grow into adults we learn how to communicate at a higher level. We communicate with diplomacy, tact, and finesse. This doesn’t apply only to our interactions in the office, but also in our love and family lives. If your girlfriend is wearing pants that make her ass look fat, let her figure that out by herself; you lie to her and tell her she looks good anyway.

If you are proud of the fact that “you say what’s on your mind” it means two things. The first is that you clearly have a lot of growing up to do and are therefore deserve the title ‘boy’ rather than ‘man’, but also that you are probably a very unappealing partner because you make an ass out of yourself every single day and probably don’t realize it. Also, you probably aren’t ready to offer the kind of emotional partnership that women desire, because you say hurtful things because “they’re on your mind.”

Of course, to Taurus555, he probably is proud of the fact that he thinks this makes him honest. What he needs to understand is that the bullshit we’re fed when we are kids about how a lie is “anything that isn’t true” is, itself, a lie, and in an ironic way, it’s the kind of lie that when you are an adult you understand is an important lie to tell, because even though it isn’t true, it is helpful for children to believe it because they are incapable of discerning what lies are the kind that are against the law and what kind of lies keep business relationships and romantic relaionships going across the globe. Telling a girl she looks fat in her pants, even when she does, is not being honest, it’s being an asshole. Am I right?

I’ve never had sex, but would like to. There’s only so much you can do by yourself. I was a virgin by choice, now I am one by circumstance.

Wow. Just plain wow. Talk about striking out before you even get up to the plate. Why in the world would you say this shit? Firstly, a 23 year-old virgin falls into one of three distinct classes of people, two if they’re female and one if they’re male. For the females, one possible class is that she’s chaste and saving it for marriage. Most girls who fit into that category fit there because in their home country they’d be stoned to death if they weren’t. It’s the 2000′s — sorry, but that excuse just doesn’t fly anymore. Even devout Catholic girls are whores these days, because the social climate is that if you aren’t fucking then you aren’t dateable. Deny that all you want; you can learn the hard way. The other possible class for girls is that they are so hideously ugly (and this usually means fat) that they couldn’t find any man to sleep with them. Gross!

As far as a 23 year-old male virgin: you’re a failure. That’s what you’re saying: I’m a failure. There’s no other way around it. Being a virgin “by choice” just means that’s what you told yourself when you sat alone every Saturday night for the last 23 years to give yourself some excuse not to hang yourself in your garage. Falling back on the excuse that your religion demands it makes it easier for you to tell yourself that lie.

“There’s only so much you can do by yourself [but I've done it all]“. Gross!

“I was a virgin by choice, but now I am one by circumstance.” Yeah, that circumstance is that no woman is willing to sleep with you. Seriously, do you hear yourself speaking? What do you think a woman who reads that is going to think? “Oh, well, I guess no other woman would sleep with him. Maybe I should!” Haven’t you ever been at a social gathering where… okay, scratch that, haven’t you ever been at a restaurant with your parents and watched a group of women go to the bathroom in herds? Women are herd animals. They don’t boldly go where no woman has gone before, especially if that “where” is down on you.

Video games are my primary, and really, my only vice. Being good at them is not mandatory, but it certainly helps. I drink occasionally, but stick to wine and liqour because beer makes me sick. I enjoy a whiskey sour, stereotypical though it may be.

You’re a boy and you work in the IT industry, and you’re a virgin which means you don’t get out much; of course you play video games. Here we go again with stating the obvious. Guess what? Video games are not sexy, and I sure as hell hope that being good at them is not mandatory because what women are? Girls generally have better things to do than play video games because even the ugly ones can date black men. What really gets me is how he finishes it off, here: “but it certainly helps.” Beggars can’t be choosers, pal.

Not only that, but if his only vice is video games, you’re going to be in for a wild ride with this guy. I’m sure he’ll take you to exciting places such as Hyrule and Azeroth. Here’s a tip: most girls would prefer a weekend in Vegas.

I’m going to translate the remainder of this paragraph: “I drink occasionally, but stick to girl drinks like wine and Cosmopolitans because beer makes me sick. I am unoriginal and afraid to try new things, so I saw one of my friends order a whiskey sour once and claim I like those because I have very little exposure to any other kind of alcohol, such as the creative impromptu punches served at the parties I was never invited to during college.”

Here’s where the profile really takes a nose dive:

I sit around a lot, so all of you outdoorsy types are welcome to come into my life and change that. “A man that wants to be changed?” you say, I say “Yes, I need more exercise, don’t let my pudgy physique fool you” I am not “hot” though I’ve been described as “cute”. I haven’t made an earnest effort to lose weight, but plan to do so soon. Probably after the holidays; no sense in trying to fight THAT much temptation.

Good god. I didn’t think anyone could be this completey, patently inept. “I sit around a lot”? Jesus Christ. Do you really think women are attracted to couch potatoes? Oh, but that’s okay, because you’d be more than happy to let a woman who isn’t a lazy fat ass “come into your life” and force you, probably against your will, to do physical activity which your years of physical inactivity have left you pretty much incapable of performing for more than 20 seconds at a time. The fact that you don’t exercise regularly or, you know, go “outside” probably means that you don’t enjoy doing it. Most girls are not physical trainers and they certainly don’t want to hear you bitch about being tired and fight them when they ask you to do something as simple as go for a bike ride. Girls who are into that shit are into guys who are into that shit and guys who are into that shit don’t write stuff like “I sit around a lot” or admit to being fat.

No girl wants to come into your life and change you, and they certainly don’t want to be “fooled by your pudgy physique.” For the record, “pudgy” describes a Poodle that’s had a few too many Kibbles and Bits. Pudgy is not a male adjective, it makes you sound like a pussy. A fat pussy.

For the record, any time a male says, “I’m not hot, but I’ve been described as cute”, he means his mother tells him he’s good looking. He also means that he is singularly unattractive.

Most importantly, though, it means that in his own mind, he’s not hot, he’s cute. And actually, most men who say that don’t actually think they’re cute. They know they’re ugly bastards, but they also know that “ugly” sounds bad on online profiles so they write this bullshit instead in hopes that what they’ve heard about women being willing to overlook male ugliness is true. And it’s only true if you’re rich, and no 23 year-old DBA is rich. This means that his own self image is flawed. If he actually does manage to date a woman, he will probably be so surprised and grateful that he will always act like a pussy around her because he will constantly wonder how he was able to ever date a female who is also human. Any man who says shit like this in his profile is guaranteed to be a beta male. Ladies, stay away.

Just when you think it can’t get worse it does; “I haven’t made an earnest effort to lose weight, but I plan to do so soon.” What a total load of shit. If you haven’t made an effort so far and are fat today, you aren’t going to make an effort not to be after the holidays or ever. Fat people are fat for a reason; take it from me. I’ve been overweight by about 20 pounds my entire adult life (except for college when I spent a lot of time at the gym), and I will never lose that weight becuase I have no earnest desire to. The difference is that I don’t make stupid claims like I plan to. The problem with people like this is that in their minds they justify their fatness by honestly believing that at some point in the future they will lose weight. They imagine that they are not fat because they won’t be fat; but in the back of their minds they know they won’t bust ass at the gym because they don’t want to, but they ignore that truth because it detracts from their ability to justify their own failure. The expression “one bird in the hand is worth two in the bush” would probably fall on deaf ears.

And lastly, as if there could be some redeeming value to this sentence, he uses a semicolon to cap off a sentence fragment (i.e., misusing it) and finishing it with another: “no sense in trying to fight THAT much temptation.” He can’t keep his fat fingers out of the cookie jar over Christmas. His overbearing mother stuffs food down his throat. And ladies, remember, if he can’t withstand a temptation as basic as not eating Christmas ham to excess in December, there’s a good chance that if you aren’t the only human being willing to sleep with him, he’ll screw the only other human being willing to sleep with him, because after all, “no sense in trying to fight THAT much temptation.” Lack of willpower is not an attractive trait in a human being period, let alone a romantic long term partner. Life is full of temptations. It mostly comes in the form of other pussy which leads to divorces.

I liked to write, though I haven’t done so in a while. I haven’t read a lot (recently), but will gladly talk books with you without hesitation. I am not a perfect gentleman, but I am an imperfect gentleman. I won’t get everything right, and god knows I make mistakes, but I do my best.

What drek. This is the 2000′s. Even if he liked to write it’s evident by the total ineptitude with which he put together this profile (and his demonstrated inability to use the semicolon properly) that he was awful at it and therefore, it’s not worth mentioning. He hasn’t read a lot recently because drinking boxed wine and playing video games is more fun, but he’ll still talk books with you without hesitation becuase he lacks a personality and is desperately hoping that you’ll carry the conversation. Also, he’s a beta male pussy and will pretty much let you drive the date because nobody ever reminded him that like all things, as a man it is his job to take control. Don’t put the woman in the driver’s seat. You’re on top; establish that from day one. Even if they are bitchy feminists on the outside, their emotional, instinctual desire for a man who solves all their problems, takes control in a crisis, and smacks them on their ass and pulls their hair while ruffing them up in the sack is in control of them, just the same as in the women who admit it. Talk books if and only if YOU want to talk books. However, make sure if you are talking books (at your discretion), you give her plenty of air time and you pay attention. There’s a difference, subtle as it is, to being an overbearing asshole and being a man.

While Nicholas Cage is busy being his pussy beta male self in The Rock, Sean Connery gives it to him straight.

Cage: I’ll do my best!
Connery:Your best? Losers always whine about their best. Winners go home and fuck the prom queen!

Never, ever, admit to being imperfect. You’re trying to sell yourself. Focus on what’s going right for you, what makes you better than the other 3 billion men out there. Don’t focus on your flaws. Don’t even admit that you have them. When was the last time your car salesmen spent an hour telling you what’s wrong with their cars? When was the last time you bought a car from the guy who did that?

I love to be loved and enjoy a good snuggle. I really like making out, and since I’ve never had sex, there’s no pressure to take it that far…but I’m always open to it

This pretty much defines the beta male. I’d bet he’d be comfortable in a relationship where she never got you off, but he ate her out every time. I can’t believe I’m hearing this from a guy who supposedly has testicles. We, as men, have a responsibility to fight back against indoctrinating bullshit like Cosmopolitan magazine and Sex and the City, and here’s some douche bag sitting here towing the line. We don’t like to cuddle, we like to throw her on her back and put it inside her. And we can do that because we’re bigger and stronger. Sex is over when we say it is. Snuggling is a reward a man gives the girl for putting out and surviving a relentless pounding by his massive schlong. It’s not something he desires. Find your balls.

As the last paragraph should tell you, I’m a little bit of a pervert. I hope that’s what you like because that’s a part of me that’s hard to tone down.

Here’s a newsflash for you kid, “being “always open to it ” does not make you even remotely a pervert. If you had said something like, “I’m open to trying my massive collection of butt plugs on you and piercing your nipples with used hypodermic needles immediately after shitting on your chest” you might qualify as being a pervert. Admitting that you want to fuck is not perverted, but the fact that you use the word pervert means you’re insecure with your own sexuality and are ashamed of it. This means you will always act like a pussy in the bedroom. And again, using a word with a negative connotation on it like that turns something relatively benign (albeit out of place and stupid) into another character flaw. If you had used the word “frisky” instead, you’re just politely saying you’re horny and want to fuck. If you were an adult you’d be able to understand the difference between “frisky” and “perverted.”

And also, no man should ever have to tone down his sexuality unless he’s a rapist or a pedophile. On second thought…

Aside from all that, I’m a sensitive, empathetic person. I cry at funerals and most sappy movies. I’m not your stereotypical male, and am certainly no player. I’m too honest for my own good, which may be to your benefit, because, as I say, I speak my mind.

Here we go again. Crying at funerals is okay if it’s your immediate family, but first of all, you shouldn’t even want to be watching sappy movies let alone crying over them. Here we are back to the beta male bullshit. He’s been conditioned to think that women want sensitive men. THEY DON’T. They want men to behave like men and crying at movies is not manly. When he says that he’s “not your stereotypical male”, he’s completely wrong. He is exactly a stereotypical male; he’s trying to be the stereotypical male that he thinks women are attracted to. He doesn’t have the physique or the self confidence to be an attractive version of the stereotypical male he’s describing when he uses the word stereotypical which is the kind Maddox describes, so he falls back on the white washed “sensitive” beta male that women have been equally brainwashed into thinking they want. Most girls who have ever dated a guy like he’s trying to be cheated on him and then broke up with him to go out with the other kind, because they come to the conclusion that all women eventaully reach: they already have a pussy, they don’t need another one.

He’s certainly no player because he’s a fat couch potato beta male virgin. He’s too honest for his own good means he keeps saying stupid shit like, “yes, that particular makeup color does make you look ugly” and then the girls don’t call back.

The only last bit I have to add here is that if I message you first, I’d appreciate it if you message me back, even if it’s a rejection. The only thing worse than being rejected is being ignored entirely.

Everything about this profile is asking to be ignored. “The only thing worse than being rejected is being ignored entirely”, but the only thing worse than being ignored entirely is waking up every morning and still being you.

Lastly, this epic tragedy of an online profile closes with his idea of an extremely romantic and edgy first date:

All I really want is to meet a girl at the dutch market on a saturday for lunch. Get my usual — Lg. roast beef sub & 3 wedges & a dollar store soda — and then walk down wisteria and the lake, having a wonderful conversation all the while.

So basically, he wants to take you out to a place he goes often enough to have a usual. He of course does not fail to mention that it is, of course, a large roast beef sub. And the dollar store, because he wouldn’t want to spend too much of his hard earned DBA wages on you. Did I mention this is at the dutch market? Nothing screams sexy and romantic like an Amish farmer’s market. Maybe you can pet the pig before they roast it and even feed some chickens! You can enjoy wonderful conversations all the while, though.

He didn’t mention that he also wants to have dirty perverted monkey sex with you, since he’s “always open to it “

God damn. Taurus555, you are a train wreck.