Friday, March 21, 2014

Blogs are dead, AKA: Getting laid constantly, AKA: The power of the written word, AKA Feminism.

This blog is like hip hop- it's gone through so many changes over the years, and is largely irrelevant to continuing life on Earth. But it has had its moments...

It's no secret that words turn a lot of women on. Despite the proliferation of 'text-style', if you can assemble a sentence, and use words like "despite" and "proliferation", quite a lot of girls will sit up and pay attention.

I've had girls creep on my posts for days, weeks, months, and even years; before eventually revealing themselves in comments or emails, or even finding me on Instagram. And sometimes they proposition me.

Isn't that the craziest thing ever?

Without even knowing what I look like (I look amazing), they seek me out and offer up their internal genitalia for my carnal consideration. Sometimes we meet, we fuck, we move on. I'll get a message, and they say one of two things:

Option 1. I've been reading you for (insert time period here), I agree with/am challenged by/am repulsed by/can't get enough of your thoughts and would love to spend time with (read: look at you while you answer questions and then jump on) the person that wrote them in real life. (Social media link attached.)

Option 2. Naked selfie attached to a phone number and that's it.

And all because of a few words or thoughts that they found appealing...

It's crazy how many girls who absolutely disagree with some of my thoughts written in here are compelled to fuck me. That's one aspect of psychology I just can not get my head around. Like, how does "He is so wrong!" turn into "So I'm going to fuck him!"?

I think it's important to embrace your sexuality, because it's a part of you. If you encounter someone you find sexually electric, and the chemistry is there, there's nothing in the world to stop you from sleeping with them (unless you're in a committed relationship of course).

But I think the whole concept of PUA's or (pick-up artists) to be unbearably sleazy/creepy/douchey.

The idea that you can boil down female behaviour into a set of stereotypes to exploit for sexual conquest ignores just how nuanced and individual female psychology really is. And it is all about psychology. If you can keep someone guessing by 'running game' on them, increase their suggestability, or convince them to lose inhibition when it wasn't their idea, you're simply being a predator.

It really is that simple.

Now I understand the patriarchy. I understand why some men feel the need to dominate women. I don't subscribe, but I see what they're saying.

They're saying "Women have vaginas. We want vaginas. Women know this. So they make it as unnecessarily difficult and complex for us to get vaginas as they can." So the patriarchy seeks to silence, marginalize, and dominate women. Crazy right?

Especially when you consider that, outside of religion and other artificial constructs (that also silence, marginalize, and dominate women); women love sex just as much as men do, for one simple and mind-numbingly obvious reason-

We are all human beings... Gender is irrelevant.

And the reality is, there are a lot of women out there who have vaginas and in no way have any interest in keeping them to themselves, but when you lump all women in together,  you miss out.

So. Through the writing of this blog, which is a very gonzo vehicle for self-expression, opinion, and my platform for asking questions, marinating on issues, and sharing stories; occasionally people take notice, and sometimes those people decide for their own reasons that they would like to sexually experience the writer.

I'd think it odd if it wasn't for the fact all you need to do to get a guy interested is generally show them a picture of someone hot and ask "would you go there?", so the idea that a woman can peer inside (the depravity and emptiness) of my mind and decide they find that attractive in contrast isn't that challenging.

I'm reminded of all of this because I met a girl when I was out celebrating my birthday last weekend. I went out alone with no expectations of the night, ended up making a bunch of new friends, and getting hit on by 4 women simultaneously. I'm at an age where, when 3.30 am rolls around, and after 10 J├Ąger shots, I'm in a really good place to go home by myself and just sleep.

I can eat something naughty, climb into my big bed, and best of all not care how I look when I wake up, when I wake up, or anything that relates to other people.

So I watched with a detached kind of interest as these girls tried to outbid each other to get my attention. (Something that ten years ago would never have happened because I'd have been far too interested). If one girl sat next to me with her head on my shoulder, another would sit in my lap and literally block her completely, while the other two danced in front of me. It probably should have felt sexy and empowering, but I actually felt quite sad every time one girl blocked another, because if I was trying to get into someone's pants and I got blocked, I'd feel humiliated.

So I went home alone, and was totally happy to do it. Which is what I've been doing for almost two years now. I have dated a couple of girls along the way, but in this chapter of my life, sex is something I generally can't be bothered with. I'm definitely not interested in chasing after it, learning techniques to entrap it, or to do anything to create space or time for it in my life. Case in point- I'm writing this on Friday night. At home.


But before I went home, I saw a pick up artist at work. I knew he was a pick up artist because he had three guys with him, and he was coaching them right there in the bar. He moved toward a girl seated by herself to drop some game. The other three watched with their mouths open.

I'd like to tell you it was amazing, but it wasn't. I wasn't inspired by his confidence or technique. He was quite a good looking guy, dressed nicely, not too out-there, who could pick up a lot of girls just by existing. He flew by the seat of his pants, and ended up failing. He wasn't chastened by that fact, he returned to his students and said "It's a numbers game."

The girl looked at me as he was walking away, and I rolled my eyes. She came over and said "Fuck you!" with a very interested smile on her face. I explained the eye-rolling was in response to the PUA, not at her, and she asked "Where do you think he went wrong?" Being drunk and not into the idea of explaining my innermost thoughts to a stranger (the irony is delicious), I replied "Read my blog if you want to know my thoughts on things. I'm here to party." She asked how she could find it, and I said "Use colloquial vernacular", which confused her, and I made my exit.

The next night at about 4 am she emailed me an 'Option 2'.

This is knifey, from 'the internet'.