Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Dear "Nice Guy" - Your Mother Hates You
So in conversations with the few single friends I have left, I have discovered that the whole "nice guys finish last" refrain is still carrying weight. It's still the go-to excuse for men who aren't getting what they want. "It's because I'm a nice person. These women are bitches."
No, you "nice guys" are the bitches. True nice guys don't finish last. Bitchmade losers finish last. There is a huge difference. The thing that these so-called nice guys are missing is the fact that you're clowning for women. You're putting on a show based on a giant lie. And do you know who taught you this lie?
Dating Bill of Rights
Dating Bill of Rights
First Amendment: Don’t sleep with me, then don’t speak with
me.
Second Amendment: We are not friends. I already have lots of
friends. In fact, I have good, honest loyal friends. I do not need anymore.
Unless you’re going to be a friend with benefits, I see no benefit to being
your friend. If you want a cuddle buddy, call your gay friends or girlfriends
or manginas who are under your spell.
Third Amendment: If you are racially, culturally or socially
unaware, ignorant or bigoted then I will NEVER introduce you to anybody of
importance in my life.
Fourth Amendment: Communication is a two way street. I
wholly value being a good listener, and expect the same from my partner. I’m
your lover so don’t treat me like I’m your therapist.
Fifth Amendment: One strike and you’re out. Mistakes are
human, fuck-ups are unacceptable.
Sixth Amendment: I value loyalty and authenticity over
wealth, so if you aren’t a woman of fidelity and integrity, I don’t have time
for you.
Seventh Amendment: If you spent your teens and 20s getting
knocked up by losers instead of pursuing a university education and career
goals, then don’t expect me to pick up the tab for your stupidity. I wouldn’t
pay the same price for a flooded house or damaged car, so why would I pay the
same price (my heart) for a used up woman?
Eighth Amendment: If you are a cheater or mistress, then
please believe you’re not girlfriend material. If you’re not girlfriend
material, you’re not even date material. I don’t give my heart to people who
don’t value commitment.
Ninth Amendment: You are an automatic jumpoff if you have a
parole officer, baby daddy or dealer.
Tenth Amendment: I am 33. I know what I want because I’m
experienced enough to know what works and I will not settle for less in a
long-term relationship.
Friday, July 6, 2012
A Disease that Is Killing Our Community
That was four bloody years ago. People have clearly not heeded your warning. Unfortunately, men have forgotten how to be men. This testosterone Alzheimer's has made it difficult to date in the 21st century because it's obviously that which is tender and weak is also what's customary.
You know, I wasn't always a mean, angry little bachelor. In fact, the arc of my life is much like this. I was once an optimistic lad with a positive view of my future. I figured I'd go to college, get a good career, meet a great woman, get married, and bring some mean angry youngins into the world. However, my dating life as an adult reads like a Woody Allen movie that was written on a heroin/vodka bender in Bai Ling's bed. And I blame you.
That's right dammit, I'm an American so you better believe I'm going to point the finger. It's these men who actually engage in bitchass behavior, just bitchassing it up for the rest of us. They present these whiny, accommodation-based Booker T. Washington ankle grabbing images of masculinity, and that has made women feel they can say and do whatever they want and it's our job to just accept it like a bunch of spineless simps.
However, I don't roll like a punk. Sure, I listened to my fair share of songs like this when I was growing up. But by the time I hit a certain age, I realized songs like those were really intended for men whose favorite superhero is this guy. I'm more of a Batman guy myself. He's dark, mysterious, and viciously fights crime in tights with built-in abs.
Anyway, being a black man being a guy with a backbone is duly damning, because if you decide to stand up to women, you immediately become the bad guy. Even if you respectfully ask "could you please not refer to me as __________ because I personally find that term offensive," you get a freedom of speech lecture. So since modern Negroes allow themselves to be disrespected by women, it's clear women expect me to do the same. This makes me look bad and inspires women to ignore my wishes since they're used to self-hating punks who just accept whatever they can get.
So bitchass men find racial disrespect from women acceptable. They must also accept disloyalty and selfishness as well. Chris Rock once said that the key to relationships is for both parties to have the same focus: her. My recent experience dictates that women can also walk out of your life and then decide to walk back in when it's convenient for them. Where I come from, two things are true: snitches get stitches, and traitors get excommunicated. However, women have forgotten the honor code that comes with meeting people. Why? Because it's easier for them to live their lives and their relationships on their terms without considering other peoples' feelings; and bitchass men are so pussywhipped that they allow disloyalty.
Bitchassness has officially had a profound impact on my life, and I say no more. First I have to worry about the fact that we're one election and two Lil' Wayne albums away from being sold back into slavery. Now, I have to worry about my future potential as a family man being threatened by how low the bar has been set by these pseudo men with their open-door spread-asscheeks policy of acceptance. So what now, Diddy? The world needs you more than an election party needs pitchers of Ciroc Obama cocktails.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)


