…and in a somewhat-related note to the above post:
I drive many women of my acquaintance insane with rage when I tell them that men look for only three things in a woman: Sex, Sandwiches and Silence. (Don’t chide me: enraging women is my sacred mission.)
But courtesy of Insty comes this stunning revelation from a woman who has achieved that most elusive of female goals: finding and keeping a decent man. And it’s so simple:
Food, clean clothes, tidy room, sex and a shoulder to lean on. Yep, it’s really that simple.
There’s a lot more detail, of course, but her plan is brilliant. Needless to say, the feministicals are going to go batshit crazy about JudgyBitch’s advice. I don’t care. Because it’s true, and moreover, I bet her guy does just as much to look after her (“LOTS!”). This, however, is the clincher for me:
But we’re not talking about quid pro quo here. If your first instinct was to set up a mental balance sheet and make sure all of YOUR thoughtful actions are being returned in EXACT PROPORTION to your outlay, you might as well give up now. You don’t know shit about men, or relationships of any kind.
Exactly. Give this lady a 50th wedding anniversary. I hope she gets it. (And a quick note to Mr. JudgyBitch: fuck this one up, and you deserve daily ball-kickings for the rest of your life.)
I am SO glad I am outside the mating game, or rather, the mating nightmare:
The mate landscape is now so bad for American beta males that they’re wifing up late 30s Wall victims and aged feminist careercunts for one or two, max, years of tolerable sexual relief with a rapidly depreciating ASSet who will get her one kid with him after wasting her prime bangability on the cad carousel quaffing birth control pills like vitamins, and who will unceremoniously divorce rape him after the beta dupe has pitched in to help raise the little snotbag during the most inglorious, dull, and thankless years of its life between birth and toddlerhood.
No joys of fatherhood for you!
Only everlasting financial servitude and psychological destruction.
A sex market that rewards this sort of dynamic is irretrievably broken. We are spitting in the face of millennia of sex polarity, denying the God of Biomechanics his tribute. Instead of passionate love marriages with young women notarized by multiple children, we have socially expedient striver marriages in which haggard careerist shrews on perpetual headache mode diddle the bean to Fifty Shades of Gay and suck dry the resources and emotional commitment of beat-up fap-weary sex-starved limp beta noodleboys before chucking them to win cashmoneyshekels right at the moment fatherhood presumably gets interesting for the damned fools.
I love the way this man writes, but I’m ineffably depressed about his subject matter. Unfortunately, what he’s saying cannot be gainsaid, and therein lies the pity of it.
Okay, remember how some study or other said that 21 orgasms a month lowers prostate cancer rates? Surprise, surprise, nobody knows the truth:
According to a 2016 study in European Eurology, men who ejaculate more frequently are less likely to develop prostate cancer, compared to those who ejaculate less often.
The research from 2016 was a follow-up to a 2004 study, which came to a similar conclusion. Both studies found that the risk of prostate cancer may be reduced for men who ejaculate 21 times or more per month. This was compared with men who only ejaculated 4-7 times a month.
Other studies uncovered some conflicting evidence. Researchers disagree whether ejaculating more often makes men of all ages less likely to get prostate cancer.
A 2008 study found that frequent masturbation was only linked with a decreased risk of prostate cancer in men over 50. Researchers in this study found that men in their 20s and 30s who ejaculated more often were actually at an increased risk of prostate cancer.
In contrast, a 2003 study from Australia found that men who frequently ejaculated as young men had a reduced rate of prostate cancer.
In other words, nobody knows what the fuck [sic] is going on. So in the absence of any other alternatives:
Of course, if you can have 21 orgasms per month with a woman, then by all means go ahead, you lucky dog. Me, I’m going with the 2008 study because it gives me an excuse, so to speak.
And now, if you’ll excuse me…
According to the New York Post (always a bastion of careful reasoning and journalistic moderation):
Hackers could program sex robots to kill
In other words, it could be almost as dangerous as having sex with a couple of my ex-girlfriends. A couple of points need to be made at this juncture:
- For some men, this could be a turn-on rather than a cautionary tale
- Note the proliferation of “could”, “might”, “may” and all the other weasel words in this article — in other words, it’s total crap
- No doubt the “hackers” who actually perpetrate this wickedness will be Russians, Ukranians, Central Europeans as opposed to, oh I don’t know, retarded British hackers
- I would imagine that for owners of said stuff, privacy would be paramount. So anyone who hooks his sex toy up [sic] to the “Internet of things” deserves everything he gets.
For the record, I don’t believe a single word of this bullshit. It’s probably a story dreamed up by militant feminists or (more likely) RealDoll‘s competitors.
Come on, Cherry 2000…
So this Paris-based fitness blogger (no, I don’t know what that is either) decided to give us two views of herself — as men might see her and as she does. Here’s the object in question:
Here’s what I see: a reasonably-pretty woman, decent boobage (the bra doesn’t help), with the bandy legs and slightly large nose of the typical Parisienne. In a stone-cold sober state, I’d rank her somewhat above average: about a 7, maybe a 7.5 if she cleans up nicely. If she has a sexy walk or carries herself with confidence, she’s a definite 8, and I’d wager that most men would happily ask her out on a date.
Here, however, is the comparison she draws:
Good grief. This just goes to prove that there’s no fiercer critic of a woman’s body than the owner thereof.
Suddenly, she’s a lot less attractive. Ladies, take note: self-hatred is not sexy.
And if Miss Aubery is just doing this to attract attention to herself — what’s known today, cruelly, as “attention-whoring” — to build up her self-esteem, then that’s even less attractive.
It seems like most Americans are fairly conservative in their attitudes towards sex, at least, according to this survey (found here).
As Longtime Readers know, I tend to look at most surveys with a jaundiced eye, and towards sexual surveys with even more cynicism, because a.) people who are prepared to answer surveys about sex don’t mind talking about it and are therefore more likely to be sexually liberal (as opposed to the many who think that some stranger asking about their sex lives requires showing them the door, with a shotgun as a persuader); and b.) because people lie like Democrats about their sex lives anyway.
All that said, this was a fairly large sample (which can eliminate much of the nonsense above) and I was somewhat gratified to see little nuggets such as the percentage of people who had sex parties / group sex (less than 10% — although I should point out that in a nation of about two hundred million adults, that’s still nearly twenty million swingers, most of whom, I suspect, are of the coastal habitat).
I liked the fact that among Americans, our sex lives involve innocent things like wearing sexy lingerie (75% of women) and lifetime masturbation and “ordinary” sex rated at 80%. (I suspect that if we took out the sexually-indifferent, e.g. married Jewish women, feministicals and several ex-wives of my acquaintance, the latter percentage would probably be a lot higher. [humorous stereotype alert])
I’m not going to go into more detail, because this is a family website* and you can read the salacious details for yourselves. Instead, let’s just look at something related to the topic, i.e. Claudia Cardinale:
*I’m kidding. Maybe the Corleone Family.