A respondent to a personal ad I placed many years ago expressed, quite indignantly, that he would not "be part of any competition" when I politely explained, out of sheer boredom, that he would have to actually throw down a little effort by way of convincing me that I should meet him over the 60 other respondents that had replied to the same ad he'd responded to. I didn't ask him to compete but I suppose that is the simplest assessment of the situation, though I'd think if we took a broader view, the fact that I wouldn't meet "just anyone" is actually a positive trait and would be viewed as such by anyone else who is equally discerning about who they spend their time with.
But let's forget to remember that women actually get to choose the man attached to the dick she intends to ride and that a hard-on that's "good enough for anyone" isn't probably going to be enough to convince her. Oh wait, I can't forget that part. And any of you paying attention will guess ahead that I'm naturally going to suggest that the only reasonably sure way to meet the goal of being The Guy Who Gets Fucked In A World Of Men Who Want To Get Fucked is to hire a professional sex trade worker and ask her to pretend she genuinely enjoys your company, a la "GFE", or girlfriend experience, for those of you not up on the current lingo.
Now of course many of you who have a problem paying attention to what I'm saying through all your filters, are going to assume that I am being a cunt when I say "hire a pro if you want a sure thing". But you wouldn't get so charged up about it if we were talking about dentistry or mechanics or anything else you enlist the services of a professional for, including but not limited to the grocery store, educators, medical experts or any other need that is fulfilled by another human being, which amounts to a lot of human beings in the course of a day. And you don't seem to confuse their roles with anyone else's.
So, my pretties, whether you choose to accept that you are the one with fucked up ideas about sex trade workers doesn't change the fact that I have no beef with anyone who does their job well, regardless of that job.
Ooh, brilliant segue right there, as well as a brilliant neon sign about the true nature of my character... Soooo, speaking of good at a job and words that offend and affirm, did you forget to remember that you found me on a blog, this one to be precise, or a social media network that leads to this blog? Do you really want all of your intimate details of your/our reality to be spewed out for almost 10,000 visitors in a matter of two months? Have you even read any of the blog to try to find out about the pussy that brings it to you. Because my values shine loud and clear through the content, so it really isn't difficult to determine if I am a compatible partner beyond the photo of great cleavage.
I'd almost be willing to bet real Canadian Tire Money that three quarters of my outlook, on the world we inhabit and this human condition we are all living through, make you uncomfortable simply based on the filters you have revealed you are operating through. One of those being that I am the way I am to slight you personally. That's simply silly eight year old ego mentality that you've yet to to grow out of. If you really believed the things you repeat, you wouldn't feel so threatened about the perspective I have gained by actually thinking about the things I've heard repeated and choosing not to continue their repetition.
Aside from every indication that you're a stage five clinger who gives every indication of a tendency to give in to your petty and jealous insecurities, your lack of depth is ultimately what rules you out from being a suitable candidate for fuckery, or most anything else other than fodder for this great blog, and rather than asking you to be something you're not, which is an entirely too popular a sport among y'all, I accept your limitations by spending my time with friends and lovers who actually excite me on many levels. That wouldn't be such a mystery to you if you stopped daydreaming and paid attention for a second but if you prefer ejection, continue as you were. I'm entirely willing to be the one who is pragmatic in all this, it is somewhat of a feminine trait when it comes to sex partner selection. It's just that I got this idea, from all the whining and crying you get up to upon being rejected, that it wasn't your preference.
|A future guest blogger's comment on this screenshot was probably the most apt |
and I will quote him to caption this photo:
"It puts the lotion on the skin"...
Fantasy is normal and it's healthy. To a degree. But deluding oneself is harmful in the long term. Even my niece has come around on her infatuation with Justin Bieber and she is still a kid. It honestly gives me hope for the human race that she has matured enough beyond her unreasonable expectations to realize that her appreciation of his music and his cuteness is not enough to warrant the possibility of their future engagement.