The most popular articles I write consist of me, emptily boasting, about doing what any other man could easily do, if he had the time and proclivity. I get the most likes, comments, upvotes, and stars, not for talking about philosophy or politics, but simply telling the stories and posting the screenshots of my conquests. I get the feeling that a lot of brothers — even some who are married to supposed unicorns — are jealous of this. Fuck me. Any other man could do exactly the same thing, provided he lowered his standards enough to lay with the sorts of hot-but-vacuous whores I regularly plow.
Where do I meet these skanks? The majority come from random encounters, and not in bars or nightclubs, but on the street or in the supermarket. A large minority come from the typical dating sites: Tinder and PoF being the most fertile (heh), but also including OK Cupid, Match, and several others. For our purposes, we’ll just lump them together, and we’ll just call this class of virtual meeting-places ‘Fuckbook’ for short.
If you decide to take up the playa lifestyle, you will inevitably run into the “nice girl” who advertises her wares on Fuckbook, with scantily clad photos, usually showing everything but the nips and clit. These same whores will inevitably complain that there are no real men left in the world. You know, the types of real men like their fathers and grandfathers, who treated wimminz with “respect,” and who “never looked at wimminz as sex objects,” and who courted the wimminz with flowers, picking up the check like a dutiful sucker at the end of each meal.
The whore will bemoan her every interaction. “Why, oh why, can’t I get myself a trustworthy and dutiful man?” She’ll ask, while she’s down on all fours getting reamed by my cock, less than three hours after our first real-world encounter.
This is not a parody, and I didn’t make this profile up simply to serve as an illustration, though I would understand if the married bros assumed I did. (If I tried, I wouldn’t be this audacious.)
There seems to be a marked shift in the dynamic on Fuckbook. About two years ago I started seeing it, and it hit critical mass (in my area) around the pre-thanksgiving of 2017 — sometime around six months ago. It is as though all the “party girl” types were suddenly transforming into “nice girl” types before my eyes. Gone were the photos of the slut, giving a blow job to a beer bottle, as nude people of all ages foam-partied behind her. Gone were the “I have the pussy, so I make the rules” memes. The slut formerly known as “skankho69” has completely rebranded, and is now calling herself “virginalcupcake90” on Fuckbook. She’s now pretending to be a lovely young unicorn, ready to marry you and live a monogamous life as a good, dutiful wife.
At first I thought I was aging out of the skank wimminz, and into a new paradigm of born-again-virgins; but, a bit of research suggests that assumption was hasty. Given that I’ve been on Fuckbook continuously for nearly three years, in the same American city, and given that I have the memory and attention span of something greater than a housecat, I can remember my first view of virginalcupcake90, when she posed bent-over in red lingerie for the camera, and posted the best shot on Fuckbook. The skank will inevitably keep some things constant, like the photo of her running a 5k race, and the photo of her in a business suit, and the photo of her getting her MBA from a shit-tier diploma mill, up for cross-referencing. Moreover, I can dip into the Fuckbook girls who are in their early 20s, and I see nary a skank ho slut in sight, only virginal cupcakes, who are ready to
land a sucker walk down the aisle for the dutiful nice-guy.
In this regard, wimminz will always be one step ahead of men. They are rightly lampooned as being not very intelligent, but they have an antlike intuition about what will work, and the meme seems to spread among them almost instantly, wherein they will all rebrand on-the-fly, and present the opposite characteristics they were displaying a day prior.