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Reservoir Tip slips the thematic quip in his anecdotal blip,

Had a great, short exchange with a German girl I’ve been seeing:

“You know… I’m getting ready to leave town, so maybe I’ll actually take you on anise little date before I go.”

“Out of your apartment?!”

It struck me: every date I’ve been on with this girl has been she coming to my apartment to hang out, or me making her take me to get food or groceries. I’ve never spent a penny on her, or taken her anywhere even remotely interesting.

This is the same girl that told me what she liked about me was the fact that I’m an asshole, and all her ex-boyfriends were lost puppies.

The things you can get away with when you have the right attitude…

So true. When I’ve been on top of my game, full of self-indulgent attitude, the women in my life would demand so little, and give so much. Fancy dinners? No. How about crashing in bed all day, fucking and channel flipping. That’s the shared intimacy which makes fond romantic memories you might tell your grandkids with sufficient euphemistic nuance.

The right attitude is the equivalent of eight figure bank, seven inches extra height, six circles of social connections, five academic credentials, and four plates on bench press. The Attitude is irreplaceable.


eofahapi is our runner-up COTW:

I believe that the reason men experience such intense highs and lows, is because for them their emotion is not used as much. They do not talk or live in emotions, they live in logic, so when that emotion boils over, it is raw, uncultivated, childlike and intense. It is extremely endearing.

Women love a stoic man not necessarily for his stoicism, but for the anticipation they feel for his white hot passion when he is roused from his stoic slumber.


Finally, a COTW consolation prize goes to PA, for his recounting an experience with a svelte sexpot that would send the typical tenth wave millennial fug feminist into a rage spiral of rape-flecked spittle.

Confession from my early 20s. Hotel party, lots of people and drinking. This dude and I both gun for the same chick. Unfortunately she goes for him. He was a grade-A asshole alpha, so I understand. Later everyone crashes in various beds, floor, etc. Dude, chick, and I share a queen size bed and I get woken up by their fumbles at fucking. He got whiskey dick and they gave up. Now I’m horny and wanna do something.

She seems asleep. So I coyly put my arm on her, pretending its in my sleep. I stop and gauge her response. Nothing. Almost, like she’s pretending to be asleep. I tell myself to go ahead, and I slide my hand up her T-shirt, no bra underneath. And I am ready for her to jump awake angry, in which case I’d say “sorry, I was asleep and probably thought you’re my last girlfriend.”

But she is still. I friggin swear, by her breathing, that she is pretending to be asleep. So I start playing with her breasts, gently at first and then boldly. Horny as hell at this point, I slide my hand down her ribcage, her tight tummy, down to the elastic of her shorts. and she moves her hand to block me, at which point I know she’s awake and then I travel back north.

Female coyness is an evolved behavioral tic to fool men — and. come to think it, fool women as well — about women’s rapacious sexual urges. Of course, a girl can pretend to be asleep to receive the caresses of that slow hand without bearing the emotional dissonance that often accompanies prompt sexual submission to an illicit interloper.


Finally? One more! Cutting deep with the poison-tipped shiv, Musashi scans the Vox staff for signs of dormant testosterone, and draws a conclusion which earns him (her?) a consolation runner-up COTW.

If the grid went down everyone in that photo would be dead within 24 hours.
Those people won’t last a day once the diversity gets riled up.

They could use the equity in their blue city fantasyland one-bedroom condos to pay protection money, which might buy a few of them a week’s worth of extra life. Beyond that, there’s no amount of semantic evasion that’ll save them once the diversity hits the fan.


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