My Opinion Has Changed

Alternate title: Why Women Suck (and not in a good way)

I wrote about this subject over a year ago, and came to very different conclusions at that time. Observations and life experiences since then have drastically altered my opinion. And to be clear, this is my opinion, nothing more or less.

Based on my admittedly limited experience, I now understand that I have been deceived. With a few exceptions, girls are NOT made of sugar and spice and everything nice. They aren’t sweet, delicate flowers, deserving of adoration and protection. They damn sure don’t belong on the pedestal where I’ve been trying to put them all my life. Sure, there are contributing factors – male behavior, feminism, and the general moral decline of society, to name a few. But generally speaking, I now firmly believe that women are selfish, devious and manipulative beings at their core. They should never be trusted, and should only be approached with extreme caution.

Most feign an interest in men, but precious few are sincere. Sure, they want what they can get from men. Kids? A man is by far the easiest way to get some. Improved standard of living and increased fiscal security? Snaring a man with a full time job requires significantly less effort than years of school followed by more years working one’s way up the career ladder. And so forth.

Rarely does a woman give a shit what her man likes or what makes him happy. Almost none make any real effort to learn, much less attempt to contribute to his happiness. Unless it is part of a scheme to extrort something from him, of course. But may the Lord have mercy on the man who falls short on Valentine’s Day (or a myriad of other important dates). More about that later.

Most men are reasonably simple. Keep us well fed, well fucked, and our immediate living area relatively clean, and short of infidelity or attempted murder, leaving will never cross our mind.

Guess which of those three is the first to go. How about it, ladies? Choose one: Make your man a sandwich, sweep the floor, or have sex with him. The sandwich will win. Every. Fucking. Time. The broom will come in second. For some reason, physical intimacy drops off a woman’s radar as soon as she feels that she has her man locked, be it via marriage, kids, or whatever. That reason? She doesn’t give a fuck. Literally, in this case. She never did. Sure, she still wants him to do all the romantic shit, but putting out is the last thing on her mind.

I can hear the indignant protests now. So you don’t feel like it. Cry me a fucking river. I’m sure your man doesn’t always feel like dragging his ass out of bed and going to work every day. But he does it, though, doesn’t he? And sex takes significantly less time and effort than a work shift. Exception: If you are the primary breadwinner, you may occasionally play the “I don’t feel like it” card and still remain blameless.

Sex is validation for men. That’s how we know that our lady still likes us. How often it happens and how much effort it takes to get permission tells us how much she likes us. And that’s just it. Permission. We’ve been relegated to begging, like a supplicant before his queen. For something that should be freely given, especially if she cares about her man’s happiness and really loves him like she claims. Is it really such an unpleasant and arduous task? It must be.

And then there’s the jealousy and possessiveness. The second a woman thinks the slightest bit of her man’s attention might be at risk of being diverted elsewhere, all hell breaks loose. Even if the man did no wrong and had no ill intent in his heart.

Ladies, the next time you catch your man checking out some hottie, please hold off on losing your shit for a second. Ask yourself when the last time was that you enthusiastically laid that pussy on him. Too long ago to remember? Try an easier question. When was the last time you gave him some without him having to beg, plead and cajole? That’s what I thought. Shut the fuck up! You just made my point for me.

It isn’t just about sex, either. It sucks to be taken for granted. To not be appreciated. Ladies like to talk shit about how they are constant victims of this, and whine about the loss of romance in their relationships. The thing is, it’s a two way street. He hasn’t bought you flowers in a long time? You can’t remember the last piece of jewelry he got for you?

Take a look in the fucking mirror. What did you do for him last Valentine’s Day? It isn’t Woman’s Day – that’s March 8th. When was the last time you rubbed his feet after work without being prompted? Or had a cold beer waiting by his easy chair and the game queued up for him? Or whatever your man likes? I thought so. You don’t give a shit. Stop expecting him to.

And show some fucking appreciation when he does try to do something nice or romantic. Even if he fails miserably. No matter how awesome you think you are, and how certain you are that you deserve every romantic gesture imaginable, acknowledge the effort and return the favor from time to time. If you don’t, then you deserve it when he gives up and stops trying.

I dated a woman not long after high school. I made it a point to do something nice for her every week. Usually, it was flowers. Sometimes it was chocolate or something else that I knew she liked. For some reason that I’ve long forgotten, I missed or skipped a week. I caught holy hell over that. She’d gone from appreciative to feeling entitled in a few short months. We broke up soon after that. I had always chalked it up to her being an insane redhead (such is my penchant), but recent experiences with a couple brunettes have caused me to expand the source to the entire distaff side of the species.

So, guys, remember this. Women are caustic. Allow them into your life with great caution, fully understanding the inherent risks. Pussy is truly awesome, but seldom is it worth the cost.

And ladies, fight your DNA. Strive to be the wonderful, precious creatures that we want so badly to believe that you are. Instead of the soul-sucking, conniving abominations that your genetic programming seems to want you to be.

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Quote Of The Day

If she’s miserable, it’s because she is fundamentally incapable of being a human being, and chafes at the pretense.

Said by a dear friend as we were discussing an ex’s attempt yesterday to reestablish contact with me.  I had agreed with my friend that the smart thing to do would be to block her, but admitted that part of me wanted to hear her say how miserable she’s been since she left me.

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Fuck Larry Correia

I know I’m about to piss off and alienate at least three of my four regular readers. I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not. I’m annoyed enough that I don’t really give a fuck.

For a long time, I’ve considered myself a fan of author Larry Correia. I watched his journey to success with interest. I considered him a member of my tribe, or at least from a neighboring, friendly one. No more.

A while back, Mr. Correia posted something to the book of faces. It’s been long enough that it would be nearly impossible to find, but I deleted my comment anyway. I would like to maintain some degree of anonymity here on the blog. Here is the conversation.

Larry: One star reviews of book prices are dumb. Don’t be dumb. (He then linked to a one star review of one of his recent books.)

I agree with him wholeheartedly. Most assholes who do this haven’t bought the item that they “review” in the first place, which is another pet peeve of mine. But regardless, it’s stupid to allow price to be the primary/only factor when rating anything. If it’s out of your price range, don’t buy it. Don’t slam the product just because it costs more than you’re happy with. Based on some of the comments, I decided to ask a follow-up question.

Me: A serious question, if I may. Is it fair to use the price of the book as /a/ factor in rating it? For example, I pay $2.99 for an indie ebook. It’s good. Not Correia good, but good. I would rate it as a solid three stars. However, based on the entertainment value to price, I round up to four. Or conversely, a B-list author who is known for awesome work, and as a result his publisher prices his titles at $15 for an ebook. One falls short. Barely a four star performance. But considering the price, I round down to three stars, citing the price/value aspect as one of the the criteria. Is that dumb or unfair?

Larry (responding to my comment): By that logic I would only want reviews from people who checked the book out of the library.

Look, it is either good, or not good, or some shade in between. If you are anal enough to worry if a book came out to 50 cents versus 75 cents an hour, you’re probably not going to give many five stars anyway (emphasis mine). smile emoticon

I do have to give Mr. Correia credit. He took the time to reply, and he was polite. Since he’s become so successful, he is easily annoyed and quick to toss politeness aside. I can relate. I’m an asshole most of the time, and I’m not rich or well known. But the last sentence of his reply pissed me off enough to prompt this post.

I own at least one version of every full length work that he has ever published, including those co-authored by Mike Kupari. I have most in multiple formats. Here’s the part that stung. I have left reviews for at least some of them, all of which were 5-stars. I even recommended his stuff here on the blog. I guess I’m not that anal.

Why do we read/write reviews? To help decide whether or not to purchase a given item, right? How can price not figure into that decision? At least for normal people, who don’t buy mountains whenever we get the urge.

Larry used to be an accountant. So let’s look at this from an accounting perspective. Well, a budgeting perspective. I ain’t got no high falutin’ degree in accounting or nothing, but I do understand budgets.

First, let’s define entertainment cost. When Larry said, “50 cents versus 75 cents an hour” he is talking about book cost divided by reading time. So, let’s use that.

And let’s say that I have a twenty dollar per month budget for books.

Don’t get all self-righteous on me about how I spend the rest of my money. Even if I spend a hundred dollars every month at Starbux, that is a separate line item on my budget and my personal choice.  Fuck you if you don’t approve. It’s not part of the current discussion.

For the record, I hate coffee, and I intentionally misspelled the aforementioned company’s name. I am aiming this at those who like to make smartass comments about the cost of a book being the same as a lunch or two cups of coffee, and how dare I complain about such a paltry sum. I decide how I want to spend my money. Period. This is a conversation about deciding how to spend whatever amount I designate.

Rather than discussing different formats, I’m going to limit this to digital content, and exclude Kindle First and other books that can be acquired free of charge. That way, it’s an apples to apples discussion. The last fifteen e-books that I bought cost $64.01, including tax. That’s roughly $4.27 each.

I don’t time myself while reading. Some books are longer than others, and some are faster or slower reads than expected based on word or page count. For the sake of discussion, I will say that it takes me an average of five hours to read each book. That puts my current average entertainment cost at just over $0.85 per hour.

Mr. Correia’s latest book, Into the Wild currently costs $7.99, or $8.55 with tax in my jurisdiction. Well over a third of my monthly budget for a single title. At about 250 pages, ItW is shorter than average, also. Most of the books I buy are around 300 pages. Hell, ItW is a novella when compared to Correia’s MHI books, which tend to be 500-700+ pages.

Let’s say that it would take me four hours and fifteen minutes (instead of my average of five hours), to read. Plug that into the formula, and we find out that entertainment cost is $2.01 per hour. Almost two and a half times my average. How can that not be a deciding factor?

Update: For the record, I did buy ItW. I may or may not have regretted my purchase.

I admit that four dollars per book is firmly in the fast food equivalent of the ebook market.  To continue the restaurant analogy, if I’m going to go out for a nice sit-down meal, I’d like to know that it’s going to be worth it. But it seems that Mr. Correia would have us ignore that pesky little thing known as a price tag.

I’d been sitting on this post for a couple of months. Recently, he posted something else that prompted me to update and publish this.

The new Call of Duty: Infinite trailer looks cool and all, but I got bored and quit the last two pretty quick. The last one I didn’t actively hate like the one before it, but I never even bothered finishing the single player campaign, and I got to about level fifty on mulitiplayer before I just drifted off. I don’t feel like I got my $50 worth of enjoyment out of it. (emphasis mine)

It was all I could do to refrain from copying and pasting his own comment back at him. Look, it is either good, or not good, or some shade in between. You’re not supposed to consider the cost for entertainment products. Or does that only apply to your books?

Fucking hypocrite.

Dance, monkey. (h/t Jennifer)

I still enjoy his work. I will continue to buy it as long as he continues to not suck. But I’m no longer a fan. I will no longer make it a point to time my purchases to help him make more bestseller lists. And I won’t review any more of his stuff. Or go out of my way to recommend anything he writes, whether I enjoy it or not. Fuck him.

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English, Motherfucker

Do you speak it? I’m no Rhodes Scholar or Mensa member, and I have an affinity for vulgarity that many say is a sign of ignorance. But damn! The other day, I found this gem on the book of faces:

I never buy boots at Aldoes again bought a pair they lasted one month then the heal started comming off and they told me I had to fix it over price cheap junk..from the Mall that didn’t last even a month…Once you wear them your stuck with there Junk don’t buy there..there not fair….

This just makes my head hurt. He hit almost every error possible in less than sixty words. Numerous blatant grammar, punctuation and capitalization errors. Spelling and word misuse errors. Hell, in the last eight words he managed to use “there” for there, their, and they’re. That’s got to be a fucking record.

It was authored by a childhood friend slightly older than me whom I haven’t seen in over a quarter of a century. I thought he was reasonably well educated at least literate. Since he found me on FB and I’ve been subjected to his ignorance on a regular basis, I had to revisit that assessment.

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The Dream

The other day, I was talking to Mrs. Best Friend. On more than one occasion, she has expressed the wish that she could introduce me to someone, but all the women she knows are crazy. Her words, not mine. One lady in particular came up during the conversation. She’s been seeing this dude for thirteen years, and just found out that he’s been married the whole time.

Or at least that is her story. And I can believe it. I’ve been what, in hindsight, can only be described as willfully oblivious. Wizard’s First Rule: “People are stupid. They will believe a lie because they want to believe it’s true, or because they are afraid it might be true.”

Part of me wanted to beg her for an introduction. I mean, the girl has to be loyal to have stuck it out as long as she did. And she must bring something good to the table, otherwise dude wouldn’t have kept stringing her along for thirteen years while still going home to his wife every night.

Yes, my dream lives on.

But I know there’s no chance. Either she wouldn’t like me. Or she would find my appearance a turn off. Or I would be the one guy on the planet that she would leave. Or dude’s mistreatment has irreparably damaged her. Or all of the above.

I’m done. But my fantasy will not die until I draw my final breath on this earth.

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Financial Recovery

Two months ago, I reached a milestone. I bought a gold coin. Let me explain.

Almost two years ago, I started down a very bad path with B. I didn’t know it at the time. I was in love, and happier than I’d been in a long time. I was in good shape financially. My house was a work in progress in a poor neighborhood, but I owned it free and clear. In fact, the only debt I had was my car payment on a 1.9% promotional interest rate, and a couple thousand on Lowe’s/Amazon 12 months no interest deals. I also had a decent amount of gold bullion in coins.

As of four months ago, the gold was gone, the car had been refinanced at market interest rates to get cash out, I had a near-six figure mortgage on a house that I neither wanted nor needed, and my credit card debt was right at thirty thousand dollars. B was long gone, and Houseguest had just finished fleecing me.

Today, my credit card debt is just over ten thousand dollars, all on zero percent deals that will easily be paid off before the promotions end during the next several months.

I’m far enough ahead on the car that it will be paid off by the end of this year, even if I only make the normal monthly payments.

Last month, I refinanced my mortgage to a half percent lower interest rate, and because of the amount I’d managed to pay ahead, the PMI amount dropped from over ninety dollars per month to just over fifty. All on a no fee mortgage – all I had to pay was title and recording costs.

I’ve also started participating in FaucetCompany’s 401k plan to the tune of fifteen percent of my gross paycheck.

And I have gold again. In fact, every week since my initial purchase, I’ve bought some. Some weeks, all I can afford is a 1/2 gram “bar”, but always something. I still only have a small amount – a fraction of what I had before. But it’s a huge emotional victory.

You can’t keep a good man down!

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Soggy Summer

Officially, summer is still a ways out. In reality, it’s already here. It’s averaged highs in the upper 80s this month,  which is 15-20 degrees warmer than normal. Yesterday, I broke down and turned on the air conditioning. I can’t sleep when I’m drowning in a pool of sweat, which starts to happen at 84-85 degrees.

As unpleasant as the heat is, especially for a fat man like me, there’s something familiar and almost comforting about summer. FaucetCompany is notorious for extreme heat index numbers in the plant. It’s not there yet, but yesterday the temperature at the load side of my machine was 88. Up on the machine where I live, near thousands of gallons of heated baths and hot air from parts dryers, it is always much worse. Thing is, I wasn’t sweating much. So much for my plans to move to Wyoming and retire. I’ll never be able to adapt to the cold now.

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