Shallow | The Habitation of Justice

Why I’m ok with being a shallow pig

Lincoln Adams | December 22, 2009 @ 2:00 pm

Occasionally, I tend to feel a bit guilty when I openly express my refusal to date women with man faces, land whale figures, or sporting more outlandish tattoos than a gay biker at a Blue Oyster bar.

But there are times when I literally cannot look upon a woman beast, partly because I just had lunch and would really like to complete the digestive process if you don’t mind, thank you very much. Oy.

As if that wasn’t enough, I can’t even accept as beautiful what Hollywood and Glamour magazine considers beautiful. I mean, I can see that they’re pretty by society’s standards, but even when they’re pretty they’re just… ugly. Case in point: Sarah Jessica Parker. UGLY. Julia Roberts. UGLY. Even Scarlett Johansson can’t get my engine going. And don’t even get me started on Tiger Woods’ hos. Seriously, all that money and you can’t find better looking monkey sluts? FAIL.

Anyhoo, I guess what I’m saying here is that I have very particular tastes when it comes to looks, and it’s not something I can really convey into words. They either got it, or they don’t. Or maybe I don’t think they got it at first, but after enough interaction and watching them act all girlie and stuff, I realize they not only got it, but they got it in spades. Mmmm mmm MMMM. (And then of course, they go off to marry a biker.)

So, does that make me shallow? I’m pretty sure it does, but here’s why I’m ok with that: women are worse. MUCH worse.

Almost ALWAYS without exception, the first thing I see in any personal ad by any women from here to Zimbabwe is their requirement that a man must be at least fill-in-the-blank tall. They start out by demanding the one physical criteria that men have absolutely no flipping control over whatsoever. I seriously have to thank God I clocked in at an average height here, or I’d be screwed royally six ways from Sunday. Even then I’m not tall enough to meet the standards of a significant amount of women.

And of course, women will also objectify men based on his looks, status, intelligence, earning power, the kind of shoes he wears and the car he drives. Yep, all things (with the possible exception of intelligence) that can truly define a man’s soul. Pffttt.

The irony of it all is that I’m actually ok with this too. We’re all disgustingly shallow beings here if we were to be completely honest with ourselves. And besides, it’s not without merit to judge a man according to his earning power for example (I make a crapload of money now by the way), just as it’s not without merit for me to expect that a woman should not look like the second coming of Jabba the Hut either.

I’m not stupid though. If I set a high bar for the women I meet, then I have to apply those same standards to myself as well. And if that means taking a shower more than once a week, well then… so be it. Better hygiene, better clothes, and possibly a medieval torture machine so I can stretch my height just a few inches more, yep, I’ll do all that and more if it makes her happy.

Tags: beautiful, men, physical criteria, shallow, standards, ugly, women
Categories: Romance and Relationships

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Who needs wimmins…

Lincoln Adams | April 21, 2007 @ 12:57 pm

….when I can now enjoy the fresh episodes of Stargate SG-1 and Atlantis? :banana:

I got my tub of Blockbuster popcorn, a nice tall glass of Diet Cola, and the easy chair all geared up and ready to go. Ahhh, a Friday night all to myself. Maybe now I’ll be able to forget about how Uptown Girl strung me along for months and then finally blew me off, the no-good lying backstabbing Babylonian harlot may she choke on her own vomit.

But I’m not upset about it.

I kinda knew deep down that things wouldn’t get very far with her. Not so much because we came from two different worlds, but also because she gave off the vibe of being an emotionally cold, self indulgent woman. If she truly had a kind heart, one that showed a genuine care and concern for others, then why was she working for a law firm that catered only to rich clients? Why wasn’t her heart drawn to helping less fortunate people, victims of wrongdoing who never see justice only because they simply couldn’t afford it? Why didn’t she take time to volunteer for charitable work? Where was that trait I was so earnestly looking for, of a woman who was willing to stretch forth her hand to the poor and needy? She just didn’t have it.

It was clear instead that she enjoyed living the good life. Sipping wine, vacationing to exotic places, tanning on beaches, jacuzzis, massages, and so on, the kind of life she could only sustain by working for an affluent law firm. Yet, I don’t begrudge her for doing these things. I think there’s a time and place for recreation and fun, but I also think there’s a point where your life becomes so hedonistic that it can corrupt your soul. And even though she professed to be a Christian, spirituality to her was something that was summed up in attending church once a week, and nothing more. She was not one I could share deep discussions about my faith with. And this was a maddening mentality I’ve seen repeatedly before which I could never understand. How can people truly expect to placate God by only dedicating a few hours on Sunday to Him, and then completely forget about Him for the rest of the week? Can they honestly believe He is pleased by this display of lukewarm spirituality?

Through my emails I opened my heart up to her, and though she claims to have been touched by it, I knew she really wasn’t. There was no empathy, no concern for my well-being, no genuine interest in how I was dealing with the aggravation and problems I was currently experiencing in my life, even though I was certainly interested in what her daily afflictions might have been. But the thing is, she didn’t have any. Suffering for her was not being able to sip wine on her patio because it rained.

She wasn’t a bad person though. But she wasn’t a good person either. I began to realize all this early on, but I guess I held on anyway, hoping against hope that maybe she would surprise me. Maybe she would indeed have a soft and gentle soul, tuned in to the suffering of others, with a fire inside her that yearned to alleviate their burdens and comfort those that needed comforting. Maybe the apparent coldness she seemed to give off was just borne out of an understandable hesitation to open up to me. Maybe for once, my sixth sense was just wrong here.

Or maybe not.

Now it’s back to enjoying Friday nights all by myself again, with only a tub of popcorn and a teddy bear named Homer to keep me company.

Tags: affection, atlantis, blockbuster, caring, charitable work, christian spirituality, christianity, Christians, church, cold, comfort, concern, diet cola, email, empathetic, firm, gentle, girl, God, harlot, hedonistic, kind heart, law, life, love, massages, popcorn, romance, self indulgent, shallow, soul, spirituality, stargate, stargate sg 1, TV, two different worlds, uptown girl, vain, vomit, woman, women, women suck
Categories: Lincoln's Personal Log, Romance and Relationships

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Diamonds are forever?

Lincoln Adams | March 24, 2007 @ 12:25 pm

My ass.

I recently saw the movie Blood Diamond, which provided just a small glimpse into the violent world of diamond trade, and I tell ya, it’s enough to make me never want to buy a diamond for as long as I live.

Honestly, I never understood it’s appeal. It’s a rock. A bloody useless friggin’ rock. It does nothing except to prove just how utterly vain and shallow women (especially American women) are. A man’s love for such a girl is worth nothing to her unless he goes out and recklessly spends $5000 on a piece of sparkling rock (from which human blood may have been shedded for), something she’ll probably never wear anyway except on special occasions. That’s money that could pay bills, be used to buy nice clothes, or for taking a really sweet vacation to Prague.

I dunno, maybe it’s just me, but it just seems criminal to spend that kind of money on a piece of bling bling that won’t do anything except make some girl look good (sometimes). It’s certainly not for the guys, that’s for sure. I can’t even tell a diamond from a zirconia, so what do I give two flying leaps what kind of jewelry some two-bit ho bag from uptown is sporting?

If a girl truly thinks diamonds are her best friend, then she’ll never be any friend of mine. You feel me, dog? :shades: