Other posts related to whores

My first ever post of what will be the most exciting year evaaaahhh!!!11

Lincoln Adams | January 1, 2010 @ 2:24 pm

Yawn.

So, basically, I brought in the new year by watching old episodes of Heroes from Netflix and popping Ferrero Rondnoirs. I hadn’t even realized it was 2010 until 3 minutes past midnight. I also refused to turn on the TV to see the ball go down because I am just not a fanboy of watching stupid, drunken revelers gyrating all over each other to the tune of crap metal devil music. Plus Dick Clark is a weenie.

Next year I hope will be a different story. Instead of gouging myself on chocolates, I hope to ring in the near year with my first ever new year’s kiss. With a woman. :D It’s going to happen, because if I can’t get some stupid, skanked up, self-absorbed, two-bit whore to cooperate and see what a great, sweet guy I am by then, then I’m just gonna hire me a hooker to give me a kissy wissy when the clock strikes 12.

Oh by the way, women SUCK.

No wait, I’m going somewhere with this. I’ve been having a fascinating discussion on a forum about relations between men and women, and some female newcomer talks about how she hates virgins and thinks they are creepy, dysfunctional, and like, totally uncool, and that only men with experience are worth chasing after. So naturally I called her a whore.

But that got me thinking. I always assumed the reason women who slept around were called whores while men who did the same were called studs was due to the byproduct of living in a patriarchal society. But now I see that women are completely to blame for these stereotypes. Why? Because while men respect women who are chaste/virgins, women however do not respect men for being the same. They in fact HATE THEM. A guy who sleeps with 50 women will be adored in the eyes of these skanks, while a virgin is shunned and derided.

As a Christian, I believe sex outside of marriage is wrong, and therefore chose to honor God and practice abstinence until I found “the one.” I’ve had several opportunities in my life to get on the funky, but I was so repulsed by the women who tried to… seduce me(?) that the decision to say no was easy. Back then I was really an ignoramus, I just couldn’t understand how women could proposition me without knowing anything about me, without any romance, without any emotional bond. They just slept around like it was no big deal.

Nowadays it’s even easier to remain a virgin, because now NOBODY wants me. :D Only I think part of it was because I so freely talked about my virginal background. I’ve never been with a woman, but I always assumed saving myself for “the one” would endear me to them even more. It never really occurred to me that it had just the opposite effect. Even those that purport to be Christian I suspect still subconsciously shun me and lose respect for me because I am not a player.

So how then can I attract women now? Well it’s simple: LIE. If anyone asks, I have had 20 women in my life, and they ALL want me back. :shades:

That’s why I say women don’t want honesty, they want the right answers. I give them the wrong answer because stupid me thinks they might appreciate honesty, and they will run away like a thief in the night. It doesn’t matter who I am as a person, it only matters that I am only desirable to them if OTHER women also found me desirable. That’s why married men are more attractive to women than single. That’s why men with built-in harems are more attractive to women than men who practice monogamy.

The truth is I can’t reveal anything about my past, because I don’t see anything in it that could allure a girl. Everything I say about myself WILL be used against me in the court of romance and wubs. I have to lie, at least until I can get her emotionally invested in me, because the sad truth is, it’s the only way I can get any kind of woman to be interested in me. In the meantime, I might ask some of you to fake call me while I’m out on a date and like, cry on the phone and stuff over how badly you miss me and want me back. I’ll put you on speaker so she can hear it too. :ggrin:

Yep, I can’t see how my revised approach here to lie my way into a new relationship could possibly go wrong. :whistle:

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eHarmony needs to be declared a terrorist state and eradicated from existence.

Lincoln Adams | November 29, 2009 @ 11:25 am

I know I’ve bashed eHarmony before, but this is the last and final time. Maybe.

For this last attempt and latest attempt in the world of online dating, I signed up for a discount special where I “only” have to pay $20 a month for 3 months. It was cheap enough that I figured what the heck, but of course after only the first month I was so disgusted that I wanted to cancel my subscription early. That’s when I found out that they would not refund the rest of my subscription since I had signed up under one of their discount specials, and as they clearly indicated on page 489, section 5G, Subdivision 23 of their terms of service (font needs to be enlarged by 200% to be readable), I am thus not eligible for a refund.

So I was stuck. I could cancel and lose money, or just keep it going until it finally expired, because hey, you never know right? … … …

Well today my subscription has finally expired, and here’s what I do know: I have amassed a total of over 800 failed matches. EIGHT HUNDRED. 800 land whales, man beasts, visa hunters, neurotic cracknuts and mothers with 5 kids looking for a new daddy, not to mention the horde of whores who closed me out because I wasn’t tall enough, rich enough, or didn’t have the courtesy of mentioning what car I drove. And then of course, the nonresponsive types that I would beg, plead and grovel to respond to a communication request I sent, and finally the nonpaying members with their stupid remarks at the end of their profiles: “Oh by the way I’m not a paying member, so even if you were my dream guy, I wouldn’t be able to contact you. Sorry!”

You know, if you tallied up my failed experiences with online dating since the beginning, I’m pretty sure it’s now over 1000. Seriously, at what point do I finally say, to #&*ing hell with this crap? I really thought online dating would be an answer to prayer. I wouldn’t have to go to bars or other seedy places with no other purpose on my mind than to get me a hottie. I wouldn’t have to go to church and raise my hand in worship while scoping the congregation for babes, only to realize that they’re all either 80 years old or married. At least on dating sites, I could find single women according to my personal preferences and beliefs. I didn’t have to make a shot in the dark on the distant hope that a complete stranger I met on the street would have everything I’m looking for. I didn’t have to worry that I would be judged and dismissed on my looks or preference for Old Navy clothes up front before a woman had a chance to know me. Online dating did away with all those potential roadblocks.

Well, no it didn’t.

What it introduced me to was the absolute worst humanity had to offer. Dating became akin to sifting through a Walmart circular, trying to find the best deals on products whose quality ratings were questionable at best. Women were discount grocery items that I would need to squeeze at times to see if they were still fresh, or just a little too ripe for my liking.

Is this really how I want to meet the girl of my dreams? That when people ask us how we met, I’d have to say it was through the Hoinky Boinkys R’ Us Dating Site for Stupid, Desperate Numbnuts? Pass.

So you know what, I’m done. I am DONE with this BULL :censor:.

I will never use an online dating site again. If I really want a NICE girl who is not bat guano crazy, I am just gonna have to get up off my lazy love biscuits and find her myself. And in the mean time I am just going to move on and live life the way I please. I’m not going to deprive myself of some of the great experiences life has to offer me just because I have no one to share that moment with.

I’ve been trapped in that thinking for too long, and it’s time now to turn over a new leaf and start a new chapter.

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Bros with Hos

Lincoln Adams | April 22, 2007 @ 2:28 pm

While I was out getting my ride cleaned up at the nearby self car wash, I noticed a couple behind me in an obnoxiously large pickup truck. The guy got out to get some change, so I glanced over to get a look at him. Fuzzy faced, sports cap on tight, shorts down to his kneecaps, and keys with a neckband so long it dragged across the ground as he approached the change machine. I couldn’t get a good look at the girl riding shotgun, but I could tell she was cute.

Normally, seeing a scum sucking scuzzbucket (apparently emulating Eminem or some other pasty white rapper wanna-be loser) like that with a girl would get me upset, but then I stepped back and took a deeper look here.

What was I getting upset about really? Because he had a girl, and I didn’t? But was it because no girl could ever want me, or was it simply because I had standards? Truthfully, I could go out right now and grab up some back alley ho that I could wrap my arm around and show off to all my friends if I really wanted to. But I wanted something better. I wasn’t content to have some two bit slut with the morals of a brain damaged monkey on crack in my life, just to prove that I could get a girl. I was looking for much more than that.

What’s really sad though is that even though I think my standards are reasonable enough, 80 percent of the single female population probably don’t measure up. Under ideal standards, 99.99 percent wouldn’t measure up, while the other .01 percent appear to live only in our dreams. Women today seem to vary from being skanks, whores, sluts, tramps, bimbolinas, etc., to being hellish female dogs spawned by Satan himself. Those who are godly, intelligent, kind and honest are an endangered species bordering on extinction, and even if I happen to come across one of them during my travels through life, there is usually some factor that would prevent me from pursuing them (like being married, for one). This is what our world has sadly has come to these days, and it is in this mess that I must somehow find the true girl of my dreams.

Yet as much as it would pain me to be alone, I recognize just how much MORE painful it would be to date a girl so obviously wrong for me, that to be with her would paradoxically make me feel even MORE alone and lost in the world.

It would seem impossible that I would ever meet anyone right for me, and yet despite the insurmountable odds I face here, I still have hope that she’s out there somewhere, a sweet and wonderful angel who is waiting and praying for me to come into her life soon. Call it delusion, insanity, or psychosis induced by food deprivation, but no matter what, this hope never seems to die. And for now, that will have to do as I fight to get my life in order again.

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The Sewage Known as the Dating Pool

Lincoln Adams | October 6, 2006 @ 8:16 pm

There are some women who are so far out of my league that if my league exploded, they wouldn’t hear the sounds for another three days. (Hat tip to the TV movie, The Librarian). Fortunately, the sort I’m referring to here are bright, elegant and morally upright girls who are simply a part of a culture I can’t relate to.

Then there’s that other sort, the sordid crack whore types who almost take perverse pride in the fact that they’re crack whores. They demonstrate all the moral aptitude of a brain damaged alley cat, and their pasttime consists mostly of getting drunk, fooling around, and then getting drunk again. You know the type I’m referring to here. They almost always have Myspace websites exhibiting lewd and crude photos of themselves, (usually holding ironically enough, a glass of beer or wine), and which predictably contain quite a long list of comments from horny men looking for booty.

I had this vain hope that law school might weed out the most putrid of these sewage inhabiting bimbos, but alas it was too much to ask for. Case in point, here’s an excerpt of an email sent to an ex-law student’s blog, highlighting one particular floozy’s adventures in law school:

…the three of us nearly all got kicked out of law school for laughing in court while a rather unfortunate prostitute was arraigned. We had to write apologies to the dean and the judge, seriously. In the quagmire, I found a boyfriend… who, incidentally, had a wife. This boyfriend more or less saved my academic @$$ by teaching me Civil Procedure – to a solid C-level…

This former bartender turned attorney quite matter of factly conferred upon her readers the breathtakingly and morally bankrupt details of her law school experience, seemingly oblivious to what a complete tramp from hell she was making herself out to be. I’m inclined to think the whole thing was really made up, but sadly, I know better.

From blogs written by women who proudly declare themselves “Law Bitches” to the “supposedly” female blogger billing herself as the Law School Virgin (complete with sordid postings indicating a perpetually drunk little girl who enjoys only sporadic moments of sobriety), it’s no wonder why I’ve seem to have lost a measure of faith in the virtues of the opposite gender.

To think, these people will someday become lawyers. Good God.

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