On missing the point of a relationship part deux

Forgot to add: Men also like that feeling of “us” you know that strange feeling that happens when you meet someone you really like and you feel that there’s this little bubble around the pair of you. That somehow you are separate from the rest of the world, that you two understand each other better than anyone else can, that there is a special bond between you that only you two can share. We like feeling that this person is the one that special person that uniquely connects to us and that we connect to uniquely.Well that’s a little bit hard to achieve with a person who’s entire life has been their career. 

Personally speaking I love Dakota because she keeps coming out with intelligent things to say which often I agree with, and when I disagree with I respect as being an intelligent position. I love her because she doesn’t read the usual soppy, badly written crap that most women read, she reads the kind of stuff I read, she engages with stuff that I engage with. I can relate to her, I can view her as being special among women, she stands out from the crowd. Her job is unimportant, her earnings are unimportant, her education is not to be judged by a bit of paper but what she says and does. All that matters is who she is.

On missing the point of a relationship.

I find it interesting that when women talk about men not wanting to commit or marry the extent of their thinking can be summised by two statements; “Men want sex, if men don’t want to commit to us it’s because they can get sex without commitment” and something like “I know lots of successful, attractive, women who can’t find men who want to commit”.

No woman ever talks about herself or other women as a human being who has interests and hobbies and personality and character. You know, things a man might want. Apparently all men want is a successful fuck toy. I can’t decide if this is because women have a really low opinion of men, or if this is some kind of projection where what they’re looking for in a man is a successful fuck toy or both.

I actually find this kind of attitude common in women; that they have a good job, and good job prospects, and they have a nice bit of paper from a university which says that they’re educated and they’re puzzled about men’s total indifference to this. There’s something in their approach to relationships which seems to indicate to me that they think their job title, pay packet and qualifications are things which men find attractive, which to me just screams extreme shallowness. I do this thing when I’m talking to a woman for the first time, I ask them who they are and invariably they talk about their job as if they have no identity outside of their work. If they got sacked tomorrow they would be nothing, they have no internal sense of self, it all comes from exterior things.

From that I tend to think that really it’s the latter explanation; women are only interested in successful fuck toys and assume that men think the same way that they do. They’re not primarily looking for someone loving, supportive and caring with interests, opinions and hobbies, they’re looking for a good set of genes which has proven itself to be a good set of genes by securing a good paycheck for itself.

Curiously men are quite put off by this kind of attitude; we rather like having someone who appreciates us for who we are, someone who we can be certain would appreciate us no matter how much we make or what job we do, you know, someone who loves us for us. Someone who actually loves us and not our job or the nice certificate that says that we’re educated.

Seeing red

Speaking of clothes, if you want to piss off every man you know, wear red. In fact in general if you’re a guy and you don’t like getting gawked at by other men, do not dress well at all. Just do the jeans, t-shirt and scruffy trainers routine that 90% of guys do. That’s sneakers for those readers unfortunate enough to have not been taught English in school. I digress. Honestly, you put a pair of smart chinos on, wear a shirt with a collar, a nice pair of shoes and a sports jacket and it’s like you suddenly sprout G cup boobs because men just stare and stare at you.

The pseudo-rant.

I have really poor impulse control. 

You know, it may be me or rather my perception but, I seem to spend an awful lot of time listening to people’s problems. I, on the other hand, don’t really have many problems, certainly none which I could talk about for an hour or so. The only problem I really have is that I have a mood disorder. I could win the lottery and be being ridden senseless by Dakota and still be miserable…….possibly……..I think scientific research needs to be done on this point. Anywho, so my only real problem in life is that I feel like shit half the time and like beating myself up, but I restrict that to this blog. 

That and my general musings about what exactly I’m doing in life. Other than that I have to make shit up to whinge about because I enjoy whinging. I say make shit up, I have to nit pick. They’re things to satisfy my argumentative nature rather than things that massively rile me up. 

You know, I feel the need to run off to America and thence run off with a stripper called Candy, do we think this can be arranged? 

Actually I have a seriously first world problem: Do dark blue suede shoes go with light blue chinos? See I’m following that rule that says “When in doubt, go tonal” it’s either that or go with brown shoes but I’m not sure…………. Also I’m fed up of looking at plebs who are wearing trousers that are too short or have their trousers rolled up and wearing loafers without socks. It reminds me of this. For me the entire point, I realise that at this point I’m stretching credibility a bit thin with the light blue chinos, but bare with me, the entire point of dressing is so that when you walk into the room people look at you and go, “You are the boss”. I look at these models and I’m like “Did your mummy dress you?” 

Fuck it, I’m off to bed.

W00t

So my new clothes arrived yesterday, needless to say I am now even more so the quintessence of English style and therefore awesome. It cost me a small fortune, especially the sports jacket, but it’s worth it; all my bitches are most impressed. Now I’ve caught the bug and I’m thinking if I be really boring and not go out and be careful with my spending I can buy a complete new outfit in two weeks. I’m starting to think of it as not being boring though, because when I step out in this outfit anyone who looks at me is going to go blind from over exposure to sheer awesomeness.

 

The Beeb

Watching this thing about lunatics who go looking for bigfoot. They’re full on bat shit crazy. I mean totally cray cray. I honestly think that once in a while the BBC realise that they have x number of hours per year of TV and y number of hours of film and y is less than x and immediately they dispatch a film crew to America to just find crazy people, it’s the immediate go to thing. Ostensibly these films are always about something semi-sensible, but really they’re just so that the population of the UK can sit there in wide eyed bemusement for an hour until someone breaks the shocked silence with “tea?”. 

 

Dead good.

I just watched this program on BBC3 about the death penalty in America and to say it left me uneasy is an understatement. A few things strike me, first, isn’t it interesting that we can’t say “death penalty” we end up calling it “execution” or “capital punishment”. The other thing is seeing the gurney that they strap people down to before they inject them and I found that quite sickening. If we think of the holocaust the thing that makes it shocking isn’t really the numbers, other regimes have killed far more people, what shocks us is the industrialisation of genocide, the cold, inhuman, detachment to mass murder and seeing that gurney reminded me of that.

It’s the whole medicalisation of it, they even sterilise the needles, the whole thing is given this callous veneer of a medical procedure which for me takes it beyond the holocaust. The nazis, even at their worst, admitted at least to themselves that a death camp was a death camp. Americans have to adopt this pretense of caring and compassion over the destruction of someone they hate, they invert the empathetic, compassionate act of basic human solidarity that characterises the actions of a doctor and I just find that sickening. It’s an admission that they find it sickening that they can’t even justify it to themselves. The Saudi’s drag you out in public and behead you, they don’t mess around, there’s no pretense, they’re killing you and they’re comfortable with that. The Chinese take you out and put a bullet in the back of your head, again, no pretense. Americans dress it up and try and sanitise it and there’s just something guilt ridden about that.

Guilt ridden and slightly sociopathic: On this day, at this precise time, we’re going to strap you down and inject you with these chemicals in a medical style way. Cold. Rational. Detached. Calculated.