You know how occasionally you come across one of those, “What would you tell you n year old self?” type things?

So I’m at the bar and I have my blazer on, because I love the thing to death. Under it I have my white Oxford shirt and a pair of jeans. I’m still radiating Blue de Chanel. In front of me and a little to my left are these two women, maybe 18-19, skinny, scantily clad and made up to the nines waiting for their drinks. I’m way taller than them so I’m looking clear over their heads keeping an eye on the bar, waiting my turn, nodding hello to the bar staff that I know. I’m deliberately not engaging with the women, not even looking directly at them but they’re in my peripheral vision and they’re looking around the bar too so they can see me.

Eventually I casually glance over them, as in I’m looking right over their heads to see if the bar still has that bottle of Talisker, and immediately they both start flicking their hair like mad, just constantly doing it. I look away and they stop. I look back over them and they start up again. I don’t even acknowledge their presence, I don’t even directly look at them.

I’d tell my 18 year old self that this kind of stuff would be quite common one day.

Also, is it me or do younger women really dress in a hypersexual way these days? Women have always worn skin tight clothes, shown their cleavage, their legs, their midriff, all that. I don’t remember women going around braless with basically an open top or braless while wearing a white T-shirt. So often over the past two years I’ve seen women who for all intents and purposes are showing the world their nipples and I’m pretty sure that never used to happen.

I have this hypothesis about this: So in the past people would be married in their early twenties and divorce was really hard so the competition for mates was quite a lot lower, people just grabbed whoever and then tried to make it work; they had a lot lower expectations.

Then feminism and the sexual revolution came a long and told women not to settle for anything less than the ideal man. Thing is, women don’t find many men all that attractive and so it’s kicked off an arms race. Eighty percent of women are now fighting for twenty percent, at maximum, of men.

I remember female obesity being a real thing when I was in my early twenties, most women were quite a bit overweight. I remember my male friends and I would sit in bars and clubs and we’d complain that all the women were fat. That’s changed, now they’re all really slim and I think  that’s down to this arms race. If a woman wants a high quality guy then she has to out compete all the other women in a way that women have never had to compete with each other before and it’s become cut throat. It’s at the point where going braless to get an edge has become a thing.





I don’t seem to care about rejection. Over the past few weeks I’ve been busy talking to women like mad and I’ve got a fair few knockbacks, as is to be expected, but recently I find that I’m waiting for a negative reaction in myself, some feeling of embarrassment or disappointment or pain and there’s none.

I’ve gone from seeing Dakota as the centre of the universe with a few other women as alternatives to seeing a universe stocked with limitless women and if one says no then I shrug my shoulders and move on to the next one. Nothing phases me anymore. If I’m talking to a woman on tinder and she isn’t making the right noises I just unmatch her. If she’s not what I want then why would I talk to her?

I’m actually starting to wonder if this isn’t a long hypomanic episode except that I don’t feel hypomanic, I feel settled and centred. I’m sleeping better too.


It’s actually quite funny at this point because I’ll be out with a female friend and I’ll be having a whine about some knuckle dragger leaving the pub with some quite hot woman and I’ll be like, “I’m obviously lower down on the pecking order than him” and my friend will be all, “Umm, well you know, not really because, uh, umm, you see it’s not like that because” and I’m like “Really? Even you won’t fuck me” and eventually it leads to, “Yeah, that total knuckle dragger is higher on the pecking order than you are”. It’s like: don’t bullshit me. Don’t ask me to believe things that I see aren’t happening. Don’t give me that crap that women like intelligent men or educated men or whatever because it’s demonstrable horseshit.

A few months back a friend of a friend was all, “Don’t worry, soon you’ll be getting laid because women at your age have gotten over the whole bad boy thing and they want someone nice like you” and I was utterly devastated. Now though I’m like, “What makes you think that I want the women that you’re talking about?”.

Like I’m totally aware that there are a shit ton of women who are single in their mid-thirties because they made really poor choices when they were in their twenties, umm, guess what? If you think that you could possibly settle for me then you can fuck off. Brass tacks, you’re at an age where you look ten years older than I do, I get told that I’m 25 all the time so why am I going to get up with some wrinkly over the hill mess that is only with me because her juvenile fantasies about civilising some bad boy have left her, best case scenario, single and wrinkly at 35, or as a single mother?

You can fuck off if you think that I’m settling for you. Especially at a period in my life where the money situation means that I can date women ten years younger than your wrinkly ass. Like, I’m used to being on my own at this point. I don’t like it, but I can hack it. I’m not desperate to be with someone anymore and so when I see your washed up, fucked loose by every “bad boy” going ass trying to make out that now you want me I’m like, “No, go try someone else”. You played the game, and you lost, have another cake to add to your 300lbs.

I see so many of my female friends hit thirty, lose a load of weight, sign up to every dating site and app going and they end  up angry as fuck because guess what? Every guy they wanted is now married and the guys that are left are the guys that they don’t want. They confused the fact that guys will fuck anything with the strange idea that they were particularly attractive and so they assumed that getting into a relationship would be easy and now they realise that they wasted a whole load of time and they’re not 25 anymore, they’re a boring and frumpy thirty something who has to be in bed by 11 for work in the morning and they’re competing with slim and trim twenty somethings who have the energy to be out all night.

Subtext addendum

Like, thinking about it, how alpha male must I look to her. She totally rejects me, ignores me for months and my reaction? Nothing. I keep coming in, I’m not pushy, I don’t follow her around the place like the neanderthal, I give her space, respect her choice, I’m still friendly with her. I haven’t moped around or been despondent or freaked out that she rejected me.

I let her come to me, I let her interact with me as little or as much as she pleases, I’m fun and I don’t push her into anything. It’s not like after the second jagerbomb I’m asking her out for a drink again. Even when she’s out drinking I don’t go and intrude on her, I just let her do her thing with her friends until she’s ready to come talk to me.



I actually think I might be winning this one. So BM is about and I’m with C. I go to the bar and I hear this voice behind me snort in laughter, “You’re not getting served!” “Even if just for a latte?” “Especially not for a latte, get out” “Oh I see, so it’s not like I can just walk in here and order whatever I want?” *ironic eyebrow raise* “No, what gave you that idea?” and then since I’m now facing her and not the barmaid she gets the barmaid to serve me.

She wanders off to do whatever it is she does and the barman is all, in a joking way, “Stop flirting, you’ve been out there for thirty minutes doing nothing but flirting” and she says, jokingly, “Don’t tell me what to do, I flirt with whoever I like”.

Now, one of the things of being thirty-four is that you made the mistake at twenty-three of jokingly telling the woman you liked not to flirt and she, jokingly, told you to fuck off and you thought that she was joking rather than softly telling you to stop being possessive. Especially when said woman knows that she’s the boss, she’s queen of her castle and either you show that you’re big enough to deal with that or she ditches you.

I find this game so much fun. Like she, in the subtext, says to me, “I rule here, I’m the dominant one, you’re on my turf and you do things by my rules, how does that make you feel?” and I’m like,  “You’re implying that this would make me, alpha male of this place, uncomfortable. I can play by your rules, my rules, anyone’s rules and I don’t care, I’m big enough to handle it” and she says, “Alright, I’ll get one of the people under me to get you a drink” which in the sub-sub-text, which is hypothetical in my theoretical framework, is sort of saying, “You pass the test, I will now be feminine and nurture you”.

Whereas the barman had a convo with her that, in the subtext, went, “I’m really uncomfortable with you flirting with that guy” “Fuck off beta male”.

Apparently she also smiled at C, just in a friendly way, which means that she’s obviously clocked on that C and I are not together, which means that I’ve got that preselection by other women box checked, women are obviously comfortable and happy around me, I therefore am obviously not a creepy guy etc.

Win, win, win.

I’m counting last night as a solid win. So my mate, SA, is going back to South Africa, at least temporarily, and so leaving drinks were in order. Cutting out the boring bits there was this girl, let’s call her Coffee and Coffee and I didn’t really talk for most of the night. I sort of talked to her about knowing one of the barmaids in this place that we were going to and how we’d flirted all night, she’d added me on FB and then ignored me since, but that was about it.

Then later I find her teared up and I ask what’s wrong and it turns out that SA and this other guy had essentially decided that everyone was going to Coffee’s flat to do drugs, which was news to me. I said that I’d have a word with him and that this wouldn’t be happening and she settled down. Eventually she went out to smoke and we ended up chatting.

This guy was hitting on her friend and failing which meant that Coffee and I got talking about how men are creepy and always hitting on her and as a woman she’s always afraid of being raped which led to me talking about how I always look out for the women in my life and how when I teach Aikido I always put that little bit more into teaching the women which led to something being said like, “To me it’s just funny because I’m just watching them fail so hard.” “It’s not funny, it’s frightening. You can afford to find it funny because you’re coming from a position of privilege” “Yeah but she can also afford to find it funny because she’s with me and I’m not going to let anything happen to her, I’m there for her”.

This is what PUAs refer to as demonstrating that you’re a “protector of women” and unwittingly I was doing this which led to a bit of touchy feeliness. Then later as we were walking to the taxi and trying to find SA, who had wandered off in search of drugs with the other guy, we ended up standing around and it was freezing and she was shivering away. If I’d have had my usual oxford shirt on I’d have given her my jacket, more on that later, but I only had on this thin cotton shirt which looks awesome but is in no way warm. So I stretched out my arms to offer her a hug and she paused for a moment and looked at me and then cuddled up. At which point I remembered that she had a boyfriend.

This is important because this produced a bit of a moral dilemma in that generally in this situation, while cuddled up, at that point where things have become physical I would usually start stroking her back gently and if she responds to that then maybe I find a bit of fluff in her hair and remove it for her and if that goes well then maybe I kiss her forehead and then after that usually there’s that “are we going to kiss” stare which usually results in kissing.

I decided not to do that because it’s rare that this physical escalation doesn’t escalate all the way into sex. Literally if I ever get into a situation with BM where we’re cuddled up I give myself a 9/10 chance that we’re ending up in bed. I realised in my mid-twenties that women will sleep with anyone they feel comfortable sleeping with, which is tautological, but it’s amazing how many guys don’t realise this so rather than trying to make women comfortable they try and impress them instead. Making women comfortable is reasonably straight forward, be comforting, be supportive, listen to her, be quiet but open in your emotions and be willing to stand your ground because if you can’t stand up to her she won’t trust you to stand up to anyone else for her. In fact largely it’s a case of following her lead. It’s a dance, not a battle.

A harder skill is understanding the subtext of a conversation at the time that you’re having it. I woke up this morning and realised that I’d inadvertently done the whole “protector of women” thing but also that the subtext of the conversation was, “I feel very uncomfortable and out of control right now” “You’re with me, everything’s okay, I’ll look after you and handle any problems”. So I’ve taken her from being nearly crying because of SA’s douchebaggery  to feeling comfortable enough to cuddle.

The good thing about this is that because I’ve not really made a move on her I’ve established myself as someone she’s comfortable around which might produce good results later.


One day Scarlett Johansson will be my wife. I aim high in life.

You know, I think that I’m quite bored with the woman situation at the moment. There was a time in my life where I just kept on coming across really confident women who could appreciate men who make really direct approaches and have functioning balls. Now, though…….. Like PUAs say that you have to go after 7’s or above because even if you genuinely like a 5 or 6 they don’t have the confidence to accept that you actually like them.

I think this is the situation with Dakota and BM. In fact I know that it’s the situation with Dakota because she told me that she doesn’t believe that I feel the way I do about her. BM though: She spends months flirting with me, blows me kisses and then ignores me after I ask her out to only then, a couple of months later, go back to flirting. I think maybe she’s cottoned on that I kind of like her and would like to know her a bit better and find out if we just like flirting with each other or there could be more.

I find dating really boring. S and C, and others, are like, “Most women aren’t used to dealing with confident men who want them” because apparently in our beta mangina age actually just asking a woman if she’d like to go for a drink or expressing, directly, an interest requires extraordinary balls. Apparently, “You know, you’re a very attractive woman” is too much for women to handle. Dakota goes bright red and stares at the floor when I tell her this, which is amazingly cute, she literally doesn’t know what to say or how to react.

The last time she sort of mumbled, “Do you really think so?”. I felt like saying, “Yes you fucking idiot. Do I need to use crayons or something?” because you know full well that she’s questioning it all in her head and I’m thinking like: How about we let me decide if I find you attractive and you not question that and then you just kind of enjoy that someone really likes you and thinks that you’re beautiful?” It’s quite annoying when a woman tells you that you don’t find her as attractive as you think you do – like you’re going to be thinking about it one day and be like, “Ooh actually, no, she’s right, I think she’s minging. How could I not have noticed that I thought she was minging?”

I think BM is the same. “I get a lot of attention but no action” and here’s me barreling in with, “Do you want to go for a drink sometime?” and she shits herself because action just happened, like someone with balls actually asked her out. She’s cute, she’s attractive, she has huge boobs, like G cups with an exceptionally favorable boob to belly ratio. I’m betting that every fucker that flirts with her actually thinks that she’s way out of their league and because of that no one ever actually asks her out and she thinks that she’s unattractive.

There’s actually this thing where exceptionally attractive women don’t get asked out because men are intimidated by them and so they think that they’re unattractive. I think it’s the same with busty women: men worry that she’ll think that they’re just after their boobs.

I just want to meet someone with enough confidence to make everything relatively uncomplicated and for there to be some positive drama, a bit of romance. Dating, as a guy, is the most boring thing in the world because mainly it involves sitting around trying to think of witty things to write and it actually rapidly reaches a point where you realise that the pay off for the effort involved is usually pretty minimal and that somehow getting fifty messages a day off of guys makes women arrogant, intolerant, angry and bitchy but not actually confident or attractive. It isn’t fun and it isn’t rewarding.