Dear Cunt, I’m Going To Clear Your Plate

Dear Guest,

Classes. Something basic, yet complicated in its definition is what we deal with on a day to day, moment to moment basis in many an aspect of our existence.

One goes to a bar. He spies a beautiful woman, yet shies away from approaching her either for fear of rejectment or acknowledgement of his own inadequacies.

Or what he thinks are his own inadequacies.

In reality, what’s happening is he perceives himself to be a part of a specific group of people; a people that is unable to mix, mingle or be a part of any aspect of the subject of his adoration, interest or focus.

The fear of rejection is but a by product of the inner workings of his mind. Because he believes himself to be but a cog in the current events of his community, his surroundings and that of the general society, as opposed to an active, contributing part of a vibrant, successful and kind circle of supporters, he therefore lacks the self confidence to simply say hello to a beautiful woman.

Nail an audition.

Introduce himself to the CEO and prove himself to be worthy of that 150k a year salary.

You see, the moment one looks at life like an opportunity to prove, rather than explore and be stimulated by his surroundings, as Harold Guskin speaks of so eloquently about the actor’s audition process, he’s indeed simply a cog, a piece in the puzzle, as opposed to an advisor to the king.

The difference between the two, while very much a reality, began not as an issue of capability, but of inner self worth. The cog decided he must simply turn, move the wheel that moves the other wheel, while the advisor realized he was smarter than the king, and can better make the cog work.

Being in one class or another may be defined by the world at large. Working class – blue collar and white collar, millionaire, billionaire, immigrant. Personally I very much am aware of the difference between various peoples in society. Mexicans clean the tables in the pizza shop, models from Ukraine sell you jewelry and promote Vodka brands,  blacks steal that same jewelry, blonde bimbos find millionaire husbands and host charity events, get plastic surgery and send their bratty children to prep schools, and Jews control most of the above.

But I’m also aware that what I just mentioned is but a stereotype, a mere perception of the races, a division of the classes partly judged by the vocal minority of its disruptive, beautiful, or dumb individuals, and partially judged BY those individuals.

We’re all people. I may be serving you, I may have made your martini (you wanted it dry, shaken not stirred) but I sure as hell don’t feel like the image that comes to mind regarding servers, bartenders, housemaids or however else society deems it appropriate I view myself.

You may regard me with a certain air of superiority, intelligence or raw disdain.

Just know that I don’t care.

And if I did, I’d pity you.

Sincerely,
Your server

Guys Like Us Are the Most Honest Men Around

I came far in the past year in my own game. Went from a fuck or 2 a year, to what should be shaping up to 3 girls a month. Alot of my friends, even those who encouraged me to “get out there more, fuck around some more” now think I’m crazy. Especially those in relationships.

Whenever I develop feelings for a girl, almost immediately I develop feelings of being constricted and locked down. So that’s how I know I’m not “ready for a relationship” – as if it’s something to aspire to – and that’s how I am (slowly) learning to avoid feelings in the 1st place.

They call us perv’s. Perverts? US??? We’re just the most honest men on the planet really. Most guys settle down, because they are doing exactly that. SETTLING. DOWN. Settling for less, because they’re too cowardly to admit that all they want is pussy, or too scared to go out and get it.

“Until you’ve experienced love you’re just an immature guy in your 20’s running around chasing women”, they say. Yes Mr. Relationship, let’s talk again after the bitch who’s “loyal” cheats on you. Besides, who chases women? That’s where they go all wrong. As Roosh always says “Don’t put the pussy on the Pedestal.” I think I’ll take a naked poster of Mila Kunis, write that phrase across her tits and hang it above my bed. It’s where I’ll continue to mark my notches.

Fucking one girl may make you feel loved and wanted. Fucking many girls will make you feel like a man who can fend for himself.

Sure, we have to lie sometimes about our intentions to get the fuck, keep her around etc. But at least we aren’t lying to ourselves, and aren’t dishonest to women about the very thing they need. They do need to feel loved and wanted, and little do they know the men they’re with secretly just want more pussy, and they’re the easy way out of having to chase it. Even when the guy in a relationship is an Alpha male, and she is super hot, chances are he’s with her ONLY because of the pussy, not because he’s in love or anything like that. But in that case, being in a relationship is perhaps to be commended.

Bottom line, we may lie, but at least we are true to ourselves. Happy hunting.

PS: In the name of full disclosure, I don’t know if Mila’s ever posed naked. For a camera that is.

Go Climb Back Into Your Mousehole

“Love is cuddly, and so fuckable.” – livingnowalways

I’ve got this friend on Facebook. She’s 24, always manages to have money from family, etc. She’s not at all a slut, as I know she’s only been with maybe one or two guys. But her statuses consist of things like “Dude, if I turn my back on you, I’m NOT INTERESTED.”, or “partying it up at XYZ Club with my bad biotchhhhhhesssss [insert dumb slutty names here.] We the baddest bitch in town!” Followed by “Where is the man who will sweep me off my feet? <3”

Dear _____,

You’re 24. (25?) You used to never sleep around, because you had a crazy psycho ax murderer for a boyfriend. You broke up with him and you’re still alive. My congratulations. Now you’re the hottest shit in town. I understand, that although this is a big city, there must be a need inside that psycho head of yours to feel self important. Go ahead, put on make-up, look slutty for us. Or stay home and stop abusing your already worn and torn body. And make me a sandwich.

When you go to a club, you’re in OUR TERRITORY. We’re the hunters, and you’re the poor fucking hunted doe. Want a head start?

Sure babe, that’s what we call betas. Betas are your head start. Their weak, pathetic attempts at currying favor with you makes you feel powerful, sexy, even invincible perhaps? Alpha males won’t look at you. Because although perhaps you’re hot, the bitchiness you walk around with makes you  look like a deer caught in the headlights.

So go climb back down your mousehole. Maybe you can gaze out at thew world from the tiny, mildewy mousehole that is your life.

With much love and a sincere desire to fuck the living shit out of you,

-livingnowalways

“The need for security stems from being insecure. Or perhaps insecurity is the lack of security. Which one goes first and what risks will you take? Obvious, but brilliant.” – livingnowalways (pats self on back)