1. Sometimes you really do want to just watch True Detective and eat burritos.
You’re talking to this nice girl that seems to really have a wise-beyond-her-years grasp of Photoshop memes and so you invite her over hoping for a chill platonic evening and then — boom — she’s all trying to unbuckle your Chromexcel belt and slide your 21 oz selvedge denim to get at cyclopean love hose. #rude
2. I only have so much jizz to give.
Seriously. You out there, mashing your keyboard in a frenzy of sexual frustration, probably imagine it would be so great to be up to your ears in pussy, but I can tell you from experience it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Like, I can only bust five or six times in a day — maybe eight if I’m with a couple different girls (Coolige Effect, y’all, Google it) and then I’m all fucked out. Hell hath no fury like a woman partially boned. So yeah, sometimes I fake my orgasms. Deal with it, honey.
3. I’m a nice guy.
Really, I am. But if you’re like me: 6’2″, thin, tatted and hung like Snuffy, girls don’t even notice your #personality. It’s just “give me the dick you vigorous stallion” 24/7. It’s soooo dehumanizing. #mysoulisuphereladies
4. My friends are always bugging me to throw them my “sloppy seconds.”
Like, I totally understand when a bro is hard up to snatch and thinks I can spare my reserve, my reserve-reserve, my special blend, my rainy-day bone, my alright-for-sort-of-an-off-night-bone, my racial token bones, my nostalgia bones or any of the half a dozen other women I have sexually available at any time, but really I can’t. It’s not a greed thing. It’s that I really think you won’t like how my dick tastes.
5. Scarcity is the source of value; ergo sex has no meaning. #ennui
Like, sometimes I will add gratuitous difficulties to my sex life just to try to wring some kind of serotonin reward out of the charade. For instance, I will go out wearing a fedora or put on 3 baggy sweatshirts or act poor or something, just to make it a little more difficult to get laid. Truth is, it’s worse in the end though, because I always get the girl and then she’s all like, “He was a diamond in the rough” and they think “He’s not a player” and I become #relationshipmaterial overnight. Yuck, bros, yuck.
6. Girls aren’t that cool.
Like I don’t mean this in a mean or a sexist way, but girls just aren’t that smart or interesting or good at stuff. And if you’re fucking them all the time, it means you’re AROUND them all the time. So in those awkward in-between moments when you’re not pounding them into unexplored realms of clitoral ecstasy with the righteous cockhammer, you actually have to talk to them. And they’re always like “My feelings said this” or “I’m a real person with hopes and dreams.” Which is fine, but shut the fuck up about it, I’m trying to get past this wave of guys on Sniper Elite: Nazi Zombie Army 2.
Real talk, guys? I hate to burst your bubble, but if you fuck an average of 5 to 9 girls a week bareback, you’re gonna catch something. That’s just the cost of doing business. For the most part, I just keep a standing script of amoxicillin on hand and to be safe, just stop calling the last dozen or so chicks I boned in case they’re the dirty slut who gave it to me, but sometimes you have to have this inevitable talk where the filthy disease-ridden Jezebel is like “You gave me herpes” and you try to be fair with her and so you say “You can’t prove that, you stupid whore” and then it’s all tears and yada yada yada. I know I’m going to get spammed by you betas out there being like “Boo hoo, wear a condom” or something like that, but get real. When you have as much sex and take as many benzos as I do, there’s absolutely no way you’re going to be able to bust while wearing a thick-as-fuck weinercoat.
8. Fake lesbians.
Every swinging dick out there knows what I am talking about. In the early 2000s, finding a genuine bi chick that wanted to do a threesome was something of an achievement, like a no-wipe poo, but now it seems like I’m up to my ears in faux dykes who wanna get it on with me and one, two, three, even four of her fellow curious nubile minxes. But it’s all artifice! There’s no authenticity! When I am having a three-way, I want it to count for something, on an emotional level. But I can’t get into it if the girls are just pretending to wanna eat each other out so I will fuck them more enthusiastically. Frankly, it’s dishonest and makes me respect you less. #justsaying
9. Girls who think I’m going to pay for stuff.
Girls these days have gotten used to AFCs who will “pay for dates” or “treat them to something nice” or even “sprint for the plan B from Duane Reade.” Seriously guys, you’re ruining it for the rest of us. If you lay the pipe many, many times every week, just the cost of laundering all the skeet out of my bedclothes becomes prohibitive, so if I even accidentally buy a girl a beer via tab confusion, I’m spending hundreds a week! So ladies, if you see a tall, chiseled, charismatic dude at the bar, do him a favor and buy HIM a drink because his resources are seriously drained from having to fuck all of you as it is.
10. And the number 10 most annoying thing about being constantly fuckzoned is? Being tired all the time.
I hardly sleep! I mean sure it helps to be independently wealthy (haha jobs lul!) and have a great body without having to really try (gyms detract from my fuck schedule), but even so, I still have so many texts/nudes to respond to and such a busy social calendar BEFORE you even factor in the epic tantric fuckathons that I’m running on the women of America. I order 5-hour Energy by the pallet on Amazon, no shit.
Anyway, thanks for listening. It feels really good to get this load off my chest. But seriously, if you want a load on your chest and are a 8.5/10 or better, hit me up in the comments section.