This scorched-id ashvomit from a bitter, unattractive androgyne is representative of a lot of spoiled word salad written by emotionally shattered Millennials. It’s featured on the hallowed screen of the Chateau because it encapsulates just about every psychological disorder afflicting the inhabitants of the currently operative mating market.
See if you can spot the try-hard misappropriation of Heartistian ideas in her snarkbark.
My Tinder match decisions had grown more rapid and decisive. Handsome but no bio and all shirtless gym selfies? Dick is abundant and low value. Lists only an Instagram as a bio? Dick is abundant and low value. Quotes Jack Kerouac’s “The only ones for me are the mad ones…” Dick is abundant and low value. Went to Burning Man…twice? Dick is abundant and low value. Member of an improv troop? Dick is abundant and low value.
Technically, she’s right. Dick is abundant (aka sperm is cheap) and, therefore, low value. But if she were to finish her thought — she wouldn’t dare — she’d have to admit that high value dick is scarce, in fact scarcer than is high value pussy, and that her real problem is getting too much attention from loser men and not enough attention from the winner men she wants who aren’t desperate enough to momentarily flatter her self-conception as part of a low investment strategy for an easy lay with a rancid skank.
Dick is abundant and low value. I had gotten my new motto amidst the worst break-up of my life.
Break-ups are especially hard on women when they are the ones getting dumped. Women in their sexual prime are rarely cast off outright. Usually, when a man tires of his girlfriend, he strings her along and starts to check out while keeping his eye open for new possibilities. A man would have to be completely fed up with his girl to dump her cold before having another plate in his cabinet.
Shaken to my core by the degrading insults my ex had hurled at me but also mourning the permanent departure of some poetically good dick,
A frequent semantic ploy of Millennial chicks is their straining to ape the sexual prerogatives inherent to men, or their claiming to do so to an audience of like-minded bitterbitches cheering them on. The urban warrioress wants the world to know she has the sexual appetite of the most promiscuous men, because it infuses her with a false sense of power in the face of personal crisis.
I was spending a day mindlessly refreshing Twitter and reading up on how to spot sociopaths.
Dead giveaway she loves her some sociopath schwing.
Send an unsolicited photo of your lower body in your laundry-day underwear with your hand suggestively but not sexily placed over your semi and not even bothering to crop out your poor cat? Dick is abundant and low value.
If you look weird and have an unfeminine personality, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that the kinds of men contacting you are also weirdos with a poor grasp of of the concept of selling themselves.
Some will read my gleeful rejections on the many faces I encounter on Tinder as evidence of a disturbing uptick in malevolent, anti-male sentiments among single straight women. It is not. It is evidence of us arriving nearer to gender equilibrium where men can no longer happily judge the clear and abundant photos and carefully crafted profiles of women but become incensed when they take the opportunity to do the same.
This paragraph doesn’t make any sense. How does she reject on Tinder faces? With a vigorous clit flick? And how can men no longer judge the clear and abundant online dating photos of women? Are men blind, or just the men who contact her?
It was not always thus.
Painfully bad writing. If it weren’t for the internet, what would all these feminist Austen-wannabes do with their time?
I hoped that the obvious would become clear and that he’d do what I would do when faced with rejection: slink away to a remote cave and hope to find a sudden and merciful death. Instead, he flooded both my email and Facebook page with accusations of egregious superficiality and a sudden change of heart regarding my own attractiveness.
Note the subtle attractiveness-affirming humblebrag. Typical self-contradicting feminist. “I reject your patriarchal beauty standards, forthwith and egregiously. But not before I mention this one guy I rejected who acted like I wasn’t cute when it was so clear to both of us that he did think I was cute when he thought he had a chance.”
And, for all its faults, I still find Tinder delightful. […] No one can address me without my consent, which I can withdraw with an unceremonious “Unmatch” at any time. […] It is a special joy to left-swipe such profiles back into the bowels of Hades from whence they came.
Woman with low SMV imagines that a technology particularly suited to the insta-courtship, low investment preference of fly-by-night men is somehow a blow for female sexual empowerment.
When Tinder matches occurred, these men stormed into our messages with all the social grace of Steve fucking Urkel but none of his endearing sincerity with appeals like, “Sexy dress. Hook up?”
Men give women what they think women deserve. If you look like a good-to-go slut and you have a Tinder profile, most men will think you deserve little more than a dick pic.
They wore jerseys for teams that suck.
She’s got to pare down her 463-bullet point checklist by at least 462 bullet points.
And almost every last goddamn one of them found their whiskey habit absolutely fascinating.
Fascinating enough that she remembered them and wrote about them.
When these tactics repeatedly failed them,
Did the tactics fail them? This chick seems to have no comprehension of the appeal to men of the low investment, mass mailing seduction strategy. If 1 out of 100 drive-by “hey baby” Tinder come-ons work, that’s a roaring success considering the few seconds of effort it requires to put the plan in motion.
It would be sad that they inadvertently admitted that they actually just have no game if there wasn’t such a spiteful sense of entitlement in such sentiments.
Chicks dig entitled men.
Bless their blue-balled little hearts.
Alert: Unloved harridan enjoys visualizing herself in the role of temptress heartbreaker.
Meanwhile, a substantial number of other men guessed that women using Tinder might enjoy wild romantic gestures like using punctuation in sentences instead of winky faces, or asking which trains we lived off of to pick mutually convenient meeting places, or bringing their own condoms because safety is everyone’s responsibility. These men who care more about women’s realities than their own fantasies are the ones who still actually get laid on Tinder.
She’s yet to form a lasting bond with this kind of man. Mysteries of the universe.
While some women only use Tinder to seek long-term relationships, the
assertion truth is that many of us are actively trying to find no-strings attached sex and even more are at least open to the possibility of it on an initial meeting.
Slut wants NSA sex, shocked to discover men who want same thing aren’t Prince Charming.
It is understandably non-negotiable for many women that this meeting take place in public because the law does not look kindly on us if we are assaulted after showing up at a new man’s home nor is it any kinder to women who welcome new men into theirs.
I am one of many women who has upgraded these initial encounters into sex and have grow increasingly skilled at selecting for only the most exceptional sex with every swipe.
David Fatrelle smiled knowingly.
One guy was 20 minutes late to our museum date and it turned out it was actually closed so we went to Ikea for our date instead. Ikea where love goes to die! Ikea. I carried his clunky-ass light fixtures across an industrial part of town in August heat wearing skinny jeans and still let him see me naked that day.
Well, that’s the kind of thing desperate LSMV women who love entitled jerks do.
I halfway had sex with an investment banker who insisted on bringing his shitty little dog into my pristine cat’s lair.
What you are witnessing is the raw, uncensored id of a loveless and unloveable shrike having a mental breakdown online as she recollects with exquisite detail and simmering rage all the badboys who dumped her after they squared away a few jackhammer sessions with her shredded snatch before moving on to less crazy pastures.
The truth is,
Autonomic female verbal tic meaning “the truth is not”.
sluts like me are everywhere on Tinder but we aren’t impressed by men who are positively beleaguered by the prospect of having to put effort into getting laid,
Funny, if you aren’t impressed by these men, why did you fuck so many of them that you were able to recall and write up a compendium of them as part of your mental health rehabilitation?
nor do we like it when they mock the boundaries of our girlfriends who want to use Tinder only for traditional dating.
Strange non sequitur. I’ll leave it as a challenge for the readers to parse its hidden meaning. My guess: She’s been used a few too many times by men as a pivot to score with her hotter girl friends.
But I’ve found enough value on Tinder to keep going, swiping and unmatching bad profiles out of my life at the first sign of unreasonable expectations.
Power Swiper. With any luck, Tinder will still be around when she’s really old (and not just old-looking), and she can assuage her butthurt spinsterhood by swiping away randos who love her as much as they love the other 100,000 Tinder ladies they’ve gallantly wooed.
Their corner of Tinder is a dark place, dense with hapless souls who didn’t realize that the centuries-long period of dick overvaluation is over.
Yet there she is, in the dark place with these hapless souls. So that makes her…?
The writer — and I use the term loosely — of this soul-scarred confessional is Alana Massey. You can follow her on Twatter here.
Esteemed winner of the CH Attention Whore of the Month award:
29-year old Millennial, or 50-year-old meth addict? If she’s the slut she says she is, she’s a great PSA for women to lay off the cock carousel.
(My shiv needs sharpening after this carving.)
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