Heheheheh…today I earned a great honor. The infamous DC area blogger Roissy told me to shoot myself in the head because I had the gaul to say that any self disrespecting gold digger with stars in her eyes would consider him a step down from Anthony Kiedis (or any other “rock star”).
Yeah, I even avoided pointing out that the actual style of music Red Hot Chili Peppers performs is funk.
Again, I inadvertently hit one of the bBN (beta by nature, not accident of social hierarchy) landmines. I’m so unused to dealing with them that I forget sometimes that even when claiming to be living banners of brutal honesty, that is restricted to honesty that doesn’t remind them that dominance is a martial art. Nobody gives a crap what color your belt is except the kids in your class. On the street, there are no mats to break your fall.
…and now he’ll have one less person willing to tell him the truth about how loving women who aren’t gold diggers or harpies view these things. Actually though, he’s not losing much since he claims there’s no danger of him reproducing or committing (to making anyone’s life a misery). So long as he doesn’t ever change his mind about that, people like me could all shoot ourselves for all the good we can do him.
My little social experiment though, is over. I believe I’ve gathered enough evidence to confirm my theories, culminating in the delicious revelation of the true face of the jerk: death.
This will be helpful to women who wish to avoid them…which means it’ll be useless to most women, but valuable to the fewer but strong contigent of women who don’t want to end up resented, told to go shoot ourselves, or have things done to us that a guy would plausibly hope would cause that.
We’re supposed to give them what they want, be that actual sex or an ego boost, or die and get out of their way. Such is the nature of the bBN…incapable of raising their view above mediocrity and their precious comfort. Suffering is always bad, from the big kind that comes from being responsible for a family, to the small kind that comes from hearing something you don’t want to hear. Those who make them suffer in any way must die, or at least play dead or nonexistent for their convenience.
I would shoot myself if I was that much of a punk. Alas, I’m not, so as other insults, I have to take this one on the chin as mild collateral damages. I kind of asked for it by being too honest.
What my real life readers may find funny is that Roissy has also called me a delusional liar, saying that none of this ever happened:
…and especially none of this:
So I don’t particularly give half a crap what he thinks. This is to the commenters who might be tempted to take advice on how to install a hard drive from a person who can barely find the power switch.
Real experts on love have been in love, and seen love happen to people who do and don’t deserve it. It’s a force of nature, and the reason humans aren’t born walking and talking already.
But…no more playing the violin for cows for me.