Men are Sluts

Did you know, every two weeks, one man can produce enough sperm to impregnate every woman on earth?  Given this biological fact, it’s no wonder single, straight men are driven to try to bed as many women as they possibly can.  There’s this bias among men and women alike that women are hormonal crazies that are totally preoccupied with the sound of their own biological clock. If women wear a short skirt, too much make up, try to lose weight or wear ‘slutty’ clothing, this bias seems to be further reinforced.

I think it is actually the men that are the hormonal crazies.  Men are way more driven by their hormones than women are. In fact, it’s only a handful of women that are afflicted with hormonal problems and those problems are diagnosable and treatable.  Except of course, when their partner is an asshole, (refer previous post for explanation of asshole). Unfortunately, there is currently no treatment available that can stop a woman from flipping out at an asshole.

I’ve actually experienced firsthand a single man’s oblivion to his hormonal impulses. After breaking up with and getting over the ‘significant ex’, I thought I would try out some dating sites. I googled “best dating sites in NZ” and NZ Dating came up as the most popular. At that time (before my singledom had really set in), I was a considerate and kind person, so I didn’t want to hurt anyone or give them the impression I was ready for marriage and kids right now. In order to portray a true representation of myself, I set up my profile as “looking for friendship”. I felt this was a good option to choose because I envisioned meeting nice men and possibly starting a relationship if our friendship developed in that direction.  Given the other options were blatantly: “I’m looking for sex only” or “I’m looking for a relationship” or “I’m ready to have children soon”.  I thought my choice was quite clear that I was looking for friendship.

It was good fun getting back into the ‘game’ and I could do this all from the comfort of my home. I didn’t have to make the effort of getting dressed up and going out only to wake up with a hangover and some stupid idiot texting me wanting to know if I was still keen to go tramping with him for two weeks next month. Don’t men wake up and realise they were talking shit all night?  I do.

Anyway, one night while happily sipping wine next to the fire in my pyjamas, I was reading the hundreds of messages in my inbox one by one. I liked to read the messages but I very rarely replied (you’ll understand why when you read on). The messages would cover a wide range of personality, some would just send a smiley face, some would have a pre-written message that was obviously cut and pasted into the message, and there were literally hundreds of ‘appendage’ photos attached to their messages.

Of these very very entertaining messages, I opened a message from ‘thelovedoctor’. I opened the message to find his profile picture was a photo of his erect appendage. Now, it’s important that you understand, profile pictures on NZ Dating are public and everyone can see this picture when they are conducting a search. It can even be seen by people that haven’t signed up to the site yet (you only have to sign up if you want to send and receive messages).

Thelovedoctor’s email message was really polite and down to earth, which was a huge contrast to his profile picture. He was all “hey, nice profile. I like going tramping too. I also like long walks on the beach and I have 50/50 care of my two delightful daughters.

So I’m thinking: “what the…..?” and as I’m scrolling down to the end of the message, more confusion was added to this contrast – he’s only gone and attached a photo of his face!  I ask you: who writes a message, to someone looking for friendship, with an appendage photo for their profile picture and deliberately attaches a photo of their face?  Oh and did I mention that I had set up my profile as totally anonymous? He didn’t know who he was even messaging.  What….a….fucking….tool.

Well, that’s not actually the shocking part! Although I was already fully shocked at this early stage of the message reading process, to my further shock (who knew being ‘further shocked’ after already being fully shocked was possible?), this person was a Manager and colleague at my workplace. Whenever I was in a meeting with him, or walk past him in the hallway, I would just stare at him curiously with squinted eyes. As we’d be walking past each other, I would stop and watch him walk towards me, then I’d turn my whole body as he walked past me and proceed to watch him until he’d walk out of my sight. If anyone spoke to me during our meetings, I would turn my head towards that person but my eyes would never leave Thelovedoctor’s face.  I was totally mesmerised by Thelovedoctor’s double life.

So yeah, that was pretty weird. However, I now understand that Thelovedoctor didn’t know what he was doing, he did what he did because he is a slave to his hormones. It’s a man’s job to impregnate as many women as possible for the survival of the human race and it is the woman’s job to look as attractive as possible for the survival of the human race (so men will want to impregnate them). We’re either all sluts or none of us are sluts – you choose. If we didn’t behave/dress the way we do, the human race would die out. End of.

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Men are Assholes

The longest relationship I have had was 6.5 years. He was a loud mouthed rugby head and was loads of fun.  We met through a mutual friend and would party together every weekend.  After about three months of friendship we went on our first date and after six months, we moved in together.

This man, who I call my ‘significant ex’, had me hooked on him and therefore knew he could reveal his real asshole self with no significant repercussions.  I would be innocently watching TV, reading a book, eating dinner or just doing any activity that put my face approximately at ass level. My significant ex would walk past me all preoccupied and innocent looking.  Just at the right moment he’d tip his ass towards my face and would let rip a massive fart square in my face.  It would literally make my hair blow in his wind.  It would happen so quickly and unexpectedly, there was never anything I could do, except completely ignore the occurrence as if I didn’t notice a thing.

After about a year of enduring this behaviour, ‘The Day of Glory’ happened upon me… Now, listen closely ladies – What I am saying is that I have the answer on how to stop this behaviour.  I know, I know, I know – you think it’s impossible. You’ve tried crying and saying how much it upsets you.  You’ve tried yelling and saying you’ll leave.  You’ve even tried leaving, haven’t you?  These tactics don’t work.  At the end of the day, it’s funny as hell – to him, to his friends, and to your friends.  If you leave, you’ll just be single and isolated.  When you try to talk to your friends about how much of an asshole your man was, and you think you deserve better than him, they will just nod sympathetically and wish you luck in finding a ‘decent man’.

The Day of Glory came when my significant ex and I were living in Melbourne.  We were play fighting on our bed.  He was lying on his back and being all tickly and playful.  I slid on top of him and was being all cute and tickly back. After pretending to kiss him and then playfully pulling away, I swung around so his head was level with my ass – this was a very valuable position to be in.  To his detriment, he had forgotten his own ‘ass/head’ rule.  This was the first time since we met, that I had ever been able to have the ‘ass/head’ power.

He was shaking his head side to side and growling like a little puppy. I did a little wiggle back which made him open his mouth and growl louder, as though he was a puppy wanting to play tug of war.  It was at this very moment that I filled hot air, straight from the inside of my butter chicken filled intestine, into his mouth, nostrils and down his throat.  The shock of the situation and the weight of my body meant he was pinned down for a good 10 seconds before his arms and legs started flailing.

He never farted in my face again.

I believe the reason men dutch oven, waft, fart in faces and wind the window up after farting in the car, is because they themselves really like the smell.  They want their loved ones to be a part of their happy memory making. They want everyone to sit amongst the glorious stench, breath it in and make comments on it.

I think this noteworthy phenomenon is due to survival behaviours straight out of the Stone Age.  When men were out hunting, they would be in groups and they would cover their entire bodies with mammoth shit to hide their odour from the prey they were hunting.  All they did all day was wait for hours with their mates.  Once their pray walked into their trap, they would jump from their hiding place and make their kill. Killing the animal would take a matter of minutes

On returning to their cave, their women would see them walking in from the horizon with a massive sabre toothed lion slung over their shoulders. The women would be so very excited of this sight as it meant they wouldn’t be getting clubbed over the head and wake up pregnant.  The women were exhausted from gathering, tending to the children, making the fire, cooking food, making clothes, tools and housing structures, and performing surgery on their birthing women and elderly men. Even so, they would rush towards the men with arms out wide.  They would tell them they are so strong and brave and oooh you smell like a real man!  Come to my hearth and lay with me by the fire.

Happiest day of a man’s life: sitting around all day with their mates, smelling like shit, killing an animal, coming home to a cave all warm and comfortable and then getting laid.

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Why I’m Single – It’s not me, it’s you.

Several men have asked me, in the last five years, “why are you single?” They say it with lust and longing in their eyes and it usually comes with a ‘compliment’ like “you’re so hot”.  I smile back sweetly and say that I don’t know why.   What I would actually like to say is: “dude… your’re a fine example.  You’re salivating, I earn more than you and the things you say about your girlfriend/women makes me want to vomit.

I have started this blog because I have been single for five years.  I have had some entertaining, heartbreaking and valuable learning experiences that I think is well worth sharing, plus it gives me something to do on my dateless Saturday nights.

At times, I may come across as bitter, I may offend your sense of idealality (this is a word I made up, it’s pretty much the opposite of reality). If this happens, I urge you to comment, argue and express your views unapologetically – I am a rare breed that does not get offended easily by others’ views, in fact you most likely will be apart of my personal growth. Just no personal attacks please (unless it is warranted )

I’m starting with my first love, Indy. He was such a kind soul, and in this relationship, I was the dick – not him. This is the one and only blog that the man will not get full and total blame.

Indy was a Gothic when I met him, we were flatmates and connected immediately.  I loved him deeply and he always did anything for me, including facing up to the barriers I created through being unwell.

I bumped into him on the Wellington waterfront a couple of weeks ago, he hasn’t changed except for having two beautiful children , that he loves.

Tune in for a weekly, entertaining blog on a single woman’s dating ups and downs.

xo

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