Don't Trust Women!

I absolutely do not trust women. After being re-released into the wild last year I needed to remember how to get back in the game. I decided it was simple. Go to a bar, have a few drinks, meet a woman, lie to her, have plenty of emotionless sex and go home the following morning. While this seems like a suitable temporary replacement for the need to get your rocks off, it tends to not be that easy, which results in my distaste and unfortunate dislike of the female sex.

One of the beauties of being a man, is we know we have many years left of being appealing to women. After a certain age women will begin to plummet, while our stock will continue to rise. Women call men disgusting for sleeping with much younger females rather than woman around our own age. This is because no younger men want to sleep with older aging women who are living on borrowed time!

Last year I met a very sexy 29 year old (this one was ACTUALLY 29) at an upper scale bar in Philadelphia. She took me back to her place where things escalated quickly, when she asked me, "do you have a condom?" No, I most certainly did not! Earlier in the evening I learned she was an attorney, and after seeing her place I was quite impressed. She definitely seemed like the type of girl who would go pick up her morning after pill or get an abortion. So did I really need to be bothered with her question?

She told me to go into her drawer where there was an unopened box. Simple enough; until I opened the box and read MAGNUM! "What the fuck do you expect me to do with this?!" I laughed. She said, "those were my ex-boyfriends. Just use them, hurry up!" Well, here goes nothing and she was right. We went alll night as I proved to her I had much to offer her.

Aside from stamina, I offered her a feeling of worth. A feeling that maybe she still had a few good years left and she can still hold onto her youth a tad longer and oh right of course, multiple orgasms ( I joke!)? Aside from that I was another name, another number. And to me she was another name, another number, and another story.

7:30 AM the clock read and the sun was piercing through the window of her bedroom. I was officially awake and there was only one thing to do. Get out of bed, get dressed fast and make as little noise as possible. Caught in the act! She woke up, walked me out, and we kissed goodbye and not another word was spoken. Not a see you soon, no exchange of information.

By 7:40 AM I was outside on the streets of Philadelphia. During that early morning I took a proud stroll to 8th and Market. I smelled the cool morning air, took my black pin-stripped blazer and tossed it over my shoulder, walked down the stairs of the Gallery to catch the R5 to Manyunk. I stopped by a trashcan on the corner before entering the Gallery; I stuck my fingers in my throat and projectile vomited to rid myself of the poison I consumed only a few hours earlier. As I have experienced many times before, it is far better to do this in a trashcan, than on a train or in a cab on the way home. I walked up to a guard in the Gallery and asked him, “Sir, when is the next train leaving for Manyunk?”
“Not until 9:45 AM,” he told me.

What the fuck am I going to do sitting hung-over, hating life, in a train station for the next two hours? It was a simple decision. I walked back up the stairs dragging one foot after the other. If I had been at home my head would be inside a toilet. I jumped in the first taxi to drive by and he drove $45 to my car. Last night had now cost me $40 for drinks, $45 for parking, and who knows what in hospital bills when I get tested the following day. What will it cost her? Who knows, probably an abortion.

This had me thinking, what kind of woman goes to a bar on a Saturday night and has wildly promiscuous, unprotected (at times) sex with a complete stranger. How many women do this? Are all women whores and this only calls into question the most debated issue of our time. Why is there a double-standard? Why can I have this wild sex and be praised and a woman does it and I think ill of her? I think of her as absolutely vile and this is exactly why I will never be able to fall in love or trust a woman again!

How do I know my future wife was not once a woman like this? And if she were how I could ever look past it as if it did not matter to me what she did before we met.
I know I am supposed to love a woman for who she is and how she makes me feel, but in realty, I will look at her and think of everything I did to women and resent her. I will think of every time I treated a woman like a “whore” and I know that one day, last nights girl will be someone’s wife, but last night, she was my whore! Please never let me have a daughter! (I will definitely have 3)

There are only three solutions I can think of to fix this problem and cure myself of my hatred of women.

1: Date a virgin. A virgin has never been anyone’s whore, but there is one major flaw with dating a virgin. She has NO previous experience. Sure you can teach her and she will one day be everything you ever wanted, but in the end what if she gets that curious itch to see what sleeping with another fellow is like? This brings me back to why I cannot trust women and therefore nixes solution one.

2: I have considered a scenario when I reach my mid to upper 20’s where I will date a few women. Nothing too serious and they can NEVER refer to themselves as my girlfriend. Titles are trouble. This way I can sleep with as many women as I want and when the time comes that I could get the unlikely itch to get married, I won’t have to worry if they had been cheating because they were never my girlfriends. This will allow me to skip to the wife stage and everyone knows that you cannot trust a girlfriend, but a wife on the other hand I think I could trust.

3: DON’T EVER GET MARRIED! WOMEN CANNOT BE TRUSTED!