There are times when I want to be a prick and there are times when I don’t want to be a prick.
I’ll kill anyone in the political world with just my brain and my fingertips-and I express no remorse when doing so. Actually, I enjoy it.
I like driving heartless conservatives straight into hypocritical mode because they’re not bright enough to figure out that they are exposing themselves for what (not who) they really are-especially in the age of the Trump regime, a time when disabled children laughed at and the children of the undocumented are punished for what their parents did twenty years ago.
Like I care who crosses into our border anyway! Hell! Not only did we steal this country from the Indians, but we stole half of it from Mexico, as well. So, you won’t get me fitted for any of your brown shirts and red armbands. Uh-uh, not going to happen.
And of course, it’s really fun when they throw the Bible in everyone’s face while they try to repeal Obamacare so that the insurance companies can literally make a bigger killing than they did before the imperfect system was signed into law.
However, when looking for someone to reciprocate the love I have for her, it’s worse than spending eternity in Hell. Actually, I’d rather go to Hell-the music’s better over there.
For one thing, I don’t want a woman my age. I want to father a child and I don’t really want someone who isn’t in the mood to have a seed planted in her at the age of 42, because I know that her kids are probably already grown. Not only that, I really am not interested in sharing my time with her kids.
I don’t care that her grandchild has taken its first steps while she’s giving me oral. That’s not fair to me because I wanted to get married at eighteen. I’ll unplug that phone.
Second, I didn’t get to go on those trips that younger people do on the weekend. I couldn’t leave on Friday nights to go to Las Vegas with my friends because I was stuck with Tommy, as his dad simply didn’t want to come home on Friday night. He stayed out as long as he possibly could.
One Friday night, he didn’t come home at all and didn’t show up until Saturday morning. You see, he “forgot” to call my relief.
That’s how narcissistic he was.
Now all my friends have kids of their own, so that experience has been stolen from me-and I’ll never forgive God for that.
Second, unless I get rich, it’s hard to find some nice young girl who would love a jackball like me. Most American women are all about the money, and God help you if you get hurt at work.
They stop loving you because you can’t bring home the check anymore to fuel their shopping habit. Oh, and I do have a backup plan if she’s really in it for the money-cancel the insurance and jump off the table.
Now, the reason why I want someone so much younger than myself is because the experiences would be as new for her as they would be for me. We all know that women who go with men to an exotic place think of someone else who had sex with them on that same beach. They never admit to that, but we know that’s true-because we hear another name being whispered.
Just for the sake of jumping off of a 10-story building and landing on a cactus, let’s suppose that there is a nice young woman trying to find me.
Would she be able to handle my frustration and understand that I’m not going after her when my frontal lobes go out and I pound my desk out of frustration because the computer is acting up-again?
Would she believe that I don’t mean to yell?
Would she believe that my short-term memory is for crap and that it’s usually hard for me to say what I feel because my Broca’s Area is damaged?
That’s a gamble.
I’m sure there are foreign women who know that, but feminism teaches that all men are lying scumbags. A good man simply doesn’t stand a chance, so he has to risk his health by being an asshole around the clock.
Women admit that they view nice guys are weak, but there is propaganda out there which tells women that nice guys are actually dangerous.
Here’s another one! Heben Nigatu wrote this lie entitled 13 Reasons Why Nice Guys Are The Worst.
So, guys like me lose either way; we might as well be assholes.
Now, add traumatic brain injury into this mix, and guys like me are better off dead.
I’ve pretty much given up on Americans. All they do is steal and cheat. The funny part comes when they ask if you’re gay because you’re not married, so we can’t win.
Guys, we should get foreign girls and be husbands from the 1950s. It’s probably going to be our only hope.