In continuing with my help the ladies out mode, due to recent events, I thought I’d write a post about what to do when you figured out that the guy you hooked up with is a player, pickup artist, seducer of many women and a man about town. You know how it goes, you meet this incredibly charming nice guy who says all the right things. He makes you laugh, teases you a little, seems interesting. After a couple of drinks it’s obvious that there is a connection between the both of you. After knowing this guy for less than four hours you decide it’s a good idea to take him home and let him “beat it up like a champ”.
Of course you never ever do things like having a one night stand but after telling a group of friends you find out that the guy you hooked up with has a reputation for seducing women into bed often in the same night! A sudden wave of panic and shock comes over you as you realize that you’ve just got got.
It’s like Bruce Willis at the end of Sixth Sense, It’s like the end of Book of Eli when the major plot twist is revealed. It’s like when Ray J finds out that “Luscious, she smashed the homie” just like Danger smashed the homie in season 1. It’s like me watching the end of the movie Doubt,
Meryl Streep: (on park bench in Garden), Oh Sister James, I don’t know for sure if Father Brendan actually infiltrated that young boy’s bum hole…. I have so much… DOUBT! Roll Credits
VK: Are you fucking kidding me, that’s it! Awww hell no!
At this moment you feel ashamed, taken advantage of, vulnerable, and if the sex was done right even a little dirty. But this is exactly the time you need to keep your head and not do anything dare I say… “crazy”. Take a few minutes to realize some things.
First many women today and through out history have got got now and then by players. Women way better than you. Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, Jennifer Aniston, Hillary Clinton and even Mother Teresa back in the day. Hell even I eat a dick sandwich from a girl once or twice a year. It happens to everybody. One time I was on the fourth date with this girl I was working on, FOURTH. At a nice little restaurant we’re having a great time and that’s when she decides to tell me she’s just wants to be friends… after she ordered the lobster. YOINK! So again you are not alone, everybody plays the fool.
Another thing to consider is with all things being equal would you have hooked up with the guy anyway? When you think about it all a player/PUA did was pick up on the subtle signs you were giving out that you wanted to be picked up. Got that? Nothing more nothing less. Let’s be honest if another guy came along that was attractive and kept his mouth shut, you probably would have gone home with that guy too. Bottom line you wanted to get banged the PUA banged you, it’s all pretty simple when you think about it.
This leads to my third point, don’t try to justify the bang. After hooking up with a player many women will try to tell themselves and their friends reasons to why the hook up happened. I was in a vulnerable place emotionally, my cat just died, I was bored, I was on ecstasy, he tricked me into thinking he was a nice guy, alcohol aka The Jamie Foxx excuse. Before you found out he was gamer you thought he was ok and the hook up with him. After, all of a sudden he “tricked” you or there was some crazy circumstance that was behind the two of you hooking up?
Finally, the last ditch effort of any scorned female who hooks up with a player will be to discredit his sexual performance and more specifically talk shit about the size of his dick. I understand that this is some weird female self defense mechanism and it’s something girls do to feel better about themselves. But publically even in the company of each other it’s become cliché. If truth be told most of you girls wouldn’t know a big dick if it literally smacked you in the face. If we’re talking about people and not sex toys some girls run their mouths like they only sleep with NBA players. Some girls use the small dick line so much one must wonder if it’s a small dick problem or a really big vagina problem. And by now it’s become common knowledge that if you’ve hooked up with this guy more than once or in the morning after the first hook, this claim is automatically discredited. What did you think his dick would get bigger than the last time or he was holding out secret moves on you he didn’t do the first time?
Like I said this happens to everybody, no exception to the rules. Guys date girls that seem nice and then you find out that she smashed half the homies. Girls meet nice guys and find out that he’s a player known for running tight game. Nothing either side can do to erase the fact that you both hooked up and made a quick connection. When it’s over bitch to your small close friends but then get over it and move on. Obsessing over the why’s and how’s of the matter does nothing. Trying to stalk and talk shit about the guy results in the blow back of, “yeah, but you’re the one who fucked him, so what does that say about you”.
If there’s one thing you learn from this post let it be this…..
This bun season I’ve had more comeback girls hit me up from out of the blue than ever, seven. Some of these girls just faded to black other I completely blew it with, but with each of them I just erased the number and moved on to the next one. For whatever reason the girls kept my phone number this whole time and decided to hit me up now. Like approaching guys to pick them up most girls are also pretty bad at performing the act of the comeback. Maybe it’s because they’re not used to those slow down periods where they’re forced to think about the “maybes” that got away.
Besides the, “Hey remember me”, “hope all is well”, three out of the seven girls have also texted, “Do you hate me”. Are you serious? Clearly most girls don’t really understand the art of the weasel back. So instead of making fun and pointing out the obvious, this time I’ll try to give some advice and help out the ladies. Cause I’m nice like that.
“Hey remember me”
If you’ve made it clear you’re not going to let a guy “beat it up” and the guy has made it clear that he’s not going to be some beta who hangs out with you because he has nothing better to do, then the normal thing a guy will do is delete your number. So no, we don’t remember you. Don’t put us in an awkward position of trying to remember who the hell you are by playing some weird guessing game. If you’re the one who faded out or stopped returning calls then your first text should include your name, where you guys first met and when.
Guys: my automatic go to answer to this question is always, “I just got a new phone and don’t have all my contacts”
“Hope all is well”
What is this a Hallmark card over text? This one always comes off slightly as a condescending statement, like after you brushed the guy off and his life went to hell. At the same time though this is also a transition segment into the “what have you been up to text”. This by far is the dumbest part out of the comeback girl play book. No guy is really trying to explain what’s been going on in their lives for the past couple of months. We do understand that this is also the weird way you’re trying to find out if we’re in a relationship, dating someone else or not.
You’ve reached out, we know you’re obviously still interested because you haven’t erased our phone number after months to even a year. Woman up and say something along the lines of, “hey it’s been a while, you want to grab some drinks and catch up”. Don’t waste time testing the waters to see if the sparks are still there over text message.
“Do you hate me”
WTF? This by far is the most perplexing question from comeback girls? To be fair though the ones who’ve sent this text are the ones that things didn’t end so well with. But for a guy to really hate a girl who dated/ banged for a couple of weeks months later after the line went cold would mean the guy still has feeling for the girl or actually cared to begin with. A real man has way too much going on to actually hate a girl who’s number isn’t even in his phone. This statement does nothing but remind a guy that you did do him dirty and might bring up those feelings. More than anything else though the girl comes of looking needy and sad. I wonder how a girl would respond if a guy who pumped and dumped her texted her five months later asking if she hated him.
Some other things comeback girls should know is if a catch up date is established, don’t front. We really don’t believe the “I was really busy with life/ work” excuse. We know and understand that you were playing the field same as us and that’s cool, but we also know it didn’t work out so well for you because you’re back now aren’t you? Another thing is there’s a continuous clause on all come backs. If we had only one date then when we meet up for drinks it’s date two. If our last date was date 2 and we made out and got a hand job then this is date three. If we were beating it up on the reg and you’re the one that stopped returning calls or texts, we are expecting this night to end horizontally. If a guy was willing and trying to bang you a months ago don’t act stupid when you come back and he still wants to bang. What did you think would happen.
My perfect weasel back text is as follows,
“Hey it’s VK, I’m out celebrating closing the Jones account project with friends, come join at xx, it’s been a while”
Honestly, Jay deserves every bit of success, fame, money and power he receives. It already happened but in case you missed it, if ever there was a moment he transcend being the greatest rapper alive to becoming the ambassador of what is hip hop just watch below. I think the G manifesto would give him exta style points for giving back
The following was written by my protege “The Rookie” who’s trials and tribulations getting into the game is pretty funny to read about but even funnier to watch. It’s always good to remember though that we were all there once… but you couldn’t pay me to go back!
There was nothing I could do. This turtle wanted me and she would not let go. Her arms wrapped all around me, her hands caressing, no, mauling every part of me she could grab. What the hell is going on?? I thought to myself, embarrassed. Thank God tall blondie left and won’t see this ridiculousness. I figured I’d see what would happen. Surely she’ll just get bored with me trying not to fall over. She’ll move on. She didn’t.
Trapped, I noticed wingman just chillin, while her friend was dancing by herself. I looked at her friend. She had a sorta cute face, but I was quickly distracted by the widest hips i’d ever seen. Watching her walk through the crowd, it was like an aircraft carrier squeezing through the Panama Canal. “Thunder thighs” doesn’t adequately describe them. More like watching that giant pile driver at a construction site. With each step, loud booms. I felt bad for what I’d say next.
“Hey wingman, can you take care of her friend?” “Yeah no prob.” “I mean if you don’t want to, I understand.” “Nah, it’s cool.”
OK I don’t feel bad anymore. “You smell soooooo goooooood. OMG!!” She grinded as hard as she could on me, and I took advantage. Why not get some fingering action, let her know what i’m about. And she didn’t resist either. “OMG you smell soooooo goooooood!” Blame it on the grey goose. I’d say we made out, but it was more like her mouth attacking mine. It was vicious. She was biting into something delicious. Literally biting. Because I’m literally delicious.
The bar crowd was already getting thinner, and nothing else was coming in. Might as well call this a night, and get with this turtle. Who cares if she was a turtle? With VK’s turtle history, I’d knew he’d approve. “Get that turtle, Rookie! Get it!” As the Rookie, I knew it was my mission.
Outside the club, it was clear her fat friend had other ideas. “We’re going back to my place. Ya’ll can’t come.” Fatty is sayin this and that, while the turtle is begging me to come with her. Duh, I’m already outside, ready to go. It was clear what I had to do. I would fight the fatty for her friend. “Look [fatty], your friend wants me. Why would you disappoint her?” “Well, you can come, but your friend can’t. I’m having another guy come over.”
I really didn’t pay attention to what she said. Instead, I tossed my keys to wingman, who said it was cool. Fatty had another guy coming over? Yeah right. She just didn’t want to say chocolate cake was waiting.
Turtle and fatty get in fatty’s car, and I’m heading for the back seat, when… *click* she locks the door and pulls away. “Wow,” wingman remarks, “rejected by fatties.” We couldn’t help but laugh. It didn’t even matter though, because I’d be seeing tall blondie real soon.
Grammar. a qualifying, explanatory, or appositive word, phrase, clause, or sentence that interrupts a syntactic construction without otherwise affecting it, having often a characteristic intonation and indicated in writing by commas, parentheses, or dashes, as in William Smith—you must know him—is coming tonight.
an interval.
Don’t for one second believe the award hype of Up in the Air, it was one of the biggest let downs of last year like Julian Casablancas’s Phrazes for the Young, all hype no filling. It resonated with mostly females though because George ( I date hot common chicks/ Italians half my age on the reg) plays his role of Ryan Bingham with such pure vulnerability, you forget it’s Clooney the international playboy. Even though he get’s his comeuppins in the end, don’t get it twisted it’s no Michael Clayton… a waybetter movie. But this isn’t a movie review.
Slight spoiler alert….
In the crucial scene where Clooney’s character goes all in and decides to really go for the girl only to get a surprise dick sandwich rejection. She calls to explain her actions, letting him know that he’s not the type of guy that women actually settle down with in a serious relationship. He’s just the guy women bang for a while to have a story to tell. He’s an escape from the day to day monotony of their “real lives”. The final blow is when she calls him a parenthesis. As if to say if her life was a book he wouldn’t even be a chapter, a paragraph, not even a sentence. DAMN! The look on Clooney’s face is priceless, the look of a man who spent his whole life thinking he was getting over on the world then realizing no one ever really cared. Caution this could be any of us.
If you’re out here running game all over town and doing it well eventually you’ll run into a situation like this. If your reputation as a ladies man proceeds you, often women will just get with you for a verity of reasons you don’t even realize. To see what all the hype is about, to brag to her friends then blast you in the same conversation (99% of the time will state how small your genitalia is). Most of the time though they just want a no strings attached bang before they decide to get back to dating and being in real relationships. This is of course is all good if you yourself are just looking for a notch or if you write a blog about picking up chicks.
But if you actually catch real feeling for a girl and want to take a quick time out from the game there is no way in hell she must ever EVER know about your playboy past. Absolutely nothing good can come of it. This will be held over your past as a source of her insecurities and the ace to win all arguments. It doesn’t matter as much with younger women 25 and under. But after that a woman’s need for self-perservaion quickly escalates. This doesn’t really matter though because again game can get you the notch but from notch to relationship we’re talking about a whole different set of rules. One is an all out attack on a battlefield the other is more like espionage. Both if used correctly win all wars. The main point though is to decide early what exactly you want then play accordingly. Don’t ever for one second though think because you’re running game on a girl that she’s not capeable of running it right back. Respect your enemy and avoid dick sandwiches.. the lack of salt will help you live longer.
The following was written by my protege “The Rookie” who’s trials and tribulations getting into the game is pretty funny to read about but even funnier to watch. It’s always good to remember though that we were all there once… but you couldn’t pay me to go back!
“I hear that 80’s nights are a good look for us,” I told Wingman. We would stand out. “Let’s do it,” he said. So off we went. I knew I wasn’t a fan of the music, but I’d suck it up for a new experience. Let’s just go with it and see what happens.
Most of the people there were in large groups, like co-workers partying beyond happy hour. That did not stop people from trying to include us in the partying. “How can you see all of this and not dance!” said one girl. I think, no, I know I have lots of rhythm, but this music was like anti-rhythmic. I just didn’t understand it, I guess.
In the corner of the bar was my shot: tall blondie, talking with her short, plain-looking friend. I made my move: went to the bar next to her and ordered another drink, and just started a convo. No idea what I said, it all just seemed natural. She was a head taller than me, blonde, really nice body, face was decent. And she just moved to town.
Things progressed nicely. I told her I had never been to an 80’s night. “Ooo I Looove 80’s nights!” Figured. She told me about her love for it. “You’ll have to make me a good CD. I don’t know any of this music,” except for the MJ that kept coming on. She agreed, and told me she make me the best CD.
Eventually Wingman came over to talk to her short friend. Oh yeah, forgot she was standing there, looking depressed. Whoops. He did his thing with the shorty. Good. I can get back to tall blondie.
It all seemed easy. However, I knew I wasn’t doing the touching to truly escalate. But it didn’t even matter. She asked me if I thought her mid thigh-high dress was too short, then lifted it to show the shorts underneath. I told her that on the east coast, she can’t wear shorts underneath that type of dress. “Are you sure?” Of course I’m sure. “But it might be bad for when I dance,” she said, as she sat back on the stool, spreading her legs while slowly lifting the dress up…
It was getting late and it was time for her and her friend to go. I suggested we hang out again. The problem that was running through my mind was, it was the middle of the week, and I know better than to do dates on weekends. But if I set it too far in the future, lots of stuff could happen until that date. Stuff that would be bad for me. Uh oh. “Oooo I love doing brunch, let’s do it Saturday!” Crap. Not sure what to do, I just went along. “There’s this Indian place that has great food. But it’s gassy.” I was trapped, but played it cool. I knew a date during the day was a bad idea. Well, at least it would be an experience. We said our goodbyes and she left.
Wingman and I moved to the other end of the bar, deciding whether to stay or go. The crowd had thinned out some, and it didn’t look like there was anything left. I was ready to keep going. You could understand the amount of confidence I had grocery bagging tall blondie. Let’s keep building on that. But then I saw her coming toward me out of the corner of my eye, and before I had time to react, she was all up on me…
My stories are told out of order of events. But today I’m getting ready for work and if anything I’m a master of daily routine. I like the safety of knowing what’s next. Today is a grey suit, white french cuff shirt freshly pressed, my favorite gold cuff links, and now I’m in front of the standing mirror in my room, collar up attempting to tie my favorite lime green power tie from Express. It only takes me one try but I get the perfect dimple on the first attempt. The chicken and potatoes I prepared for lunch is done and packed, protein shake and snacks ready. Already had my daily two packs of oatmeal.
I look behind me into the mirror and I see B legs sleepy but looking up at me smiling. Her legs disappear into grey cotton boy shorts that come out from under my black Express button up collard shirt she put on last night to go to the bathroom. Unbuttoned, with my blanket between her legs she looks like a portrait of effortless cool. Our eyes connect and I smile back at her.
Right now I feel like a double agent, a bad guy playing the normal caring good guy. Trying on a new face. This is me attempting to get my Dexter on and she’s playing Rita Bennett perfectly but the whole thing ends in a bloody mess. I wonder how much longer I can keep this act up, ignore impulses, because if you do all the things nice guys who are bunned up do you’ll eventually become one. Winter is almost over. But there is some good here. I’ve noticed the slight changes in me and she does fit into my daily routine nicely. Moments like these are like sand. Even though I can already see the cracks and I know this wont last, seeing her laying like that is my favorite part of today.
I’ll go into work, some PM will bitch about funding he should have known would run out sooner than later on the project but he doesn’t bother to look at the monthly reports I send him. Some client will demand an all hands meeting because he doesn’t know how to read an invoice. My boss will find a way to give me two compliments on a project then at the end “suggest” a way I can improve it which will force us to in a completely different direction than was decided before. I’ll meet my the degenerate at the gym at 5:30 today we have shoulders and triceps. I took the steak out of the freezer to let it thaw out for dinner. I’ll watch Countdown with Keith Olberman then start working on a blog post but decide it sucks so I’ll watch some pornhub instead. I’m a master of daily routine
I put on the suit jacket, I slide in the pocket square and adjust my tie one more time. I walk over to the bed, she looks up smiling,
“Hunnneyyy, you look so handsome today, my handsome man, beijo beijo”
I kiss her lips, then her forehead and tell her I’ve got to go but she can stay as long as she wants. What does it matter, they never do.
I along with the rest of the internets knows that one of the most annoying thing any blogger can do is post IM/ G chat conversations between them and one of their friends as if to say, “look at how awesome and funny the conversations between my friends and I are, don’t you wish you were friends with us”. But other than that the second most annoying thing a blogger can do is to post their New Years resolution.
Now I typically don’t make any NY resolutions because I’m more of the mindset anything you feel like changing about your life you shouldn’t wait till a specific day to do it. Also if you keep making the same resolutions year in and year out (smoking, lose weight) after the third year one should just give up and die. But there was a combination of good and bad events to end 09 that put me in the mind frame that there were indeed some things I could do that would make me even happier in 2010. I think that mixed with the fact that this is the year I turn old man 30 aka grownz, I’d like to be a different man in my 30’s than I was in my 20’s so I need a little game plan. Since you my readers are kind of like my hostages in that fact that whatever I put up you have to read, hear are some of the steps I want to take to be a better VK in 2010.
Take my job more seriously
I come into work, check my e mails, log into Facebook, surf the net looking for video of old people falling down steps, answer some e mails from clients, read blogs check back to facebook eat then send out more e mails close my laptop and go to the gym. I work for a great company that pays me some nice scratch and if I want to make some power moves I’m gong to have to put in some more effort around here, maybe even open my work laptop up at night and send out a couple of e mails on the weekend. Its’ the price we all pay to play at corporate America.
Cut back on the DC club scene
It’s easy to get sucked into a one dimensional nightlife of DC. When someone in your crew knows the owners at this club and your friends girlfriend is a bartender at that club and the promoter of another club is a guy you see in the gym everyday. Then you hear about a new club opening up and get invited out to three weeks worth of “soft opening” then a “grand opening”. Every knew club is the same as what it was called before it. Current used to be Dragon Fly, Midtown used to be Play, Public used to be five, that incredible new club “The District” yeah I went there back when it was Chloe. It’s great because after a while you are connected and can run Owner’s son game. It sucks when it hits you, you’ve already banged that coked out go go dancer sometime back in 07.
Cut back on the Jack
This might be easily the toughest one of my resolutions because it taste so good once it hits your lips. But at the same time more trouble than good times have come from it and I might be hallucinating but I worry about my face drying out long term…. Nobody can see your liver so shut it. So I’ll try the baby steps of no Jack before 11pm on the weekends.
Bang/ Date hotter chicks
In my 20’s I think I did what I thought I was supposed to do (did that make any sense?) get notches. And Roosh as my witness the last couple of years I’ve been killing it. The only problem with going for a high quantity is the obvious decrease in quality. Part of it is the time and energy it takes to game higher tier girls… IN DC. I mean I go south or to the west coast/ Vegas I’m on celebrity status. In DC even sixes think they’re dimes, what a mind fuck. But now that I’ve got my notches out of the way I need to stop making excuses and step my quality game up. As one of my boys like to say, “Just because she’ll sleep with me doesn’t mean I have to sleep with her” now that’s power. The funny thing I’ve noticed though just from friends and in my short 2010 and little of 09 is how you can use one hot chick to attract another
Revamp my bedroom game
I really didn’t care about how trashy my bedroom was, clothes everywhere, crappy bed/ furniture, it was armature hour. My thinking was I’ve never not hooked up with a girl because of my bedroom if she got that far she was obviously down for the business. I mean it wasn’t like I lived in my dad’s basement, wait what. But again it’s not a good look when the girl gives you that, “how old are you again, why does your room look so fratty, is that a Brooke Burke poster with target signs on her boobs”. Hell to be honest I don’t even like to chill in my own room how do I expect the lovely ladies to feel at home getting down to their lacy boy shorts? So out with the weak sauce Ikea bed with cheetah print silk covers and time to get grownz.
Finally start and finish my “pet project”
I know guys who’ve wrote two fucking books, others working on their book. I keep saying and speaking about what I’d do if I could do anything but I’ve said the same shit for the past five years. Then Saturday and Sunday come when I actually have time to work on it and I’m to hung over. So in 2010 if I don’t take the steps needed to start my pet project then I’m just as bad as the fat chick who swears this year will be the year she gets rid of the weight.
Have more “Passion Sex”
I think with the high notch counting, the mud turtles and the drunk sex, I’ve grown accustomed to beating the pussy up like a champ. I mean sure it’s fun to Jack hammer and throw an uppercut here and there the do an anal cannonball. But sometimes it’s good to slow it up here and there, break out the Barbeque Sauce and have Robin Thicke’s, “Sex Therapy” playing in the background.
Bang/ Date nicer girls
You’ll live longer
That’s all for now. I will be giving updates on how these little resolutions are going throughout 2010.
It happened on one of those weekends where the whole crew got wasted during October before I got bunned up. It was a debacle, most of us went out and nobody remembered much. I was upset over another situation so I ended up going back with this mud turtle. When I woke up the next morning she was so excited to have me there. Saying things like, “you don’t understand I normally don’t bring guys back to my place”. I was all like thanks for the memories where the fuck am I? She informed me that I was in some foreign land called Maryland She never got out from under the covers but I asked questions to the nearest metro and left her room
The next day I got a lot of ribbing from the guys, who by the way have all gone turtle diving from time to time. Hardy har har , she was more like a “Galapagos Turtle”, blah blah blah. “Dude we tried to save you but you were too far gone”. We gave her the nice nickname of “Butterball”.
A couple of weeks later all was forgotten and everything went back to normal. We were in the gym chilling out doing our meat head thing when all of a sudden one of my boys runs up with this gigantic grin on his face, “you’ll never believe who’s here”. I look up and I see Butterball waddling her way through the gym. I all but vomit in my mouth. My boy the Degenerate whispers, “sweet Jesus is this really happening”. One of the twins start giggling like a little girl. I was horrified. I did what any respectable grown up would do after having a one night stand with a turtle… I avoided all eye contact and pretended like I’ve never seen her in my life. I was pissed! She had broken all social norms set forth from the 1949 Geneva Convention that clearly states procedures on follow up interactions between Mud Turtles and higher status men.
I had followed all the rules I thought, I mean the turtle lived in another area code for Christ sake who knew that her new job was right around my area code. Much like the rules of owning a Mogwai aka Gremlin. I never let it see light of day/ hung out with her when the sun came up. Never let her get wet and I sure as hell never fed her any food after midnight… like she needed it.
How would you feel if you saw a video of yourself blacked out drunk and acting like a complete asshole? Doing things you don’t remember and behaving in a way you didn’t know you acted when you got that drunk. That’s exactly the feeling I got when I saw Butterball in the gym… in spandex like pants.
Right then and there I said out loud that I was done with mud turtles no more for at least a year. The degenerate who was standing next to me said I couldn’t do it… and true to his name he bet me on it. If I can make it till the end of November 2010 without hooking up (including making out) with a mud turtle He’ll pay for all my drinks for a weekend and including drinks I’d buy for girls I’m trying to hook up with. If I fail then I got his for a weekend. This is easily a $200 to $250 bet here.
So yes there is a constant reminder in my gym of what happens when I let myself drink too much. She’s kind of like a genital wart… a constant reminder of what can go wrong when you get carried away in search of a good time. I still haven’t acknowledge her existence though thank god. But this was the start of my “Better VK in 2010 project came from. I’ll speak on that in the next post. I sure will miss the turtles in 2010 but something gotta give.
It started out as a small tingle maybe slight shock. I think everyone experiences it when you first give in and decide to join the cult that is Facebook. You see that one girl from high school that represents most girls from your high school. The ones that stayed behind in a rural town. She played sports year round and was tall, skinny and always seemed to just glow with happiness. Lettered in every sport and was good enough to get a field hockey scholarship to a division one school. Almost exactly ten years later she’s married had two kids and has honestly gained 60 to 80 pounds. The glow has been replaced by a double chin and acne. Every picture seems to be her in a mom jeans and her hair up.
For some reason because of location, number of years, relationship and life status one can almost be ok with the high school chick from the small town who got married young and popped out kids. But what about that single girl you used to know (27-30) that started dating that one guy right after you and now her pictures from some party comes up on your feed. The first thing you’ll notice is the face, the water retention and the fullness. Kind of looks like Mayweather hit her with a two piece. The next place you’ll see it is probably the arms, flabby triceps aka the pork chops. This is probably the kiss of death. This happens in less than a year.
Again though you can almost accept this outcome. She dating some beta nerd who’s probably more into his career than physical activities. Knowing she’s the best he can get she doesn’t feel the need to stay in shape like before because she knows he’s not going anywhere and the man she has will love her no matter what she looks like. IF they’ve moved in together then it’s over for sure in the upkeep department. For some reason though this is natural.
What really gets me is the “Fuck it, I give up” girls. The girls that are single but still let themselves slide. This is absolutely mind boggling to me. I’m sure these girls just don’t wake up and say, “hey I’d love to put on an extra fiddy pounds and try to reach my goal of getting up to a deuce maybe a deuce and half”. But it’s almost like a silent killer. She gains five pounds which is no big deal easily period weight. But then a week later the five has gone to ten pounds. She ignores this, pushes it to the back of her mind. The reasonable thing to do would hit the gym twice a day cut back on the alcohol and get her body back to fighting weight. But fuck that noise she has to meet with her girls for happy hour food and drinks so they can bash men. Did we mention she has so many different groups of friends, HH is five times a week?
These girls that have given up though will never blame remaining single on their increase weight. Instead they’ll simply brag about all other life accomplishments to overcompensate. This is the last silent cry for help and attention, like that drunk chick in the club who screams out, “I LURVVVVVV MY GIRLS ,THEIR THE BESTS” A couple of days later they OD on sleeping pills, cough syrup and Haagen dazs. Of course we all know the funny thing is these girls think they should be dating/ pulling the same types of guys at 30 lbs overweight that they were pulling at their peak condition. Let’s just keep it real mah, if you thought you should be pulling a George Clooney at 5′4 115/120 (period weight) then at 130/135 you should probably slide down to a George Lopez. At 145/150 slide even lower to a George Costanza. Anything over that go ahead hit up Curious George.
The old me used to find some kind of sick joy a sweet revenge in running into a girl I used to hit and she’s packed on more than a few. But ever since my better “VK in 2010 project” part of me feels bad. I still wonder though at what point do former hot girls decide, “Fuck it I give up”. I mean if you’re single is there a reasonable excuse?
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E-mail: arlingtoncrew@yahoo.com.
Right now I'm just your typical 26 year old who dates hot chicks but bangs mudturtles in the between time. I've been known to black out in seedy VIP booths next to coked up Persian women with fake breast implants. One day I'll look back on all this like a yearbook and remember you guys signed my crack.
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